#the flirting was off the charts that day

[buffonias]

[garbagequeer]

you see what i mean about him having a sort of earnest game. wouldve got me. emotional confidence off the charts id be intrigued. and thats how he gets her and kills her with hammers

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY

Synopsis - Your boyfriend is tired after a long day of work and you have been impatient all day, just to have him inside you again but then the apple foreplay starts. You don’t know if you want to ride him harder or smack him with that in the face. (6.8k) Pairing - Caleb!possessive!boyfriend x Needy!Reader Warnings - (nsfw 18+) He’s being playful sadistic tease, lap riding, orgasm edging, unprotected raw vaginal sex, a lot of kisses, creampie, a little handjob, slight nipple play, apple foreplay, dirty talk, pet names(baby, buttercup, pipsqueak, brat, pretty girl, little seagull, Miss Apple) - He is sweet but such a big flirt, I can't. - Their sexual chemistry is off the charts here. Don’t judge, okay? (And sorry Zayne, the apples are really keeping you away while Caleb is in charge-sorry, had to say it, haha) Hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin as you padded through the apartment, his oversized t-shirt doing little to conceal the anticipation thrumming beneath. You loved the way his clothes swallowed you whole, a tangible reminder of his presence even when he wasn't there. But he was home now, or at least, that's what the click of the automatic lock had signaled, a sound that usually heralded a greeting, a kiss, a moment of reconnection.

But silence hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual boisterous energy he carried. Frowning, you followed the sound of your own bare feet against the polished floor, drawn towards the bedroom.

The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

Caleb was a study in contrasts. The crisp lines of his uniform, usually immaculate and imposing, were softened by the loosened tie and the undone buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of the powerful chest beneath. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide, a posture that usually radiated confidence and control. But his head was bowed, his eyes closed, and the lines etched around his mouth spoke of exhaustion. He looked utterly drained.

"Caleb?" you murmured, your voice soft, laced with concern. He was a man of steel, a protector, a force to be reckoned with, but even steel could bend under pressure.

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, a flicker of recognition sparking within the deep purple depths. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, a slow, weary curve that tugged at your heart.

"Hey, baby," he rasped, the sound rough around the edges, a testament to a long and arduous day.

Instinct took over. You moved towards him, drawn by an invisible cord of affection and worry. Dropping to your knees on the soft rug by the bed, you nestled between his legs, pressing your cheek against the solid warmth of his thigh. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of leather, gun oil, and a hint of something uniquely Caleb, filled your senses, grounding you. Your hands gripped his other leg, anchoring you to him, seeking reassurance in his physical presence.

"You okay? You look tired," you asked, your voice a soft murmur against the fabric of his uniform.

His gaze softened, the weariness momentarily receding as his eyes focused on you, dressed in his old t-shirt. It was several sizes too large, completely swallowing your frame, the fabric draping around you in a way that highlighted your delicate features. The effect was undeniably cute, a disarming vulnerability that contrasted sharply with the fierce, independent woman he knew you to be. It made him forget, for a fleeting moment, the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin. The sight of you, so sweetly nestled against him, so readily offering comfort, stirred a primal protectiveness within him. It also ignited a spark of desire, a hunger to devour you whole, looking so tempting and innocent in his oversized shirt.

His hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair, the touch gentle and possessive. He separated the strands, feeling the silky texture against his calloused skin, the contrast both soothing and stimulating. He cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips, a silent invitation.

You parted your lips for him, a subconscious act of surrender. He didn't hesitate, slipping his thumb past your teeth, the pad of his finger rough against your tongue. You tasted his skin, the faint tang of sweat and the underlying scent that was uniquely his, a scent that always sent a shiver of arousal through you.

"Oh, you know, the usual," he drawled, his voice regaining some of its usual playful edge. "Just a normal clean up tonight. Nothing crazy."

"Then why do you look like you're about to fall asleep any second now?" you managed to ask, your words slightly muffled by the presence of his finger in your mouth.

He pressed deeper, exploring the sensitive flesh behind your teeth, teasing and tantalizing. You widened your lips, granting him greater access, your saliva slicking his finger like a glaze. He watched you, his eyes hooded, a mixture of weariness and desire swirling within their depths. A tired chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"The fleet work has been hectic lately," he admitted, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "But seeing you waiting for me at home is worth it."

The heat bloomed in your cheeks, a flush of pleasure and embarrassment. You playfully nipped at his finger, a silent protest against his teasing. His eyes glinted with amusement. "What are you up to now, pipsqueak?" he said, his voice a low purr. "Don't pretend I didn't see that pink peek under my shirt."

You whined softly, unable to form a coherent sentence, your thoughts already scattered by the sensation of his finger dancing against your tongue. He made you suck on it a few more times, drawing out the pleasure, coating it in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

Finally, relenting, he withdrew his finger, sliding it slowly along your lips, leaving a trail of your drool in its wake. He waited, his gaze fixed on your face, watching the play of emotions flitting across your features. Your eyes were glazed, your breath coming in shallow pants, and your attention was clearly drawn to the burgeoning bulge straining against the fabric of his trousers. He was already hard, fueled by the simple act of you sucking on his finger, and the knowledge of your desire sent a secret thrill through you.

You loved his cock. You always had. It was the perfect shape, the perfect size, designed to fit you like a glove, to fill you completely, to drive you to the brink of madness with pleasure. The mere thought of it throbbing inside you, of feeling your clit pulsing in anticipation, sent a wave of heat crashing through your body.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he spread his legs wider, increasing the angle of your view, making his arousal even more prominent beneath his pants. He looked impossibly large and imposing, the uniform adding to his aura of masculine power.

"Well, now," he murmured, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Looks like someone's got a little… itch they need scratching."

He reached out, his fingers smoothing your hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Say the words, buttercup," he whispered, his voice a husky invitation. "What do you need?"

You were too far gone to resist, too consumed by the burning need that had taken root deep within your core. Shame flickered across your face, a brief and insignificant spark against the overwhelming tide of desire.

"I… I need your cock," you breathed, the words a soft, desperate plea, your face burning with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

He chuckled, a low, predatory sound that vibrated through you. “Need it, do you? Well, I’ve got plenty to offer. Where do you want it, baby? Do you want to taste me first? Beg for it?” He watched your face, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “In your mouth, making you choke on it? Buried deep in your ass, stretching you until you scream? Or do you want it throbbing inside your tight pussy?” he mocked, the words a low, husky rasp that sent shivers dancing down your spine. His voice held a playful cruelty, a deliberate goading that both thrilled and terrified you. “Tell me. You need to be more specific."

Each syllable was a spark, igniting a firestorm within you. You leaned closer, driven by a primal need that overrode any sense of shame. He watched, his eyes narrowed and glittering with predatory interest as you rubbed your face against his crotch, inhaling deeply. The scent of leather clung to him, a familiar aroma that always seemed to intensify when he was aroused, mingling with a musky, undeniably masculine scent that was uniquely Caleb. It was a heady blend, an intoxicating cocktail that stripped away your inhibitions and left you craving more. You felt like a pet, a creature starved for affection and finally presented with its favorite, most forbidden treat.

"In…in my pussy," you whispered, the words barely audible, a fragile offering into the heavy silence. You felt the immediate backlash, the sharp tug as his fist clenched in your hair, yanking your head back. The sudden movement stole your breath, forcing you to meet his eyes.

He looked more alive than you'd seen him in weeks, the dull apathy that usually veiled his features replaced with a sharp, almost feral intensity. Yet, the lazy, knowing smirk that perpetually played on his lips remained, a tantalizing contrast to the hunger burning in his eyes. It was a dangerous combination, a promise of pleasure laced with pain, of control willingly surrendered and boundaries ruthlessly tested. In that moment, he looked like he could devour you whole and revel in the aftermath.

"Your pussy?" he hummed, the question laced with amusement. His gaze flickered down your body, a slow, deliberate appraisal that made your skin prickle with anticipation. "Did she miss me?"

"Yes," you confessed, the single word a testament to the ache that had consumed you during his absence.

His smirk widened, twisting into a sardonic grin that sent a shiver of apprehension down your spine. You knew that look. It meant he was ready to torment you, to play with your desires as a cat toys with a mouse. His ego was undeniably stoked by your desperation, by the knowledge that you had been counting the minutes until his return, aching for his touch. He practically lived for your vulnerability, for the power he held over you.

"Did she now…" he murmured, the words a low, possessive growl. He released your hair, bracing himself against the bed on his elbows. His chest expanded, a silent invitation, "Take my clothes off, first. We don’t need any distractions along the way, do we?”

Your hands trembled, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his uniform jacket. His eyes never left yours, pinning you beneath their intense scrutiny. Each movement felt amplified, each rustle of fabric echoing in the sudden silence that had descended upon the room. Once the jacket was off, you moved to his shirt, your ears ringing with the sound of each button being undone. The room was silent save for your harsh breathing and clumsy movement.

Caleb was clearly enjoying your distress. He remained perfectly still, comfortable in his position, his expression a mask of amused detachment. That small, teasing smile remained etched on his face, a silent challenge that dared you to break his composure. For a fleeting moment, you wanted to wipe it off, to shatter his control and unleash the beast that lurked beneath the surface.

When his shirt was finally off, revealing the sculpted lines of his muscular waist, the defined pecks and abs that rippled with every breath, his biceps on full display, you bit your lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. The sight of his body, so familiar and yet always so intoxicating, sent a wave of heat crashing through you.

His hand moved with surprising speed, his thumb pressing against your bitten lip, gently but firmly preventing you from inflicting further damage. He clicked his tongue in displeasure, the sound sharp and disapproving. "Don't bite your lips. You know I hate it when you hurt yourself."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his. You licked the blood from your lip and his finger, savoring the taste of him, the subtle hint of his skin. When he pulled away, you didn't hesitate. You went for his pants, your fingers clumsy but determined. The task proved more difficult than anticipated. His erection strained against the fabric, a thick, hard bulge that threatened to burst free. It was a miracle you didn't snag him with the zipper in your haste.

His chuckle was low and humorous, laced with a hint of smugness. "Careful, little seagull. If you want my cock, don't break it before I'm inside you."

You glared at him, your frustration momentarily eclipsing your desire. You yanked his pants open, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. He laughed again, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, helping you pull them down his strong, long legs. When they were piled on top of the other discarded clothes, you licked your lips, your gaze lingering on the outlined length beneath his underwear. A wet spot was already forming, a testament to his own arousal.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Someone definitely missed me."

Caleb breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He dropped his head backwards, his smile lazy and predatory. "Guilty," he admitted, his voice a low, husky rasp that sent shivers down your spine. Lowering his eyes back to you, he nodded towards his crotch. "Go on. Keep going. I need to see how much you want it"

The jerk was seriously enjoying this too much. You leaned over him, your breath hot against his underwear, and carefully, you pulled his briefs down. His cock sprang free, slapping against your face in its eagerness.

"Oh…" Your breath hitched, the familiar sight of his engorged shaft sending a jolt of electricity through you. You squirmed on the floor, still kneeling between his legs, your own desire intensifying with each passing second. It was already pulsing with need, pre-cum oozing from the tip like it was desperate to be inside you.

Caleb stroked your cheek, his eyes glazed with his own escalating desire. "Go on, baby."

Lifting his hips slightly, you tugged his underwear down, freeing him completely. And then, he was beautifully, gloriously naked.

Your gaze travels the length of him, lingering on the thick, throbbing veins that pulse beneath his skin. The head of his cock is slick and engorged, a testament to the raw power that lies within. He's magnificent, a sculpted masterpiece of muscle and desire, and he's all yours, at least for this moment.

He watches you, his eyes burning with an intensity that could melt steel. He’s close to the edge, you can feel it in the tremor of his hands, the raggedness of his breath. The knowledge that you hold him in this state, poised on the precipice of oblivion, is a heady rush, a potent aphrodisiac that fuels your own desire.

A slow, deliberate smile spreads across your face. "You think you're in control, don't you?" you whisper, your voice laced with a playful malice.

He doesn't answer, his gaze locked on yours, his body a taut bowstring stretched to its breaking point.

Reaching out, you grasp him firmly, your fingers encircling his shaft. He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your bones. You squeeze gently, testing his limits, and he bucks against your hand, his hips lifting off the bed.

Even that first touch was making him thicken, the slick head, full of arousal as it pulsed in your hand like it has a mind on its own.

"You’re so hard," you murmur, your voice a silken caress as you lick your lips. The sight of him, so engorged and ready for you, sends a shiver of desire coursing through your body. Your folds clench in response, aching to be filled.

And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, you climb into his lap, straddling him with a possessive hunger. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you grind against him, the friction igniting a firestorm of sensation.

"Tease," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Only because you like it," you retort, leaning down to kiss him, your lips brushing against his.

The kiss is slow, sensual, a deliberate exploration of each other's mouths. You taste his hunger, his desperation, his raw need, and it only fuels your own. You deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling in a dance of dominance and submission.

Caleb's laughter morphed into a low growl. He reached up, tangling his fingers in you hair, tugging your head back just enough to force you to meet his eyes. Those goddamn eyes. Piercing purple, they held a dangerous glint, a promise of delicious torment. "And you, pipsqueak, are a brat."

You stuck your tongue out, a childish gesture that earned you a sharp, playful slap on the ass.

"Hey!" You protested, but the sting only served to heighten the awareness already thrumming through you. Your body was a traitor, responding to his touch with an eager anticipation that bordered on embarrassing.

