#to to get offended 😬

[damndeaniel]

ok.. how do ppl get asks and discord usernames and friends… 🤔

[merkerlerspeaks]

btw I ask for prayers for when I speak in my class that since I am in a class that is religiously diverse and have zero desire to with hold my beliefs, that 1.) I don't say something in a way that horribly offends someone (I prefer to be gentle when in religious discussion) 2.) That when I do speak about the topic that the 'baby christian' boy in my class is able to understand me & that if I ever try to help him learn that I don't come across as if I am dismissing him (I am worried that I made him feel stupid or ganged-up on yesterday and hope that I did not) and that 3.) I don't slip up and say something horribly offensive to my preacher/veteran teacher because while I am a Christian I am not conservative and have opinions about the army that he doesn't need to hear right now after being freshly retired after serving for over 2 decades.

[gothcarmelasoprano]

maw why are these troll accounts linked through my ex best friends STILL following me

[birdstooth]

I only write on the finest… “parchment” using the blood of my vanquished enemies

spread this around please!!

[cl6teen]

affection, ln4 ❀ chapter i. clueless

masterlist || chapter ii

in which everyone can’t believe that a certain mclaren driver and f1’s resident rich girl aren’t dating already

contains: smau, oblivious lando & oblivious reader

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 223,211 others

yourinstagram a much needed vacay

view all comments

landonorris im still offended by the lack of an invite

yourinstagram thailand is for the girls, not sorry!

bsfsinstagram there was a strict no lando norris rule for yn

user i have gyat to go to thailand

liked by yourinstagram

carlossainz55 the book is upside down dummy

yourinstagram i’ll turn you upside down

oscarpiastri what an informative post yn

yourinstagram hehe, can’t wait to see you

user omg yn at the next race???

user literally what are all these f1 boys doing in her comments

user shes a nepo baby i think

user her dad is mclaren’s biggest sponsor so she’s able to attend a lot of f1 events

user my fav honorary f1 wag

yourinstagram wag?? i’m very much single thank you

daniel ricciardo 🌚

yourinstagram don’t give them things to read into daniel.

lanny

i miss you

hey yn

miss youuu

when are you coming back

thailand can’t be that fun

y/n/n

thailand is totally that fun

in fact we’re about to go on a boat

lanny

you can go on a boat over here

y/n/n

it’s not the same 🙄

i don’t know why you’re so hung up about me taking a vacation

monaco gets boring sometimes

lanny

yeah but the second i get back from racing around the world you’re already gone

y/n/n

well i’ll be in the uk just in time for silverstone

lanny

you’re going back home?

y/n/n

my father said it’d be good to be around for a home race

so i’ll be in the uk for some time probably, it’s been a while since i’ve been back

lanny

okay good

i better see you cheering for me

it’d be embarrassing if my best friend was rooting for someone else

y/n/n

i’ve got my mclaren 4 cap ready to go

cant wait to see you ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 533,444 others

lando.jpg home dump

view all comments

yourinstagram and it’s all just a bit too much…for littol lando norris

lando.jpg im hiding in your walls

yourinstagram creep

maxfewtrell stream time? 🤔

lando.jpg let me race first bro

user not lando feeding yn pasta and lobsterrrr

carlossainz55 aye, was this a date??

yourinstagram he wishes, he got me from the airport & we went straight to eat

danielricciardo who’s that cutie?

yourinstagram i’m right here!

danielricciardo oh..i meant lando

oscarpiastri 😬

user im so confused, are they dating??

user no, but they’ve been like best friends since lando’s rookie year in mclaren

user shes better than me, i would have fallen in love…

liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 745,234 others

yourinstagram couldn’t be prouder of my boys!!

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

view all comments

mclaren loving the love from our papaya girl 🧡

yourinstagram mwah

user yn ate today on the paddock

user she’s wearing lando’s hat im gonna cry

bsfsinstagram ugh get these men off my feed and show me ur pretty face

yourinstagram i was held at gunpoint and told to post this :/

landonorris the 6th photo…

yourinstagram ikr can you believe that loser got p2?

landonorris not too much now

oscarpiastri i look crazy

yourinstagram you look so cute??

oscarpiastri you shoved a camera in my face while i was eating

yourinstagram i did nothing wrong 🥰

user who was the man you were with on the paddock though?

yourinstagram my father!

user girl your daddy fine

liked by bsfsinstagram

bsfsinstagram user you have great taste

maxfewtrell send me that lando photo please

yourinstagram will do 🫡

45 likes

onlyyn i luv a good arfter prty

view all comments

danielricciardo me when i’m on the hennessy

onlyyn hehe

landonorris im looking for you

bsfsinstagram please don’t do anything crazy babe 😭

onlyyn i’ll try

lanny

y/n

where are you?

i thought you were with oscar

y/n/n

i let oscar leave! he looked tired

lanny

you should’ve told me that then

i would’ve kept an eye on you

are you drunk

y/n/n

i’m not a child oscar

lanny

*lando, but i’ll ignore that

and i’m not saying you are yn

there’s just people here that can be like

weird is all, who knows

are you drunk??

y/n/n

i don’t know, i’m not sober

are you drunk

lanny

i’m not sober

y/n/n

i thought you hated alcohol?

lanny

carlos convinced me to do some shots with him and max…

i regret it a little

do you wanna go home

y/n/n

yea

my feet hurt

lanny

i’ll carry you until we get to an uber

so can you tell me where you are now??

y/n/n

i’m in the bathroom

lanny

don’t move, i’ll come get you

y/n/n

god you’re the best ever lando

lanny

yeah i know 😁

[larcenywrites]

All About Fur!

Nightcrawler HCs

I have lots of thoughts about lots of things, and Nightcrawler’s fur is one of them! So I had to get a few things out of my brain 💙 Some x reader stuff in here too ;)

Warnings: a few sexual references | a few fluffy (no pun intended) references | no pronouns or specifications on reader obvi

⚜️Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any fluffier, much to your dismay 😔 a fluffy winter coat would have been cute, after all!

⚜️But even that short fur does get thicker and longer in certain places on the daily 😏 you may notice his jawline is a bit shaggy by the end of a lazy weekend 🤭 that there’s more fur on his chest when you run your fingers through it 🥺 his belly and a line above and below is belly button gets fluffy and curly if he lets it 🥺🥺

⚜️Even if you’ve typically preferred your past partners more… clean-shaven or well-trimmed down there, you surely can’t have any issues with his fluffier crotch and thighs 🥰 the saving grace here is that all of his fur is velvety soft 😌

⚜️Now, while it doesn’t grow any longer outside of those places, he is naturally shaggier in some other areas!

⚜️His forearms are a bit more furry than his upper arms

⚜️The backs of his thighs and his little booty have longer, curled fur 🥰🥰🥰

⚜️Rub a balloon on him and watch it stick :)

⚜️Bathing with him is fun because you get to play with his fur! Run your fingers through it! This is a feature, not a bug!!

⚜️Except now he’s more like a soggy kitten 🥺 a happy one at least!

⚜️The tail is surprisingly not just, like, skin! It is fuzzy! The fur there is very very short and fine, but still soft and fuzzy! It kinda feels like one of those lamb’s ear plants! Or peach fuzz!!

⚜️But the tip isn’t covered in fur 😔 just like the bottoms of his hands and feet!

⚜️He says belly rubs are degrading, but he likes them 😘 especially when that fur on his chest and belly hasn’t been trimmed in a while, he’ll absolutely stretch out and let you run your fingers through it during late morning cuddles 🥰

⚜️Don’t be afraid to pay extra attention to his quasi-beard, too 😉 it’s not the same as pubic hair on a human! It’s just as soft as the rest of him!

⚜️And for better or for worse, you won’t have to worry very much about beard burn, at least!

⚜️He really doesn’t mind being petted anywhere and everywhere— so long as you do, in fact, have a close and/or (preferably) more intimate relationship!

⚜️Though, if all your past partners have been more on the human-presenting side, you’ll have to get used to always getting a mouthful of fur whenever you want to kiss his cheek or affectionately bite his arm 😅

⚜️This also makes it a little more difficult to do body shots tbh 😔 not to mention trying to get any sticky wine out of that fur later 🤧

⚜️Among other sticky things 🤭

⚜️And when you’re trying to be sexy and trying to lick him down from neck to abs 😔

⚜️But!! At least he’s all soft and cuddly :)

⚜️You’ll probably literally be rubbing your cheek against his like some kind of cartoon couple! You can’t help it that he’s so snuggly 🥰

⚜️But it’s gonna get very warm under the covers— and not just because he’s getting frisky 🥲 sorry if you get hot easily!

⚜️Also sorry if you're ticklish 🥺 he’s probably trying to be very sexy and romantic by kissing down your stomach all slow and teasingly 😏 but those fuzzy cheeks are probably going to have you giggling and squirming away from him instead 😅 it’s okay, he’ll work with it 😘

⚜️His tail is also a major offender of this! Sometimes, he does it on purpose, but other times, he’s genuinely trying to be sexy when he wraps his tail around your thigh or waist, but it’s so fuzzy! It tickles!

⚜️And that’s okay, too :) he does love making you laugh 🥰

⚜️But there’s another disadvantage… sweat and fur don’t mix— there’s a reason dogs and cats don’t sweat!

⚜️Bandaids and fur also don’t mix 😬 but hey, it’s a lot more intimate wrapping medical tape around his arm or whatever 😏

⚜️And no! He won’t get fleas 😤

[platonic-writer]

CHAOTIC MALE CHILD READER & PLATONIC DOTTORE

You saw dottore who was taking a walk in Sumeru

dottores walk with his hands behind him 😭🙏

You saw his walk and instanly decided hes rich and start following him

What did you do in Sumeru? Yea you're an orphan 😬. Little shit was on the run because he stole food from a stall.

LMAO you followed him until he was at his Laboratory.

Dottore glanced at you for a second and did a double take because why is there a child and how did that child follow him ?

You're face when dottore asked who you are: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The following days you followed dottore and because of that you got the nickname Rat from dottore 💀

"Yeah thats Rat btw. He follows me around. Dont ask why"

You didnt talk to him until some months later

"Oi Rat give me that book"

"SURE BLUE RAT (o^▽^o)"

"(⊙_⊙)"

Yea you thought he was called rat because Dottore always calls you that. So you came to the conclussion that Dottore was called Blue rat because of his blue hair

You once broke something expensive on Dottores table and you just straight up pointed at one of Dottores clones and said "It was him, i saw it with my own eyes"

Poor clone couldnt say that it wasnt him because you blackmailed him 💀

The clone died

Dottore straight up shows his favoritsm, one time you blew up his laboratory and Dottore just shrugged and blaimed the clones for not looking after you

One time he took you to the Fatui meeting, lets say you took one look at childe and called him a stick😭

Childe looked so offended

When the meeting was over you kicked Childe

BRO FELL DOWN SO HARD

Dottore just laughed and told you to do it everytime you see Childe

You know the video where this one child fell down the floor and just looked at the camera angry? Yea thats you

The day you learned of tazers was the day the fatui learned fear

Every damn day people would get tazerd from you. They thought they would be free if they take them away? Nah, you made you're own.

