#while it was interesting for me to experiment with crack

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

ladynoir 12 for the drabble prompts!

Hey Nicole!

So, you did prompt #12 (also yay! my favorite number!), which ended up corresponding to Love Don't Die by The Fray!

I'll admit, it took me a while to figure out what to do with this one, but I ended up taking the angst route lol

This is a PRPR fic, where Chat Noir and Hawkmoth's identities have been revealed to the public (Ladybug is still unknown though)...

anyways... hope you enjoy!

ao3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Instead I'm Never Leaving You

“LADYBUG! LADYBUG! OVER HERE!” The shouting and blaring lights of overzealous reporters threatened to overwhelm her, but she blinked back spots and stood her ground. She reminded herself why she was here. Why was she standing alone with only the bare vestiges of a whisper of his hand in hers, of his warmth radiating next to hers, a stolen moment taken from only moments ago, but feeling like a lifetime past. 

One eager reporter with bright purple hair and a sharp haircut broke from the fold and shoved her microphone underneath Ladybug’s face. 

“Ladybug, what do you have to say about the rumors of your partner being Adrien Agreste?” 

Ladybug pursed her lips and fought against the building headache in her temple. 

“No comment.”

This was not to discourage the enthusiastic reporter, who pushed the microphone even further into Ladybug’s face, its plastic scent was beginning to make her nauseous. 

“And what do you have to say about the allegations of famed fashion designer Gabriel Agreste being Hawkmoth, and about the potential implications of Chat Noir being the son of Hawkmoth?”

Forever on the defense for her partner, this time, Ladybug could not hold herself back from speaking. 

“The identity of Hawkmoth, regardless of who he is, has no effect on Adrien Agreste, who has never done anything to harm Paris, and it certainly has nothing to do with Chat Noir, who has spent every waking moment defending all of Paris, including myself.” Ladybug could feel her face turning a bright red, as her voice rang clear with righteous fury.

For a moment the crowd around her silenced, until a voice in the crowd, to which she could put no face, piped in.

“Ladybug, don’t you think that we’d be better off without Chat Noir? How could you trust your partner, if these are the kinds of people he spends his time with?”

She was going to be sick. 

Surely he had been watching the crowd, surely he knew that they had given voice to the seeds of doubt growing heartily in the back of his mind.

Ladybug looked around helplessly for an exit, then remembered the trusty yo-yo hooked against her side.

“I’m sorry everyone but I have to go.”

With an eager fling, she catapulted herself into the air and made her way to the nearby rooftop that she knew he’d be hiding behind.

It wasn’t fair. With merely a grainy video taken by an invasive fan, which had showcased a side view of what looked to be Adrien’s Agreste’s face, after Chat Noir’s transformation. And had been posted to social media barely two days after the arrest of Hawkmoth suspect #1 Gabriel Agreste, Adrien’s… Chat Noir’s life had been effectively ruined.

She blinked back angry tears for him, knowing that their being spotted would only hurt him more. 

When she caught sight of him, he was facing the opposite direction from where the crowd had been, as though he hadn’t caught the entire thing from his hideaway.

He heard her before he saw her.

“What they’re saying is true, you know.”

“Chaton,” She sighed, her shoulders drooping.

“You would be better off to drop me. I mean, who would blame you? I wouldn’t trust me either.”

The ache that settled in her heart became too much for her. Rather than fight against his untrue words, rather than remind him of how much she cared about him, about how much she needed him, she sat down beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

There they sat, with only traffic and wind to harmonize the silence, until Ladybug felt pressure and tenseness ease from Chat Noir’s shoulders, until his head sloped onto hers.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She said quietly, she took his hand and began to draw circles on his knuckles. 

He shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “It’s okay.”

Ladybug sat up abruptly and turned herself towards Chat Noir. She grabbed his face in her palms to make sure he could see the earnestness on her face.

“It’s not okay. No partner, no person is as kind, as giving, as loyal and– and as goodhearted as you. You don’t deserve this treatment. What your father did was awful, but it’s not in any way a reflection of you. You– you are the opposite of him in every way, and I’m sure if Alya and Nino were here right now, they’d agree with me.” 

Ladybug stroked Chat Noir’s cheekbone in a repetitive motion that managed to catch reluctant tears, haphazardly falling from his weary eyes. 

“I know everything in your life is insane right now, that people are confused and have turned you into something you are not. But know this Chaton. I am never leaving you, and I am not going to turn my back on our partnership. Because I know who you are and I will always love you for it. Minou, we will get through this like we get through everything, together.” 

Chat Noir finally released a shuddered breath and nuzzled his face into her palm. 

“Thank you M’lady.”

“Always Chaton.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Request a lovesquare side and a number from my playlist for a drabble!

[vigilskeep]

[ID: reply from @tianlavellan saying “hey op i hope this isn't annoying please absolutely 100% ignore me if it is but - if you're willing to ramble about neve. make me like her? i'm so sad because i just don't care for her and i wish i diddddd please help me change my mind about her?”]

she’s SUCH a male character archetype, is i think what gets me

in veilguard every companion’s world adapts to the genre that the companion belongs to. dock town is constantly in a detective story, because neve lives there. (or neve is who she is because she lives in a detective story? food for thought.) but she doesn’t play the role women usually do in those stories. by rights she should be a femme fatale or a weeping widow or a dead body. instead, she’s the lead, the emotionally calloused private eye who smokes and can throw a punch, the protector of the people

and she gets to be so many other things that are in my experience usually only for male characters!! people respect her and rely on her without question, nobody surprised that she’s capable. she focuses on work while living off greasy fried food in a lonely apartment, none of which is presented as some kind of embarrassing failure of femininity, just what she’s chosen to value. she’s allowed to be suspicious, to make you work to win her trust, to withhold her forgiveness and supportive spells from you if she chooses, without being painted as a bitch for it. she gets to be the jaded lone wolf of the team! that’s crazy! it would be so easy to play her as an ice queen “strong independent woman” whose confidence never cracks, but instead they get the dry, cynical tone and tight hold on her emotions without denying that she has emotions or making her feel like less of a person who gets to have needs and griefs and worries too. they got a really good balance of how she clearly could use more support than she’s had, without it feeling like she needs a rescue. she can live without you, she just shouldn’t have to

she’s just so cool idk... i think she doesn’t reveal as much as easily as some of the other companions, but that’s why to me it feels so much more earned and interesting when she DOES open up

[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 307,284 others

landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[many-shades-of-violence]

reacting to their s/o being pregnant I Corazon, Doflamingo, Law, Smoker, Sabo, Ace, Kid

Corazon, the gentle and caring soul he is, would notice subtle changes in your behavior and appearance before you even realized you're pregnant.

He'd probably start by making your favorite meal or fetching things you might need without even asking. Not because he knows exactly what's going on, but because his maternal instincts are subconsciously strong.

One day, he returned from work to find you asleep in his feather coat, nestled on your shared bed with a positive pregnancy test on the sideboard. Shocked, he slipped, inadvertently waking you up. As you opened your eyes, you saw the tall giant on his buttocks in front of the bed, all teary-eyed.

He'd approach you with a sweet smile and a gentle touch, hugging you in a warm embrace and assuring you that he's there for you no matter what.

"Mi amor, you've given me the greatest gift of all. I promise to be by your side every step of this journey, just as you've been by mine."

Doflamingo's reaction might be a bit unexpected. He's not known for his compassion, but the news would still surprise him since he's always keen on protection.

He'd likely raise an eyebrow and give a smirk at the news, questioning you with his signature teasing tone, "Well, well, how unexpected. Don't tell me you forgot your pill on purpose."

Despite his initial demeanor, he'd keep a close eye on you, ensuring your comfort and well-being, even if he doesn't openly express it. Despite trusting Diamante and Trebol with his life, he would keep them at an arm's length away from you.

His soft side might manifest through subtle actions like providing comfort during late-night cravings, secretly getting things you wish for, or wrapping you in his pink feather coat.

"Well, well, well, it seems life has thrown us an interesting curveball. Don't think I'm going soft now, but I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to the future ruler of Dressrosa."

Law, with his cool and collected exterior, might take a moment to process the news before his emotions catch up. He had already guessed what was up from your antsy behavior and Bepo telling him about your frequent late-night kitchen visits, but reality hit differently.

He'd likely pause, his gaze softening as he looks at you nervously biting your lip, almost certain he would react with disdain. Instead, a small, genuine smile would grace his lips, before he placed his hat on your head and embraced you in a warm hug, reassuring you of his stance.

Not much phased by obstetrics, he would start researching everything about pregnancy and childbirth, wanting to be as informed as possible to support you. Naturally, he would deliver the baby himself, his Room providing a secure and painless environment for you. He's too protective to let anyone else handle it.

While he might not show it outwardly, he'd be incredibly protective and make sure your needs are met, especially health-wise. Regular check-ups are a must, and if Shachi and Penguin annoy you, they can be sure to experience some rearranged limbs.

"You're amazing, you know that? I'm not sure I'm quite fit to be a father, but if we're going to navigate this together, I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you and the baby are safe and healthy. We've got this."

Smoker would show a mix of surprise and concern upon hearing the news, his gruff exterior cracking just a bit.

He´d ask questions related to your health, ensuring that you're taking proper care of yourselves. He'd be on high alert, especially since he tends to smoke heavily.

As time goes on, he'd soften around the edges, finding himself more attentive and willing to offer help and assistance, even quitting smoking around you.

He might not express his emotions openly, but his actions would speak volumes, like quietly making sure you don't overexert yourselves or subtly rearranging your environment for safety.

"I never planned for something like this, but just know I've got your back. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."

Sabo's reaction would likely be a mix of joy and a hint of nervousness, as he'd want to ensure the best for you and the baby.

He'd start leaving cute notes or small gifts for you, showing his excitement in his own sweet way.

Sabo would take on the role of an unofficial cheerleader, always ready to provide you encouragement and reassurance.

He'd also engage in deep conversations with you about your future as parents and what you envision for your family. Luffy, Ace, and Koala would often visit and assist you with whatever you need.