"You love it," Caleb murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "You love when I take control, when I remind you who's in charge." The words were laced with a possessiveness that ignited a fire deep within you.

You shivered, your nipples hardening into tight peaks under the shirt you were wearing. “Yes,” You whispered, the admission barely audible. The air between you both crackled with unspoken desires, a silent conversation of wants and needs.

Caleb’s eyes burn into yours, and you feel like he can see straight through you, right down to the core of your being. He knows exactly what you want, what you crave, what makes you tick. And he's not afraid to use it against you. Or, rather, for you.

“Then let me remind you who owns you,” he says, the words a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. It's a declaration of intent, a signal that the games are over and it's time to get down to business.

With that, his hand moves to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no doubt about his intentions. He lifts you, just slightly, guiding you, positioning you with a deliberate precision that sends a fresh wave of heat washing over you. The anticipation is almost unbearable, a delicious torture that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

You feel the tip of him against you, a spark of electricity that ignites every nerve ending in your body. He hesitates for a moment, savoring the anticipation, letting you feel the promise of what’s to come.

And then, finally, he surged forward, slamming you down on his thick cock, forcing his way through like it was nothing.

He sank inside, dragging every inch, and you were lost. Utterly, completely, irrevocably lost. There was no thought, no reason, only sensation. The feeling of him filling you, stretching you, possessing you. It was primal, visceral, and utterly intoxicating. He slid inside, bottoming out, burying himself to the hilt, making you almost gasp for breath, feeling that familiar stretch which always made you wet. It was a deep, resonant chord that vibrated through your entire being.

You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle of his back. He kissed your neck, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent shivers of pleasure cascading down your spine. He knew exactly where to touch, where to linger, where to tease. He was a maestro, conducting a symphony of sensation on your skin.

"That's it, little brat. Ride me, just like that." Each stroke was a slow burn, building the tension, tightening the coil of anticipation within you.

You did as he commanded, your body moving in time with his, your hips meeting in a slow, torturous rhythm. With each thrust, you felt him slide inside you, filling you completely. It was maddening, the way he held back, taking his time, savoring every moment. He was a sadist with a PhD in pleasure.

A familiar warmth radiates from his skin, a heat you've known for as long as you can remember. He's always been there, a constant in the ever-changing landscape of your life. He knows you, perhaps better than you know yourself.

He knows about the way you devour your food, a whirlwind of messy enthusiasm that leaves traces of your meal scattered across your face and fingers. He's seen you with chocolate smeared across your cheek, a testament to a stolen midnight snack. He remembers the endless supply of napkins he’d have to procure, a silent offering to your sweet-toothed chaos.

He's witnessed the aftermath of your showers, the trail of glistening droplets that marked your path from the bathroom to your bed. He's seen you, hair plastered to your face, completely absorbed in the glowing screen of your phone, blissfully unaware of the damp patches forming on the sheets beneath you. He'd sigh, but a fond smile would tug at his lips. He knew you. The carefree, sometimes oblivious you.

And he definitely remembers the summers, the inevitable scraped knees, and the dramatic tears that followed. The way you'd recoil at the sight of your own blood, a picture of pure, unadulterated distress. He'd be the one to clean the wound, his touch gentle and reassuring as he applied the antiseptic and bandaged you up, murmuring soothing words until your sobs subsided. He knew your vulnerabilities, your little fears, the things that made you uniquely, endearingly you.

But right now, those memories fade, replaced by the intensity of the present. Your breath hitches, a ragged gasp in the quiet room. You’re completely vulnerable, stripped bare of any pretense. You are willing, utterly and completely willing, to surrender to the sensations that flood your body. You are his to command in this intimate space.

You clench around him, your muscles contracting in rhythmic waves. You feel him harden even further, a testament to your effect on him. A moan escapes your lips, a sound that is both desperate and exquisitely pleasurable. You beg him, a whispered plea that is barely audible, but he hears it, every syllable etched into his memory.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and pleading. Your face is flushed, your lips parted, your expression a mixture of pain and ecstasy. You are dripping around him and that makes him even more crazy about you. You are beautiful, breathtakingly so, in your vulnerability.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, the way he was driving you insane with need. And yet, even as you begged him to let you come, he only chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The bastard.

"Begging already, little brat?" he taunted, his free hand moving to cup you breast under the shirt, teasing your nipple. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you come."

You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. You wanted to come so badly, but you also wanted to please him, to earn his praise. The push and pull of desire and obedience was intoxicating.

And so, you tried again, your voice pleading as you begged, "Please, Caleb. Please, let me come."

But still, he held back, his thrusts slowing down even more, the teasing becoming unbearable. He was deliberately dragging out the agony, savoring your frustration. And just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he reached for a red apple on the nightstand. An apple. Seriously? He took a bite, the juice glistening on his lips as he continued to torment you with his maddeningly slow movements. He had the audacity to make eye contact while chewing. You swear, you almost lost it right then and there.

Caleb was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and arrogant grace, and right now, he was pure, unadulterated torment. His dark eyes, usually alight with amusement, held a predatory glint as he took another deliberate bite of the crisp, red apple. The juice glistened on his lips, a stark contrast to the strained expression you had sure mirrored on your own face.

"Enjoying the view?" he drawled, his voice a low, rumbling vibration that traveled right through you, intensifying the sensations already firing in your core.

Enjoying? It was a complex cocktail of pleasure and agony. You were straddling him, naked, your thighs burning, your breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands, strong and calloused, gripped your hips, guiding your movements with ruthless precision. He was a symphony of control, and you were dancing to his tune.

"Caleb," You managed, your voice a choked whisper. "Please."

He smirked, holding the apple just out of my reach. "Please what, pretty girl? Please may I continue to admire the…scenery?" He punctuated the last word with a suggestive squeeze of your hips, making you arch your back.

He knew what you wanted. He knew exactly how close you were, how desperately you were clinging to the edge. And he was relishing every second of your struggle.

With agonizing slowness, he brought the apple to your lips, the sweet scent filling your nostrils. Your mouth watered in anticipation. Finally, a taste of something other than the burning ache that consumed you. You leaned forward, ready to sink your teeth into the crisp flesh, but at the last moment, he pulled it away.

"Almost," he whispered, his breath ghosting across your ear. "But not quite."

A frustrated groan escaped your lips. "You're a sadist," You accused, but the words lacked any real heat. You were too far gone to muster any genuine anger.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Only for you, buttercup." He took another bite of the apple, the sound amplified in the close confines of the bedroom.

The sheer audacity of it! He was eating the apple, savoring it, while you were practically begging for release. It was infuriating, and yet… a strange sort of thrill ran through you. This was Caleb. This was the man you had fallen for, the man who pushed you to your limits, who challenged you in every way imaginable.

"You know," he said, his voice laced with mock innocence, "they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Perhaps you should have one." He offered the apple again, and again, snatched it away just as you reached for it.

"Caleb, I swear…" You started, but he cut you off with another bite.

“Mmm, delicious,” he murmured, savoring the flavor. “Tart, sweet, just the right amount of crunch. Almost as delicious as… certain other things I’m experiencing right now.”

He dragged his length inside you, each thrust deliberate and deep, hitting every nerve ending with agonizing precision. His size was both a blessing and a curse, filling you completely, stretching you to your limits.

Your frustration mounted, threatening to spill over into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes betrayed him. “Perhaps I’m merely showcasing my appreciation for apples. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I thought you enjoyed a little… torture.”

He knew you too well. You did enjoy it, in a twisted sort of way. The knowledge that he held all the power, the exquisite anticipation, the feeling of being completely under his control… it was all part of the intoxicating allure of Caleb. But tonight, his teasing felt… excessive. You didn’t know if you wanted to ride him harder or smack him with that same apple he was enjoying it so much. The sadist.

“Caleb, please,” You repeated, your voice cracking. “I can’t… I’m so close.”

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Such a pretty little thing, begging for me.” He took another bite, the juice dribbling down his chin. He let it linger there for a moment, before slowly, deliberately, licking it away. The movement was obscene, provocative, designed to push you over the edge.

“Caleb!” You cried out, your voice cracking. You bucked against him, desperate for release, but he remained frustratingly still, a solid, immovable force beneath you.

He finally lowered the apple, holding it just inches from your lips. The scent was intoxicating, a sweet, tangy promise. “Open,” he commanded, his voice husky.

You obeyed instantly, your mouth parting in anticipation. He brought the apple closer, the skin brushing against your lips… and then he pulled it away, again!

Your teeth snapped shut on nothing but air, frustration bubbling up inside you like a venomous poison. He wrapped his fingers around your throat and pushed his thumb against your pulse, bending your neck back. It lifted your face up, completely under his mercy.

His smirk was wide and predatory as he resumed eating the apple himself, savoring each bite with theatrical relish. The juice dripped down his chin, a crimson trail that seemed to mock your unfulfilled desires. He was teasing you, taunting you, pushing you closer and closer to the breaking point.

"Such impatience," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "You wound me."

You glared at him, your frustration mounting by the second. "You're such a jerk," You hissed, but the words were half-hearted, your anger quickly turning to desire as you watched him eat the apple, his eyes never leaving yours. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you. Temptation, forbidden fruit…he knew exactly what buttons to push.

The apple scent fills the small space between you, a sweet, tart aroma contrasting sharply with the musk of your exertion. He's savoring it, each bite deliberate, his dark eyes hooded as he watches you. You're catching your breath, trying to regain some semblance of control after… well, after everything.

His gaze flickers down, amusement dancing in their depths, and you groan. What now? You’re already a mess, pleasantly exhausted and decidedly undone. Surely he can't be thinking of continuing this particular brand of delightful torture.

Then you see it. His black phone, sleek and modern against the rumpled, fresh cotton of his bedsheets. He picks it up with the same hand he's using to hold the apple, somehow managing to balance both. You watch, confused. Too much already, too much sensation, for any more of his nonsense.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice still thick with pleasure and just a hint of irritation.

His smirk is evident, even in the dim light filtering through the curtains. He angles the phone so its back is facing you, the red apple charm dangling from the side, mocking you with its innocent sweetness. It swings gently, a tiny pendulum counting down the seconds until… what exactly? You’re not sure, but you know, instinctively, that it won’t be boring.

"Keep riding me, pipsqueak," he says, his voice low and laced with teasing. "You look too pretty not to take a picture.”

Your cheeks flush. "Don't you dare," you manage, but the words lack conviction. You know he will. And a part of you, the part that's still humming from the aftershocks of his touch, wants him to.

Just then, he thrusts up, his cock grazing your stomach, hitting that precise spot that sends shivers down your spine. You yelp, a small, involuntary sound of pure feeling, and in that very moment, he captures it. The flash illuminates the room for a fraction of a second, freezing your expression in time. You’re sure you look ridiculous – mouth slightly open, eyes wide and glassy, a sheen of perspiration on your skin.

He doesn’t stop there. He takes more pictures, experimenting with angles and lighting, capturing every detail of your flushed and vulnerable state. You want to protest, to grab the phone and delete the evidence, but you're also completely captivated, paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze and the lingering sensations rippling through you. You roll your eyes back when he pulses inside you, twitching like he would cum inside any time soon. It triggered an orgasm in you which wanted to be let free but still he forced it back.

“Caleb…please…” You beg, desperate for a release. Anything to stop this torture.

“Yeah...that's it. Beg me. Fucked stupid on my cock. Seeing you so desperate for me...Fuck...baby," Caleb groans at your debauched state, grinding his hips, his phone almost slipping from his fingers but he uses his evol to keep steady.

Finally, satisfied with his impromptu photoshoot, he tosses the phone onto the bed, the soft thud barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He turns his attention back to you, the apple still clutched in his hand.

When you whimpered, seeking fraction, Caleb just laughed, a low, seductive sound. He tossed the apple core aside, his hand moving to hold your hips steady as he finally took control, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, driving you wild with need.

You closed your eyes, fighting back tears. He was toying with you, pushing you to your limit, and the realization was both humiliating and… exciting. You hated him for it, and yet, you loved him for it too.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice softening slightly.

You reluctantly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The amusement was still there, but there was something else too, something akin to tenderness.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek. “So beautifully desperate. Show me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Ride for me, baby."

And you did. You rode him until your muscles screamed, until your lungs burned, until your vision blurred. Each thrust was deeper, harder, more insistent than the last. You could feel him, all of him, and the sensations were almost overwhelming.

You clenched around him, tighter and tighter, trying to pull him over the edge with you. You could feel the tension building in his muscles, the accelerated rhythm of his breathing.

"You're killing me," he groaned, but there was no complaint in his voice. Only raw, unadulterated pleasure,” So tight,” he groaned, his voice laced with desperation. “So fucking wet for me.”

He started to buck beneath you, his movements growing more frantic. Each slap of skin echoed in the room.

"Caleb," You gasped, your body convulsing. "I'm going to…"

He cut you off with a guttural roar as he reached his own climax. His body went rigid, his muscles contracting violently. He surged deep inside you, pumping furiously into you and you cried out as the wave of pleasure washed over you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He held you there, gasping for breath, his heart pounding against you ear. And then, just when you thought the moment couldn't get any more perfect, he tightened his grip around at the back of your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know who was in control. A primal growl rumbled in his chest as he came, abs clenching as rope after rope of his cum flooded your pussy, the sound, the feeling of its warmth sending shivers down your spine.