They hurt more

The fatui began wearing protection and you got the name "demon child of Dottore"😭🙏

Dottore was so proud, he allowed you to experiment on a person

Dottore loves you a lot even if he doesent say it

His love comes in the form of giving reader weapons and telling you to make him proud

You once got hurt when you were alone and Dottore came SPRINTING to you

Broski tought you were dying because of a Bruise

The day you got hurt was the last day you were alone

You're now always followed by a clone

The clone was programmed to carry anything that you may want

Toys, food, drinks, weapons, dynamite, bandages, and a book called "looking good for dumbasses"

Yes, you throw that book at childe and yes you also throw dynamite at childe

Dottore couldnt be more prouder

He now calls you his child infront of everyone

You don't mind, you call him Rat Dad

Summary: You may be chaotic but dottore will always love you. Even if you blows shit up.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I hope you liked my first Headcanon! Give me Requests if you want and do tell me if there's something i can improve ♡

[moonchild033]

Random astro community related thoughts going on my mind 😏😑

I would request u all to read it thoroughly but yea whatever😏

Idk how many ppl are going to get offended or have controversial views to this but since it's MY BLOG, I'm gonna write things that are constantly disturbing my mind.🙂

First of all, I'm feeling truly devastated by seeing the number of astro posts circulating around Liam Payne's d*ath. Why r u hellbent on dissecting someone's d*ath? Idk what tropical astrology teaches, so I can't say anything about that, but as far as ik, traditional vedic astrologers are trained NOT to predict someone's demise or dissect a de*d person's chart, so kindly refrain from using vedic astrology and its tools such as divisional charts to do this, I find it very disrespectful. Vedic astrology can just be a science or interesting content for u, but for other ppl it's a part of their heritage and it has its respect, so don't misuse it. Also I kind of think it's literally humane to not make content out of someone's demise, be a human first then u can be a celebrity.😒

Be responsible about what u say, u might not know how much impact your words have but there are ppl who are following and reading your posts. I feel like some knowledge should've stayed in the same place, protected and safe in the right hands rather than accessible to everyone, Kali yug is definitely not the era where ppl r sensible enough to understand how to wield knowledge bcoz it is literally a POWER. 😌

The way the world of Nadi astrology is destroyed by the same means, knowledge going in the wrong hands, now it has become a whole scam, spinning tales and extorting money. Nadi is where sages like Agasthiya wrote future horoscopes and its predictions along with their past lives. Our lives have been written in palm leaves years ago, the main sanctuary of the collection is in Tamilnadu, it was passed on from generation to generation in certain family lineages, then some of them sold it, made fake ones and it got sparsely distributed and now almost vanished (Ik in specific temple some of the originals are stored even today, I'll not mention the name, I'm tired of misuse of knowledge, if u r genuinely interested Google is free). Even our accurate d*ath incident is written in there but the real nadi families back then were trained not to reveal it, so they just say 'Stay healthy and careful in that time, be cautious while driving' that's it. I know of real life incidents predicted through that, my dad's friend and my bestfriend 's mother both d*ed on the same predicted year and month by the same warned incident, my dad's friend was asked to be cautious of vehicles in that time period and he d*ed due to an accident and my friend's mom was asked to take care of health issues on a specific time period and she d*ied due to cancer. It's ur choice to believe in an age old writing of ur destiny in a palm leaf but it was an accurate tool some 20-30yrs back but today when it went into the wrong hands, that is when the knowledge got spread rather than being protected and reached ppl with wrong intentions, it all went berserk, now they just bluff nonsense. Still there are authentic family lineages with real texts and skills but it's very hard to differentiate between a whole lot of fraudsters. 🙃

So yea, overall I'm pissed off about the fact that some things are better to have left the way it is rather than showcasing it to the whole world to have it misused, like vedic astrology too, if u r learning it, respect it's ethics too, don't disrespect it's norms for the sake of ur content.😌😬

Idc if u disagree with me, this is MY opinion and I'll stand by it, BYEEE 😤😌

(But I'm angry too 😒)

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - One

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

This is my first original fic after The Pilot and his Girl and it will be a very different read (just in case you're totally traumatised by The Pilot...😬)

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery. The plan is to post one chapter every Sunday night so hold me to that schedule when my procrastination kicks in!

Warnings won't be very serious, just lots of fluff, lots of food, some mention of drugs because you know some of these Pedro boys are just like that.

Series Master List

@harriedandharassed tagging you in this because you said you wanted to read anything new ❤❤❤

The drawback of being a baker is that your working day starts when others are still tucked in bed with hours left to sleep. Or just coming home from a party. But you don’t mind all that much, there’s a certain tranquil peace to being awake and working in the bakery while the rest of the world sleeps. 

In the warmer months you prop open the back door so that you can hear the birds starting to sing as the sky slowly grows lighter outside, today is just one of those mornings. 

The early morning radio show is on low in the background as you prepare the day. Yesterday's loaves have proofed overnight in the cold storage and are ready for the oven, the pie doughs taken out and softening while you prepare the cookie doughs. 

People don’t often knock on the bakery's back door before you open for the day, but it happens, so when you suddenly hear someone shuffle and knock, you’re not surprised. Wiping your hands on your apron you turn the corner into the small back room. A man is leaning on the door frame, but not the sexy, romance novel leaning. No, this man is leaning in a ‘lean-or-fall-over’ kinda way. His eyes are covered by large black sunglasses that he pulls down as you spot him, a tired but cheeky smirk on his face. 

“Hey, baker girl,” he grins, his voice gravelly like he’s chain smoked all night, “got any sna- oh whoops!” he giggles madly as he loses his balance and tumbles sideways, catching the other door frame before he grabs onto your arms and almost manages to stand up straight. 

“You might need coffee, not snacks,” you say, holding onto him to stop him from falling face forward into your apron.  

“I’m fine,” he grins, pushing himself upright again but still holding on to the door frame, “I just came from this party, were you there?,” he asks, giving you another over the glasses look, this time clearly checking you out as his eyes drag up and down your form, lingering on your pink crocs. 

“Actually, I would’ve remembered if you were there, love the crocs,” he chuckles. 

“What’s wrong with my crocs?” you ask, slightly offended, “They’re great for people like me, you know, people who actually work on Thursdays.” 

“No, no, I mean it, I love your crocs!” the man says, wide eyed and shoving his glasses up in his wild curls, “I have like ten crocs, one pair is pink too.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, giving you a confused look, “Wait, it’s Thursday?” 

“Yeah, five am, Thursday morning,” you say, wondering how to get rid of this disheveled man so that you can get back to the cookie dough. 

“Fuck, oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck….” the man groans, bending double and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m so fucked…I thought it was Wednesday.” 

He stands up again and you can’t help but feel sorry for him, he looks devastated. 

“I was meant to fly out to San Antonio yesterday and take my nice to Six Flags for her birthday, and I fucking missed it!” 

He slumps against the door frame and thumps the back of his head against it repeatedly, moaning, “I’m such a fuck up, I’m such a fuck up.” 

“Hey, take it easy, I’m sure it’ll be fine, just apologize and take her another day,” you say, putting your hand on the man’s arm to stop him from giving himself a concussion in your bakery, “I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

“You think?” he says, “I’m not the best at remembering birthdays, I may have missed a few in the past.” 

“Well, then she’ll be mad at you, but all you can do is apologize right? And try to make it up to her as best you can.” 

“Yeah…yeah…maybe you’re right, thanks baker girl.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you notice the smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes, “How about those snacks? I’m fucking starving.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the man’s a mess but somehow adorable at the same time with his wild hair and stained t-shirt. 

“Sure, I’ll get you something, what do you like?”

“Do you have sausage rolls?” he asks, following you into the kitchen, “I fucking love sausage rolls.”

“What, like those things they made on the Great British Bake Off?” you reply, opening your walk in fridge to survey the snack options. 

“Yeah, I did this movie once, in England, and there was a bakery next to my apartment and whenever I got back from a party, early morning, I’d knock on their back door and they’d sell me these fat sausage rolls, fresh from the oven, fucking amazing.” 

“Sorry, no sausage rolls in this bakery,” you say, “but my cookies will be done soon, if you can wait.” 

You turn back to the man and realize he’s wandering around the kitchen, sticking his nose in your bowls, sniffing loudly. 

“Hey, don’t stick your finger in that,” you say, “Health and Safety are going to have my license if they catch you.”

“Sorry, I’ve just got the munchies, I’ve been high for like, two days,” he says, waving his arms around, “this place is torture for a high pers-OH! Do you know what I love?”

“No,” you sigh, exasperated, “I don’t know what you love.”  

He completely misses your tone as he spins in a circle around the kitchen and you realize that he’s wearing what looks like very expensive pajama pants and no shoes, just socks.

“I love those…what do you call them, like…millionaire’s something?” 

“Millionaire's shortbread?” you ask and he spins around to you with a big grin. 

“Yes! Those! With like the chocolate and the peanut butter and they’re like the best Reese’s ever, only even more fucking amazing. Can you make those?”  “I don’t know, maybe,” you begin and the man actually falls to his knees, shuffling over the floor to you. 

“Please, I’ll do anything, I’m dying here, beautiful baker girl, make me happy!”

“Are you asking me to bake for you or proposing?” you laugh, this man is too ridiculous as he grins up at you. 

“If you make them for me, I won’t marry you, but there are many other things I can do,” he says, pulling down his dark sunglasses from his head and winking at you from over the edge, his cheeky grin making it impossible to scowl at him. 

“Fine, I’ll make them for you, just get up from my floor, please,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes yours with a bright smile, kissing the back of it, before he stumbles to his feet and follows you over to your big workbench.

“I’m Dieter, by the way. Can I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the stool that stands next to the bench. 

“Nice to meet you Dieter,” you say, “sure, go ahead, it’s got wheels on it though so be careful.” 

“Awesome,” Dieter says and sits down, immediately speeding across the floor with a kick of his socked feet. He stops himself from crashing into the fridge door by grabbing on to the handle before he shoots off again, rolling all the way over to the open back door. 

“Don’t fall out through the door please,” you call after him and you hear him giggle, a second later he comes spinning into the kitchen again. 

“This thing is awesome, I need to buy one for my house.” 