"I can't even express how happy and blessed I feel right now. You and our baby mean everything to me. Let's face this adventure together, with all the love and support we need."

Ace would be the embodiment of enthusiasm and excitement, immediately hugging you and spinning you around in a joyful embrace.

He'd become even more attentive than usual, constantly checking in on you and asking if you need anything.

Given his troubled childhood and strained relationship with his own dad, he might face phases of doubt. However, if you have his back as much as he does during his enthusiastic phases, you'll quickly pull him out of it.

You can bet he'd be doing research on how to be the best dad, and he'd share interesting and quirky facts he found on the internet.

He'd proudly proclaim the news to Luffy, Ace, and Garp, and he'd be the one organizing a surprise baby shower with Marco's help.

"I still can't believe all of this. We're going to be parents! I promise to make our family life full of love and appreciation. Just trust me on this."

Kid's reaction might be a mix of surprise and a bit of concern about how this new development might affect his life plans.

However, as time goes on, he'd find himself growing more attached to the idea of becoming a parent.

He'd be the one to plan practical things like ensuring the home is baby-proofed and preparing for the baby's arrival in a pragmatic way.

Slowly, his tough exterior would soften, and he'd become more openly supportive and affectionate towards you, showing that he's fully invested in this new chapter of your lives.

"Honestly, I didn't see that coming, but I'm not one to shy away from challenges. We're in this together, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are safe. You can count on me."

[msschemmenti]

monday morning guest

emily prentiss x reader

summary: emily gets a surprise visitor in the bullpen on monday morning.

a/n: crack idea i got driving past my neighbors house.

monday morning— bright and early. the bau team was finally back from a two week stent of back to back cases and emily was finally starting to settle into her role as unit chief. she was no hotch, but she was relying pretty heavily on her interpol experience and the bond the team had built over the years. with such a close knit team, it was always very easy to spot new comers in the office.

so when a woman breezed through the glass doors of the bullpen, emily wasn’t surprised to catch garcia’s bright pink cardigan hurrying after her to intercept the mystery woman. what she was surprised to see was a face she knew all too well.

y/n y/ln. in dc. in her bullpen? what alternate universe could she possibly have walked into this morning. she turned hastily to the mirror she kept in her office and started fluffing her hair quickly. she hadn’t seen y/n since her college graduation and it’s safe to say she looks very different now. not bad per say but older. feeling satisfied with her hair she rifled through her purse for some lipstick and anything to make her not look like it was monday morning.

down in the bullpen, y/n smiled at the brightly colored woman she’d just been stopped by. she scanned the bullpen over her shoulder hoping to catch sight of emily. after hearing the older woman had returned [allegedly from the dead], she hoped on the opportunity to pay her a visit while she was in town.

“good morning beautiful stranger. welcome to the bau, my name is penelope. can i help you with something?” the woman bounced in anticipation.

“hello, penelope. i’m actually looking for someone. your new unit chief actually.” y/n spoke as she shuffled the folder in her hand to shake penelope’s hand.

“emily? emily prentiss? do you have a crime case you’d like assistance on?” garcia asked.

“yes and no. she and i have some business to take care of, now that she’s returned stateside.” y/n smiled waving the folder in front of garcia.

“oh? business to take care of…” garcia repeated sweeping her eyes from the woman in front of her and emily’s office.

“mmhm. do you think she’s available for a little chat?” y/n asked nodding in amusement at the quirky woman.

“well i would think so— who should i say is here?”

“oh where are my manners, i’m y/n. she should remember me.” y/n smiled as garcia nodded her understanding before heading up the stairs to emily’s office.

“ma’am,” garcia spoke knocking on the open door of emily’s office.

“please stop calling me ma’am.” emily sighed wearily.

“sorry, im just nervous. there’s a really pretty woman down there saying she’s here to see you. and that you’ve got official business to take care of. well i don’t think she said official but she definitely said business. and she waved a folder in front of me. are you being sued or something?” garcia rambled.

emily eyed the tech analyst as she rambled and as she took a breath she held her hand up to stop her before she could start again. “y/n y/ln, right?”

“y/n— yes. i don’t know her last name but she said you should remember her. do you want me to go get her?”

“no, no. i’ll come down myself.” emily rose from the desk, giving herself another once over in the mirror before moving toward garcia and the door.

“wait, what was that?” garcia asked curiously.

“what— what was what? what are you talking about?” emily asked obliviously.

“did you just check yourself out? are you primping yourself? did you reapply your lipstick? oh this just got so much more interesting. who is this woman?” garcia jumped.

“i-what no to all of that,” emily lied as her cheeks heated. “and she’s just a friend from my college days.”

“yeah but what kind of friend? i don’t primp in my office when my college friends come to see me.”

emily peeked around the door frame into the bullpen and caught sight of y/n looking right back at her. the woman sent a flirty wave up toward the office and laughed softly as she watched emily’s cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“not now garcia.” emily mumbled as she straightened her clothes out one more time before descending the stairs to meet y/n. “y/n, what a surprise. what’s it been 10 years?”

“far more than that, em. you look good.” y/n smirked.

“wow, obviously not as good as you. garcia said you came on business?” emily replied trying and failing to tame the blush she’d been sporting since she headed down to the bullpen.

“well yes. and may i just say, you are one hard woman to track down.” y/n shook her head with a laugh.

“oh don’t i know it!” garcia piped in from her placed leaned against jj’s desk. at the intrusion, emily sent a glare her way. penelope grimaced and turned to face jj in fear.

��you’ve been looking for me?” emily asked curiously.

“i have for quite a while actually,” y/n smiled softly before waving the folder in emily’s direction. “we’re still married. and have been for about 20 years now. and let me just say, you’ve got a hell of a lot of anniversary gifts to make up for babe.”

“married?!” garcia exclaimed before slapping her hand over her mouth.

emily’s eyes widened exponentially as she caught all of the team’s eyes on her. the shock was evident on everyone’s face and she honestly couldn’t wash it off her own face.

“how about we go to my office and talk about this?” emily recovered, grabbing the folder and nodding toward the office upstairs.

“of course.” y/n nodded and followed emily into the office.

emily pointedly closed the door on prying eyes and turned to face y/n, “now that you’ve successfully fueled the office gossip fire for at least the next month. married for 20 years? is this about the netherlands? didn’t we get that annulled after we got back?”

“i thought so too. until i was a few weeks out from my wedding and they let us know that i was still in fact married according to netherlandian law.” y/n shrugged collapsing onto the couch.

“well i don’t think they call it netherlandian law,” emily paused catching the first part of what y/n said. “oh! you’re engaged. and i’m keeping you from getting married. i can try to get garcia to pull some strings online to help get the divorce finalized faster. or i can call someone over at interpol, im sure they can do something.”

y/n chuckled affectionately, “well while i appreciate the fact that you’d abuse your access to government resources for my sake. that ship has long sailed. the fact i was still married was the least of our problems. but i found that out and tried to track you down and that’s when your mother, still as lovely as i remember, let me know you had died.” y/n deadpanned, leveling emily with a look she knew very well.

“yeah, that was a whole thing.” emily grimaced.

“uh huh, im sure it was. after that, i just went with the whole widowed thing for a bit. until i heard again from your mother, so lovely, that you were alive again.”

“i didn’t realize you and my mother spoke so frequently.” emily mumbled taking a seat on the couch as well.

“you just keep giving us reasons to gab. anyways, i was in the states and figured id try to catch you after all these years. i brought the papers and figured you could sign them.”

“of course. i wouldn’t want to keep you from another marriage.” emily nodded hastily grabbing a pen to sign off.

“ah i figured you’d have run into the issue before me.”

emily dotted her and slid the folder back to y/n, “no, no one worth marrying. well besides you apparently.”

y/n smiled and giggled, “had i been aware, i would’ve been a far better wife to you but at least i didn’t widow you.”

“oh come on! what do you want me to say? had i known we were still married, i wouldn’t have died?” emily laugh incredulously.

“you had a wife to come home to, it could’ve been motivation.”

emily’s smile was free and contagious, “god you haven’t changed a bit.”

“not much sweet, but i can tell you have. lot of responsibility you got here agent.” y/n smiled sadly. “i hope you’re taking care of yourself. and your team.” there was a beat of admiration that washed over y/n’s face before she sighed and gathered the papers. “listen i’ll get out of your hair. thanks for divorcing me. always a pleasure seeing you.” y/n stood from the couch, emily following.

“of course, are you headed back right away?” emily asked hopefully.

“no i’m in the states for a bit for work, why?” y/n asked.

“oh i was just curious. figured maybe i could make up for this 20 anniversary dinners i missed.”

y/n grinned, “agent prentiss, are you asking me on a date?”

“i think i might be asking you on at least 20, if you want to of course.”

y/n walked over to emily’s desk and grabbed a pen and sticky note. scribbling something down and tucked the post it in emily’s blazer pocket with a smirk. “you better get planning then.” y/n threw a wink over her shoulder and left the office with a smile. all the agents scattered to make it seem like they weren’t intently trying to figure out what was going on behind the closed door. y/n stopped at garcia and smiled sweetly, “thank you penelope. have a good day everyone.”

everyone mumbled their replies and watched as emily’s alleged wife exit the bullpen. as soon as the elevators closed they all hurried up the stairs to emily’s open door.

“you’re married?!” garcia was the first to exclaim and emily sighed in exasperation. she eyed her chosen family and knew she wasn’t getting out of answering this. at all.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku falling in love with you at first sight.

They're out on a mission, several demons sighted at a village and the number was so high they needed multiple people to come and fix the problem. Of course, it was a cake walk for the two of them. Their weapons flashing under the moonlight as it cut through the necks of their enemies like butter, demon after demon falling to their blade.

Despite the task being easy, it still took a few hours so by the time the job was done, they were a bit tuckered out. Every demon was slain- or so they thought.