His shaft throbs painfully inside your used hole, pumping the last hot load deep inside, your mind drunk on him as you start to drool with your lips parted, too stimulated to even make a sound.

You come at least two times, the feeling of being so full triggered your orgasms without a warning.

You clung to him, your body trembling, completely spent. The world seemed to spin around you, the only constant the feel of his strong arms holding you close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his breathing began to slow. He loosened his grip slightly, but he didn't let you go. His hand remained firmly planted on the small of your back, possessive and grounding.

You could still feel the faint tremors running through his body, the lingering aftershocks of the storm you had weathered together. He was still pulsing, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside your pussy, each twitch sending a fresh wave of sensation through your exhausted body.

Time seemed to warp and bend, stretching into an eternity of shared breaths and whispered sighs. Finally, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he shifted, his muscles coiling with renewed strength. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to reawaken every nerve ending in your body. He pulled your hips up, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of awareness through your exhausted body. The friction was exquisite, a burning reminder of the pleasure you had just experienced, and the potential for more that still lingered between you.

Then he slipped out, the loss sudden and sharp. The heat that had been contained within you dissipated, leaving a void, a feeling of vulnerability that made you instinctively tighten your muscles. Your spent leaked out, a slick, glistening testament to the raw intensity of your passion, a visible manifestation of the pleasure you had just shared.

He shifted you slightly, just enough so he could observe you. "Look at that mess," he smirked, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your veins despite your depleted state.

Nestled in his lap, you couldn't deny the tableau before you. His abdomen and the length of his partially erect cock were slick with your essence, a glistening testament to your shared passion. The sight was both explicit and undeniably arousing, a stark display of your complete surrender and his unyielding power.

A blush crept up your neck, a complex blend of embarrassment and a defiant sense of pride.

Pulling you closer to his chest, he nuzzled his face into you hair, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "Well, that was… fruitful."

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. Even now, even after all that, he had the nerve to mention that. His obsession with apples were maddening sometimes.

"You're impossible," You mumbled, your throat dry.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "But you love it."

He knew you too well. You did love it. You loved the teasing, the torment, the intensity. You loved the way he pushed you to your limits, the way he made you feel alive.

He pulled back slightly, his purple eyes sparkling with amusement, less intense.

“Speaking of fruit, I believe I promised you an apple pie. Perhaps we should get started on that?”

You swear, the man has no sense of timing. Like, seriously? Apple pie? After the apple-as foreplay stunt he just pulled? You glared at him, trying to summon up some semblance of indignation, but all that came out was a breathless giggle.

Caleb was an amazing cook. It was a fact known and revered by all who had the good fortune to taste his creations. His apple pie was legendary, a masterpiece of flaky crust, cinnamon-spiced apples, and buttery goodness. The same went for his chicken wings, a fiery, flavorful explosion that could reduce grown men to whimpering, grateful wrecks. And despite everything, despite the teasing, the torment, the sheer exasperation he often inspired, you knew in your heart that he would make you the best damn apple pie you had ever tasted. He poured his heart into everything he did, and you knew that even something as simple as baking a pie was, in his own way, an act of love for you.

"You're serious?" you asked, your voice still shaky with a mixture of arousal and amusement. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. "Although, I might need your… assistance. Someone has to peel the apples, after all."

You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. He was infuriating, maddening, and utterly irresistible. He had a way of pushing your buttons, of challenging you, of making you laugh even when you wanted to strangle him. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way. He was your chaos, your comfort, your perfectly imperfect partner in crime.

"Fine," you said, leaning down to kiss him softly, a lingering, playful brush of your lips against his. "But you're doing the dishes."

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that resonated through your body as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. "It’s not like you would do them anyway. You know that you like to use me any chance you can get.”

You pouted, feigning hurt with an exaggerated frown. "That's not true! I can do house chores any time I get free time." You knew it was a flimsy argument, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control in a situation where you were happily, hopelessly outmatched.

Caleb shook his head, his eyes filled with affection. “And you still like to slack off and it ends with me spoiling you rotten, little brat.” He pinched your cheek playfully, his touch gentle and teasing.

You playfully pushed him, your laughter bubbling up again. “And you still do it.” You knew he enjoyed taking care of you, spoiling you with small gestures and acts of service. It was his love language, and you were fluent.

He kissed your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. The scent of his skin, a musky blend of sweat and apples, filled your senses. “That’s because you’re my princess, Miss Apple.”

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤYOUNG LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Robins x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How would they be as your boyfriend?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Affection Overload: Dick is all about physical affection. Hugs, kisses, holding hands—he’s constantly touching you. If you’re in public, expect him to have an arm around your waist or your hand in his at all times.

Grand Gestures: He loves making big romantic statements. Random flowers delivered to your class? Check. Swinging into your bedroom window just to say goodnight? Double check.

Jealousy Level: Surprisingly chill, but only because he’s confident. If someone flirts with you, he’ll swoop in with a smug smile and casually remind them that you’re his.

Protective Side: He’s sweet and easygoing most of the time, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he turns into serious protector mode. He’s not above scaring people off if necessary.

Clingy but Cute: He hates being away from you. Even if you’re just apart for a day, he’ll text or call constantly. "Miss me yet? Because I miss you."

The Cheerleader Boyfriend: Dick is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a hobby, trying something new, or just having a bad day, he’s there hyping you up like, “You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”

Drama King: If you ever fight, expect him to show up at your door with flowers, chocolates, and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. He cannot stand the idea of you being upset with him.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Acts Tough but Is a Softie: Jason tries to play it cool, but deep down, he’s so soft for you. You’ll catch him staring at you like you hung the moon, and he’ll deny it every time.

Overprotective: Jason is feral when it comes to your safety. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to throw hands. “You okay, babe? Need me to deal with them?”

Big on Small Gestures: He’s not a grand-gesture kind of guy, but he’ll quietly leave your favorite snacks on your desk or slip a note into your bag that says, "Have a good day, idiot."

Jealousy Level: Off the charts. Jason tries to play it cool, but the second someone flirts with you, his hand is on your waist, and his glare is lethal.

Supportive but Real: Jason is your rock. He’ll always be there for you, but he’s not afraid to call you out if he thinks you’re being too hard on yourself. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re amazing. End of story.”

Loves Quiet Time Together: He’s happiest when it’s just the two of you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading. Those moments mean the world to him.

Secretly Romantic: Jason pretends he’s not into cheesy romance, but he’ll randomly do something that makes your heart melt, like showing up with a book he thought you’d like or quoting poetry at the most unexpected times.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Awkwardly Affectionate: Damian isn’t great at expressing his feelings verbally, so his affection comes in the form of small, thoughtful actions. He’ll make sure your tea is brewed perfectly or bring you handmade gifts.

Possessive but Polite: Damian hates sharing your attention. If someone flirts with you, he’ll politely (but firmly) remind them who you belong to. “I believe you’re wasting your time. She’s spoken for.”

Jealousy Level: High but controlled. Instead of losing his temper, he’ll subtly outshine whoever is trying to steal your attention. “Ah, yes, you’ve met my girlfriend. Isn’t she magnificent?”

Protective in a Subtle Way: He’s not loud about it, but Damian is always watching out for you. If someone wrongs you, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. “You’ll find they’re no longer a problem.”

Always Wants to Impress You: Damian is constantly trying to prove himself to you, whether it’s through his art, his fighting skills, or his intellect. He’s desperate for your approval, even if he pretends he’s not.

Secretly Vulnerable: Behind his confident exterior, Damian is terrified of losing you. He doesn’t know how to handle those emotions, so he’ll sometimes withdraw until you reassure him.

Over-the-Top Romantic in Private: When it’s just the two of you, Damian lets his walls down. He’ll read you poetry, kiss your hand, and whisper how much you mean to him.

How They’re Similar

All of them are incredibly protective of you and hate seeing you hurt or upset.

They’re obsessed with making you happy and will go out of their way to ensure you feel loved.

Whether they’re soft and sweet or intense and dramatic, they all love you with their whole heart—and they’re not afraid to show it.

— MASTERLIST ☆⁠

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[nianeyemystic]

💕Lovergirl(boy) Astro Observations💕

These will be aspects, and placements that I've noticed in natal charts. I loooooove a real romantic, someone who yearns, is devoted & deeply feels love in all things.

Venus in Pisces 🥰

Venus in its exaltation is dreamy, romantic, and selfless in love. W this placement, you will embody unconditional love and often romanticism, and idealize your partners. The women I've seen with Venus in Pisces are literally lovers personified. They will find anyway possible to love you downnnn!

Moon in Libra💋

Libra , mm mm mm! Everyone loves a libra. With the moon here you have loves for harmony, balance, and partnership. The Moon here makes someone emotionally fulfilled by being in a loving relationship. You could feel like you're always longing for love, or wanting to be love by somebody.

Venus in the 7th House😘

The love of my life has this placement. Very ideal romantic person to be in love w . Courtship, super sweet gestures, omg & soooo charming. A real flirt too. Venus loves being in the house of partnerships,7H. Having this placement will indicates someone deeply committed to love and romantic connections, prioritizing their partner's happiness.

Neptune in the 5th House💛

This placement gives meeeee, an idealistic and almost cinematic approach to romance. Like think Movie scene, the most romantic movie you've ever seen type of romance. you might fall in love with the idea of love itself. a real lover girl/boy if you will.

Sun or Moon Conjunct Venus❤️‍🔥

Whewwww ! ✨ This aspect is almost always a loving, charming, and affectionate person. My man has this one in Capricorn & it’s so 😍🥺 he literally just loves to be so genuine & cute all the time. I melt all day long being w him. Somebody who is just all around a sweetheart, and can charm the socks off of you lol. They thrive in relationships and tend to attract love easily.

Venus in Cancer💌

Another fav of mine. This placement clearly is a nurturing, protective lover. Being in cancer, Venus will seeks emotional security and closeness in relationships. They adore being needed by their partner. Like I want to be needed by you, is a love language.

Juno in the 1st or 7th House💜

Made to be a wife, wet wife coded energy. Or husband energy. Since Juno, the asteroid of commitment and marriage, in these houses suggests someone who naturally prioritizes long-term partnerships.

Venus Trine Neptune 💞

This aspect is so damn cute to me. It creates a hopeless romantic who views love as magical and transcendent. I loveee seeing this in charts. They’re likely to idealize their partners and put their all into relationships. All or nothing type lovers.

Moon in Taurus💖

The Moon is exalted in Taurus, these natives who seeks stability, sensuality, and comfort in love. They're devoted and loyal to their partner. Grounded lover girls/boys.

Venus Conjunct Mars❤️‍🔥

Last but not least, my fav one. I have this natally & when I say love is alllll I think about. I mean it. I just love love in a sense that consumes me, it drips down my aura. You can quite literally squeeze love from outta me. Such a passionate aspect that combines love and desire. someone who puts their heart and soul into their romantic pursuits. They often have an irresistible charm and thrive on intimacy.

Do you have any of these ? What does love do to you?

@nianeyemystic

[lnfours]

august | l.n

summary: you were never mine ; aka the one where the summer fling comes crashing down, but after an unexpected face in the media pen, lando is left questioning why he ever left.

warnings: pretend lando got a later start in formula one, summer flings, slight brothers best friend!lando, reader ends up working in the industry, kinda second chance romance vibes, fluff, hints of angst if you squint, and mentions of sexual content. i had to cut this short because it was getting super long, so if you want a part two to this make sure to let me know :) anyways, happy august, my loves 🤍 may your air be salty and the rust be on your doors.

listen | masterlist

summer: your favorite time of the year. where you’d spend your days outside, salt heavy in the air and the cool ocean breeze whisking away all your problems. your few months of peace where nothing else in the world mattered more than sitting on the beach by the ocean during the day and sitting by the cozy bonfire after the sun had finally set.

peaceful, until you had met him.

getting swept off your feet by the boy your brother had befriended was the last thing on your mind. but nonetheless, you had. his charming smile with cute dimples had you head over heels. moles charting his skin like constellations making him so much prettier. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t breathtaking, laying on the lounge chair with his curls sitting almost perfectly against his forehead. so unaware at how your eyes danced over his figure behind your sunglasses.

a perfect example of beautiful chaos.

him and his siblings had gotten close to you and your brother, thankful for there to be people their age in the small costal town to befriend. you mostly kept to yourself and his sisters in efforts to push the crush you had quickly developed down. not wanting to start something that could never be finished. not wanting to put your heart on the line just for something to yank him from your grasps.

but after a week or so, you had caved in. getting to know him better every day. he had told you about his life back home, how he was a racer. wanting to make it to formula one, race amongst legends. you had told him about your studies in university, wanting to pursue journalism and things of that nature.

he listened with interest. being the only person who sounded interested in you talking about it, not like the others who had given quick responses when you had told them before. a change that brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart because he actually cared.

he had you opening up to him like a book, wanting nothing more than to understand the beautiful soul that stood in front of him. shared laughs and talks in the kitchen of your family’s vacation home echoing off the walls. sharing your deepest secrets, sharing stories about your youth that normally, you’d cringe about, but he found adorable.

and the two of you got closer, a bond forming between you. lingering glances and touches sending sparks through your bodies. and talks in the kitchen turned into conversations by the fire pit on nights where it’d just be the two of you. weeks of learning about each other. the weeks passed by quickly, and after the first month out of three he had known you like the back of his hand. and you had known everything there was to know about lando norris.

after a couple more weeks of subtle flirting and lingering glances, he had finally grown the courage to ask you what had been prodding at him since the moment he met you.