“Happy you’re enjoying yourself,” you laugh and walk to where yesterday’s bakes are stacked on trays. You’d made a layer of shortbread yesterday, you were planning on making lemon bars but Millionaire’s shortbread will work too. As you bring it over to your work station Dieter rolls past you and stops by the bench.  “Can I help?” he asks, looking up at you, his sunglasses back in his messy hair. He’s kinda cute when you think about it, gorgeous brown eyes, and the smile he’s giving you is open and curious with an adorable dimple. 

“Yeah, sure, you can be in charge of peanuts,” you say, walking over to the dry storage, “They need to be bashed into chunks with a rolling pin, something tells me that’s something you can probably handle.” 

“That sounds fun, please, direct me,” he says, kicking himself over to the storage cupboard on the stool. 

“Oops, sorry,” he giggles, grabbing hold of your hips to stop himself from crashing into the storage door, “I kicked too hard that time.” 

“Go easy there, Dieter,” you laugh as he untangles himself from the stool and stands up. You get on your tiptoes to grab the peanuts and suddenly realize he’s still holding on to your hips, standing close behind you. You swear you feel his nose brush the side of your head, a quick inhale from him, and then he steps back, letting go. 

“Peanuts?” he says, leaning past you and reaching up to grab the bag sitting just out of your reach. His arm brushes over yours and he’s suddenly very close again, his citrusy after shave, mingling with the heady sweet smoke of weed, fills your senses. 

“Uhh…y-yeah,” you stutter, “thanks. And the dark chocolate if you can reach it.” 

“Sure, this one?” he asks, grabbing the bag of Valrhona from the shelf. This time his chest is pressed against your back, you really should move out of his way, but he’s right behind you, almost pinning you in place, as he has to stretch to his full length to reach. And you find that you don’t mind at all, he’s warm and solid behind you, and this is more action than you’ve had in months. 

“That’s the one, thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. 

Dieter brings it down to your level and you take it from him, expecting him to step back and give you room to go back to the work bench. But instead he stays right behind you, and this time you really do feel him bend down and brush his nose over your cheek, down to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“You smell delicious, like a cookie,” he mumbles and your heart literally skips a beat. 

“Th-thanks,” you splutter and when Dieter steps back, letting you move, you avoid his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. 

“S-so the…umm…rolling pin is on that shelf there,” you say, pointing down to your right, “and there’s a measuring cup too, just…umm…just get a cup of peanuts, and put them in a plastic bag and bash away. Just wash your hands first.” 

“Ok, I can do that,” he says with a grin and he walks behind you to the sink in the corner while you measure out the peanut butter into a sauce pan. 

Dieter gets to work on the peanuts with great enthusiasm until you tell him they’re broken up enough. 

“Just leave them there, you can come here and stir the peanut butter while I get the caramel ready,” you instruct him and he ambles over in just his socks. 

“What happened to your shoes? If you don’t mind me asking,” you point at his stripey, multicolored socks. 

“I’m not sure,” Dieter glances down at his feet, “I had shoes when I left home, I’m sure of it, but after that it gets a bit hazy.” 

“You’ve really been partying since Tuesday?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, it was a good party so we just kinda kept going,” he grins, “there was a huge pool and we all went in. Actually, maybe that’s where I lost my shoes?” 

“Maybe, you could go back and look for them?” 

“And miss out on baking with a pretty baker girl? Never!” he chuckles and you’re not totally sure he’s being serious or not, but the grin he gives you makes you hope he is. 

“I think this is melted,” he says, draggin the spoon through the silky smooth peanut butter, showing you the bowl. 

“Yeah, that looks done. Just pass me that tray of shortbread and I’ll pour the caramel on top.” 

“Can I lick the bowl?” he asks, looking over your shoulder as you let the thick golden liquid pool on top of the shortbread. 

“I’m pretty good at scraping, there’s usually nothing left to lick,” you say, dragging the spatula around the edge. 

“Can’t you be a bit sloppy, just for me?” Dieter grins, standing entirely too close, “It smells so good, I wanna taste it.” 

This time he’s definitely flirting, the salacious smile on his face while he winks at you, makes you both roll your eyes and squash down butterflies on the inside. 

“Fine, I’ll leave some for you,” you smile, looking back at the shortbread again and scraping out caramel, leaving the last of it on the spatula. Putting the bowl to the side, you hold out the spatula for him. But instead of taking it, he grabs hold of your hand, and licks the caramel off the spatula with a long swipe of his tongue. His eyes don’t leave yours and the whole thing is so over the top you burst out laughing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, tone it down maybe?” you snort, as he abruptly stops licking, letting go of your hand. 

“What?” he blushes, “I saw it in this movie, it looked sexy.” 

“Yeah, in a porno maybe!” you say, handing him the spatula, and only the spatula.

He takes it with a sheepish look, “Sorry, that usually works.” 

“Not in this bakery, I have to work with that spatula when you’re gone, I can’t have it being used as a porno prop, Dieter.” You grab a new spatula from the holder on the counter and start smoothing out the caramel. 

“You do smell good though,” Dieter says, still looking sheepish, “that wasn’t just a line.” 

“Thanks,” you shoot him a quick smile, working over the caramel, “you smell good too, underneath all that weed funk.” 

At this he grabs the front of his t-shirt and sniffs it, wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, it’s kinda obvious, huh.” 

“Can’t believe you partied for forty-eight hours, I’d be dead on my feet,” you say, mixing the peanut butter into the caramel layer, sprinkling in some of the crushed peanuts, “Do you want coffee or something while we wait for this to set?” 

“Fuck yes, coffee sounds amazing!” Dieter exclaims, dropping the spatula from his mouth, “And this stuff is amazing too, I’d eat a bowl of just this.” 

“You’d die of a sugar rush if you did,” you laugh, sliding the tray into the large fridge and setting a timer on your phone, “C’mon, the coffee machine is out front.” 

One of the advantages of being the sole owner of the bakery was that you got to decide what to skimp on, and what to splurge on. And the espresso machine was something you’d really splurged on. For a shop that mainly sold take out baked goods, it was way over the top, but it meant you always had great coffee on hand for your early mornings. The machine was already up and running, humming quietly as you started preparing two shots. 

“How do you take it, Dieter?” you ask and he winks at you.  “Anyway you wanna give it to me, baker girl,” he grins and when you sigh loudly, he laughs and holds up his hands in defense. “C’mon! I had to! You set it up perfectly!” 

“How do you take your coffee?” you emphasis and glare at him, but your smile is breaking through and he gives you a playful poke as he comes up and stands next to the machine. 

“Extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have ‘em.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” you smirk, “A guy who loves Millionaire’s Shortbread, of course he wants extra everything. I bet you’re lining up outside your local Starbucks the morning they start selling Pumpkin Spice.” 

“I would never drink Starbucks!” he protests, “Fucking vile coffee and the worst of corporate America. But you can’t beat a good pumpkin spice if you’ve got quality coffee.” 

“I’ve only got great coffee here, but no syrup, you want a latte? Double shot espresso?” 

“Please,” he says, leaning against the counter next to the espresso machine as he looks over the front of your little shop, crossing his arms. You can’t help the glance up at his arms, the t-shirt hanging on for dear life as it clings to his biceps and broad shoulders. The many rings on his fingers look tiny on his large hands as he grips the outside of his arms, and you’re temporarily distracted by them, and his close proximity. 

The hiss of the machine pulls you back to reality, coffee sputtering out of the spouts into the cup. You glance back up at Dieter and find him watching you with a crooked smile, a dimple in his cheek. 

“What?” you say, looking back at the machine and begin to steam the milk. 

“You really are beautiful,” he says, almost matter of factly, “especially when you zone out.” 

“It’s early, and I’ve been up since two am, but thanks, I guess,” you reply, handing him the latte and pointing to the sugar bowl on the counter next to the till. 

“I wasn’t trying to make a move or anything,” he says, sounding slightly hurt, “I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, immediately regretting your tone, “I’m just not used to compliments I guess, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I should’ve just said thanks,” you look over at him and give him a smile, “Thanks Dieter.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling back. 

You knock out the used coffee grounds and fill it up again to make your own coffee. Dieter reaches over and grabs four sugar cubes and drops them in the latte, stirring while he watches you work. He’s watching you closely again and it makes your cheeks heat up. He’s got a strange energy of childish mayhem and intense magnetism, chaos that’s either going to make you laugh until your sides hurt or fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week. And you’re not sure which one you want. 

Your coffee done, you add a splash of milk and lean against the counter opposite Dieter, taking a careful sip. He’s wrapped both his large hands around the thick glass and is delicately licking the foam, drawing a pattern in it with his tongue. You watch him for a few seconds until he notices you and gives you a sheepish grin. 

“What?” he asks, copying your tone from earlier. 

“You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, immediately regretting your filterless mouth. 

But he gives you a disarming smile, “Gorgeous. Gorgeous baker girl that smells like cookies and caramel and chocolate.” 

“You’re just high,” you can’t help but scoff at him, but he just shakes his head. 

“No, not at all.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you, the silence stretching between you until you think something will have to snap and it’s probably going to be you. 

The phone saves you, the timer going off just as you don’t think you can stand another second of his chocolate brown eyes looking at you like you’re the snack he’s been asking for. 

“Thecaramelisset,” you rush out, breaking eye contact and hurrying back into the kitchen as if another second in the fridge would ruin the whole thing. Dieter comes in behind you at a slower pace, still drinking his coffee. 

You pull out the tray and set it down on the workbench before turning on the burner under a saucepan of water, setting up a water bath. 

“I’m just gonna melt this chocolate, and then I’ll spread it on top, it’ll set pretty quickly. And then it’s done.” You work quickly, too flustered to look at him and he hoovers just to your side, watching your movements. 

The chocolate melts fast, you only need a thin layer, and then you pour it over the caramel. You scrape the bowl clean but leave a generous amount of chocolate on the spatula, giving it to Dieter. 

“Don’t burn your mouth, it’s still warm”, you say when he takes it. He doesn’t grab your hand this time, but his fingertips brushes over yours as he nods, and it sends a sharp little jolt through you. 

You turn back to the almost finished shortbread but can’t help glancing over at him. His pink tongue comes out and licks the chocolate, this time it’s not over the top, nothing provocative about it, he’s not even looking at you. But you swear you can feel every stroke of his tongue on your own skin, burning hot and wet.

You swallow and tear your eyes away, blindly reaching for the crushed peanuts, taking a handful and scattering it across the chocolate. The Millionaire’s Shortbread is done and you slide the tray back into the fridge, it only needs a few minutes. Dieter remains by the counter, finishing off the chocolate on the spatula as you start to clean up the kitchen and bring out the cookie dough that still needs to be taken care of. You see Dieters eyes widen as he sees the first scoop of dough land on the baking tray. 

“Is that chocolate chip,” he almost whispers reverently, spatula forgotten, as he slowly comes over to stare down into the bowl. 