A demon burst from the rubble, it's sharp claws aiming for Rengoku's face. It was too fast, neither of the Hashira able to react in time as the demon was but a centimeter away from clawing Rengoku's eyes out when you showed up.

Using your breath of Thunder, you cracked through the air like a lightning strike, covering ground within seconds as you managed to cut off the demon's arm before cutting its head off, saving your senior of any injury.

You put away your weapon as the demon disintegrated in front of you, bowing down respectfully to the two pillars, a ranking you hoped to reach one day. They recognized you, having seen you out and about before but this was the first time they'd seen you in action.

Both of their hearts skipped a beat. Beautiful, talented and powerful woman was a plenty within the demon slayer corporation but there was something about you that was just...different. Perhaps it was your kind heart in helping the wounded. Perhaps it was the confidence you carried yourself with. Perhaps it was because you were just too darn cute. But whatever the reason may be, they were enamored by you and couldn't keep their eyes off of you.

Once you helped the others in cleaning up and getting the wounded the help they need, you went back to the two Hashira who were strangely dazed.

"I shall get going now." you reported with a bow, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Marry me." both of them said simultaneously.

"...huh?"

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku roping you into sexual escapades as a form of 'training'

You had rejected their marriage proposal, stating that while you respected them, you didn't know them personally and didn't want a husband(s) that you weren't fond of.

They were respectful of that, stating that a great way to get to know each other would be through training. You thought it was unbelievable that two Hashira's were interested enough in you to take time of their schedules to train with you, much less want to marry you, but you decided to agree. Learning from the best would be an invaluable experience, afterall.

"I-I- thought you said we were gonna t-train!" You squealed, tossing your head back against the pillow as Uzui slid a second finger inside you, your pussy gushing around him.

You could barely recollect how you got here, a room in an inn, at the mercy of your two seniors. Your mind was a jumbled mess as their hands and lips attacked your body, hungry kisses against your neck while stripping you of your uniform. Time seemed to go by fast yet slow at the same time, eventually ending up on a bed with Rengoku sucking your breasts while Uzui made himself familiar with your pussy.

"It is training." the sound Hashira said with a smirk, curling his fingers inside you just right, making you gasp. He stuffed his fingers of his other hand into your mouth, making you choke.

"This is to help your technique." he said, "Control yourself and focus on your breathing."

As he said that, Rengoku's lips left your nipple, leaving it a saliva covered stiff bud before moving down and taking your clit into his mouth, making you scream around Uzui's fingers. Your body shook from the pleasure, never having experienced this before.

You knew their claim that this was for training was complete bullshit but dammit- you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Uzui was so deliciously huge compared to you. He was twice your size, his muscular body enveloping you completely as he toyed with your body with ease. His bulging muscles and washboard abs made you drool, your eyes wandering to his nether regions, pussy growing wetter when you saw a big bulge straining against his pants.

Rengoku ran hot, literally. His touch made you shiver as he ran his warm hands over your body, a comforting contrast to the way his hot tongue was assaulting your clit. He sucked on it like a candy, flicking it around before giving it a gentle nibble, making you squeal. With a physique just as impressive as Uzui's, his bright eyes filled with passion and desire made you feel dizzy.

"Focus." Uzui said with a click of his tongue, pushing his fingers further down your throat, making you gag, "you're getting distracted."

'I can't help it!' You tried to defend, but what came out was a bunch of gurgles and gags, unable to say anything.

"If you can't handle this," Rengoku said, giving your clit a sweet kiss before he straightened himself up, "what will you do if a demon attacks you and tries to choke you?"

"Exactly~" Uzui cooed, starting to move his fingers in and out of your throat, a slower rhythm from what he was doing to your cunt, "Bring your breathing under control and maybe, we'll let you cum~"

[andraxicated]

No Hard Feelings

Pairing: zayne x f! reader

tags: nsfw | mutual pining? | virgins in love | 69 | protected p in v | big dick zayne (cause he was my man before sylus and we love virgins who hide big packages) | small angst |

a/n: sitting pretty on my drafts since february. i love writing in this format it just lets your ideas flow | zayne is a harvard med alumni free from student debt cause he's rich and we all know it

inspired by one of my fav rom coms no hard feelings i swear its so funny

you are nothing but a broke college student looking for ways to make extra money. so what can you do when your friend shows you a totally suspicious ad?

"we are looking for a girl with experience to seduce our son and help him have a social life. preferably pretty. will be handsomely compensated"

you grab the opportunity after much thought and show up in the sluttiest dress to make sure you fit the 'girl with experience' part despite your v-card being intact.

and you never thought that you'd be sitting in a mansion's living room, listening to a rich mother yap about her worries for her beloved and only son's social life

"you see... it's because i'm deeply worried about our son! we are very proud he's doing well before going to medical school but it's summer and all his peers are going out on vacations, dating, and partying, but he doesn't seem to be interested in any of those since his time at university!"

let's say when you asked what he looked like and turned around to see a picture frame, you were instantly sold onto this 'fuck their son' plan

his parents said their beloved Zayne volunteers at the public park to tend to the flowers. he works under the hot son with his stoic face and meaty arms to which you space out a little.

imagine his surprise when his view got shadowed by your figure, looking up to see the expanse of your thighs, your boobs supported by a push-up bra. this was your best attempt at looking like a vixen

"heyyyy, can I touch your buds?" you giggle (cringing inwardly) and the rest is history.

Zayne didn't know what to fucking say but glare at you.

it was hard to get close to Zayne because that man was a brick wall. he was so reserved and quiet, always so serious despite your attempts at fun time. yet with every time you spent together, his walls break down bit by bit.

and when you saw a crack in his walls, you unknowingly tore it down along with yours.

because you are unexpectedly falling in love with him.

"I thought this was movie night" Both of you remove your tops amidst giggles and short kisses.

"Mhmm, you smell like Jasmines." Zayne pretends not to hear you as he rasps against your ear, kissing your neck as his fingers drag down to tug at your shorts and panty. You whine when he successfully removes it, cold air hitting your inner thighs as he shushes you through small, wet kisses.

"That perfume was on sale, I knew I had to buy it for you" You smile and Zayne mirrors it on his lips, making your heart skip out of your chest. He caresses your hips softly, dangerously inching closer to your core where you're positively throbbing.

"You know me so well. It's as if you were sent by someone for me."

You chuckle awkwardly, letting him trail down light kisses on your neck, all the way to your collarbones. His statement slaps you back to reality. That you were just a girl taking advantage of him and his parents' money. But with each kiss that matches with the beat of your heart, you feel that this acting of yours turned a little too real. You just wanted him between your thighs, lost in your body, drunk on your kisses, and never have him find out the truth.

Zayne looks up at you from an angle, wanting to ask for permission to dive in your pussy, but then he sees you spacing out, and it’s not the cockdrunk look he sees on porn videos. You looked sad and miserable while staring into nothing, he fears he might have bored you to death and he’s too much of a virgin to satisfy you. Zayne looked scared to snap you out of it, he lightly nudged your thigh, and your gaze finally shifted to him. You still haven’t gotten rid of that look yet. 

“Sorry, let’s not do this today if you aren’t feeling well” zayne speaks softly while sitting up, the care evident in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms. 

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “I’m sorry I killed the mood. Are you still hard?” 

“What?”

“I mean, is your dick hard?”

Zayne looks down for a moment and replies, “Yeah…I’m hard”

You giggle and reach over to give him a peck. “Let me suck you off. You’ll feel good, I promise” You say as if you sucked dick before. You were quite nervous to put something in your mouth for the first time, fearing for your throat and untrained gag reflex. Also, Zayne looks pretty big from the way he’s tenting from his shorts, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Your heart was beating from your chest as Zayne sat with his legs on both sides of your body, presenting you with his aching bulge. You tug down his shorts along with his underwear and you see his big cock that he’s been hiding all along. Zayne flushes red on his ears and neck as you stare at his size in awe. The tip was angry and leaking, twitching occasionally as the man before you winced. Its girth was impressively thicker than your wrist and length longer than what you’ve seen in videos, this guy was above average. But before you could try to touch him, Zayne coughs up to get your attention. 

You question him in your eyes and he blushes, struggling to get his words out. 

“I-I want to make you feel good too. Can we try that position?” 

“What position?” 

“...69” 

Zayne bites his lip, looking at your face for any sort of disgust but none came. A smile broke out on your face before you nodded, taking the initiative to adjust your positions accordingly. Zayne was taller than you so you had to be the one on top, your body tensing as you face his leaking cock staring at you. You wanted to put your mouth on it so bad but you knew you had to wait for Zayne to adjust at your bottom. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Zayne huffs out and you involuntarily clench, feeling his hot breath around your hole. You can’t help the heat that travels to your cheeks as you recognize yourself putting your ass up in the air for a man to gape at your hole. You could feel every bone in your body praying not to fuck this up.

“I’ll start,” You say, biting your lip and squinting your eyes before hurriedly starting the job. Your lips come into contact with the tip and Zayne moans, throwing his head back as you try to engulf him in your mouth. He feels you testing how your mouth glides up and down thanks to your saliva as lubricant. Zayne thinks he could burst right then and there in your mouth but he tries to at least save himself some dignity by not finishing through a 20-second blowjob. 

He leans forward and settles his palms on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh experimentally, making you moan at his touches. His lips press outside your pussy, shying away from the main course before steeling himself with the courage of a man. 

Choked moans left your mouth as Zayne suddenly parts your ass for a clear view and dives right in to fuck your hole with his tongue. He laps up like a man starved with eyes closed, executing toe-curling techniques that you didn’t know he could do. 

“Nghh! Mmhphh!” You’re drooling on his dick, taking what you can of his size and pumping what you couldn’t reach. He’s too much of a big fit in your mouth, struggling to hollow your cheeks since most of your wet cavern is occupied by his cock. You could only bob your head up and down, moaning to get him feeling some vibrations, and rubbing your pussy along his lips. 