“can i take you out sometime?”

and like that, all your previous statements about not getting too attached, not wanting something for the sake of it being yanked away, was out the window. you met his green eyes, sparkling in the glow of the bonfire in front of you, a smile on your face as you spoke.

“sure.”

he pulled out all the stops. making reservations for the fancy restaurant downtown and bringing you flowers that had caught his eye in the shop window on the way back from his morning jog. a gesture that made you smile ear to ear and your heart beat quicken. a gesture that made you feel truly loved.

the first date turned into many more. wether it was getting dinner or ice cream in town, or heading towards the beach at sundown to watch the waves crash against the shore. the weeks carried on and you had dinner with his family, all of them ecstatic that he had found someone like you who loved their son the way they did.

you still remembered the day he had written against your skin. your stomach flat against the towel on the sand, back facing the sun that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean as the moon threatened to shine. he was propped up on his elbow, tracing shapes into your skin.

he drew with his fingers and you laughed softly, humming, “hmm, a star?”

he nodded, voice soft as he spoke again, “okay, i have one more. they’re words this time. ready?”

you hummed in approval, his index finger drawing a straight line against your spine.

i.

“i,” you said.

he nodded, writing out the next word.

love.

you furrowed your eyebrows as he drew the ‘e’, “love?”

“yeah,” he said, “last word, put them together.”

your heart squeezed against your chest as he wrote out the final word.

you.

you sat up, meeting his eyes, “you?”

he nodded again, smiling as he tucked the lose strand of hair away from your face.

“i love you.” it sounded heavenly coming from his lips.

you blinked at him, a smile finding its way to your lips, “i love you, too.”

you had pulled him closer by his neck, pressing your lips to his. his hand cupping your cheek, the two of you breaking away when the smiles had taken over your face, too wide to continue the kiss.

“c’mon,” you smiled, getting up from the towel. he followed your lead with a questioning look as you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the other hand grabbed your sandals. taking off towards the private entrance to the beach the lovely vacation home had come with.

“where’re you going?” he laughed, following you anyway. chasing after you with the towel in his hand.

“come find out!”

and he did, following you back up to the house. once he caught up, you were inside and up the stairs. you shut the door behind him, pulling him closer to you as your back pressed against the white wooden door.

“what’re you up to?” he smirked, letting your hands snake around his neck as his found their home on your hips.

“well, no one’s gonna be back for another couple hours,” you trailed on. he smiled, shaking his head.

“absolute minx.”

you smiled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his. he had immediately taken control, his hands moving to the back of your thighs before you understood that he wanted you to jump. he caught you with ease, never letting his lips leave yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, walking back towards your bed before he laid you down carefully.

you smiled as he climbed over you, leaving kisses against the exposed skin of your tummy in his path before his face met yours again, nose brushing against yours, “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

your hands roamed the skin of his back as his squeezed your hips before he pulled away, breathless.

“you’re sure?” he asked softly, “i don’t want this to be something you regret.”

you nodded, reaching behind you and pulling at the ties of your bikini top, tossing it to the side. he watched you with love filled eyes, mouth agape as your head hit the pillows again. a hand coming to rest against his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you smiled, “i love you, lando.”

and after that, you’d often find yourself twisted in your bedsheets with him. your head against his bare chest as your nails drew shapes into his skin. his lips leaving soft kisses to your hairline.

after one specific night, you had fallen asleep against him when he got the call. softly moving you to your side of the bed before walking towards the connected bathroom. the call he had been desperately waiting for.

it was finally his moment. he was making it big.

“can you be here monday?”

he glanced down at the date on his phone. it was two days from now. he’d never make it unless he left now.

he glanced back into the bedroom where your sleeping figure laid, head resting against the pillow as you slept peacefully. he swallowed, immediately feeling guilty. he should wake you up.

“lando?”

“hmm?” he quickly snapped back to the phone call, “sorry, uhm, you said monday?”

“yeah, just to sign some things. do some press, show you around, that sort of thing.”

he took a deep breath, “okay, yeah. sure, sounds good. i’ll see you monday.”

“see you monday,” zak brown’s voice was warm on the other end, “safe travels.”

lando pressed the red button with shaky hands, shoving his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked back into the bedroom. he grabbed his hoodie off the end of the bed, immediately feeling regret as he looked over your peaceful state. how you were unaware that he was about to leave and never come back.

and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a mumbled, “i love you,” to your hair, he walked out of the room. walked right out of your life just as quick as he had entered it.

when you woke up the next morning confused that he was no longer with you in your bed. you tried to call, but no answer. you were met with silence. even in your texts you were met with the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of each one. tears flowing down your cheeks as you were left wondering what you had done for him to disappear. to pretend like you were never a thing.

it wasn’t until the fall that you had seen his face again. this time on an instagram post from mclaren. announcing him as a full time driver. he wore a smile, the same floppy curls you had loved, were still messy. hitting against his forehead. he had finally got what he wanted.

and the years went on, you continued to see him pop up every so often. celebrating podium placements and achievements, finally living the life he wanted. the life he had suddenly chose that no longer included you.

he had checked in on you every so often, too. smiling softly when your face popped up on his screen as he’d scroll through your account. you had the life you wanted too, graduating from university and smiling at the camera as you held your diploma. the hard work you had put in finally paying off and meaning something.

he lost track at the amount of messages he had typed out and deleted in your dms. lost track of all the times he had wished he had told you, lost track of the different outcomes he had came up where the ending had you in it. even after convincing himself you were better off out of this lifestyle, he couldn’t help but wish you were.

the knocking on his drivers room had pulled him out of his thoughts, swiping out of your instagram account as the woman smiled sweetly in the doorway.

“they want you for media.”

he nodded, tossing his phone to the couch, tying the papaya race suit around his waist and slipping the mclaren cap back onto his curls, sporting it backwards as he followed the woman down the hallway.

“where’s oscar?”

“he’s already there,” she said sweetly, “hasn’t been there long, though. only a few minutes.”

he nodded, smiling politely at the woman before entering the media pen. she guided him to the opening, smiling before stepping to the side. he took a sip from his water bottle, smiling at the camera man who tapped your shoulder to get your attention. an apologetic smile on your face as you spoke, turning towards the fence, “sorry-“

the same green eyes met yours and the both of you stood in shock for a moment. sure, you had known you were going to bump into him eventually, but on your first day? was the media pen really lacking that many reporters?

“y/n?” he asked, voice soft as your heart hit the floor.

you swallowed, gripping your notepad a little harder as you sent him a tight lipped smile, “hi,”

“since when do you,” he stammered, tripping over his own words before taking a breath, “since when do you work for sky?”

“todays my first day, actually,” you said, a nervous smile on your face, and if he noticed, he thankfully didn’t mention it, “i see mclaren’s been treating you well.”

“y/n, can we-“

“let’s get started, yeah?” you dodged his question, glancing down at your notebook. he nodded softly in response and you motioned for your camera man to begin recording.

as you stood there asking him questions about his race, all he could think about was if you had wondered the same things he did. if you, too, laid awake at night and thought about all the different scenarios and lifetimes where the two of you ended up together. he wondered if you hated him for how he left you, without a proper goodbye.

he didn’t know it, but you could never hate him. even after all these years you couldn’t hate him with a single bone in your body. not when your heart still beats for him.

he opened his mouth to speak after you ended the interview, but it shut quickly as the woman in papaya cut off his thoughts, whisking him away to do more interviews. you watched as he left, a sad and regretful look on his face as he made his way to the next reporter.

“you alright?” your camera man asked, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip. a nervous tick of yours that everyone seemed to have caught onto.

you nodded, straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, pushing every thought you had to the side berore smiling at the man next to you, “yep, who do we have next?”

[alchemistc]

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

Tommy blinks awake and immediately wishes he hadn't. This is his third time waking up, and apparently they listened to him when he asked them to slow down his morphine drip because everything hurts.

The busted leg he remembers - they'd kept him awake long enough to explain that they'd do everything they could to keep it but... Well. No buts, in the end, just titanium and enough pins to make sure he'll never get through TSA quickly ever again. Thank fuck most of his flying he does on his own.

Christ, if he has to get recertified...

Fractured ribs, a punctured lung, three broken fingers but thank god his arms had survived relatively intact.

The bruising on his face screams before the rest of it does, which is just - it's silly, actually, that somewhere in his head he's thinking about how awful he must look. Of course he looks fucking awful, he survived a helicopter crash. Why would he look great? He should look as bad as he feels.

On a scale from 1 to Fuck Off he's very firmly toeing the line into Go Screw Yourself.

The knock startles him.

The startle wrenches something in his neck area, and Tommy groans through the pain. Shit. Screw his dad just that little bit more for providing the perfect genetics for a proclivity for addiction.

Evan.

He's standing at the door, looking apologetic, head ducked a little like he does when he either wants something, or thinks he's done something wrong. Puppy eyes, he'd heard Hen call it once, while she mimed barfing, because Tommy thought it was adorable.

He still thinks it's adorable.

Fuck.

"Hey," he says, in his Hospital Voice. (Tommy is new to this voice, but he's growing more used to it, now: third time awake and it's the third time Evan's been there. In a chair at his side, flirting with a nurse while he wrote on Tommy's chart, now perched in the doorframe looking... a bit grungy if Tommy's being honest. Like he hasn't slept in days. Like those are the same clothes Tommy first saw him in.

Evan dances in the door and it's the first time he's noticed that one of his arms is tucked behind his back. "If that's a bouquet you should know I'm allergic," Tommy says, and doesn't hate the way his voice sounds quite as much as he has in recent memory. He's almost managed to get back the ironic lilt.

Evan's smile widens. "You're lying, and besides, you can't be allergic to every flower. Are you allergic to the corpse flower?" He pauses. Narrows his eyes like he's heading Tommy off at the pass. "You can't say the smell is as bad as the allergies would be."

"I feel like a corpse flower," Tommy intones, and he wonders - is that - is this what - they're just not gonna talk about it? What he'd said, in the air, with half the public servants of the city listening in? Or the fact that Evan hasn't left this hospital in two days? Or whatever he's still hiding behind his back?

Evan steps into the room. Rolls his shoulders with a shit-eating grin. Brandishes the item he's been hiding - a stuffed chicken. There's something sticking to the end of one leg, and Tommy squints to try to make it out. Looks like -

"Bobby got it for you! He said you'd know what the knife was for."

Tommy groans, tips his chin against his pillow, groans again because the pain is radiating throughout his body. Evan steps closer.

"I really wish you'd at least let them give you the muscle relaxants," Evan murmurs, closer, so much closer. Hand on the bed, fingers lifted like he's thinking about squeezing Tommy's thigh, and god - god, he wants that. But they can't just - they're in this whole mess because they talk around shit instead of about it.

Evan sets the chicken on the table next to the bed. His smile is loose and light, but his eyes are worried.

"I'm still pissed they put me on a morphine drip that first day, Evan, it's in my chart not to -." Evan bridges the gap, distracting Tommy thoroughly - fingers soft and light, careful, sliding across his thigh and dangerously close to the crease of his groin. Even if he weren't in a hospital bed he's in way too much pain to even think of getting it up but it's compelling. It's distracting. Tommy never wants him to move his hand.

"Hey," he says, and Tommy blinks. Frowns. Drinks in the sight of Evan's plaintive head tilt and tries to breathe. He hasn't really been this lucid, before. "I have one more thing for you."

Tommy raises a brow. Clenches his jaw. Tries not to freak the fuck out when Evan reaches for the pocket of his likely rank flannel and pulls out a suspiciously small box. No. No, absolutely not, has he learned nothing from Tommy's multiple attempts to get him to slow down.

Evan pops the lid.

Tommy feels the hysterical laughter bubbling in his chest and tries to push it down because laughing right now would jostle so many fucking things and he can't -

"So. Um. I know we - I know we still need to - to sit down and, like. Talk. About things," Evan says, while Tommy stares at the metal-on-velvet. "A-and this isn't me asking for anything. I'm just..." He presses a fist to his eyes, rubs, fingers opening to rub at the scruff on his jaw. "So. I have a spare room. And you won't be able to manage stairs for a minute, and - and I have, like, so much PTO, Tommy, an insane amount of it, and I just thought. While you get your bearings..." Tommy watches him, still quiet. "It really sucked being on my own dealing with a bum leg. And - maybe - maybe we take some time to talk. Crack open that champagne once your doctor clears it."

Tommy stares. Tommy contemplates. Tommy sucks in a deep breath and swallows hard.

"You want me to sleep in the spare room?"

One of Evan's hands is still on his thigh. The other is still palming a house key. His grin is wry. "I would like nothing less, but I thought I'd offer."

Tommy's hand has been creeping steadily towards the one on his leg for a minute now. He makes the final effort, curls fingers around Evans wrist. "Please tell me your mattress is off the floor."

"There's even a top sheet."

Tommy feels his lip quirking. It had been an almost-argument, a generational gap they couldn't bridge, something so small and silly it hadn't seemed worth the time to fight about it when there were better things they could be doing with the bed. He wishes they'd fought about it. He hopes they have a thousand fights ahead of them.

Tommy releases the hand circling Evans wrist, palms the key. Evan beams.

"It's not exactly traditional, but, uh - you have the one watch you refuse to take off for anything, and I wasn't gonna make you like, a paper crane, so..."

"Traditi - Evan, what?"

His smile goes a little coy. "I know there's like, a break in there, or whatever, but - uh - happy anniversary."