“You want to try it? It’s double chocolate chip with browned butter.” 

He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head back before he looks at you and nods, “Please, it smells so good.” 

You grab a tasting spoon, giving him a generous scoop and watch with a smile as he puts it in his mouth. His eyes close of their own volition as he moans, far too enticingly, around the spoon. 

“Oh my god…” he sighs, slowly chewing the dough, “This is like heaven, better than sex, better than fucking coke.” 

“Knock yourself out,” you chuckle, “it’s not healthy but it’s sure as hell better for you than coke.” 

“And sex?” he asks with a wink, still rolling the dough around his mouth. 

“They’re probably on par, but this is tastier than cum.” 

Dieter nearly chokes, coughing loudly as you giggle. Between repeated attempts at clearing his throat he points his finger at you accusingly, trying to grin between his coughing.

“You’re…” he coughs again, “You’re a dirty baker girl!” he finally manages, grinning widely as you go back to scooping dough, still giggling. 

“I can’t believe I said that, but you did serve it up perfectly.” 

“I did, but I never thought your mind was that filthy, I’m appalled” he laughs, placing a hand on his chest in a mock gesture of shock. “Better than cum huh? You have a lot of experience in that department?” 

Now he’s winking again, poking to get more details out of you. So instead you take another tasting spoon, scoop up more dough and put it straight into his mouth to shut him up. It works, he grins around the spoon and smacks his lips at the taste. 

“So fucking good, definitely better than cum,” he smirks, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you wanna taste it?” 

“I’m good, I’ve already tasted the dough many times,” you reply, careful to specify that you’re talking about dough. 

“Maybe not like this though,” Dieter says, suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against yours. It almost makes you jump, his soft lips against yours, his aftershave, it all envelops you in an instance. He’s not touching you anywhere else, just your lips, and you can’t taste him, his mouth is still closed. Maybe you should push him off, the thought flits through your mind for a split second. But you want to taste him, taste the cookie dough you know is delicious, mingled with him, so you part your lips, your tongue coming out. 

Dieter lets a quiet groan slip out as he part his lips, letting you in, opening his mouth and tilting his head to come closer. You hear the spoon clatter to the floor as his hand comes up and cups your cheek, his big hand reaching behind your neck, another stifled groan from him. He tastes of sugar, coffee and chocolate, all flavors mingling into something enticing that pulls you closer.

There’s nothing delicate about this kiss now, you lick into his mouth, and he offers you all the space you want, holding you close and moaning softly as your tongues tangle.

“Touch my hair,” he mumbles, breathing into your mouth, “I want to feel your hands in my hair.” 

“They’re all sticky, Dieter,” you protest but you feel him shake his head, his lips brushing over yours. 

“I don’t care, touch me, hold me, I want to smell like you when I leave,” his tongue slips between your lips, and you run your hands through his hair. You can feel it sticking, tugging at his wild locks but he just groans, his hands holding you tighter and, encouraged, you let your own hands run across his body, eliciting another loud groan from him. 

Tension is building between the two of you, he is growing hard against your belly, unmistakably turned on and doing nothing to hide it. You can feel heat radiating from your own core, so scorching he must feel it too through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. If this doesn’t stop soon he’ll have you bent over the workbench in a minute, and Health and Safety would definitely have something to say about that. 

With a groan and tremendous effort, you put your hands on his chest and push him away. His lips chase yours for a few seconds, eyes closed, a protest coming from him, before he looks down at you with a sigh. 

“You taste even better than you smell,” he says, not letting go of your cheek, his other hand still around your waist. 

“The cookie dough goes really well with the coffee,” you reply, your mouth quirking up in a smile and he matches it, a dopey look on his face. 

“Amazing,” he breathes, "you're amazing, baker girl.” 

His adoration makes you tremble, you feel the heat in your cheeks, and he sees it, leaning into your lips. He stops and looks at you for a beat, to ask for your permission, and when you don’t pull away he presses a soft kiss to your warm mouth, so different from the hasty, heated kiss you just shared. This one lasts only for a few seconds, gentle, before he pulls back, his hand slowly trailing along your check. 

“I should probably call for my ride,” he says softly, “it’ll take a while to get here.” 

“Ok,” you nod, “the shortbread should be done too.” 

“Ok,” he replies, but he doesn’t make a move to leave and you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

“I really should…” he sighs, tracing his fingertips over your cheek again, “call that ride.” 

“Go, do that, I’ll cut the shortbread, we can have some while we wait for your ride.” You lightly put your hand on his warm chest and push him away, smiling, but you really want to bunch your hand in the soft t-shirt and pull him closer. 

“Ok,” he says, louder this time, as if making up his mind. He shoves his hand in his pocket, miraculously finding his phone intact as you bring the tray out of the fridge. 

The whole thing has set into layers, so you take a sharp knife and start cutting rectangles, slipping them up and onto the tray that goes in your display case, some go into a take away box, two you put on a separate plate and then look around for Dieter, spotting his broad back out by the back door. Just as you come over to him he ends his call, turning around to you with a smile. 

“My ride will be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, following you to the doorstep and sitting down. You sink down next to him, maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but he’s wide and takes up almost the whole door frame. Your cookie dough is still waiting for you, you’ll be playing catch up with your baking for the rest of the morning, but it’ll be worth it. This chaotic, disheveled man has made your morning a lot more exciting than usual and you’re a little bit sad to see him go. 

“Here, what you came for,” you say, holding out the plate, and Dieter takes one of the Millionaire’s Shortbread. 

“I can’t believe you made these just for me,” he grins and bites into it. You watch his face, this is your favorite part of baking, watching people when they taste the finished thing. And Dieter doesn’t disappoint, he groans, loudly, grabbing onto your arm and leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his whole body reacting to the flavors in his mouth as he chews. 

“I Iive here now,” he moans, “I’m giving up my career, I’m going to live in your bakery and pay you to feed me for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head up and takes another big bite of the shortbread, groaning again as he looks at you, his eyebrows pulled together, big brown eyes pleading. “How is this so good?” he moans, his tongue coming out to catch an errant peanut crumb, “you’ve got to taste this.” 

He holds up the last bite of the shortbread to you, and you open your mouth, letting him place it between your lips. You feel his fingers brush over them as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to swipe over your bottom lip. 

“It’s really good, I’m pretty happy with this,” you say, trying to not chew with your mouth open as Dieter looks at you, his eyes on your lips.

“Do you want another one?” you ask, holding up the plate and Dieter nods fervently and groans again as he takes a bite. 

“I can’t decide, this or sex, which is better,” he chuckles, and you nod. You know the cake is good, but you can’t help but wonder if sex with Dieter might not be even better. 

You sit side by side in the early morning sunshine, eating the cakes. Dieter soon finishes his second one and cracks the lid on the take away box you’ve given him, sneaking a third one with a childish grin that makes you happy to see. 

“Seriously, I live here now, I’m moving in tomorrow,” he mumbles, moaning between bites, leaning on you, his head on your shoulder. 

“You do that Dieter, I might even let you lick the bowl once in a while,” you say, patting his messy hair. 

“Lick the bowl or lick your bowl, baker girl?” he giggles and you give him a light smack, shaking your head. 

“Enough with the porn jokes,” you scold him, no menace to your words, he can hear the smile in your voice and giggles again. 

“Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, “Nothing weird, I promise, I’m just really tired suddenly.” 

“Ok, sure, but your ride should be here soon.” 

“Yeah, I just wanna relax my eyes for a while….” Dieter yawns and slips down the stairs to sit on the last step, hooking his arm around your hips and putting his head on your lap. The warm weight of him on your legs is actually comforting, his arm a steady hold behind you. Without thinking about it you start carding your fingers through his hair, adding to the sticky mess, making it stand on end, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It takes him minutes to fall asleep, a low rumbling snore coming from him. 

You keep stroking his head for a few more minutes before you carefully lift his head up and slip out from under him, letting his arm be his pillow. You need to go back to baking, your first customers will be arriving soon and you haven’t even put the cookies in the oven, you want them fresh and warm when the early morning commuters arrive. 

Back in the kitchen you quickly scoop the rest of the dough on the trays and get them in the oven and start stocking the display case out front with what’s already done. You’re just sliding the last croissants into the tray when the opening hour strikes and you flip the sign on the front door. You’ve been listening out back for a car to pull up but you haven’t heard anything and once the morning rush starts, you’re swamped and a couple of hours pass before you even realize. When it finally calms down you wipe down the counter and clean your hands before checking out by the back door. It’s still open, but Dieter is gone, as is the take away box, not a trace of your chaotic, magnetic early morning visitor. 

Hours later, as you’re about to close up for the day, a delivery van pulls up in front of the shop. A man in a uniform jumps out and comes rushing in with a box and an extravagant bouquet of flowers with a vase.  “Delivery for you, miss,” he says, handing you a device to sign your name on, and then the flowers and the box. 

“Thanks,” you say but the man is already halfway out the door. 

The flowers fill the small shop with their scent, and you place them on the counter, next to the till, stopping to stick your nose into the white lilac and breathing deeply before getting the shop closed up.

You flip the sign and take the box into the kitchen, the back door is still open to let the warm spring air in. Sinking down on the stairs where you sat with Dieter just this morning, you open the box. It contains another box and inside that, a note. But there’s also a mouth watering, rich, smell of pastry and meat coming from the box. Intrigued, you open the lid, only to find a thermal container inside, like a small version of the ones used to keep delivery pizza warm. Inside are six fat, delicious looking sausages rolls. Your stomach gives a hungry grumble and you immediately grab one, laughing as you remember Dieter’s first request this morning; sausage rolls, like the ones he bought in England after party nights. 

The sausage roll really is as delicious as it looks and you grab a second one before you pick up the note that came with them. 

It's a double folded piece of paper, so thick it almost looks like part of a canvas. On the inside a note is scribbled in a looped, flowing handwriting. 

“Next time I’m asking you on a date, baker girl /D” 

Part Two

If you want to make Dieter's Millionaire's Shortbread, here's the recipe I used.

[tonyboneysblog]

MOTHER: PREQUEL

parings: none!

wordcount: 3.3k

notes: lmao yall im back…for like five seconds

warnings: pregnancy, very angsty 😬

Summary: you’re an upcoming hero with a good family, amazing boyfriend and now a child you never wanted.

————————————————————————

you hands shake softly as you purge whatever breakfast you had into the bowl below you.

You mother knocked on the door, you could practically feel her concern seeping the door.

“Y/N, sweetie are you okay?” Her voice is slightly wobbly, lined with worry.

You rub your mouth with the back of your palm, “M’fine mom.”

You flush the toilet and stumble out the bathroom, your mother twirls her fingers together. Concern on her face.