On the other end, Zayne was having a very much-awaited make-out session with your cunt. He sloppily kisses your hole, circling his tongue as he tastes the softness of the flesh. His hands rubbing your ass in gentle motions causes you to clench and he groans, chasing the movement of your cunt. He does it like the boys do in those videos, he closes his eyes and imagines he’s doing a good job just like them, making their girl scream like it's the end of the world. 

“So pretty” he pulls away mesmerized by your glistening cunt. Zayne couldn’t help but be addicted to your pussy, and he gives it more attention by sucking and playing around with his tongue. To hear your muffled cries sends vibrations down his spine, making him even more hard as your eyes widen. 

You gasp for air as you fix your breathing. You wanted to complain about why he was getting bigger but you just couldn’t stop yourself from sinking deeper onto his cock. You’re positive you looked like a cockhungry slut with dick in her mouth, wiggling her ass as her man eats her out because that’s exactly what you’re doing, you could picture how dirty the position was and it makes you throb, edging you to your release.

No one was saying anything, too occupied with the job at hand as wet noises filled the room. Both of you were pushing each other at the brink of release. Zayne lightly thrusts to chase the feeling of a wet heat—challenging your gag reflex, not knowing it's your first time giving a blowjob. He suddenly hits the back of your throat as cum floods inside your mouth. You’re breathing through your nose, too full of erotic sensations, and you cum following his release. Wet spurts land on Zayne’s face as he drinks up your release, relishing in his first time making a girl cum. 

You pull away from his dick, white semen landing on the bed from your mouth and Zayne’s eyes widen seeing you keeping his release inside your mouth. He thinks you probably didn’t want to swallow it so he grabs tissues, and places them below your chin. 

“Spit it out” 

You look at the tissue on his hand and swallow the cum, wincing as the taste hits you. You just wanted to do it like others do, swallowing because you worked hard for it. Zayne was flabbergasted to even move, his flaccid member unapologetically rising hard when he saw you swallow his seed. 

It made him want to put it inside you. 

“Why did you swallow?” 

You wipe the excess off your face, “I just wanted to try” You hoped he didn’t catch on that it was your first time. Both of you were tired but you wanted to keep going, driven by lust. Zayne was trying to hide his erection and you decided to just get on with it, you wanted him inside right now.

“Zayne, do you want to be on top?” Your question left him surprised. He blinks for a few seconds before nodding and positioning on top of you as you lay down. Then it hits you.

“Wait, do you have a condom?” 

He visibly freezes before reaching over to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer, grabbing a condom, and opening the package. While he puts it on, your eyes drift to the package and you notice the XL size and the ‘super ultra-thin’ inscription. You couldn’t help but be a little nervous after reading that. 

“It’s on,” he says awkwardly, the tip of his ears reddening by the minute. At this moment, the air was thick with nervousness radiating from you and Zayne. You exchange eye contact with him as his palm rests on your hip, drawing circles to coax you and relax your walls. 

“I’m ready, are you?” 

“Yeah,” he kisses your lip to distract you from the pain of your cunt breached open by his thick cockhead. You wince in discomfort, legs shaking as the thickness stops moving. Zayne panics over your pained expression, whispering sweet nothings that it will pass soon because fuck, you are incredibly tight and wet. He almost moans at the sight of your hole struggling to take all of him. 

You look down and let your head fall back onto his soft pillow. “Move”, you let out breathlessly. 

“I’m too big for you, you need to adjust”

“Zayne, just move! Let me adjust when you’re inside me” You whine, wanting to have him inside you as soon as possible. Zayne complies and pushes in slowly, all his worries about med school and sex are completely gone when he buries himself to the hilt. You moan in unison, the stretch being painfully good for your first time.

It was the kind of pain that you’d willingly take because the pleasure was too much to lose out on. He stretches you out nicely, feeling every vein inside you, especially the tip that kisses your g spot. How did he find it in one go?

“You're so tight!—Shit” Zayne picks up on his space, letting his dick rub inside you before starting to thrust full-on. His hips smoothly roll as he pistons his cock in and out of your hole. Your wetness and the condom's lubricant make him move easily inside.

“Ohhh! Zayne!” You jolt towards the headboard as his grunts fill the room, his cockhead repeatedly locking in on your sweet spot, making you clench in response. His hair falls over his face, masquerading on his eyes as his hips put in the work for your pussy. He looks so pretty like that, flushed red, breathless, as he stuffs you repeatedly with his cock.

“Ahhhh, so big~” You could only moan and clench around his member, the movements making your boobs jiggle, and Zayne couldn't help but grope one of them—giving attention to the other by going down on his mouth. You just looked so pretty under him, so messy and good at taking his cock.

“My pretty girl” he huffs while bucking his hips into you.

Then he remembers that you probably had sex before him, and you have experienced other guys. And something deep within him tears its ugly head. Zayne suddenly had a primal urge to claim you, to make sure from now on, you're showing this lewd face to him and only him. 

He was jealous and it wasn't a good feeling.

He pounds his cock faster, pouring all the anger he has into vigor. You scratch his back as Zayne goes feral at a fast pace fucking his cock back into your hole. You thrash in his arms from the pleasure, wanting to run away because the dick was too good. But his strong arms cage you in place as he ruts like an animal in heat. 

His hand suddenly flicks on your clit, pinching the bud to edge you closer to your orgasm. He wanted to make you finish first, to feel your cum coating his length before he releases. 

Your nerves were set on fire just as you think your brain is fried from too much dick. You wanted nothing but to cum and release the knot forming on your lower abdomen. He pumps exactly at a target in a frenzied state, balls swinging against your skin. Zayne continued to grunt, letting out the manliest sounds you've ever heard.

“Z-zayne I'm Cumming—Hahhh!!!” You scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt spasming and dripping around his girth, body shivering from how hard it was. You feel like floating on cloud nine as Zayne leans down to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. 

“That's a good girl. Now take this.” 

His pace gradually falters and he slides in one last powerful thrust before exploding his cum and flooding the condom. You cried out as he did small jerks of his hips to ride out his high while cumming buckets. You fear some cum may have slipped out but you didn't care to voice it out.

Zayne learned that it wasn't good to make you oversensitive so as soon as he finished, he took out his softening cock and watched your abused cunt close. He thinks It might have been his favorite sight.

The night ends with you receiving aftercare, drinking water, and cleaning up in the bathroom to make yourselves clean for bed. You didn't even know Zayne changed the sheets, which explains why he left the tub faster. 

But as you lay in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, there wasn't any semblance of reprieve because of your anxiousness about the arrangement. 

Sooner or later he would find out and everything would come crashing down. You'd go back to your own life, paying expenses thanks to the money you received while Zayne would also go on and continue to med school, fuck a few girls since he already had a taste with a girl who duped him for money. 

Just thinking about that brings tears to your eyes. No, you don't wanna be separated from Zayne. You wanted whatever you had with him despite having no label. 

You tried to tell him the truth a few times but fear got the better of you and you find yourself backtracking, saying something else, and laughing it off. Every moment was precious with Zayne, you couldn't cut his smiles short—it would break your heart to wipe off the soft love on his face. 

So you did nothing but let time run its course.

Zayne soon expressed his want for you to meet his family. He feels like he's known you for a lifetime despite meeting just that summer. So you took his offer and had lunch with his parents who tried their best to act as if they first saw you that day. The food was delicious yet the whole dining experience was painful. You and his parents lying to his face made you unable to stomach the food very well. So you left the house and went to their garden, gazing at the flowers that you knew Zayne himself planted. 

He was looking around for you, sighing since you didn’t tell him where you ran off. He was about to ask his parents in the dining room when he accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Well that was awkward, can you believe our son actually fell in love with her? I mean, she’s pretty skilled”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when we hired her. I think we need to end this arrangement soon. I’ll give her the money before this situation blows up.”

He couldn’t fucking believe it. 

Skilled? Hired? Money? It didn’t take an intelligent man to connect the dots as the conversation went on. Every word that came out of their mouth froze his heart and shattered it like glass. Anger, hurt, and confusion overwhelmed him for the first time in his life. He found it hard to stabilize his breathing. He couldn’t help but let hatred cover his eyes as he stormed into the dining room.  

“Is what you’re saying true? You hired a girl to seduce me?” he demanded, voice shaking with emotion as his parents looked very much terrified to see him there. He didn’t want to believe it was true, but as the seconds went by it was all becoming clear that this was a big fat farce all along. Zayne didn’t know what hurt but he knew he’d been played by the people he loved. And that was all it took for him to break his promise of never raising his voice at his parents. 

“Is it true?!” he roared and to see his mother flinch hurt him but at that moment, Zayne was the victim. 

“Zayne, darling let me explain—��  

“Why?” 

His mother breathed out. “We thought it would be good for you. We wanted to let you have some fun since I feel like you’re constantly buried in books! You need to take some time to socialize too!”

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose as he steeled his mouth in case he said something he could not go back on.

“This conversation isn’t over yet” he uttered coldly, leaving his parents guiltily mulling over their actions.  

Overcome by the need to confront you, he walks in long strides to the garden. He honestly does not know what he wants to hear from you. Apologies? Explanation? He doesn’t know but his feet take him to you and destroy your peaceful moment. 

He sees your figure basking in rays of afternoon sun, checking on the flowers he planted. He stops and stares before storming and grabbing your wrist to make you face him. You meet his face in shock, body tensing from the dangerous aura he was emitting. His hazel eyes were swirling with hurt and you knew it was that time. Zayne knew how much you were playing him like a fool. 

“Is it true?" he pants “That my parents hired you to seduce me for the summer? So that I could get with a girl and have some fun?” 

Tears flowed from your eyes as you nodded shakily, accepting your fate. He was disgusted by how easily you admitted it. Was it that easy for you?  

“I want to hear it from you. Speak before I kick you out” he spat out with so much venom that it wrecked sobs from you. Zayne hated hearing you cry just as he hated how this was such a cruel game you played. 