Tommy wants to cry. He wants to grin until his lips hurt as much as the rest of him. He wants -

"Come down here and kiss me, you lunatic," Tommy says, and Evan grins as he obliges.

[onecheerfulmoron]

🔥🥵 Sex Appeal 🔥🥵

Powerful/Hypnotic/Magnetic

(These are based on my personal experience/observation)

* I differentiate sex appeal and god/goddess appeal (which I will make another post of :)*

*The following aspects are what I have & seen from other's charts and was able to witness their little superpower lol*

Sun/Rising/MC/Venus/Mars/Mercury conjunct Lilith

Sun/Rising/MC/Venus/Mars/Mercury conjunct Pluto

Sun/Rising/MC/Venus conjunct Mars

Sun/Rising/MC/Venus/Mars/Mercury conjunct Uranus

Sun/Rising/Moon/MC/Venus/Mars/Mercury/Saturn/Uranus/Pluto/Lilith/in the 1st, 8th, & 10th house

Any of those planets in Scorpio/Capricorn/or Leo

Trines/Opposition/Square/Sextile also apply. Conjunctions are the most powerful and/or tighter the orbs of the aspect. Orbs (0-3), the more prominent it plays out in your life. Orbs (4-7) is somewhat in the middle.

The way the sex appeal of the planets is emphasized by (Lilith, Pluto, & Mars) can be better understood by applying the planet's role to it.

Sun: Who you are. So your personality without a filter. *you can naturally get someone interested by being yourself. No masks are needed for you!

Ascendant/Rising: literally how you look anywhere anytime. Through your appearance, mannerism, & fashion sense. *You don’t have to do shit or try and people be like👼🏾 😳 🥵

Moon: the way you think is what you act upon. Whatever sign your moon falls under, you would execute the energy of that sign when people get to know you. I feel that whatever planet your moon is aspects by is how your mindset would operate. The house placement of the moon would show where your emotions run. *personally i think the placement/sign of the moon contributes more to sex appeal than the aspect itself.

Mercury: your voice and communication style. *It’s those people that can make anyone fall for them just by talking. They have this aura where people want to listen to them and find their sense of communication interesting & funny. Also, they are the treasure box of others dark secrets. People love telling them shit. Gossip holders plus sharp tongue ☕️.

Mars: your expression, enthusiasm, or when you display dominance/leadership. *At this point act manly or motivated whenever lol. Whether it's through a form of hobby to being authoritative, you will catch someone’s eye.

Venus: beauty, fashion style, the way you care for others, how you are in love, etc. Most people with these sex appeal aspects above involving Venus are highly desired to be in a relationship with by others. They can get someone wrapped around their fingers if they are naughty lol 😈.

MC: similar to Asc, but it’s like reputation matters so they make sure to play their part. So it's like dressing up or behaving a certain way in public to get the reaction they want which will be attained. Lowkey a chameleon. *I have noticed that MC is a more refined/mature type, probably bc the MC has to do with career as well.

Uranus: Being unique like an alien. Shocking, Magnetic, & Unique are how I would describe individuals with Uranus aspects. People will remember you 100% in someway, which depends on what it’s aspected by.

Pluto/Lilith: they both are powerful when it comes to intimidating others as well as getting others obsessed. Drawing jealousy also is relevant, unfortunately.

Examples:

I have a male friend who is a Scorpio with Lilith conjunct to his Sun & Mars. Man, he gets ladies of all ages flirting with him. They tell him their darkest secrets they don’t tell anybody else. I and my friend worked in the same office together. Ladies are walking past his cubicle like “Heyyyyy…*Name*. Why don’t you stop by my cubicle no more…..don’t you miss me lol”. Random ladies, he doesn’t even talk to on the other side of the office know his name, like what!

A girlfriend of mine has Venus conjunct Pluto. The girl be getting men left and right. She was on a bus one day and told me that a stranger kept looking at her and told her when they got off the bus if he got a chance. Mind you he was in his 40's. Even in high school, people were looking at her from afar and would try to hit on her eventually. She attracted men and females.

I have Mars conjunct Pluto and when I'm active or energetic, men are interested in me. So when I'm in a good mood and I have excessive energy whether at the gym or being a crazy girl in school they find me interesting and funny. Celebrities with these aspects are always known for their roles and the character they display versus too much of their real personality. Ex: Bella Thorne, James Corden, Jared Padalecki (supernatural show), etc.

Scorpio Sun with Moon in the 8th house. There was this guy I was interested in with this aspect. Man, I was digging through his entire past trying to know "the real him". Searched his name online to asking him multiple questions about himself to put the pieces together. I knew more about him than he knew about me. Yes, he was adopted and his dad was some sort of instructor lol, and No, I don't do that anymore. Don't have the next victim yet lol.

Uranus conjunct Sun individuals can get someone hooked unto them for their personality and energy. People are just fascinated by them and actually enjoy being with them. My friend’s cousin has this aspect and man she found herself in a relationship so quick. The guy didn’t give two shit about how she dressed or looked, but fell for her quirkiness. She has a unique sense of fashion too. My friend told me how she was jealous of her cousin because she can get random men’s attention so fast like love at first sight. Yes, she married quick too. That relationship was like 3 month long and are expecting a child!

I have Uranus trine my Mercury and yes people remember whatever I say. I went to the gym with my friend before and the front desk guys asked me a question and I guess I said some funny. Everytime I went to that gym, they remembered that one conversation. Even after I switched over to another gym, I saw one of the front desk guy from my last gym and he would tell me what I said from before. Like I gotta make sure I don’t say none stupid especially to someone important lol.

Scorpio moon individuals would be extra secretive than the sun. Our mind is where we hold our opinions/thoughts/secrets…and if it’s under the sign Scorpio then all shit is preplanned of what can and can’t be spoken to others. No matter what the sun sign may be, Scorpio moon individuals will limit what they tell others, therefore making them magnetic. People want to figure out what they’re hiding.

Do you have any stories with these aspects?

P.S.: Don't be judgy about my color coordination for MC. I don't have any other colorful buckets to choose from lol.

[siennasfantasies]

Couple of the Year: In the End, Love Overpowers Fame.

As the years passed, Katsuki's fame grew steadily. His name quickly became known in the charts, and despite not being the number-one Hero, his contributions were never overlooked. You, too, had your share of fame as an ever-rising supermodel. Despite the massive recognition both of you received, your private lives remained untouched.

"DYNAMIGHT!"

"DYNAMIGHT! OVER HERE!"

"ONE QUESTION, DYNAMIGHT! JUST ONE INTERVIEW!"

The Met Gala was always a spectacle, and every year, the crowd of paparazzi seemed to grow larger and more relentless.

"You know, with all your fame, I can't help but wonder when you're finally going to fall and fail."

Katsuki’s posture didn’t change, but his eyes shifted to the source of the voice. His anger flared at the sight of the man standing next to him, grinning smugly at the cameras. Yoshiki Kenai was tall, brunette, with perfect teeth and an annoying level of confidence.

He worked in the same modeling industry as you, and ever since you’d entered the scene, he’d made it his personal mission to flirt with you at every opportunity. Fortunately, this year, his advances were more restrained.

"I question your logic, Bakugou. Should you really be settling down so quickly when your job is so risky? It's a selfish decision, really. Your fame is honestly undeserved, a selfish wannabe hero is all you are." Yoshiki now turned his head toward Katsuki, his smirk widening as he awaited a response.

Katsuki knew his job was dangerous. Every mission carried a risk. But for Yoshiki—of all people—to lecture him? His blood boiled as he fixed the man with a scowl.

"What about you? Do you hear the crowd? You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who’ll never gain recognition unless your in my presence. The people need me. I can't be replaced. You, on the other hand, can be." Katsuki spat his words through gritted teeth, his face twisted with anger. Despite his fury, his posture remained casual, hands tucked into his pants, stance relaxed.

Yoshiki’s smirk faltered, and his face reddened in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Before he could fire back, Katsuki continued, his expression now calmer, though his voice still held a trace of irritation.

"At least you're smart enough to talk to me in front of the cameras. You know damn well that if you said this anywhere else, your ass would already be halfway across the world."

Katsuki turned his gaze back to the paparazzi, scanning the crowd slowly as he continued speaking.

"Smile bright, Kenai. Take advantage of this privilege. Maybe then you'll get some recognition just from being seen with me."

Yoshiki quickly walked off, his forced smile back in place, but his posture was stiff, and his cheeks were still burning with embarrassment.

"That was interesting," Kirishima said, appearing beside Katsuki, his expression a mix of amusement and mild concern. "Wonder how the paparazzi will spin this little interaction."

"Who gives a fuck?" Katsuki muttered, the faintest smile tugging at his lips as his earlier annoyance began to fade. His gaze shifted to you in the distance, gleefully interacting with the crowd. He was only at this event for you, and now, seeing you so happy, he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

"As long as that little fucker knows his place and stays away from me and my wife, the paparazzi can say whatever they want." You glanced over at your husband just as his eyes locked with yours, filled with affection.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming. No matter how many fans or events you attended, it was only Katsuki’s gaze that could disarm you so completely. Katsuki, too, realised how easily he folded when you smiled at him. Despite his fears about dangerous missions, it would always quickly disappear the moment his eyes met yours.

The next day, the cover of nearly every magazine and website featured you and Katsuki. You both stood a little apart, with Kirishima standing next to Katsuki. The crowd and flashing lights surrounded all three of you, but no matter the chaos, your eyes always seemed to find each other.

The headline read: Couple of the Year: In the End, Love Overpowers Fame.

Kirishima texted Katsuki in playful annoyance at being portrayed as the third wheel—though, in truth, he was always more than happy to play that role.

[fear-is-truth]

PLAYER 124 / NAM-GYU as your boyfriend

warnings — kinda toxic. mention of drug use. a/n — who should i write for next…

남규

nam-gyu is the kind of partner who constantly needs to feel in control. he has a fragile ego, so he’d want to prove he’s the one in charge in the relationship, even if it means belittling you in arguments. he’s not the type to openly apologise; instead, he’d try to “make it up” by buying you gifts or doing something overly performative to smooth things over.

wouldn’t outright say “i love you” (saranghae; 사랑해) unless it’s in the middle of an argument or you’re threatening to leave. it wouldn’t be the “romantic” type of “i love you”; it’d be desperate, like, “fine, i love you, okay? is that what you want to hear?” then he’d get mad at himself for even saying it lol.

he’d have a complicated way of showing affection—instead of saying something sweet, he’d tell you, “that hoodie looks ugly as hell, but you somehow make it work.” or, “you’re lucky you’ve got me looking out for you.” it’s almost backhanded, like he’s scared of being too soft.

when it comes to physical touch, he’d only be comfortable initiating it when he’s in control. he’d sling an arm over your shoulder in public to make sure everyone knows you’re his, but in private, he’d sit stiffly until you coaxed him to relax. if you tried to cuddle him or play with his hair, he’d grumble, “stop being clingy,” but wouldn’t pull away—and if you did stop, he’d be like, “what, now you’re ignoring me?”

he’d NEVER let you see him cry. he’d bottle up everything until it spills over in a way that’s either pure rage or self-destructive. but maybe, just maybe, he’d have a mini breakdown and choke out something like, “i’m so fucking tired,” and let you hold him for a minute before he shuts it all down again and pretends it didn’t happen.

his jealousy would be off the charts. if he even suspects someone else is catching your attention, he’d immediately become aggressive and violent toward the perceived “threat.” then he’d accuse you of flirting or not appreciating him enough, even if you’ve done nothing wrong.

he’d have this really toxic habit of trying to “test” your loyalty. like, he’d say something purposely cruel just to see how much you’d put up with, and if you didn’t take the bait, he’d either feel validated or spiral into self-loathing because he’s scared you’ll leave. he’s the kind of guy who pushes people away but gets furious when they actually go.

he’s manipulative and would use your vulnerabilities against you during fights, twisting your words to make himself seem like the victim. he thrives on power dynamics, so if you’re someone with a soft heart, he’d use that to his advantage to get his way. he’s not above emotional blackmail.

obsesses over how others perceive him, so he’d put a lot of energy into making sure you’re impressed by him. even if he’s not doing well, he’d brag about some minor victory just to hear you say you’re proud of him. if you ever criticised him—like genuinely, not jokingly—it’d eat him alive. he’d act like it didn’t bother him, but he’d bring it up days later in a passive-aggressive comment like, “guess i’m just not good enough for you, huh?”

he strikes me as the guy who’d buy you expensive gifts, to prove he’s capable of taking care of you. he’d probably get something super flashy and impractical, and then get annoyed if you fawn over it immediately. “what, you don’t like it? i spent a lot of money on that shit.”

deep down, i feel like he’s terrified of being alone. he doesn’t know how to show it in a healthy way, so it comes out as possessiveness. like, he’d constantly ask where you’re going, who you’re with, and what you’re doing—not because he genuinely doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust himself to be worth staying for. if you ever left him on read, even for a little while, he’d overthink it to the point of spiraling, doing drugs etc.

has zero tolerance when it comes to anyone disrespecting you. if someone said something rude or crossed a line, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight them to defend your honour.

definitely not the type to plan cute dates or do anything traditionally romantic. instead, he’d drag you along to things he already likes—bars, shady clubs—and expect you to have fun. but sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, he might surprise you by doing something actually thoughtful, like showing up at your door with your favourite street snack or insisting on watching a movie he secretly hates just because he knows it makes you happy.

his love language would probably be acts of service, but only in an effed-up way where it feeds his own need for validation. he’d show his love by offering to “solve” your problems, but he’d expect endless praise for it. he’d remind you constantly of how lucky you are to have him.

feels completely out of his depth when you’re sad, but he can’t stand seeing you like that. instead of asking what’s wrong (because vulnerability makes him squirm), he’d focus on practical things. if you haven’t eaten, he’d come back with takeout—probably ordering your favourite without even asking because he’s memorised it by now. he wouldn’t outright express his concern, though. instead, he’d shove the food at you with a gruff, “here. eat this before you waste away or something.”

despite his flaws, when you’re sad or feeling low, there’s a small part of him that genuinely wants to help, even if he doesn’t know how. he’d sit awkwardly next to you, fidgeting with his rings, and mutter, “you’re stronger than this, you know. don’t let whatever’s bothering you win.” …. the closest thing to a pep talk he can manage.

nam-gyu is FAR from an ideal boyfriend—he’s moody, defensive, and often toxic in the way he handles his emotions. his need for control and his inability to communicate openly make him exhausting to deal with at times, especially when his insecurities get the better of him. but underneath all that mess, he knows he’s piece of work, and a part of him feels like you’ll wake up one day and realise you deserve better. this fear makes him hold on too tightly, sometimes suffocatingly so, but it also drives him to try—clumsily, imperfectly, but genuinely for you. he doesn’t know how to love in a healthy way, but he does love, and he loves deeply.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[p0orbaby]

if you’re still doing blurbs could you do one with alexia where she’s dating a doctor who has a very busy schedule, and alexia has a concussion in the training and gors to the hospital, and alexia sends a message to reader telling about it but r doesn’t see and when shes going to take care of the next patient it’s alexia? lmao or maybe alexia and r have a daughter and her daughter gets injured and shes the next patient and r goes feral about it idk

i changed the injury but i hope you still like it !