Your mother was quite the looker, deep, jet black hair with dark feathers sprouting from the back of her neck, she had small wings on her back that matched her hair.

You father looked almost exactly like you, he had the stronger genes, your mother always said.

Your mother speaks up again, “are you sure you want to see your boyfriend today? You could be contagious..”

You sigh softly, “mom, it was just something I ate I swear.”

You straighten up your skirt, walking towards the front door as your mother tried to tell you just to rest, but you can’t really- you already planned a date and you wouldn’t wanna cancel so late.

You stop at the front door, “Mom, I’m fine- I’m gonna be a hero anyways and sometimes I just need to power through.”

Your mother sighs, looking back and forth towards you and the bathroom that you had just used.

“Fine, but call me if you start to feel worse.”

You smile, “yeah, I will.”

You met your current boyfriend at the hero school you were attending, Minato Wantanabe, kids would pick on him since his head was literally a crow but you thought it was kinda cute.

It pays off to be nice to people, now you have an amazing, cute, bird boyfriend.

Your feet carry you towards the local dinner, it was Minatos favorite, he loved the pancakes.

You can spot his beak peeking through the diners window, the diner was painted in a vibrant red but it had gone dull from the last decade.

You walk through the double doors with a small ding from the bell above them, Minato looks over towards the noise only to see you.

You happily make your way over towards the booth before kissing Minatos cheek and sitting infront of him.

“Evening, Y/N.” He says with a small smile.

You look towards him with a coy grin, “evening..”

The date proceeds as planned, you always enjoy time with Minato.

You just had to ignore the steadily growing nausea growing in your stomach.

Minato offered to walk you home but you declined, he probably couldn’t keep up with the speeds that you’d have to go to make it to the bathroom.

maybe you should’ve told your mom when you first felt it.

You try and jog home but that just made it worse, you run faster, doesn’t help.

You make it to your front door, opening it up quickly with your house key the booking towards the bathroom to clear out the poor, delicious pancakes you had earlier.

there was absolutely no way you could’ve been sick, you felt fine aside from barfing your guts out.

You flush down the gross mix of stomach acid and pancakes, washing your hands and walking towards your bedroom.

you were fine, you had to be.

Hero’s would never let a silly cold get them down.

But it continued, you threw up every morning.

Now, you were aware you had an irregular period, either from all the stress of work or your birth control.

So why would you be worried if you missed a couple days?

You only got worried when one of your school friends decided to open her mouth.

“Y/N I know this sounds so rude- but have you been gaining weight?” Her voice is quiet.

You look at her confused, “what? I mean I could’ve but, im always training.”

She nods, “yeah thats why I’m so confused, like are you over eating?”

though slightly offended, you respond anyways.

You hum softly, “that could be it?”

Why would a future hero like you “overeat”.

Really why was it any of her business that you were gaining weight.

“I’m mean- girl to girl, I heard boys really hate extra weight- I mean Minato is a nice guy but he’s also a guy yknow?” She rambles, her voice only increasing as she speaks.

You wave her off, “Mhm, thanks Hina.”

You try not to storm out of the locker room. instead walking towards your closer friend, Tori.

What does she even know, Minato loves you.

He wouldn’t leave you after something so small.

You groan quietly, “Hina just basically told me I’m a fattie.”

Tori chuckles softly, “shes a ditz Y/N.”

“I’m aware, she even started talking about Minato.” You lean against a near locker.

“Maybe she wants him?”

You chuckle, “oh please…”

Tori looks at you, slight concern lining her eyes, “I mean, your stomach is looking a little plump but that’s probably just bloating.”

You look at her confused, Tori’s supposed to be on your side.

Tori places her finger on her chin, something she does when she’s “deep in thought”.

“How’s that nausea problem you have?” She mumbles softly.

“Still going on, I’m not worried.”

Tori’s brows furrow, “you haven’t seen a doctor yet?”

“No- probably some stomach virus, I’ll throw it up-“

Tori cuts you off with a groan of your name.

You try to explain but Tori stops talking, looking away until concern fills her face again.

She leans in you ear, “you and Minato aren’t like- active?”

Your brows furrow, “I-i mean yeah..”

Tori sighs softly, her face suddenly serious.

“I think you should go to the doctor.”

You scoff, pushing yourself off of the locker, “Tori, I’m not pregnant.”

but what if, right?

Tori shrugs her shoulders as she returns to whatever she was doing in her locker.

It couldn’t hurt right? You’d like to stop throwing up anyways.

So after school, you take the train towards the doctors office.

You fill out your name on the sheet and sit down and wait until they call your name.

You’re not pregnant, no way- you and Minato are always careful.

“Y/N?” The nurse calls your name softly.

You perk up and walk through the door, you follow the nurse. Is it bad you’re a little worried?

You explain to her why you’re here, then they just do a basic procedure. Taking blood, height, weight, etc.

You kick your legs gently against the floor, waiting patiently for them to just tell you you’ve got a stomach virus and pump you full of drugs.

The nurse knocks before opening the door, she has a gentle small on her face.

“You’re pregnant!” She says.

she continues talking but, you block her voice out.

Pregnant? Fucking pregnant?

What would your mother say- your father?

what would Minato say.

The nurse taps your knee softly, “I know it’s a lot to hear for someone of your age, 16 and all.”

not to mention you where going to one of the best hero schools.

what about your future?

What would this…thing- do to it?

Your zone out through the rest of the visit, you sit quietly and alone on the train back home.

you walk back to the house, unlocking the door and walking in, your mother and sister and sitting in the living room laughing.

They look towards your distraught face.

Your mother mouths something along the lines of, “come here sweetie.”

You sit on the chair that’s next to the couch.

Your voice dies when you try to speak.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” You mothers voices shakes, you stare at your sister.

You’re setting a terrible example.

your mother always said you could talk to her.

but this? how would she react- how?

“I’m pregnant.”

The room is silent before your mother covers her mouth.

her eyes blown wide.

Your sister mumbles a small, “what?”

Your watch your mother curl into herself as she starts to sob.

You don’t understand why you can’t cry.

Your father quickly stomps down the stairs at his wifes cries.

“What’s wrong?” He asks loudly.

Your mother points a shaking hand at you, “she’s fucking pregnant!”

You can hear the distain in her voice.

Your father only takes a deep breath in before resting his head against the wall.

You thought you would make your parents proud by being a hero, but now look at you.

You need this baby out of your life.

The rest of the night is a blur.

The rest of the week is a blur aside from the conversation you had with your father.

“You’re gonna be a hero Y/N, you don’t need a child in your life.” He voices is more stern than usual.

“I know dad.”

He cups your hands gently, “you need to get rid of it.”

You voice shakes when you respond.

“I know.”

“It”, he says.

Were you referred as that when your mother was pregnant?

You take the train to the doctor’s office, you don’t need a kid in your life- you barely know how to take care of one.

You’re only a kid too.

When you walk towards the front desk, the nurse recognizes you.

“Mrs. Tokoyami! Came to check up on the baby?” She smiles.

You stay quiet for a moment, no- no you came to get rid of it.

She stares at you with those kind eyes.

“We could do an ultra sound if you want?”

No, you need to get rid of it.

you have to.

Just tell her Y/N.

Your brows furrow, “a what?”

the nurse chuckles softly, “an ultrasound? So you can see your baby.”

No, the thought repeats over and over. Thought the words never come out of your mouth.

Your voice is barely audible when you respond, “I’d like that.”

Your father would be furious.

The nurse walks your towards a room with a machine.

Your mother is already disappointed.

She lays your down on the table, its soft.

look at the example your setting for your little sister.

The gel is cool when she places it onto stomach, she looks concentrated.

Look at what person you’re becoming.

Until a bright smile comes onto her face, “there they are.”

You look towards the screen, it’s a little hard to make out but you can see them.

it’s small.

She hands you a photo when you come back to the front desk to pay.

it’s the baby.

When you take the train home you can’t stop staring at it.

You were supposed to get rid of it.

You walk into your house, knees on the brink of buckling.

your family sits in the living room, they’re expecting something.

Your voice breaks, “I couldn’t do it.”

Your father rolls his eyes with a sigh, standing up quickly and walking past you.

Your mother places her face into her palms, sighing deeply.

“I-I was thinking of giving them to another family.” you say quickly.

You mother perks up, “alright.”

Your try to continue speaking but your mom ends up blocking you out.

You stumble your way up stairs towards your room, you walk past your sisters but she’s not in her bed.

She’s in yours when you open the door to your room.

Your sister looks up at your, she’s sitting on the bed.

“I over heard that your keeping it.” She tries not to smile.

Your face scrunches, “Why’re you happy about that?”

Your sister excitedly pats the space next to her, you sit on it.

“I wanna be an auntie.” She grins.

You sigh softly, “you can’t, I’m giving them to another family.”

Your sister pouts, “why, she’s yours..”

“Don’t assume the gender.”

Your sister groans, “I want it to be a girl!”

You crack a smile, “too bad, he’ll be a boy.”

a boy, it’s a nice thought.

“You don’t know that.” She playfully pushes you.

You push her back, “I’m the mom so I decided the gender!”

Your sister giggles as her back hits the bed.

You slam yourself next to her staring up at the glow in the dark stars on your roof, you forced your dad to put them up when you were younger.

“Can I name it?” Your sister asks excitedly.

“No, fumiko.”

She groans loudly, crossing her arms together tightly.

Your room stays quiet for a considerable amount of time, you almost believe that your sister fell asleep but she’s still staring at the room with you.

“I think you should keep it forever.” Her voice is small.

“I want to be a hero.”

You have to be.

your sister hums then gets up and leaves you alone.

it’s just you alone in your room.

you feel like it’s always been that way.

You have to tell Minato, you have a date tomorrow anyways.

At that little diner, the one with the red, dull paint that’s cracking off the walls.

The next day, you meet with Minato.

you sit in-front of him, you look slightly drained he notices.

“Everything okay?” His voice breaks you out of your trance.

You grab his hands softly, “I’m- I’m pregnant.”

Minatos jaw drops slightly, “and it’s mine?”

You nod softly, but Minato takes his hands away from yours.

You look up confused, Minatos face is scrunched up in…anger?

“We’re done.”

what?

You try to bargain, “Minato-“

“Y/N I’m trying to be a hero, not- not a father?!” Minato stands ups quickly and storms out of the diner.

you can feel the eyes on you, the judgement.

this thing, is ruining your life.

the next month is a blur, you talked to your sister a lot, Tori noticed a change in you but she never asked.

You go back to the doctor, apparently you’ve been pregnant for about three months, they say they can find out the gender of you wanted.

you couldn’t stop yourself from being curious but you declined anyway, no point in creating an attachment to something that you’ll give to another family soon.

One that they deserve.