“Zayne, it was all real. I swear! My feelings are real. It’s true that I accepted a deal with your parents for money but you have to know that I needed it!” You feel like ripping your hair out just to make him believe you. You were so desperate to not be a villain in his eyes. “And what I feel for you is real! I love you and I’m so sorry that I did this to you.” You sobbed, holding your face in your hands as you wiped the overflowing tears that clouded your vision. 

You took a step forward and he took a step back, reflecting the hurt in your eyes. 

“How do I believe you now? How do I know this is still not an act?” 

“I don’t know…” You shook your head, mind at a loss for words. “I just know that it would kill me to be separated from you.”

Zayne could hear the desperation in your voice and it was constantly stabbing at his heart. He longed to believe and touch you, but the pain of deception stung deep. 

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Who are you? Do you have any other name?”

You whip your head in shock, shaking your head frantically. “No! (y/n) is my real name! Everything I told you is real!” 

He stood frozen so you took your chance to explain, fighting the cries that shook your body. 

“I love you. I-I wanted to give my body to the guy I love and it’s you. It was my first time having sex with you! I’m not some vixen who sleeps around. I’m just me!—a college student in need of money. Believe me, I beg you.”

It honestly didn’t matter to him if the girl he loved had his first time with him or not, he loved her regardless. But when you say it like that, he knew that trusting him with your virginity must have meant a great deal to you. That almost made him want to hug you but the rational part of his mind begged him to have some dignity. 

“You broke my trust” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much pain I’m feeling. But I love you…and it would kill me if you weren’t around.”

You take a step forward and grasp his hand to place on top of your heart, making him feel how much it beats for him. 

He’s entranced to feel your racing heart, a testament to your love. This gesture was enough to repair a piece of his shattered heart. 

He uses your interlocked hands to pull you into his arms, burying your face on his chest. You snuggled close as warm tears fell slowly on your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna leave” you cried softly. 

“You’re not leaving until you make me trust you again. And if I trust you again, I won’t let you leave.” 

You nod and ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Zayne cleared his thoughts even if his emotions were a mess. But he was an intelligent and rational man, he was able to think clearly in times of distress and he knew what needed to be done. He knows how you’ll pay for your sins. 

“From now on, I want you to be honest with me. No lies or secrets between us. Tell me everything you feel because I want your full transparency.”   

It was a light sentence and you were eternally grateful to the forgiveness he showed you. Because you'd die if he didn’t.   

“I will. So let’s start on a clean slate please.” you grip his shirt, signaling him your desperation. “I’ll be that girl you met in the park. And you have to believe me when I say I loved you every step of the way. I-I won’t even take the money if it means proving my feelings are real.”

Zayne shook his head as he caressed your hair. ‘Take the money and promise me you won’t leave me. Don’t put yourself in a situation like this just for some money. If you need some, then ask me.”

“What?”

“If you need support I’ll be there to help you in any way I can. All I ask is for you to do the same for me.” 

“Of course I will!” Your voice came out louder than intended and he smiled, yet not like he used to.  

“But you’ll move to Harvard soon for med school? How-how are we going to do this?”

Zayne’s face fell at the mention of his move at the end of his vacation. He hadn’t forgotten but it was a reminder that summer was nearing its end. He had to settle all affairs before treading on a new chapter in his life. 

He sighed, arms still around you. “Long distance isn’t easy, and I don’t know how we’ll do it.” 

Fear crept into you like a snake dampening your mood.    

“But,” he continued with a promising tone. “I’m not giving up on us. I won’t let a little distance come between us. We’ll make it work.”

‘We’ll make it” 

“We will” 

He whispers in your ears, kissing the top of your head, and bathing himself with the love that he receives from you. 

You feared a second chance wouldn’t last long but if anything were the testament to your unbreakable bond with Dr. Zayne, it would be the family photo with you and the kids, standing nicely on his office desk. 

[icebearpopsicle]

⁠✧Baby Steps⁠✧

(Shouta Aizawa X G.N. Reader)

Warnings: Aizawa is 38 here, age gap (like it's 13 years), smut part is shitty and kinda rushed, excessive use of the word "as" because i literally cannot write, gentle dom, aizawa is kinda overbearing, dub con(?) jus towards the end though,

Word count: 2.3k+ words

Author's note: this is shitty but i hope you enjoy it ♡ ♡/ aizawa is out of character/ smut is bad cuz i am even worse at that sorry ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ/

You stretched your back, hands clasped behind your head, hearing the faint sound of your spine cracking against the support of your chair. It has been hours since you started scrolling, looking for a job, your palm sweaty from holding the mouse. A click here, a click there, and a scroll downwards, then upwards again. You had recently moved here after graduation, and while you were managing well initially, the high cost of your apartment and day-to-day expenses had become too much to sustain without a source of income.

You scrolled further down when the computer screen displayed some words that caught your interest:

Name: Shouta Aizawa

Age: 38

Requirement(s): Babysitter

Requirement Information: 2 kids

Salary: To be negotiated later on

Contact details: aizawashouta@gmail.com / XXXXX-XXXXX

Posted 1 hour ago

Okay, yeah, that was pretty brief, but the timing gave you hope that you might just get the job, so you clicked on his phone number and started typing away on your keyboard.

"Hello, I saw your post about wanting a babysitter and I was wondering if the spot was still free?"

You hit the send button and got up from your seat for the first time in hours for a small break. After about 20 minutes, you checked for a response and opened the chat again.

"Yes, it is. If you're interested, please come tomorrow at 8 am if you're available," followed by a link to his location.

A smile claimed your lips at the excitement of finally landing a job after so many tries.

When you saw his age, you definitely didn't expect him to be this... hot? Which father of two kids is this hot?

"Good morning. I believe you contacted me yesterday evening, yeah?" His smooth, deep voice is like music to your ears as you look at the sleep-deprived man towering over you. Rough stubble covers his face, his hair cascading to his shoulders, as his broad shoulders lean against the door frame.

"Oh... ah... yes, good morning. It was indeed me who contacted you... sir," you reply as he gestures for you to enter his house. You then take notice of his lavish yet cozy home, with toys scattered in the hallway. You both enter the kitchen, and he jerks his head toward a seat at the table with a low hum.

"Would you like to drink anything?" he asks, picking up his mug from the table as you shake your head.

"I am gonna be asking you a few questions and I need you to be honest with your answers." he commands, taking a seat opposite you. His black shirt puling slightly upwards, revealing his wrists as you give a simple nod.

"Firstly... What is your age?" He asks taking a sip from his mug.

"I am 25 years old.. sir.." You reply confidently however there is a frown on his face at your response. Was he... Upset? Afraid to loose this opportunity you quickly try and talk about your past experiences with kids as he interrupts you.

"No, it's not that I just hope you aren't lying about your age"

"Why... Would I?" You ask with a frown enveloping your face.

"I wouldn't believe you to be 18 with a face like that" He replies his tone rather blunt.

Ouch. His straightforwardness stinging lightly.

"Moving forward... do you party, drink or any of those stuff?"

"No, sir."

"Hmmm ... Fine, I suppose you can start working from today"

You give him a small smile as you mutter a small 'thank you'.

"Got any questions?"

"Actually yes! I was wondering where the kids might be so that I could ensure they're comfortable with me being around!!"

He gives a slight nod before replying his voice surprisingly gentle and low when talking about them "Yeah, they're sleeping right now. My eldest son; he wakes up at 9 and my daughter wakes up at 10:30." He gestures to a picture on the mantle showing a purple haired boy and grey haired girl laughing and playing together as you hear the faint sound of him taking a sip from his mug.

"They are so adorable." You gush smiling at their innocent faces. "And could I get some more information on what their personalities are like?"

"Hm.." he hums as he finishes the drink on his mug and sets it down on the table.

"Well my son is 9 years old, Shinsou that's his name, he doesn't warm up easily to people but he is quiet and usually plays with Eri or alone. Eri is my daughter she is 5 and quite literally the opposite of her brother, ahem.. she is talkative and quite sensitive. None of them are picky about their food, they eat anything that they're given and nor do they have any allergies.. and yeah that's about it.." He says rubbing his hands together and you can hear how rough and dry they are.

It had been two weeks since you started working in his house and only then you realised how often Shouta stayed away from home, any free time he got he would spend it with his children, taking them out for activities, cooking for them, playing with them, seeing how close he was with his son and daughter often left you with a smile on your lips at the close bond of the family. True to Shouta's word you could really see the difference in the way Shinsou would behave around you and around his father or sister and somewhere deep down you were a bit upset but you knew that all of this takes time and as long he was comfortable enough to have you around you were fine. But Eri on the other hand was absolutely adorable, she adored you and you adored her, say if you were watching Shinsou and Eri play it was Eri who would call you over and ask you to play with them. Aizawa on the other hand was always kind and formal with you sometimes even bringing takeaway for you, but whenever he was over you couldn't help but just look at his biceps the way they would bulge out from his shirt when he folded his arms, the way his hands would be disturbed with veins when his grip would tighten even in the slightest, and maybe.... Just maybe, you tried to catch his attention by wearing really short shorts or a tshirt that hug your body just at the right places.

But alas it was only you who kept drooling over him....

or that's what you thought...

You were seemingly unaware the amount of self control Aizawa had to practice just not to fuck you dumb on his cock.

It had been three months since you started working for him and you still found your gaze lingering on him for too long, initially it was at his face, then down to his broad shoulders, and then his chest, then it was further down to his hands and finally it was on his......

"Are you sad cuz papa isn't home today?" You hear the innocent voice of Shinsou behind you having counted your sighs since you woke up, which was according to him, around 32.

"No, no of course not Shinsou.. I am totally fine, just a bit tired" You lied, obviously you would. Why would you admit to finding Shinsou's father hot. Other than the fact that you want him to ruin you till you can't form any thoughts. And you definitely were sad that Aizawa was working till 9 pm that too on a Sunday.

Shinsou mumbles an "Okay..." walking away to colour his book that he had been previously doing before being worried about you. A few minutes after he had approached you, your face suddenly lit up as you realised that Shinsou was worried about you, you rushed up to him from the kitchen counter to the living room abruptly sitting down in front of him

"Are you worried about me Shinsou?" You ask excitedly your smile radiant. Shinsou earlier looking up at you looks away from embarrassment not replying, his ears turni red and you just couldn't help the aww that left your lips.