-

The shift is hell, as usual. You’re striding through corridors, flicking through paperwork and half-listening to one of the interns ramble about a patient they’re struggling to diagnose. Something about abdominal pain and “maybe a foreign object ingestion?” You nod distractedly, mentally filing it under deal with later.

“Just send them for imaging,” you say, not breaking your stride. “And next time, don’t say ‘foreign object’ like you’re narrating a true crime documentary. It’s unsettling”

The intern stammers out a response, but you’re already waving them off. “You’ll be fine. Go. Be great or something.” Another day, another long list of problems, it seems. You let yourself drift into autopilot, the professional rhythm of your job taking over as you stride towards the cubicle and pull back the curtain.

“Hi, I’m Dr Putellas,” you begin, still not looking up. “What seems to be—”

“¿Estás bromeando?”

You freeze. Your grip on the clipboard tightens, and your heart drops into your stomach because that voice, that exasperated, honey-warm, decidedly unimpressed voice, belongs to your wife.

Your injured wife, apparently.

“Alexia?” you blurt, snapping your head up to find her sitting on the exam table, her left leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack balanced precariously on her knee.

She doesn’t look happy.

“Hola, cariño,” she says, dry as dust. “Fancy seeing you here”

For a moment, all you can do is stare, caught between disbelief and irritation. “What—what happened? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did call you,” she replies, gesturing to her phone sitting next to her on the table. “Several times. Apparently, you’re very busy and important”

Your stomach twists with guilt as you instinctively check your phone. Sure enough, three missed calls from Alexia. You curse under your breath, shoving it back into your pocket and stepping closer.

“Are you okay?” you ask, switching instantly from doctor mode to wife mode. “What happened? Is it bad? Why didn’t someone—”

“Relax, doctor,” Alexia interrupts, lifting her free hand to stop your avalanche of questions. “It’s not that bad. Just a tackle gone wrong at training”

You glance at the ice pack, then at her knee, which looks swollen but not grotesque. “Define ‘not that bad.’ Can you move it?”

Alexia sighs like you’re overreacting and flexes her leg a little, wincing but managing. “See? It’s fine. Probably just a sprain”

“Sprains don’t feel fine,” you mutter, already pulling on gloves and grabbing your supplies. You kneel down, gently pressing around her knee, watching her face for any reaction.

“Your hands are cold,” she says, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

“Your knee is swollen,” you counter.

“Touché”

You’re quiet for a moment, focused on the task. The swelling isn’t as bad as you feared, but it’s enough to set off every alarm in your mind. You sit back on your heels, exhaling slowly.

“You need imaging,” you say firmly. “Just to be safe”

“Of course I do,” she replies, her tone light but her eyes softening. “Because I’m married to the most thorough doctor in this hospital”

“Don’t flirt with me right now,” you say, though your lips twitch in a betrayed smile. “You scared me”

Her expression softens further, and she reaches out, brushing her fingers against your cheek. “Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to”

You close your eyes briefly, leaning into her touch. Then, with a deep breath, you stand up, trying to refocus.

“Alright,” you say briskly, grabbing the chart again. “Let’s get you x-rayed and figure out what’s going on. And after that, you’re resting. No arguing.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alexia says, her smile turning mischievous. “But I might need some help resting”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Careful, Putellas. I can still make you wait for a nurse”

“Please.” She gestures around dramatically. “You’d never leave me at the mercy of hospital food”

“Not unless you keep up that attitude,” you mutter, but your heart is already lighter.

You press a quick kiss to her temple before heading for the door. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere”

“Where would I go?” she calls after you, gesturing to her knee.

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART2

VENUS/EROS IN PISCES/AT 12, 24° = Pisces degree points 2 someone being sexually attracted 2 "lost souls", they want someone who's willing 2 let them be their saviour✨. They could also hold deep thoughts about being saved by a lover themselves, and the idea of "escaping" 2 their "happily ever after". Sex them up with how artistic/poetic u can be. That shit always works. They need someone who's willing 2 show them a kind heart, while also fulfilling their deepest desires/sexual urges.

VENUS/EROS IN SCORPIO/AT 8, 20° = Scorpio degree points 2 someone wanting a lover that's more sexually charged in private, and someone who's willing 2 give up their "thought patterns", as they can be a little "obsessive" with wanting to know everything, or them investigating when they feel the other persons sexual attraction "dying down a little bit"🧯🔥. These people can easily find your weak spots, so they won't disappoint. They need someone who's willing2 give them their soul, as they do the same💀😍.

VENUS/EROS IN LEO/AT 5, 17, 29° = Leo degree points 2 wanting 2 be praised all the time, and a need 2 praise, if the other person does good🐕. They want someone who worships them, puts them on a pedestal👑. They need someone who knows that they're not 2nd place, but always 1st place. They put passion, & sexual attraction/admiration at the top of the list, of things they NEED, 2want to get sexual with somebody. They need platonic, romantic, &sexual flirting from people all around, 2 get that "confidence in", people telling them how fine they look/how sexy they are🌟🌟.

Moira asteroid (638) conjunct 5th house can show fated romances/affairs throughout life, or with one special person💜.

A MAN’S Venus in Leo/1st house is mostly all about themselves in bed, they want 2 get off first and then maybe, if you're lucky, they'll finish u off2. No hate, I just don't fuck with it 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Black Moon Lilith conjunct Vertex in a MAN’S chart shows that he's meant 2 have fated experiences, that puts him out of the "conventional". Like him dating/seeing younger women&getting shit4it, or him being "thrown" into situations where he has 2 "defend himself", because of the women he's in a sexual relationship/romantic relationship with🙄. These fated connections/experiences is what turns him into who he's supposed 2 be - someone who doesn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion - BML energy🖕🖕💜.

Medusa asteroid (149) conjunct ASC in a WOMAN’S chart will make herself look "tempting", or "available" in front of a man, but as soon as he looks or tries 2 hit on her, she'll degrade him. "U disgusting man, or "u pig"!! "I didn't look at u, or made any attempt 2 flirt with u, whatsoever"😂.

A MAN WITH Venus, Mars and Saturn in Capricorn = Ultimate dom. They'll make you scream their name over, and over again, & won't stop until he made you cum multiple times. He's REALLY sexually experienced, when he reach his older years, like from 30&up.

Lust asteroid : 4386 conjunct Jupiter = crazy sexual needs. Even if they've had crazy sex all night = they can go again the next day, all day😵‍💫😲🤣🤣 Mars in Virgo/8th house in Virgo in a MAN'S chart typically finds "younger people" 2 be way more sexual attractive, than people at their own age. They're attracted 2 the feeling of "feeling young", while being with a young woman/man❤️. They want someone they can have an insane sexual attraction2, while also being able 2 "teach" the other person a lot in the sexual department. Them wanting young/inexperienced women.

Neptune conjunct Black moon Lilith can make you so damn ethereal. Especially if you got Mars or Venus aspecting it 2. people want 2 rip your clothes off but r afraid 2 even say hi 2 u😭😭😭. Afraid you'll reject/embarrass them.

💜💜💜💜 Look at aspects from Venus (the planet of love&attraction), & Mars (the planet of sex), 2c what u like, & what u need sexually💋.

👅👅👅 Mars in Gemini changes their mind a lot when it comes 2 sex. One day they like 2 dominate, & the next they like 2 be submissive. It really comes down to how they feel on that particular day. &it makes sense. Mars (planet of sex&) in Gemini - Duality. A MAN’S Venus/Mars in Leo wants praises from u. They want 2 hear how good they are, and amazing they are in bed. If u don't, they can get bored of u, and seek somebody else - get their "needs" taken care of by another person👀 👀.

If your 8th house ruler is in your 8th house = sex can be so transformative for u but you'll probably only hookup with a few people throughout your life tho. Only having sex with people you feel a deep soul connection with.

🍆🍆 A MAN'S Mars/Venus/in 11th house in Aquarius is FREAKYYYYY, they'll try anything with their partner. MOSTLY ON VIDEO/cam🙃🙃🙃 PERIOD.

A WOMAN'S Venus in Pisces/8th/12th house is the "I'll do anything I can 2 satisfy your needs, before my own". I love these placements, they want their partner 2 feel all the pleasure and doesn't even think about their own.

Taurus Mercury/Mars LOVES 2 be neck kissed, damn. Just go wild there and they'll go crazy 4 u, I promise 👄👅. MEN with Mars in Taurus/Taurus in 8th house = attracted 2 women that always looks "beautiful", "sexy, but classy", "ocd around looks", "model looking". They want a gorgeous woman, that can "cater" 2 their most sensual needs 🫦💦. Find some whipped cream/ice cream + your tongue&his body = go loca. If he doesn't go crazy, (u probably have the wrong chart😂🤡). Webb asteroid (3041) conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile BML can indicate doing "Web porn", "only fans", "showing yourself off, in a "sexual, provocative way online"🧯💨🔥.

Mars/Venus in Gemini/3rd house loves using toys! But they especially love2 use their hands&fingers!! They can also love oral👅.

REPOST OF SOME OF MY POSTS FROM MY OLD BLOG/SOME NEW COMMENTS

THANKS4READING💘 Appreciate u, always!

[moonastro]

Groom persona chart

Asteroid Union in the houses ( 1585)

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

The union in the groom persona chart represents the meeting between you and your husband. It can identify the environment, place, and symbolic values when meeting them.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

✨special notes to take in before we get started-

🌼if union is in retrograde the union can be long going, like you and your spouse may take their time to actually start hanging out or start talking even especially if in 3rd house.

🌼if neptune is aspecting union may symbolise the union can have some secrecy or misinformation targeted towards you. depending in the house it's in can tell you why, like if in 2nd house you may misinform yourself into thinking your spouse may have a lot of money.

🌼union conjunct pluto may indicate a cold eery response from your half during the meeting. something may catch your eye about your future spouse but you wont know why. omggg and you may also hide the fact that you are interested in them. like you will keep a poker face or act like you are not interested when meeting them.

🌼union aspecting venus (more accurate if in 8th house) can suggest you secretly having an interest in them after the meeting so to say. union can involve some third party being involved such as a feminine individual.

Union in 1st house: for this placement you may meet your future spouse at a time of reflection and minding your own business. There could be some independence going on that day, you can meet your spouse and be completely by yourself that day also. You can also be the bold one here and approach them first or you may also notice them first. There could be conflict going on that day, whether you fall out with someone or someone around you may be arguing whenever you meet your spouse. Also vehicles can be involved here, you can literally meet them when driving back to your house from work or something.

Union in 2nd house: the meeting of you and your spouse can be very casual. May happen when doing something you find pleasure in such as going to treat yourself for a spa, a nice lunch etc. this meeting may involve some flirtations amongst one another so subtle flirting may happen when you both meet. On the other hand, this placement can bring some familiarity between you two so you may already know your spouse or have encountered them before or you may feel like it.

Union in 3rd house: the union may occur in your childhood neighbourhood. this may be a service occupied area or space so there can be a lot of background technological stuff ging on such as radio being blasted, other people being there as well, a social event with people being in the background. this place can be where travel is needed to get there which i know is literally everywhere because you need to travel everywhere if its outside your house but this is short distance literally like as far as one town to the other town. or this can be considered a bit of travel for you. If Union is in retrograde remember that communication may be very limited and actually non existent whenever you first meet, it’s something that you will have to learn to do when you meet, usually can talk about them to other people first before you actually talk to them.