You’d be a shit mother anyway, that’s what you think.

worst part about it is that your starting to show more, kids at school are starting to notice.

Tori does too.

You’re sitting down near a tree eating your lunch when she confronts you about it.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you.” Her voice is calm.

You nod softly, Tori sighs a sits next to you.

“What’s the gender?”

You shrug, you wouldn’t know- you didn’t care to ask.

Tori hums, “what do you want it to be?”

You pull your knees into your chest, not responding.

“I think I’d like it to be a cute little girl.” She smiles looking off into the clouds.

“A boy.” You mumble quietly.

Tori gags, “boys are terrible!”

You giggle softly, “yeah, they are.”

Tori wrap her arm around your shoulder, placing her head onto yours.

“You keeping it? Or putting it through the whole adoption thing.” Her voice is soft, considerate.

“Adoption.”

Tori stays quiet for a moment, “I could help you, if you wanna keep her.”

You look down at your feet, “I’d have to quit school.”

Tori groans dramatically, “Being a hero isn’t all that anyways, I’d know cause I’m in the support course.”

You stay quiet as Tori continues talking about how hero’s truly aren’t amazing, that they’re enough in the world and no one would be angry if you decided not to be one.

“You could be a nurse yknow, you’d still be helping people.” She pats your shoulder.

You hum, being a hero was always your dream. Would you really give up all the hard work you’ve done over some kid?

“He’ll be better off with a different family, I don’t want him.” You say quietly and stern.

Tori giggles- why is she laughing?

your being serious aren’t you?

“Referring to it as a he, even thought you don’t care? whatever you say Tokoyami.” Tori ruffles your hair as she stands up.

You look up towards her, brows furrowed.

“Call me if decided to keep “him”, okay Tokoyami?”

You nod softly, watching her walk away towards the school building. Your next class is about to start, maybe you should join her.

You stand up and jog over next to her, walking quietly beside eachother.

maybe this pregnancy won’t be so terrible with Tori next to you.

Month 6, your parents called the principal and convinced him to let you off of school until the baby comes.

So now alll you can do is stay at home and wait.

At least you won’t have to see Minato anymore.

Month 7

Tori comes over to your house a lot, always bringing the most disgustingly “pregnancy craving” foods you’ve ever seen.

It’s the thought that counts though right?

Your mother continues to either ignore you, or nit pick everything you do.

your father doesn’t really talk to you like he used to.

Your sister won’t stop talking, about the baby specifically.

You wish it would stop.

Month 8

It’s closer to your due date, your just want him out.

Him.

Why do you keep referring to it like that, it’s not yours so what’s the point.

Maybe it’s to spite Tori, she wants it to be a girl- so does your sister.

it doesn’t matter though, once he’s- it’s. Once it’s out you can continue your dream of being a hero.

you have to.

Month 9, Tori won’t stop talking about him.

“Aren’t you excited? Even a little bit?” Her voice shows it, how happy she is.

your voice is bare, “excited to get him out? Yes.”

Tori is quiet.

then you are quiet.

“It wouldn’t be terrible to be a mom.” Her voice goes soft.

“You don’t understand.”

Her voice rises, “I’m trying to.”

And then it’s quiet again, would it be terrible?

you think it’s the worst thought ever to be thinked.

The thought becomes even worse as you walk around your hospital room, in pain.

Your parents decided they didn’t want to be there, that’s fine.

everyone will forget this little bump in your life.

the numbing pain that flows through your body when you go into labor.

the tightness of your grasp as you hold a nurses hand, later she says she feels like it almost broke.

the pain your head experiences as the thought, “get out” repeats.

then, it’s calm.

it’s out, your free.

why isn’t it crying?

you look up, your eyes are blurry- your heart feels heavy.

Is he okay?

Then he cries, you let out a breath of relief you never knew you had.

“It’s a boy.” The doctor says.

Then he is placed next to you, his fingers are so small.

everything else goes away, it’s just you and him now.

Then they take him away.

And you can finally rest.

Later your woken up, Tori’s next to you.

“He’s cute” you hear her say.

You laugh, Tori smiles.

Your sister walks in, she wanted to come- begged your parents to take her.

She excitedly sits down next to you.

“Fumiko…” you say softly.

She replies but you never comprehend the words.

Then later they ask you what his name will be. maybe it only took you a minute or two to name him.

You liked the way it rolled off your tongue.

Then you were discharged from the hospital, your son in your hands.

It’s weird to think that you made him.

Is it bad you felt some sort of pride in your chest?

Tori let you stay with her, you couldn’t face your parents.

The room the lent you was small but it was enough for the two of you.

You and him.

He is cute isn’t he? Small fingers, a face that looks just like his father’s but it didn’t fill you with hate- only love.

Instead of being alone, he was there with you.

His eyes are big, he coos softly.

“Hi Fumikage…” you say softly.

It’s just you and Fumikage now, maybe being a hero can wait.

You want to be his hero.

————————————————————————

AN: wazzuppp guys…so i definitely have been a tiny bit busy but i decided to finally sit down a finish this prequel! (Don’t ask me when I’m finishing accidental nab bro) don’t know what my next fanfic will be about…figuring it out currently cause now i actually have time to write.. ANYWAYS LOVE YOU GUYS SMMM I MISSED YOUUU!!

[berylcups]

haiiiii :3 could i perchance request some melone headcanons......... any kind of headcanons, that's totally up to you!! im in need of more content of my favorite purple haired freak :3

Melone HCs?! Now how can I say no to that? 😄 I’ve thought long and hard about this purple blorbo and squeezed all of my thoughts out on here! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of this adorable freak! 💜 Beryl

🍈Melone HCs🍈

CW: This IS Melone we’re talking about so…. Beware the lewdness!

Notes: this is technically number 2 in my list but I thought I’d send this one out first since it got completed first. And it will give you all something to nibble on while I finish up number 1 and start on number 3! 😄 I hope you all enjoy ! 💜 Beryl

This guy sucks at cooking. The most he can do is microwave ramen, Mac and cheese, and boil pasta. 😭

He genuinely thinks pineapple is an ok topping for a pizza. Not bad not great…just OK. The squad is offended and speechless about his apathy of fruit being on a pizza . But his rebuttal is-tomato is a fruit and it’s on a pizza. Someone needs to hold Ghiaccio back because he’s ready to THROW HANDS.🙌

He’s the biggest Anti-hydro homie ever. He HATES drinking plain water. 💧 He only drinks coffee, tea, soda, energy drinks, juice, and alcohol. How does he have clear skin?! He uses lots of trendy face creams and just has good genetics. Lucky bastard.😩

He thinks cola and root beer is the nastiest drink imaginable. He calls it the “black bile” based off the 4 humors of the human body.

He forgets to eat…It’s so bad that he gets a little snarky and Ghiaccio kindly reminds him by saying “oi Melone! Quit acting like a cunt and go eat something for fucks sake!”

He stays up ridiculously late. If he’s not pulling an all-nighter, he’s going to bed by 4am.

He sleeps in his underwear…and it’s a thong. 😳 he used to sleep nude but he also sleeps walks occasionally and nobody wants to see his junk so the team forced him to AT LEAST sleep in underwear!

Believe it or not, his natural hair color is purple! He only dyed it blonde to disguise himself for a mission.

He lost his tonsils from getting too many strep throat infections as a kid. He wanted to keep the removed tonsils but his mom said no. 😞

He’s not hairy but he does wax his entire body. No razor, no hair removal creams…just good ol wax. Ouch. 😬 his skin is as smooth as a dolphin.

His perfume/cologne smells like cucumber melon, green tea, and a citrus blend. Mmm…He’s fruity smelling!

He has a insane 4-5 step system when he washes his hair. He’s used to the warm water going cold on him in the middle of his showering routine. He must put up with the chills in order to have the best hair in the squad! …illuso totally isn’t seething with jealousy btw.

Melone was born and raised in Venezia with Ghiaccio as his best friend growing up. His venetian accent isn’t heavy like Ghiaccios.

He’s 25 years old and identifies as nonbinary. Melone is pretty lax with his pronouns but identifies as they/them it/its and he/him.

His sexuality? It’s yes please! 😄 He’s on board to get down with anyone! He has no preference when it comes to gender…you just need to have an open mind! Although, there are bonus points to be given out if you’re physically able (and consenting) to bear children. If not, he definitely won’t hold it against you! He’s DTF and ready to sweep you off your feet!

This guy has no ass but he can dance like he has one. Twerking and grinding his way at the club hopefully into someone’s pants. 😳

This inhuman human can swallow a banana WHOLE. He has no gag reflex, the dentists love him. Take that information for what you will.

He absolutely HATES snakes. Just the sight of them will make him gag 😭. He’s cool with other reptiles though. Just keep snakes away from him. 🐍

He can’t tell what he likes more-cats or dogs. He likes cats because they are independent and clean but…they like to scratch. He likes dogs because they’re loyal and friendly but… they can poo everywhere. It’s a difficult decision for him to decide! He’ll settle with a reptile like a chameleon. 🦎

He went to university for Botanical studies. He has a hobby for horticulture and beekeeping.

He also dabbles in astrology and reading fortunes through palm reading. (Usually by licking your hand 😬)

He has shaky hands. He doesn’t have great dexterity due to all the caffeine he drinks. He wants to paint his nails but it always looks messy. 😬 so he’s stuck using clear nail polish unless he has enough money to go to the nail salon. 💅

He’s an avid video gamer. His console of choice is the PC, but isn’t interested the console vrs PC wars. If there’s a game he likes and it’s only available on a certain platform, he’s going to get it. Ghiaccio, Formaggio, and Pesci are welcome to his consoles but they need their own controller. He doesn’t want no cheeto hands in his squeaky clean controllers! (This is mostly a rule for formaggio since he snacks and plays.) And no touching Melones laptop! That’s his baby—Babyface. And there’s cursed things you might find on there. 🥴

He’s the best at rhythm games while Ghiaccio is the best at racing games. They both rival each other when it comes to puzzle games.

🔥 Spicy HCs 🔥

According to him, the first time he ever got an erection was when he saw a high heel shoe ad in his moms Vogue Italia. He stole that page and “discovered “ himself. 😳 his mom did catch him and she tells this embarrassing story to her friends and family and social gatherings. Yikes 😬

This guy eats ass/pussy like groceries. Like a man who hasn’t eaten in DAYS. He’s a part of the clean plate club if you know what I mean. 😏 you don’t? Well uh… he good at oral idk 🤷‍♀️

Majority of the time he is a bottom. He’ll dom if you want him to. He’s a slut he’ll do ANYTHING you want.

His top kinks are feet, latex, body worship, and breeding (giving and receiving).

His favorite position is doggy, reverse cowgirl, and the classic mating press. This goes for him and his partner.