"Awww you're so cute!!" You squeal and your hand automatically goes to ruffle his hair and he doesn't pull away not this time and you realise that he has gotten comfortable with you, at that moment the door clicks open as Aizawa enters the house and peeks into the living room to see what the commotion was about.

"Papa!!!!" Eri squeals noticing her dad in the hallway as she runs up to him and Aizawa picks her up his voice gentle and soothing "Hey my love" He says kissing her on the cheek as she giggles from his stubble pricking her soft skin.

"Sup kiddo" Aizawa comes near you and Shinsou with Eri in his arms.

"Hello.." Shinsou greets him quietly as Aizawa bends down to ruffle his hair.

"All good?" Aizawa asks him and Shinsou nods as he goes back to colouring his book, Aizawa finally looks at you making your heart almost leap out as he gave you a small smirk "You seem happy, what's up?" He asks with a small groan as he puts Eri on the floor and she runs off playing "Shinsou let me ruffle his hair and he was worried about me!!" You reply excitedly your wide smile bringing a low chuckle from him.

"Oh yeah? What exactly were you worried about Shin?" Aizawa questions sitting down to look at what his son is colouring.

"(Name)-san was sad that you were working this late" Shinsou replies nonchalantly and you swear your eyes hadnt widened this much in your life, you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and Aizawa's eyebrows raise as he gives you a quick side glance before looking at Shinsou, he is about to say something when you interject denying strongly. "Shinsou!! I told you I was tired!! Thats not the case!!"

"Or, tired they say" He adds briefly, Aizawa doesn't even get the chance to say anything as you immediately get up picking up Eri and Shinsou taking them to their individual rooms ignoring any protests of Shinsou claiming how he was a big boy and he could stay up late, you argue with Shinsou for atleast half an hour before he finally agrees to sleep even though he was angry at you.

You head downstairs sighing and praying that Aizawa didn't pay much heed to whatever Shinsou said before as you head towards the living room to pick up the scattered toys and crayons only to be met with the sight of Aizawa sitting on the couch and while normally he isn't intimidating the way he sat with eyes closed, arms folded his right leg over his left reminded you of your father and his strict nature slightly intimidating you, quietly you pick up the toys glad that he fell asleep; as you picked the last of the toys you heard Aizawa's voice boom through making you freeze in your tracks "Still upset that I had work today?" You dont reply for a long time not trusting yourself to speak but when you do your voice is slightly shaky "No... No not at all.. why would I be.. you know Shinsou he just says whatever he wants..."

"Oh yeah? Does he?"

"........ okay well not ... Not exactly....."

You mumbel turning around to face Aizawa only to find him standing infront of you as looking down at your compared to his smaller form.

"Well then, answer my question."

You look away nervously chewing on your bottom lip, coating them pink with saliva, Aizawa tries to resist the urge to kiss you but fails as he grabs your face roughly pulling it closer to his, smashing his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and you can sense the sexual tension between you melting away.

You both pull free from the kiss, the room filled with pants, yours being much louder than his, taking in huge gulps of air.

You feel Aizawas arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer towards him.

"My room or the couch?" He whispers in your right ear his voice sending shivers along your spine.

It had been an hour since Aizawa had been prepping you after finding out you were a virgin, where once it burned to even have a single finger of his inside you, now you could easily 4 of his fingers at once.

Yet, tears spilled from your eyes when Aizawa pushes his dick (just the tip) inside you as Aizawa kisses away you tears with soft coo's of 'just a bit more' 'you're doing so good baby' 'it's just a few more minutes yeah, we will start to feel good real soon' rubbing soothing circles in your back as you sink your face into his shoulder blades, his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils; finally after what felt like an eternity your hole sits down on his his dick as he gradually thrusts into you making you whimper and groan.

"So fucking good for me.. shit... Ugh... Fuck so tight, so fucking compliant.... Shit baby .. you feel so good"

You hear him praise you but you're barely able to register even a single word due to your muddled state of mind, your whines get louder, his thrusts getting more faster and rapid now. He hits a particularly sweet spot as you rise your head to scream at the pleasure coursing through your body "That's the spot is it." Aizawa grunts angling his hips to hit that spot, chortling at your desperate and meek attempt to push him away.

"Cum... Sh...shit... Gonna cum... Fuck..."

"Yeah? Gonna come for me? Gonna come from this cock fucking you stupid?"

You nod your head frantically chanting a mantra of 'so good's', orgasm coursing through your body, your body trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm as you lay limp against his chest.

After what feels like a few minutes you feel Aizawa thrust into you making you whine from the overstimulation

"Cant... No... No please... Hurts..."

You try to push him away only for him grab your wrists with his hand behind your back as he increases the pace of his thrusts

"I am yet to come baby, just a few more rounds 'kay?"

[yaespook]

Canines.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Werewolf! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Wriothesley, no gendered terms used for reader, reader has a cock with a knot, oral (reader giving), snowballing, rimming (reader giving), gratuitous mentions of spit, muzzle and leash with collar used on Wriothesley, knotting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The bottom paws of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

Getting a new rookie transfer under him this late into the year wasn’t exactly what Wriothesley was expecting.

His office door opens abruptly but you seem almost as bewildered as he is at this surprise. No biggie, the issue is sorted out quickly and seeing that you don't have any case files or inmate registration papers on you (or any sort of personal records at all for the matter), he runs through the essentials before sending you off with a list of duties. 

He watches as you leave his office, you'll undoubtedly be an interesting case to handle.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Wriothesley finds you nice enough to be around during work. You're considerate and you work hard to get your job done. It's pleasant to have another regular familiar face beneath the depths and he's not above sharing his tea with you during your shared breaks. And growing closer, he asks you to box with him.

“Just some training, for fun, that's all.” He's lounging in his chair and cracks an eye open to gauge your reaction. “Feel free to say no if you don't want to. I won't die from the rejection.”

Wriothesley is assured in his combat skills, given his experience in the ring and his daily training. So how is it exactly that he's found himself in this position? 

Dragging out the spar by starting off defensive, dodging his attacks, it seemed as if you were going easy on him.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re going easy on me?” He throws a series of hooks and a particularly forceful uppercut.

But he wasn't interested in winning this friendly battle, he wants to see what you're truly made of. Hence, kicking it up a notch, he doubled the speed of the punches he's throwing, forcing you on the offensive. 

“You’re asking for it, Wrio!”

He's caught off guard when you start reciprocating and meeting him with the same speed and intensity in your attacks. Sure, your footwork and pivoting could use some work, but there's something surprising in the force behind your punches.

It ends when you manage to wrestle him into a headlock, the both of you sweaty and panting, his head pressed against your chest as he's suddenly aware of how close the two of you are. Tapping twice on your bicep hooked around his neck, he admits his defeat this time around. Freed from your restraint, he takes the time to massage his trapezius muscles as he gives you a once-over. 

“That was a good one, another next week?” 

You cough, “I think I’ll need more than a week to recover,” your tone sheepish.

It’s not often he’s beaten during spars, and for a rookie like you to do so? Extremely interesting. What exactly is your background? The secret to your seemingly supernatural strength? Since this incident, he’s found himself drawn to you even more.

However, keeping an extra vigilant eye on you means that he picks up on the smaller things that might be signs. The next Friday, you clock in later in the day, missing your shared tea breaks with him, and you clock out far earlier than usual, evident from the little note you leave at your desk when he looks for you.

“Sorry Wrio! Something urgent came up!”

He quirks an eyebrow up at this. What could have been so urgent that you had to leave immediately? Are you alright? Glancing around, he notices a bag left on your chair. Perhaps you left it here in your haste while leaving, but what if its contents are important to you? No matter, he'll see if he can pass it to you after work, it's a good chance to check up on you too.

But since you aren't around for the rest of the day, Wriothesley has strangely discovered that he's getting through his mundane paperwork and administrative duties a lot slower than if you were present. His brows furrow as he sighs to himself and sips his tea alone before continuing his work.

By the time he's done wrapping everything up and leaving, the full moon is already high up in the night sky. When he tears his eyes away from it, he spots you out of the corner of his eye. Though he would call out to you, your behaviour is suspicious, slinking around the shadows sneakily as you try to stay hidden. Wriothesley decides to tail you, just to make sure that you don't get into any trouble that he'll end up having to sort out. (And that he's also worried about you.)

His guard is up when you step into a wild forested area. The dim moonlight breaks in through the leaves of the canopy area, just enough for him to make out the ground beneath him. He watches where he steps in order to avoid generating any noise that might alert you but the second he looks back up for you, you’re nowhere to be seen.

Uneasiness starts to kick in. Wriothesley is uncaring of all the ruckus he’s making while rushing past trees and brambles as he scrambles to search for you. The thorns scrape and tear at his clothes but he pushes on, launching into high gear.

However, the deeper he gets into the forest, the more Wriothesley begins to notice things going terribly wrong.

There’s a heavy presence lurking amongst the dark shadows, one that has its eyes trained on him, watching his every move. Lumbering footsteps echo throughout the forest around him, as if getting closer and closer to his location. The sound of twigs nearby snapping sharply and the rustling of dry bushes. Trying to get to a better lit area within the forest, the chase is on.

He’s being hunted.

The vegetation begins to thin out slightly as he skillfully weaves between trees and he reaches a clearing. Catching his breath, he surveys his surroundings, keen eyes looking for any signs of movement. The moon hangs overhead, sharing its pale light.

And from the treeline, something pounces.

He stumbles back at the sudden impact, the wind knocked from his chest as he collides with the ground, eyes clenched shut. A beat passes before the weight on him suddenly lifts and he hears a gravelly yet oddly familiar voice, “...Wrio?” 

Forcing his eyes open, he finds himself at a loss for words. 