Union in 4th house: can meet spouse in their home country especially if in the sign of Sagittarius or Pisces. Starting off strong, this meeting between you and your spouse can be somewhat planned or predicted in some ways. Like there may be some very noticeable or predictable approaches that were made whenever you met, like for example, when we you meet them you may already be thinking of moving in with them and thinking of staring a family together that sort of thing. There can be instant attraction and you may already view your soon to be spouse as husband material. With this placement I have also noticed that there is always an age gap, like all the husbands of the charts that have Union in 4H are older than them. Your meeting can involve some type of structural adjustment, you may be very busy when you meet them or vice versa. You may be working like literally in your job, or they can be doing some job as well- it just depends on aspects- like if it’s in exact opposition to mc( although this may cause some problems with meeting oops).

🌻an example would be -my mothers union is in the 4H- my father was doing some labour work and was busy doing something, but he was also AT HIS OWN HOME( 4th house is literally associated with your home) , she just happened to be cycling past him lol. (The degree was 25° which is associated with Aries- and Aries represents fast, actions, vehicles- bicycles).

Union in 5th house: meeting of you and your spouse can involve eyeing them up or vice versa. So love at first sight can be very common for this placement. Being heavily attracted to your spouse can also be very likely whenever you meet for the first time. Once again, this can suggest meeting them at a social event, a bit like the 7th house but this can be more surrounded by young people, or children even. So you may meet wherever there is a fun activity some likely energy going on, anything to do with kids/ children can also be linked with the surroundings whenever you two meet.

🌻for example, I know someone who had their union in 5th house and they met at a place where school kids would go afterschool or you would likely see them there.

Union in 6th house: may meet your future spouse whenever doing daily things/ not thinking about anything just focusing on your day. There may be some unfortunate things that happen in the background such as fights or argument/ hearing bad news/ feeling off that day ( all depend on aspects and sign as well). There could be a moment where you change something you usually would do every day and that’s when you can meet your spouse. Like instead of going to one grocery shop that you would always do every week you may decide to go to a different one to switch it up and may actually meet your future spouse ( more likely if you have Taurus union). Or another example could be whenever you change where you would go to the gym, maybe you decide to go to an outdoor one that day etc etc.

Union in 7th house: you can meet your future spouse when there is a lot of people. He can be part of your social group or extended social group, since this house is all about connections it’s like your friends can be friends with him and you finally meet each other from them. There is also a possibility meeting them at a social media app where people go to socialise and chat. So you may encounter them when you are chatting with friends in an app and they get added to the group chat that sort of thing. Usually what I’ve noticed with this placement usually you’ll meet your spouse after getting out of a relationship also.

Union in 8th house: meeting your spouse can be confusing. You may meet them very randomly or you may meet them but it would be very discreet moment for you as there may not be significant pointers that would indicate you that he is your future spouse. It may take a long time for you to actually open up to each other, may encounter them again, and again and again and… again, until you may think to yourself that you see them way to frequently. This meeting may also suggest that either you can be very attracted to them or not at all, yup you may actually not find them attractive at all whenever you meet them, but what may get you is their soul, their personality and the occurrences that happen by accident??

Union in 9th house: the meeting of your and your future spouse may happen at a time of when you are learning a new experience or experiencing something new that you haven’t before. This can literally mean you learning so a university or an education facility can be somewhere you meet them. But overall this placement can involve some travel or in a foreign environment, a place where you haven’t been before or been longing to explore or visit. Whenever you meet your spouse you can be new at something depending on the sign can tell you how so for example if in Aries may be learning to drive or may be a busier than usual day for you that day.

Union in 10th house: this placement is very professional and distant. This placement can indicate meeting your spouse in a professional matter so this can indicate while he is working or when you are. Usually with the meeting there can be some regulations involved such as effort that needs to be put in order to meet each other. This can simply mean that on the day of meeting there could be extra effort that may happen so for example if in the sign of taurus there could be some additional effort made with your appearance, like you may be more presentable that usual or may wear makeup for the first time because you may not wear it often something like that.

Union in 11th house: first meeting with your spouse can be through friends or online. It is definitely involving some social and interactive progress, I have observed some charts that have had this placement and they met online first THENN met up with them with a friend of their( catch this, she had her union asteroid in Scorpio in 11H and the friend she took with her to meet her spouse was a water sign sun!!!!) anyway, the meeting may be very public, and I mean this meeting can literally be in the middle of whole crowds of people, it will not be private AT ALL. Also this can be a very fun and exciting event for you, you may already know what you are expecting, as you may chatted online beforehand.

Union in 12th house: this placement can emphasise on a fated or unexpected union. What I’ve observed with this placement is that the people with this placement met foreign partners or their partner is from a different country or culture. But both met at a different country where both where born in. However, the meeting of you both may not be known by others very well. It’s not like it is intentionally kept discreet but it just may happen that you won’t be telling anyone about the meeting or how you’ve met them to others if that makes sense.

[karvroom]

NIGHT PATROL

hawks x pro hero!reader

⟢ summary: It had been months since anyone had seen you, excluding news outlets and countless civilians you saved. Each passing day, worry grew amongst your small group of Hero friends, especially Hawks. It wasn’t until a fateful night of patrol that he had some closure regarding your absence.

═════════════

Sitting atop of a roof of a tall apartment building, you found it peaceful. You left the noise below, finding solace in the cool night air. Your legs dangled off the edge of the building, swinging to the beat of a song currently stuck on repeat in your head. You propped yourself up by placing your hands behind you and leaning back.

A loud WHOOSH came from the rear of the building.

“This doesn’t look like patrolling to me.” You didn’t have to turn around to know the winged hero, Hawks, was standing directly behind you with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes met the top of your head, inspecting every hair follicle in sight.

“Since when are you my boss?” You spoke, gaze wandering the busy street below. You watched as thousands of people passed. It may have been late, but a handful of individuals indulged in the night life, living it up in Japan as they pleased. You found it fascinating how everyone had their own lives. They each had a home to go back to, kids to tend, dinner to make, pets to feed, etc. You couldn’t fathom how unique everybody’s lives were from one another. It was impossible for you to know everything about anyone, no matter how much you tried. Your eyes settled on a man dressed for a gala, trailing his figure through the crowd. Your raspy voice followed, “I can see from up here.”

Hawks scoffed, easing more into the atmosphere as he took a seat next to you. He finally felt the breeze he’d been missing all day; taking a long breath, he could smell the street vendors’ food. He could’ve gone for some American food right then.

“Did you just come here to flirt?” You asked, not bothering to give him a glance of acknowledgment. He followed your gaze, trying to keep his eyes off your alluring features. You furrowed your brows at the citizens, your lips thinned into a line, the occasional twitch in your nose, he noticed all the small details.

“I’m not flirting.” He admitted, almost pouting at that.

“You know me.” You finally made eye contact, tilting your head to slightly rest on your shoulder. “You know I don’t mess around on patrol. So, what is it that you want?”

“Am I not allowed to check on my coworker that I haven’t seen in nearly two months?” He left you silent.

It’s true, you hadn’t spoken to him or really anyone in quite sometime. You really did disappear from your friends. You abandoned them all to focus on your career as an aspiring hero. It had been your dream since you were little to become a hero—it didn’t have to be number one, but you were hoping at least top ten. Right now, you were eighteen in the charts; it didn’t sit right with you. You knew you had to push yourself, otherwise all that work the Hero Commission poured into you would be for nothing.

“Am I not allowed to have some alone time?” You spat after a minute of deep thought. All he did was stare at you within that time frame. Hawks examined your face, trying to understand your current mindset. Had you gone rogue? Were you depressed? Was it too much for you? He couldn’t tell.

“You can, but, seriously, it’s like you dropped off the face of the Earth.” Hawks wore a concerned look. He moved his hand closer to yours, your pinkies almost touching. “No one has seen you—not unless you’re fighting a villain or just so happen to catch you at the right moment at your agency. It’s concerning (Y/N).”

His facial expression contorted to one of sympathy. Hawks’ fingers twitched before gently placing his hand atop of yours. You let out a small sigh, trying not to look the hero in the eye. You removed your hand from the cement, running your hand through your hair in distress. He noticed your odd lack of your usual touchiness.

“They’ve just been scheduling me for nightly patrols more, y’know?” Your eyes scanned the sky, watching birds take flight through the grey distant clouds. “It’s nothing serious.”

The redness in your eyes told a different story. You hadn’t been getting much sleep. Hawks could see a difference in your gaze. Your eyes used to hold so much light, covered with a glossy finish. It used to look like you were always about to cry, even though you were the most emotionally constipated person Hawks had probably ever met.

Hawks admired your ability to control your emotions, setting them aside in the most difficult situations. But now, he was getting antsy and frustrated with your responses.

“I know you’re lying.” He admitted, drafting out a heavy breath. You froze, your heart rate picking up ever so slightly. Hawks could tell, he could see the guilt ridden all over your face. “You’ve been requesting nights only. Your front desk lady told me so.”

Dammit Denice. You took note that her pay would be getting cut and to have a long talk with her about your wishes. Whatever happened to secrecy in this society? Yeah, Hawks wasn’t just someone of the community, but that included the Number Two hero when you swore her to keep her mouth shut.

“I find it more peaceful at night.”

“That’s when most crimes happen. Doesn’t seem very peaceful to me.” Hawks snorted. The light breeze hit his gold tresses, messing up his hair (making it even more messy than it already was). He scooted closer to you, “C’mon, I miss our patrols. Remember? We’d always schedule to be together.”

Of course you remembered, how could you not? You and Hawks would almost always be seen together. If there was one of you, best believe the other was somewhere close by. You almost smiled at the fond memories that were shattered by your poor decision making. You ruined it for yourself.

You could admit, it was unjust of you to “ghost” everyone. Hell, you were having a mental crisis, straining your health to become a top hero while juggling your social life. But at what cost if the rankings hadn’t budged in weeks? Was it worth it at this point?

Hawks noticed the solemn look on your face, trying to find a way to make you feel better. He didn’t know what to say or how to approach you. Clearly, you didn’t want to be touched or bothered at all, but he wanted to talk to you. Hawks needed to. It was hard not seeing you for months, but now it was even more difficult. You were standing right in front of him and he could tell there wasn’t anything for him to do.

“Things change, Hawks.” You shrugged, sadness and regret creeping into your tone. Your guts threatened to spill from your mouth. You wanted to say more—something else, but you didn’t know what. You hated being put on the spot.

You swung your legs over the ledge, your feet finally touching solid ground. You repositioned yourself to lean comfortably against the wall that Hawks remained seated on. You crossed your arms, demonstrating the awkwardness you brought to the conversation.

Hawks heart shrunk in size at the sound of his hero name coming from you. Of course, you were on the job. Even then, you guys used to be unprofessional and speak each other’s names like they were forbidden fruits. Now, strictly Hero names? It was foreign to him. So much had changed and he hated it.

Little did Hawks know, he was part of the problem.

As much as you denied it, there was something between you and the winged hero. Something beyond friendship; it was evident to everyone around you. Hawks would always make silly advances at you, offering to take you on dates, to sleepover, try to be around you as much as possible. You secretly adored it, but couldn’t risk a relationship getting in the way of your career path.

The pain and hardship you would endure throughout your time as a Pro Hero had already begun taking a toll on you. You didn’t want to add anymore weight on your shoulders. At least, that’s what your mind was telling you. Your heart spoke differently. You wanted his attention, you wanted to come home to him, to be there for him whenever he needed. It was far more complicated than that when you’re risking your life everyday.

“I miss you.” Hawks blurted. He wanted to keep his cool, laid back demeanor afloat, but it was faltering with the foreseeable outcome of this conversation. It was going nowhere near the direction he had hoped.

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice rose. The blonde was completely shattered. The pang in his chest only growing, threatening to burst from under his skin. Hawks couldn’t pinpoint what he felt in that moment. Anger? Anguish? Heartache? All he knew was that it pained him in a way words couldn’t begin to describe.

You pushed away from the ledge, starting to walk away before he could respond. You had heard enough for one night. You were already hard on yourself, you didn’t need a scolding from someone you deeply cared about.

Hawks got off the ledge, speed walking to catch up to you. He caught your wrist in his hand. You whipped your head around, forcing your gaze to meet his. The shadows of the building covered his features, making him seem like an ominous illusion. His grip tightened only slightly, you tried to wriggled your hand free.

“Do you ever lay off?” You snapped. “Hop off my dick, Hawks.”

Now, this, wasn’t how he remembered you. Maybe he was still caught onto the thin strings tethered back to the “old” you, but he didn’t just feel heartbroken. Hawks felt heated at your words.

“No.”

“”No”? “No” what, Hawks?” The way you spat his name—no, his hero name in a bitter rage. A flame ignited inside of him, he didn’t know what to call it as the heat began to swallow his insides whole. It burned his throat, tickling the tip of his tongue. He watched as you aggressively quirked a brow at him.

In one swift motion, Hawks pulled you closer to him, causing you to stumble over your own feet. He scooped you into his arms, coddling you against his chest.

“W-What’re you doing?”

With no answer coming from his mouth, Hawks’ wings stretched from his back before taking to the sky. You looked over your shoulder to see the ground beneath you distance itself.

“Hawks, let me go.” You looked back at him panicked. He could feel your body trembling from the height you were at. Once you were high enough in the air, he started to fly faster, away from the building. Your breathing quickened, “Put me down!”

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll force it out of you, (Y/N).” Hawks glanced down at you before dipping lower from the sky. The speed you flew out was dangerous. You tried closing your eyes, afraid of the view, but you couldn’t when you heard cars honking from beside you.