His favorite times to do it is shower time and when you both wake up. There’s just something about lazily screwing you from behind as he spoons you. It’s his drug and reason for living.

Despite his promiscuous demeanor he doesn’t have one night stands often. He much rather find his soulmate.

He prefers to only use surrogates for babyface that he deems “human trash “. The most toxic of the toxic cruelest ueterus havers. He would never use a good person as materials for his stand. He doesn’t have the heart to believe it or not. His apathy only extends to violent cruel people.

When he finds someone he’s interested in he falls hard. He does want to fuck them ASAP but he wants to treat them like the monarch like they are.

King of aftercare! He’s going to talk sweetly to you and cuddle with you. He’s gonna tend to your bruises, Make a bath for you, clean his fluids off of you, make you something to drink…anything you want 💜

More than likely you will probably be bruising him since he loves being your bottom, but he will still try to give you aftercare after you rode him for over an hour straight. 😅 Be firm and tell him no and give him the same care he gives you. You’ll melt his heart!

[mybworlds]

Chapter 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

A/N As requested by you, here is the fourth chapter of ODLS ✌🏼 I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎 I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. 📖 If you didn't like this story, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

If you want to leave a comment and tell me what you think, thanks ❤️

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 @harriedandharassed if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

The next day when you open your eyes you feel wrapped in something incredibly warm. You open your eyes and realize that you are completely surrounded by Peña's arms.

You turn towards him and you see him. He's sleeping, his breathing is a little heavy, his lips are half open, he frowns every now and then and you can't help but smile. He seems almost normal in this circumstance, he doesn't seem to be the hardened seducer or the man who uses cutting words towards you. He even seems to be sweet.

You can't stand him and yet you have to admit it to yourself, he's like a magnet. You want to slap him and hug him at the same time. He mutters something unintelligible and all your thoughts of him stop.

“Lorraine.” he mutters.

Who is she? One of many?

He is still sleeping when he continues to mumble in his sleep “Why?” his expression becomes one of pain and so you decide to wake him up.

“Javier,” you shake him “Javier! Peña!” he opens his eyes “It’s okay, you were dreaming.” you reassure him.

He rolls over onto his back and looks at the ceiling. He starts breathing normally again, covering his face with one hand.

“It was just a dream,” you repeat.

But his expression doesn't soften. It must have been a terrible nightmare.

“What did you dream? Do you want to tell me about it?”

He takes a deep breath and exhales, then turns his head away, “Don’t worry too much about me. I’m fine.”

“All right.” you simply answer by sitting in the middle of the bed and turning your head towards the balcony from which the sunlight filters.

You run a hand through your hair, “I’m going to wash myself,” you tell him, but it’s as if you were talking to yourself because he doesn’t reply or say anything.

The jet of cool water gently caresses your skin, freeing you from that strange pleasant warmth that Peña's arms had left on you. A strange growing uneasiness spreads within you, today you will have to actively search for El Diablo. You don't know what to expect. You just know that he has inhuman ways and that if you go against him and his business, you're dead.

You hear the door open and then close. You turn off the water for a moment and open the shower door, “Peña?”

You wait a few moments, but he doesn’t answer. You finish washing yourself and then get out of the shower, you wrap yourself in a towel and then open the door and find your room completely empty. You are perplexed.

Where did he go?

As you search for a dress to go around the resort, you hear the door open. You turn your head slightly to see if Javier is back. He has two large glasses in his hands that you imagine contain coffee and with one foot closes the door behind him.

You stand up with the towel still on, while he seems to want to devour you with just one look. You clear your throat, “Coffee?”

“Uh? Yeah,” the man replies, realizing he was staring at you and handing you the cup.

“Thanks.” you sip your coffees in silence while constantly observing each other. It's strange, but not as strange as yesterday or two days ago.

“Um,” you try to focus on the reason why you are here in France “we have to find him today.” you say looking into his eyes “We have to. Or it will all have been for nothing.” you add.

His eyes have a serious, concentrated expression and then he nods, “Okay, so what's the plan?”

Maybe it's trivial, but you want to look around better. It's likely that El Diablo has booked some exclusive seats and if so, you have to find out today. Javier nods, but he seems to be perhaps too much focused on your still bare legs.

You notice how he stares at your legs, how he lets his gaze wander, how he grits his teeth, how he contorts his mouth. By now you've learned to recognize those little facial movements that let you know he's not thinking about El Diablo, but about something else entirely.

“So, are you okay with this?” you ask him.

“Huh?”

“I knew it!” you exclaim, sighing. “Okay, I’ll get dressed and explain the plan to you, again. Give me a couple minutes.”

Javier hadn't dreamed of his soon-to-be-fiancée for a while and doing so had left him with a deep state of anguish that, despite your attention to him, shows no signs of passing.

Javier truly loved her. He would have married her. He would have even given up his job if she had asked him! She was expecting a child from him, it was obvious that family would come before his work.

Then, the truth came out and Javier felt like he had been punched in the face. Lorraine, his Lorraine, had lied.

From that moment on, he no longer believed in love. From that moment on, he only focused on his physical needs and how they could benefit his investigations.

Even when he met you, he thought he could have a good time by having useful information for his investigation, but you surprised him. You have repeatedly said no to his proposals, allusions and this on the one hand has made you detestable in his eyes, but on the other even more fascinating.

He knows that there is nothing between you except a room that forces you to stay together in a few square meters and a mission in which he wanted to participate strongly. But deep down, Javier also did it because he wants to know you. He wants to know the real you. Not the lonely bitch who barely says hello to anyone when she comes into the office. He knows there's more. If only you'd let go. He knows he upset you by telling you that you need hugs and caresses, and that you are your own worst judge but if he said those words it was because he felt them and was convinced of them.

The night before you fell asleep while whispering a name, you turned over a couple of times in bed and a feeling of great tenderness was unleashed in him, he hugged you tightly in your sleep telling you to stay calm and you started breathing regularly again and you also held onto him.

He doesn't know if you have feelings for him, if it's just physical attraction or if Javier is just imagining it all, but what he notices is that you're not embarrassed about being in his presence almost completely naked as you were on the first day.

When you come out of the bathroom you look enchanting: the dress you chose is blue, your hair is styled in a high bun and you smile. You smile at him. He can't help but smile back with a knowing expression.

You are beautiful.

You are so sure of yourself, you hold his hand with such naturalness that for a few meters, Javier forgets that this is a farce and that there is nothing between you. You're faking it so well. Your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, it all seems so real.

He's even thinking about kissing you, when he sees you as if enraptured by something and you, taking his hand, pull him towards a disco.

“¿Qué es? (What's up?)”

“Ven, Diego. (Come on, Diego.)”

After a moment of recovering from your gestures, Javier realizes what has really caught your attention. You saw one of El Diablo's henchmen enter.

You approach the entrance where you see a brochure inviting the resort's guests to this themed evening. Women must wear a black dress and a small mask, men in white shirt and a mask too.

“That’s perfect.” you whisper in his ears and then looking for his eyes after you leave the club.

“We don’t know if…” he pauses, looking around, “if he’s really going there or if it’s just a trap for us agents. He knows we’re after him.”

A few moments later a man bumps into Javier, “Oops sorry.” he just says before continuing to walk after giving you several glances.

“It'll be fine.” you tsk “What happened to the daredevil man in you?” you tease him as you sit down at a table and have breakfast “I thought you were a man of action!”

He rolls his eyes, “I am, but we were always well equipped, never like this.”

He barely drinks a coffee, you take a croissant and share it. He refuses for the first time, but when you almost put it in his mouth, he can't refuse, smiling at you with his eyes.

When you get up from the table, Javier checks his jacket pocket and frowns.

“What’s up?” you ask him, mimicking his expression.

“The CIA guys are here. That man gave me the same brochure as before. He’s here.” he whispers showing you the flyer that had been written in pen, he is here, eyes and ears open, we don't lose sight of you.

You nod.

“It can be done.”

You take off the ring, he frowns. “What. . . What are you doing?” he asks you.

He had already experienced a similar scene and the result was the same: a punch in the stomach and the sensation of acid rising up.

Lorraine....

“We have to be credible and with a ring on our finger we won’t get very far.”

Javier places a hand on your wrist, “We’ve been pretending to be a married couple here. We made all this fuss and now we have to pretend to be each other’s business?”

“Javi,” you say, placing your hand on his, “it’s just for tonight, then I’ll put it back on.” You reply with a small smile.

Night comes and you and Javier are ready to take the stage. There are really a lot of people, the alcohol flows freely, the music pierces your ears, the lights color all of you in patches.

Javier is particularly nervous. You can see it in the way he looks around, in the glances he throws at you and in the way he lets his gaze wander from you to the others who look at you almost hungrily.

You wore a short black dress that left almost your entire back exposed, a pair of vertiginous heels and red lipstick. Javier a white shirt and a pair of black pants. He’s so fucking handsome.

You grab a beer leaning on the bar and wearing your sexiest look, you’re a bomb.

Peña is at a certain distance from you, but not so far as to lose sight of you.

He is afraid. He didn't want to admit it, but he is afraid. Not so much for himself, he knows how certain things go. He is afraid for you. You never did this, you never pretended to be someone else just to catch a criminal. You always went in company and with a gun in your hand.

“A whiskey.”

You are so fucking beautiful and Javier knows he should be looking anywhere but at you constantly, but tonight you are a delicious distraction.

You are constantly surrounded by groups of young men and you act so naturally as if you have always been undercover, you know when to laugh, when to touch your hair and when to look at "your husband" who is tremendously charming tonight.

It would have been a normal night at a disco if at a certain point Peña hadn't recognized one of El Diablo's henchmen coming towards you and that's when all his senses went on alert. He sees the guy whispers something to you and you, looking away for a moment at your partner, walk away with the stranger.

Peña knows that now he just has to trust you and wait. He can't follow you, he'd put you in serious danger.

Some girl approaches him, tries to seduce him and, if he had been alone, he probably would have even given in, but he can't.

He waits for you for what seems like hours, then he sees you again. You stand still for a moment and then head towards the bar again.

Peña sees the same guy from before still scrutinising you as if to understand whether you are who you said you were or whether you are someone else. Javier loses count of how many drinks you consume, when he sees you half staggering he approaches you placing an arm on your hip.

“Hey, hands off!” you exclaim before turning to him “Oh, it’s you, my husband!” you exclaim, leaning against him and burying your head in the crook of his neck, smiling.

“Don't worry, I'll take you away.” He whispers in your ear, holding you tight and placing a hand on your back.

The two of you walk side by side, or rather you walk completely next to him and several times you rest your head in his hollow, stopping every now and then. He caresses your back, now your hair, in a gesture of affection.

When you enter the room, you lean against the door and look at him, Javier takes off his watch and puts it on the nightstand.