“I’m so so sorry. I assumed you were some kind of hunter stalking after me and…” your words spiral and trail on but he can’t seem to process anything you’re saying since he’s preoccupied with taking in this sight of you.

In this form, you’re a lot taller than he is and your physique is nothing short of intimidating. Is this where your impressive strength comes from then? Raking his gaze over your body, he pauses at your flexed thigh muscles from holding yourself above his pelvis. (You could crush him between them and he’d die a happy man.)

Your fur gleams under the moonlight, captivating him as a gentle breeze ruffles through it. By the time he tunes back into your spiel, all he catches is you saying, “I’ll make it up to you-”

“Make it up to me?”

“Yeah?” 

“Fuck me then.” He sees your ears shoot up as you try to gauge whether he actually means it and he tacks on, “I’m being serious. Plus no one will find us here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Fine, but pipe up if I’m too rough on you.”

A grin stretches across Wriothesley’s face at your agreement but it’s quickly replaced with a hiss when you drop and grind your dick down against his. Leaning forward, you have him completely pinned beneath you, your body heat and larger frame on his is simply dizzying.

“I’ll give you some kisses to start, hmm?”

He watches as your maw opens wide, showcasing your sharp teeth. He can feel your canines on either side of his face as you lick at his lips but there’s enough trust between the two of you that you won’t clamp down, your fangs gently grazing his skin. You wouldn’t hurt him after all.

You bury your snout in his neck, taking in his scent as the both of you grind against each other, a snarl leaving your throat as you feel how hard and soaked he’s getting under you. 

“So wet, Wrio. Are you that desperate?” Shifting and sitting up to strip him of his clothes, he chuckles as he replies, “Only for you.”

Taking off his shirt, you let out a low whistle at the man before you. His broad shoulders, salt and pepper chest hair on his pecs, the body hair and healed scars littered throughout, and not to mention his lovely happy trail up till his naval. Truly, a sight to behold.

Getting him out of the rest of his clothes, you nudge his legs apart and settle between them. Compared to your looming stature, Wriothesley gets a sense of how much smaller he is when your hands grasp at his thighs. (Or are they paws? Whatever. As long as they treat him real good tonight.)

Tracing the tip of a claw down his inner thigh, you watch him shudder, eyes widening as you get closer to his drooling cock.

“What? Already so turned on by me hunting you down and a little grinding?” You tease and a heat rises to his face, retorting, “Shut up.”

You bury your face closer in, snuffling as you lave a rough warm stripe against the underside of his length, the taste of his precum on your tongue. His legs clamp down slightly on your head when you do so and it’s apparent that he’s enjoying your attention on him. Almost as if he wants you to devour him whole.

Changing tactics, you shift your focus to enveloping the underside with your tongue before taking him into your mouth, careful to watch your teeth. The heat engulfing him has Wriothesley groaning loudly, his hips bucking into the warmth as his restraint starts to slip.

“Mffph… so good-!” He throws an arm over his eyes, more clipped moans escaping him while you swirl your tongue, working him to his peak.

But just when he’s about to tip over the edge, you let him out of your mouth, panting as he watches a thick strand of saliva stretch from your tongue to the tip of his dick.

“Hah… Why did you stop?” Sitting up on his elbows and supporting a frustrated scowl on his face, he looks laughably similar to a kicked puppy.

“Patience, dear Wrio, you’ll get your recompensation in due time.”

Moving one hand to his cock, you pump up and down languidly, aided by the copious amounts of precum and spit. His head spins when he feels you tonguing and lapping at his balls, your hot breath hitting the sensitive skin there.

You dip further down to lick at his rim, peering up to observe his reaction. And it’s amusing. His hands fly to grab at your shoulders, eyes shot open as his chest heaves.

“You liked that?” When he nods, that’s all you need to continue.

Manoeuvring him and hiking his hips up, he yelps at the shift but it quickly tapers into a moan as you press your tongue flat against his rim. You don’t stop stroking his cock as you slowly breach his hole, gingerly prying him open. Wriothesley sucks in a sharp breath at this and grinds down on your thick tongue, forcing it deeper, the pleasure in him building and spiking.

It’s not long before he’s spurting onto his tummy with a drawn out moan, walls clenching down on you and his hips stuttering up with his orgasm. Detaching for a second, you lick a long way up from the base of his dick to his dripping tip and his heaving abdomen, collecting his cum on your tongue.

“Open your mouth, Wrio.” And when he complies, you let your tongue hang out of your maw, a mixture of his cum and his saliva sloppily dripping from you and into his mouth. The ravenous look he gets when he swallows sends a shiver down his spine.

“So good for me, Wrio. Let’s move on shall we?” You give him a sly lick on his cheek. “Can you loosen yourself up a bit more? Wouldn’t want to rip you apart when you take me.”

After coating his fingers in your slick spit, you watch as he preps himself for you. Gazing around, you spy your bag discarded to the side on the ground. 

“Aww Wrio, were you trying to bring me my bag I left?”

“Mmph yeah-! I was worried- ah! -about you,” he grunts out his answer.

You respond with a low pleased rumble, stalking over to your bag and rifling through it to find what you’re looking for. From it, you retrieve a set of a collar with a leash and an accompanying muzzle. To Wriothesley’s surprise, it’s in his colours, complimenting shades of reds and greys.

“I bought it impulsively earlier today, thought of you while doing so. I think I’m in some sort of a rut,” you explain lowly, your eyes level with his and he feels as if he could be consumed with your gaze alone. 

Licking the shell of his ear, he can feel your breath fan across his nape as you continue, “Because of you, Wrio, no doubt.”

“Put it on me then,” there’s no hesitation in his voice when he says this and a satisfaction fills him when he sees your tail start wagging.

Carefully, you latch the collar around his neck, making sure it’s comfortable for him before moving on to fixing the muzzle on him. Finally, you attach the leash, the clip sound completing the set. 

As you take in how utterly delectable your Wrio looks for you right now, a filthy sense of pride rises up within you. You, a beast, managing to twist and warp and transform your human’s visage into one akin to yours, to have him leashed and muzzled as if he were the one with piercing canine fangs and a monstrous secret. And that he doesn’t cower or tremble with fear when pinned beneath you. It’s all too deliciously sinful.

The end of the leash is held in your claws as you eye him down. You manhandle him onto his fours and you line the tip of your cock at his hole. 

“I’ll take it slow, tell me if it hurts,” your head presses against his rim as it gradually pries him open, the wind is punched from his chest at your thick girth. Slowly sinking into him, Wriothesley’s vision spins as you split him open on your cock, the stretch an intoxicating one that has him wanting more. 

When your tip nudges against his prostate, he’s left seeing stars, a debauched moan slipping from his lips.

“Ughk!? Is it- hah! -is it all in?” You shush him, ghosting your claws on the skin above his arched spines.

“Just a bit more, you can take it, can’t you, Wrio?” An uncharacteristic whine rips from him when you finally bottom out in him, flush against the back of his thighs as you reach unfathomably deep in him.

You give him time to adjust to your size before you start moving, setting a relaxed pace to begin with. He squeezes down on your cock as you roll your hips, unrestrained noises escaping him as all sense is fucked from his mind. 

Picking up the intensity, you pull out halfway before slamming back into him, positioning your tip directly at where his prostate is while tugging on the leash.

“Hngk-! So big- AH! Fuck!” Wriothesley’s eyes roll back into his head, mouth hanging open.

Your repeated motions have him going crazy, his arms wobbling at the brutal onslaught of pleasure before giving out, the only things keeping him up are the knees folded under him and your hand clamping around the side of his hip.

Seconds blur into minutes and he doesn’t even know when you’ve started pounding relentlessly into him. Your thick shaft drags against his walls and he can feel every vein and twitch of your cock. 

Sensing you pulling on the leash, he turns and looks up at you, letting you see the drool dripping from his parted lips in the muzzle, his eyes unfocused and glazed over with nothing but raw lust. You give him a lick on his cheek, a kiss, before you fold your body over his, completely pressed against his back, pinning him beneath your massive frame.

“I’m close Wrio,” cooing into his ear again, your gravelly voice brings him back, “Want me to knot you?”

He babbles pitifully, “Uh- uh huh! AH! Yeah-! I- I want you!”

“You’re really asking for it now,” growling at his mindless pleading, you drive your cock in, a guttural howl leaving you as you climax, finally knotting your Wrio. The knot at your base stretches Wriothesley out even more and he can feel your cum filling him up inside. The searing pleasure causes him to pull taut, his back arching as he orgasms again, moaning as he tightens up around you, milking you for all you’re worth. 

The forest clearing is filled with the sounds of the both of you panting as you recover, checking in with Wriothesley to assure that he’s alright. While you wait for your knot to go down, you take the time to free him from the muzzle. The second you do, he leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your snout, a lazy grin hanging from his face.

“Hah… I think you’ve made it up to me,” a glint in his eyes, “Another round next week?”

[> You add a muzzle, collar, and leash set to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[astralis-is-typing]

Gossiping with skz

⚝fic type: head cannon (comedy/crack)

⚝word count: 1.4k

⚝A/N: I had so much fun writing this lmao, enjoy my unhinged assumptions ʕ⁠ノ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠ノ Thanks to @yonglixx for helping me find the gif.

｡Bang Chan*ﾟ

Knows all the tea before you even bring it up.

Homeboy knows everything about everyone somehow. I guess it’s because Chan has this really welcoming aura that just makes people deem him trustworthy. He won’t even pretend to be surprised by what you’re telling him, so you might feel a little put out… but he’ll more than make up for it by telling you what he knows! Your eyes are literally bulging out of your skull, your jaw hanging open by the time he’s done. It feels like you brought a snack and he pulled up with a whole five course meal. He’ll smirk at the expression on your face and tease you for thinking you could top his tea.

To put it simply, you cannot outdo the doer. Bro literally knows it all haha. Also, he’s very low-key about what he knows– so consider yourself lucky that he’s chosen you as his gossip buddy.

｡Lee Know*ﾟ

He'll pretend he’s uninterested and act like he’s ignoring you, only dropping the act to scold you that it’s bad manners to gossip. That is, until you mention something or someone that piques his interest. Now he has to know.