Hawks had flown into traffic, maneuvering between the colorful vehicles of the city. It wasn’t everyday you would see the Number Two hero of Japan risking his life for fun, especially with another.

People thought he had lost his mind, and you were beginning to think that too.

Coming to a stop light, Hawks swerved up into the air. The strong wind messing up the front of your hair, swirling the strands into a knotted mess. Your grip tightened around Hawks. You refused to look down at the people below you.

Some civilians were taking photos and videos, hoping to receive clout for the two heroes they captured together.

“What do you want me to say? Just put me down, Keigo!” You demanded, your voice cracking. You pressed yourself as close as possible into Hawks’ chest, the fur of his coat ticking your face.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere.” He stopped midair, the sound of his large wings flapping continuously. It was the only thing keeping you from falling, the only thing keeping you alive at this very moment. You were at about the same height as the hospital building next to you. If you fell, at least that was there. “Don’t think I’ll let you off so easily, (Y/N). It’s not what I want to hear, it’s about you telling the truth.”

“You want the truth?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” You could hear his tone dripping with sarcasm. You didn’t have to look up at him to know he was wearing a smug look on his face.

“Hawks—“ You started.

“And we’re back to square one.” Hawks let out a heavy sigh. You could feel his hands start to loosen on your body and panic shook you. You clung onto him, refusing to let go. A chuckle escaped his lips, “So clingy.”

That comment pissed you off. Clingy? You were being clingy? What you were doing was trying not to die. But if he wanted to fan the flames, you could too.

You let go, rolling out of Hawks’ arms and free falling in the air. The blonde was in shock, mouth agape as he watched your body play against gravity for three seconds. Then it clicked. He dove after you.

One thing was your Quirk was not meant for flying or falling. Hawks knew that very well. And how dare he test you, especially on a day you were feeling very ballsy. Of course, you knew Hawks would never let anything happen to you. However, you were starting to get worried the longer you went without a certain Hero’s touch.

The sounds of pedestrians shouting increasingly grew louder. Horns of cars passing by multiplied between each second. You closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable death to hit you hard as you splatter against the concrete; guts and all. You could imagine the headline of the newspaper already: ‘NO. 18 HERO FALLS TO DEATH—embarrassing for her’.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of a strong pair of arms’ embrace and hot breath on your neck. The heavy breathing of you and Hawks colliding with one another as he looked at you in disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Hawks yelled, not out of anger, but surprise. Before you could respond, he mustered what little strength he had left and flew you both to an all-too-familiar balcony; his balcony.

He gently placed you on the cold floor of his picturesque high rise balcony. His heavy boots hit the ground, sending a sound of discontent throughout the atmosphere. Hawks, distressfully, ran his fingers through his hair, looking in the opposite direction of you.

You spoke, in an unusual calm tone, “We can’t be here. We’re supposed to be on pa—“

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Hawks stalked toward you, slamming his heavy duty boots against the ground. It sent chills down your spine how aggressive he was and how unnerved he looked. He grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to meet his gaze, “(Y/N), you could’ve fucking died.”

The crazed look in Hawks’ eyes made you uneasy yet prideful. You didn’t know you had that effect on him. Then again, he would’ve felt the same for anyone else left in his care. Oh, but how wrong you were about that.

“But I didn’t,” Your brows narrowed as you spoke in a stern tone. Hawks maneuvered hush body to be at complete eye level with you, making the scene feel even more intense. Whiplash was playing in your chest cavity, the tempo increasing with every passing second. You swallowed, “and I know you wouldn’t have let it happen.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” This was a simple slap on the wrist compared to what Hawks was thinking. He lowered his head, taking a look at the ground. He inhaled, smelling the soil that rot in his makeshift garden. Hawks lifted his gaze, finding you watching his vulnerable state.

“Don’t you do that again. You know how much I hate flying.” You lightly pushed away from him, taking a step back until your back almost hit the glass entrance to his apartment.

Hawks followed you, taking a large step forward, leaving about two feet of space between your bodies. You could practically feel the leftover anxiety radiating off of him. Regardless, Hawks maintained his cool guy demeanor as he talked, “Well, I wouldn’t have if you had just answered my question.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.” You pointed, your index finger hitting his chest. His rock hard chest. You never really took the time until now to admire his physique. Yeah, it was almost like every other hero’s, but it was the way he presented himself. He hid beneath his large coat, only revealing the compression shirt that hugged his upper half so fittingly. You were a little shocked the first time it was revealed to you.

“You’d give one if your really cared.”

“If I really cared?” With raised brows, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Really? You’re gonna pull that crap on me?”

Hawks mimicked your movements, the sound of his coat shuffling filled your ears. If the warm jacket hadn’t been covering him, you could only imagine the flex of his biceps with the simple gesture.

“You got in my way.” You finally caved, earning a confused look from the winged hero. “You-You have always been in my way. Ever since we graduated from the stupid Hero Commission together.”

You stuttered, not because you were nervous, but the frustration building up from trying to understand the big feelings that were being unveiled.

“(Y/N), what do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean, Keigo?” More emotion crept into your small outburst, begging to be unleashed. You avoided eye contact with him, looking anywhere but his soft, pink lips. “Something about you. You’re stuck in my head. I-It’s like I can’t get you out.”

“I—“ Hawks started, you placed a finger over his mouth to cut him off.

“I’m not done.” You retracted your finger slowly, ensuring he would let you go on with your rant. You were finally starting to come to terms with what was brewing inside you and you didn’t want him to ruin it; even if you were making somewhat of a fool of yourself. “You annoy me, even when you aren’t around. And you make me feel…balked? I can’t understand why I feel this way and it eats at me. Anytime I’m alone, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Addicted. That was the word you were looking for. You felt addicted to him. Not by the way he made you feel, but him in general. The way his smile would instantly brighten a gloomy afternoon or how he actually cared. The way he cared for you was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You didn’t like it. You didn’t understand what was goin on in your mind or heart, it was a jumbled mess of intricate affections waiting to be fished out by you.

“I don’t understand.” Your hands flew at your head, dramatically grabbing your hair as you sighed in frustration. “Something about you.”

Hawks couldn’t bare to listen to any more of your babbling. He already knew what you were trying to say, but could tell you were having a (painfully) hard time to piece together the puzzle of sentiments.

The blonde took one step and it was over. It was as if his body moved on its own. Hawks closed the gap between you two, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek and the other making way to your waist as he indulged in your kiss of life. The flavor of sweet summer’s finest peach coated his lips, making him want more. Your lips molded perfectly together.

You allowed it to happen, you hadn’t realized that this is what you wanted. This is what you needed all along to figure out what was “wrong” with you. You lifted your arms, placing them gently around his neck, running your fingers through his hair in the back. All of your worries fluttered away, however, you could feel something new. Butterflies flapping their little wings as they made way around your stomach, tickling your insides.

Finally (sadly), you both pulled away. Bewilderment filled both your eyes. It was clear Hawks was just as surprised as you were. His mouth was slightly agape while his hands lingered your body. Hawks’ calloused fingers ran along your arm, making way to your finger tips.

He tried to hide his look of sultry with one of charm, “Does that solve your dilemma?”

═════════════

A/N: it’s so rushed, i’m sorry. i just HAD to post this right now. it’s been sitting in my drafts for a good week or so.

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

Christmas Day with You

Captain Curly

You and him baking sugar cookies in matching aprons? Peak domestic fluff His apron said "Sugar Daddy," and yours? "Daddy’s Sugary Snacc"

Yeah, that was all his idea. He couldn’t stop showing them off, grinning ear to ear, parading them around Walmart like it was a fashion show.

Meanwhile, you were just trying to hunt down all the ingredients in peace, but nope, he had to follow you around, flaunting those aprons.

After a war of flours, you successfully conjured up a decent batch

You had to use actual physical restraint to stop him from adding Vegemite to the cookies. The audacity. And when he ate one, took a full spoonful of it, and moaned?? Yeah, a monster

He’s obsessed with ski or any snow sport video game and always teases you for being a noob. But it’s all in good fun—he’s learned his lesson after the Mario Kart Incident that shall never be mentioned again

"Sweetheart, you’re gonna twist your joint with that posture—"

"Hush! You just wanna win gold again. Stop tempting me, you tall, handsome, bulky-ass demon"

Naturally, your competitive streak kicked in and, somehow, you ended up twisting your ankle

He played the role of nurse, cold compress in hand, sneaking kisses to your ankle because “it speeds up healing” (and also because he’s a shameless flirt who’ll use any excuse to be touchy)

You both gave up on the active stuff and just settled in for a holiday romcom. Of course, you both passed out halfway through

Nurse Anya

You made sure the fireplace was stacked to the brim with firewood because Anya + cozy fire = Christmas must

Your tradition? Her reading a book with her legs propped up on your thighs while you either watch your favorite YouTube videos or game

She’d be all serious about the book, but every now and then, she’d peek over at your screen, giggling at your reactions, but pretending like she was still super into the book

"What did he even trip on? Hell no, he deserved more than just getting skinned alive"

“Y/N, sweetie, natural selection. The weak always get eliminated”

"Mmm, makes sense"

When the clock hit a certain hour, it was handwritten letter time. Instead of gifts, you both wrote love letters to each other. This started when she told you how she re-read your first love letter whenever she got stuck on months long of hauls as a crew nurse

"Yeah, sorry, Anya. No letter this year"

"What? Bu—"

"Because you’re not getting back on that claustrophobic flying submarine this time"

Knowing how much she wanted to enter med school, you gave her the ultimate gift: fully paid tuition for a six-month medicine review center. You’d worked all year for it, and seeing her reaction made every second of it worth it

It was the first time you saw her cry. Anya, who’s always calm and composed, was sobbing in your arms, and it just wrecked you with love. You hugged her tighter, not sure who was more emotional at that point

"Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"

Intern Daisuke

He planned the perfect Christmas adventure, complete with bullet points, timestamps, and color-coded charts. You had to give him credit for actually being organized for once—he really took his Christmas plans seriously

But, of course, the Christmas spirit was clearly not on his side this time. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong:

Alarm didn’t go off

There was a traffic jam due to a fender bender

Your favorite thrift store? Closed for maintenance

Even the skating rink shut down after some bizarre oil spill caused a dogpile (like, how does that even happen?)

By the end of the day, you weren’t mad at all, just hungry. And somehow, Daisuke turned every misfortune into something you both would be giggling about

You both bought GIGANTIC mugs at Walmart that read, “The Grinch pales at my naughtiness.” They were immediately used to create the world’s sickest hot chocolate, piled with as equally large marshmallows and a diabetes-inducing amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Daisuke was relentless in roasting the Grinch—he couldn’t stop hating on that movie.

“Who even hates Christmas? It’s the grand finale of the year! Absolute loser behavior.”

Mechanic Swansea

Christmas in the garage, for short, his sanctuary. The man thought of everything: fully insulated it, brought in a heater, all just to make sure you were warm and comfy while you both worked

Both of you had this wordless agreement to work on woodcrafts for Christmas. He taught you the basics of woodworking and you proved yourself to be a modern abstract Picasso. You improved throughout the years, tho. Your pieces? From abstract Picasso to expressionism Picasso

He loves carving because it gives him the perfect excuse to sit right behind you, guiding your hands with his. His big teddy bear frame is all around you, and something about that just hits him deeply. Like when he knows you’re safe and protected in his arms. And your eagerness to learn and follow his moves. He melts.

Naturally, you got a splinter, triggering his fierce Tsundere side

“What did I tell you about not rubbing fresh-cut wood? Keep this up, and I’ll just have you sit on my lap while I do your work for you.”

But underneath all that scolding, you could see his silent panic. He just hides behind transparent glass

"Stop smiling at me like that, you clumsy goof"

After crafting a spoon with a thirty-degree angled handle and an awkward head (he still called it perfect, of course), he whipped up his signature paella

Somehow, despite having eaten a thousand spoonfuls of it over the years, you still weren’t tired of it

Co-pilot Jimmy

Jimmy’s not really one for celebrating Christmas. Not bitter about it or anything, but he just treated it like any normal day. That all changed, though, when he realized that Christmas was your thing.

“Babe, why Christmas?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. But you know how, when we were kids, there’s that feeling of excitement, like when Christmas is coming and you can’t stop smiling? It just brings all that back, and suddenly, you feel like a kid again. So I guess, it’s just nostalgia, huh?”

He never really thought about it that way before. After all, his goal as a kid was always to grow up faster than everyone else.

So, you took it upon yourself to share all your favorite Christmas traditions with him, hoping to bring a little of that magic into his world:

Decorating your tree? He suggested replacing the star with an angel figurine... with your printed face glued on it. (Naturally, he followed through after you both went to bed, sneaking up to do it.)

Making a gingerbread house? He blocked the chimney, and when you asked why… well, he said it best:

“I don’t want some fat bastard breaking in, he’d eat the entire damn house”

By Christmas Eve, looking around his once-bare apartment, now filled with colors he didn’t even know existed, he couldn’t stop that tugging in his heart. He didn’t even realize how much of his childhood was missing until now.

You were patching up his unhealed wounds with your bandaids, and he didn’t even notice until it was too late. He's down bad

a/n: I know it's late T.T, but here's the crew having some holiday break... future angst coming up with curly and you (sorry)

also p.s. english ain't my first language, so i kinda felt like my whole headcanon writing abilities were crap... but these somehow are the top liked posts soooo... future HCs comin' down your way