Then you look into each other's eyes for a long moment, "Thank you." you tell him walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck before you find yourself kissing each other sometimes gently, sometimes a little less so.

You are still entwined on the bed, he is between your legs, his hands on the sides of your face so as not to weigh too much on you, you have your hands in his dark hair.

“Don’t.” you say perhaps in a flash of lucidity and then resume kissing and being kissed.

“I was scared for you,” he confesses, giving you a kiss first on the cheek, then on the side of your neck.

“I know you have a soft heart, Javi,” you murmur, holding him close.

The next day when you open your eyes and find yourself wrapped in his arms, you almost jump.

You move him away from you and he jumps, opening his eyes with a annoyed look, “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, looking at you with an annoyed expression.

“No, what the fuck were you doing holding me tight to you?!” you blurt out, adjusting the strap of your dress that had slipped down your arm.

He sits up and runs a hand through his disheveled hair, “Nothing happened between us. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“You better!” you exclaim.

“What the fuck can you be such a bitch when you first wake up!” he exclaims.

“Fuck you.” You tell him, turning your back on him.

For a while you remain silent, “What happened when you walked into that guy in that private room?” he asks.

“He wants me to go to his private room tonight.”

“He?” he asks you, raising his eyebrows as if to make sure he understood correctly.

You nod, “Himself.”

“Fuck.” he whispers, placing a hand over his mouth “Okay, and how did you introduce yourself to him?”

“That’s the problem. Um, I… I said I was an escort.”

“You, what?! Jesus, you couldn't have been that stupid!” he exclaims “And what will you do if he asks you for a blowjob or a fuck?!” he blurts out, widening his eyes “Or worst?!”

“It’s my, our chance.” You tell him. “Don’t worry.”

“I won’t let you do this,” he says, placing a hand on your forearm.

You look at his hand on your forearm, “It’ll be okay.”

“If anything happens to you…” he tells you and you notice all concern in his voice.

You swallow, “I know what I’m doing.” You pause, “But I hope you and the others will have my back.” You add by placing a hand on his.

“I will.”

[count-alucard-tepes]

Headcanons for my Kengan Ashura hotties😍 - how they are when they’re sick🤧

Raian Kure👹: he pretends like he’s fine until he passes out and has to be rushed to the hospital. He has to be sedated until he’s better to leave or all hell will break loose 😂

Kanoh Agito😁: he’s annoyed that he got sick and immediately goes to the doctor to figure out what’s going on. He makes sure he takes all the medication and rest he needs before he’s back at work. A real adult baby daddy😘

Kaolan Wongsawat🥊: he tries his best to brush it off but once it gets a little too much he takes the day off to rest and sleep it off.

Kiryu Setsuna🥰: he’s offended that his body was so weak! Ohma would never let his body be defeated like this! So he makes sure to nurse himself back to health as soon as possible.

Adam Dudley😬: he uses all the homemade recipes he can get his hands on until he gets worse and then gets his butt to the hospital.

Hatsumi Sen😍: he pretends as if he’s on his deathbed and that this is it for him. He has some hot babe take care of him and then he’s super happy.

Sekibayashi Jun🤼‍♂️: he knows that he has to take extra care of his body when he’s sick so he takes it easy and gets all the rest he can.

Hassad❤️‍🩹: he takes his time to rest and gets homemade recipes to help him heal faster.

Himuro Ryo🤍: he phones his friends and tells him he’s sick as he wants a pity party but no one cares lol so he just orders a lot of soup and rests at home.

Inaba Ryo🖤: he tries his best to sleep it off but he just ends up waking up, so he resorts to getting a lot of medication and just watching tv until he falls asleep.

Kiozan Takeru🤼‍♂️: he gets some herbal medicine and makes sure to sleep well. His big brothers come and check up on him to see if he’s doing better. He loves the attention.

Muteba Gizenga🪖: he rarely ever gets sick so when this happens, he just takes time to himself to rest and sleep it off.

Nikaido Ren🤩: he takes time to go to the doctor and get some herbal medication before resting as much as possible.

Sawada Keiraburo💅: he takes several days off to rest and heal his body because he knows it’s best for him.

Yoroizuka Saw Paing😜: he will literally be screaming and shouting (as usual) until he loses his voice and then passes out from exhaustion. When he wakes up at the hospital, he uses notepads to write in all caps to express himself 😂

[mommahughes19-23]

#1 Fan - L.F

@life.of.yn : Eachothers number one fan

tagged : @luca.fantilli @urgreeksis @kayleighdocherty_

location : his bed

Luca.fantilli : not very supportive with slide 3 but ill let it pass because I love you 💓

↪ life.of.yn : I love u more my shmooooookemmsss💓

kayleighdocherty_ : stunning as usual ❤️

dylanduke25 : didn't Luca get u a closer seat gosh🤬

edwards.73 : when's the next greek life event I want more cookies

Nolan_moyle : #1 puck bunny*

↪ life.of.yn : is that supposed to offend me funny boy 😬😬😬

rutgermcgroarty : @kayleighdocherty_ stunning

markestapa : @life.of.yn clean ur room🫨🫨

urgreeksis : my fav tri delta 💛 💙

seamuscasey26 : pookie🤑🤑

tj_huges13 : mom

kienandraper : mom

user : do u ever not obsess over the hockey boys

↪ life.of.yn : no its my number one hobby

A.N:

Lil shorty w lucca but Im gonna do an Auston one and pray its longer bc I have a similar idea to the one I did w Matthew Knies. anywho love u

xoxoxoxoxo, M

Tags : @lukey-pookie-hughes43 and @skylershines

[mikuni14]

Jack & Joker - Ep 8

I finished the remake of Love Mechanics on Sunday, and a new episode of J&J on Monday - what can I say, watching War's characters not having the best time is a whole experience 💀

Another really good episode of J&J, this show is great, although the first crack in this perfect picture has appeared, which I hope won't go in the direction I predict.

This is of course the introduction of the most infuriating trope in the form of the relationship between Joke and his father (and brother). This is such bullshit. Everything here is wrong and it pisses me off. The gaslighting, that Joke's feelings are invalid and wrong, that he's corrected, told what he 's supposed to feel 😬 The father who is openly cruel and says things that no child should ever hear from their parent. The pathetic attempt to whitewash him by saying that he secretly loves Joke with his stash of soups as a proof, and that he ultimately ate the meal prepared by Joke (ignoring the fact that he did this only and exclusively because he was hungry), after rejecting his peace offering and insulting him again. The Oppan series has shown such a father, who is horrible at the beginning and says horrible things, although in reality he truly loves his children and wants good for them. And what does that father do when he sees that with his intentions alone he will not rebuild the relationship with his children? He apologizes, lets go of his expectations and prejudice, learns how to be a good father, even buys books! And seeing HIS efforts, his children respond to them and to him! Except in J&J it is not even that: Joke's father loves an idealized version of his sons, and the one who fits into this version is always praised and basks in the light of acceptance and parental love, and the one who doesn't fit into this image is an outcast, constantly rejected, mocked and criticized. Loving your child in secret, and rejecting him publicly and to his face is NOT good parenting ffs!! I REALLY don't want to see Joke and his father reconcile, especially if they build their relationship on the conditional love of the father and on Joke's self-sacrifice, trying to fit into his terms.

..............

I'm very happy that first Joke

and then Grandma

said exactly what I think and what irritated me so much about Jack's behavior in the last episode. Jack made the decision himself, without talking to his loved ones, making the decision for them without asking for their consent. It's good that the series addressed this.

I love Joke's pure love, when even in the greatest anger he's able to stop and react to Jack's suffering. I love the scene when Joke is clearly agitated and sees Jack trying to hide the agony he is going through - and suddenly Joke's face changes and he reaches out to Jack… War is such a good actor ✨

Yin is also great. I really like how he shows with his whole body how Jack feels in a given situation. For example, how apathetic he is in scenes when Joke gets mad at him, how his arms hang lifelessly when Joke shakes him or screams at him, how he gives in to Joke's anger.. Also when he is with Rose, how he reacts to her, to physical contact with her, how stiff and reluctant he is, which can be seen for example in the dance scene (although he can also comfort her, which is a natural reflex for him). I like how he hesitates when leaving Joke, following Rose, how he can't help but look at him one last time. Jack also, even when he receives all of Joke's anger, doesn't get angry at him or offended and his protective and caring instincts also take over when Joke is hurt.

And how he embraces Joke WITH ALL OF HIMSELF, melting into him, adjusting to his body. Oh boys... Everyone knows you are together, you even sleep like lovers, who are you fooling 🥺

I also like how you can see that Jack is suffocating with what he has to do, how you can see from him, how he tries at all costs to show that everything is ok, and how it's getting harder and harder for him to act in front of Rose and Joke - that's how I interpreted his stony face during the argument with Joke in the hospital, his sudden silence, because if he let go of his emotions for even a second, he could have let go of all his iron control, on which his sanity now hangs.

The juxtaposition of the cruel games played by the demoralized rich with the kind game played by the grandma was also shown very nicely.

I'm very happy that the episode ended with this scene this time. Very lovely and very natural cuddling, their conversation and behavior very much in their character (very VeeMark too lol). I'm also very happy that we have probably finished the era of the depressed, rejected, abandoned, constantly insulted, jealous, lonely Joke.

(What's with that manhandling Joke's body, Jack? And what about letting him do that Joke? 🤔🤨 not.fooling.anyone.)

(I love them so much.)

[soundwavesuperioraf]

Nemesis/Soundwave TFP

Remember when the Nemesis became sentient in Transformers Prime s2, e12 Tunnel Vision? What if the ship immobilized every bot except Soundwave? Soundwave is always hooked into its systems with his tentacles, with quite the deft and respectful touch, so maybe the ship decides it likes Soundwave. And it realizes it will need at least one bot on board in working condition to keep it running. So...everyone out or frozen! Except Soundwave. You can stay. Soundwave superior. Meanwhile, Megatron, before getting immobilized, is initially extremely offended, but then as his parts start to freeze up, he just ends up shouting to Soundwave to take good care of his ship and to get him back online asap. Then Soundwave finds himself alone with the Nemesis surrounded by frozen Decepticons. And as mean and rude as the Nemesis was to everyone else, to him it's...kind of sweet? 'Soundwave,' the Nemesis purrs instead of threatens, 'please manually recalibrate the seventh external port sensor. It's misaligned and it itches.' Soundwave awkwardly complying so that he doesn't get kicked off the ship or frozen too while thinking hmm this is getting weird. The Nemesis sweet-talking him about how nice it is with just the two of them and having every other Decepticon as quiet now as Soundwave (and his vow of silence). Soundwave: superior, but also Soundwave: 😬 😑 🤔