You’ll probably be teasing him like, ‘oh, I thought you didn’t want to know’, sticking your tongue out and walking away. If he needs to pin you down to the seat/couch HE WILL. As Han once said, “I can’t tease Lee Know-hyung, he’ll use force”. Will grant you one of his death stares if you try make him apologize before you finally spill for ignoring you. Literally will not let you leave till you finish the story.

Lee Know probably gets so smug when he’s the one bringing in the tea. Like his eyes glimmer and everything. I feel like he’d do that pose where he’s got his legs crossed and his hands on his lap; flashing you a cat-like grin and sitting so stoically upright while you’re borderline dangling out of your seat, just to hear what he’s saying because he won’t speak up.

  ｡Seo Changbin*ﾟ  

Gossiping with Changbin would have to exclusively be done in private because he’ll be reacting so loudly! Gaping and pointing when you mention someone in his line of sight. And heaven forbid the tea in question walks past you guys… man will STARE.

Brace yourself because he’s the type to smack your shoulder exceptionally astonished.

I feel like both he and Lee Know would ask loads of questions. They love gossip but also would like to verify that it isn’t all just hot air, you know? Also, whenever the two of you were in the same room as the people you were gossiping about he’d keep looking over at you and grinning or pulling faces that make you struggle to hold in a laugh. You’d be scolding him and hitting him (playfully of course) afterwards, vowing to never share ANYTHING with him again. He’d whine, promising he won’t be as obvious with future topics of discussion (a promise that barely lasts 2 days).

Bonus: Changbin is the type to store screenshots from group chat arguments like court documents. He has pretty incriminating evidence on that android of his so better not test the guy.

 ｡⁠Hwang Hyunjin*ﾟ

The type of friend to have just as much beef as you do with whoever you guys are talking about by the time you’re through with the tea.

Very reactive and will definitely be adding things on. Stuff like, ‘It isn’t even in their place!’ if someone’s talking smack about you and what not. With him it’s like sparring or a tennis match. When you serve, he will serve back; it builds up like a jenga tower. Just best friend material if you catch my drift.

Honestly there’d be a lot of tone variation haha. At some points you’d be whispering conspiratorially, leaning close to each other and whispering even if you two are alone. At other points your exaggerated hand gestures will be running the conversation. Gossiping with Hyunjin would be such a rewarding experience to be honest. In addition, he’s got a really expressive face, so you’d be knowing his opinion on whatever you’re saying immediately. Would definitely be slapping a hand over his mouth, frowning in disgust… the whole package.

Hyunjin has previously mentioned that he doesn’t judge a book by its cover, preferring not to believe rumours about people, and this is true. Nevertheless, he’d indulge you (thoroughly) because he trusts your judgement and you aren’t one to think badly of a person without reasons.

Bonus: Snacks and actual tea (or in his case, iced americanos) are FOR SURE part of the conversation. Would be sipping dramatically with raised eyebrows when you mention someone he knows. Let’s out a dramatic ‘SAME!’ because he doesn’t like them either. “I thought I was the only one,” he’d say while clutching his chest before shaking his head and continuing to munch on whatever flour-based snack he’s brought that day.

 ｡Han Jisung*ﾟ

Cannot keep still while gossiping. Will keep standing up and will even pace/ walk around when something is particularly juicy. And with his weak ass legs he’d probably trip and end up just lying on the floor for a while… unbothered by it because the story is getting good. Yes, Han is a floor gossiper. (Insert Rose’s “everything I need is on the ground” meme.)

Han also is the type to get SO wrapped up in a tea time session that he won’t notice the time passing lmao. He’ll probably remember an even juicier story mid-story haha. “BY THE WAY! Did I ever tell you-?”/ “SPEAKING OF WHICH-!”.

Like, every new point you make reminds him of something else. The two of you are out here putting pieces of a puzzle together until you’ve found out who the neighbour is cheating on her husband with or something lol. Like it’s part gossip part detective work, you two actually deserve salaries for how good you are. If you guys are texting and you drop a bomb, be prepared (preferably with low phone volume) for an impromptu facetime with a SHAKEN Jisung. Also, if any of the other members know something about what you two are talking about he’ll be dragging them in. If it’s Seungmin, who’s very stingy with his tea, the two of you will be offering your kidneys for the information he most definitely can give you.

No snacks/ drinks here because he’s probably the type to spit out his water in shock haha.

 ｡Lee Felix*ﾟ

Bro gets astronomically shocked. Like his reactions when he’s gossiping, watching people roast each other or similar situations are just priceless.

At first he’s pretty tentative with it because he doesn’t gossip much, but he’ll come around. He’s more subtle than Changbin but will still be nudging you with his elbow or foot when the ‘issue’ is in the room with you.

An adlib gossiper- he even gasps on beat and all that. You’ll be all like, “Felix you won’t believe what they said-” and he’ll be like, “Gurl what did they say??!” (You know, in the best aussified alternative for this sentence, cannot imagine the term gurl/gworl coming out of Felix’s mouth lmao).

If someone’s watching you guys they’ll feel so excluded (how I felt when watching skz talker in the gif *sigh*… feeling intensifies when there are no subs). Also I feel like a prime location for a gossip session would be the car! Long journeys where there’s not much to see outside the window, and you turn to him like, “Did you hear about…”

 ｡Kim Seungmin*ﾟ

Now if you’ve ever watched 2kr (2 Kids Room) you KNOW this man has the inside scoop.

It’s an elite feeling to be gossiping with Seungmin because, as I’d mentioned before, he’s very choosy when it comes to who he shares his tea with. That stuff is scalding hot. Like between him and Chris, those two know all the jyp ent. secrets. Like bro probably has documents proving that Hyunjin and Yeji are related. Seungmin is INFORMED.

This is another member who’ll have actual tea with him, cradling the cup delicately with both palms and sipping slowly as he watches you lose your mind over the rim of the mug. Crosses his legs and acts so nonchalant while slapping you with the fattest, juiciest conspiracy/rumour you’ve ever heard. If you tell him something he actually doesn’t know, his composed aura will fade so fast- mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as you share your story.

 ｡Yang Jeongin*ﾟ

Jeongin will 100% end a gossip session saying, “But anyways, who are we to judge?”

Between Innie’s attitude and Grandma identity your boy is a prime candidate for a gossip buddy. He’s just THE ONE. His yt/vlives are literally titled ‘Maknae’s Private Life’- doesn’t that scream tea to you? Like if you’re gossiping in a group his input is for sure the most awaited. People will be leaving to go look for him if he isn’t already present.

Gossiping with Jeongin is all hushed tones and huddled conversations. Bro might even go as far as putting his phone on silent if the tea is hot enough. I feel like he’d unintentionally switch to his Busan accent when things start to get really juicy lmao.

Abruptly keeps quiet or changes the topic whenever someone passes by the two of you. If you aren’t used to this you’ll get so confused, looking at him like ‘???’ when he randomly starts telling you about the new shoes he bought.

Idk why, but to me I.N’s really good at insta stalking and he would be pulling up people’s pages if you didn’t seem to know who he’s talking about.

⚝A/N: How would you rank them MTL? I'd love to hear about it. P.s: in case you like them, the orange dividers originally by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more​ 

+Thank you for reading!♡ Here's a present for making it to the end😋:

[akutasoda]

hi hi ml!!! we’ve only recently become moots but i hope you dont mind me joining your event 🫶‼️ if star rail is still open, wb boothill & aventurine !! with general domestic stuff !! specifically cooking or baking with him ;; i wonder how that would go

also thank you again for the opportunity 💕💕

a life with you

synopsis - a domestic lifestyle with them

includes - aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, domestic stuff, fluff, slight angst at the start, slight crack, teasing, wc - 675

a/n: hii ren! don't mind at all <3

aventurine ★↷

↪a domestic setting to aventurine is something to be treasured with your loved ones. he loved his family and he still does but now after all this time, the person he gets to experience domestic bliss with is you.

↪to him, being with you in that domestic style is one of the only places where he can show his weaknesses. it's just you and him so if you've made it this far with him he trusts you enough to show his most vulnerable side.

↪it would be a change of pace compared to his life as one of the stonehearts but a very welcome change. he'll let himself indulge heavily in the moments of peace with you as he knows that being with you is the closest thing he can get to being safe.

↪due to being a stoneheart, he is prone to being sent across the galaxy quite often and with you in his life he does try and get back to you as quick as possible. alot of the time he gets back late as well so doesn't encourage you to wait up for him but if you do, his heart melts so much.

↪once he gets really comfortable with you, you can start seeing him become more open and honest with his words and actions. he likes to embrace you whenever he can and sometimes catches himself unconsciously searrching for your figure even if you're right next to him.

↪maybe has some cooking or baking skills but would be extremely limited - very open to learn however and whether it's out of genuine interest or just an excuse to be with you is up in the air. very willing to help you anywhere and so cooking or baking is no exception.

↪would be a surprisingly good baker/cook. it takes him a little while to get into it but when he does he becomes very efficient. no accidents would occur when you two cook or bale together and whatever you'd make would turn out very good.

boothill ★↷

↪a galaxy ranger, a bounty hunter, a cowboy. boothill was many things, constantly moving around to chase his next target - he didn't live for himself afterall. he never settled in one area for too long and so domestic activities were irrelevant in his life.

↪he probably had a higher probability of experiencing domestic activities when he was human but definitely not as a cyborg. he just doesn't have time for such trivial things that wouldn't give him the homeliness that it would to anyone else. or so he thought.

↪you made alot of things that seemed pointless to his cold metal body worthwhile. he may not be able to feel the same feelings he used to but atleast with you he could fully convince himself that he could. so that domestic feeling becomes real to him.

↪ it's never really a dull day when boothill's around, although if you asked him he'd tone down his slight hyperactive mind. he isn't that energetic at home but he can get very loud and annoying sometimes especially when you knwo he's trying to tease you

↪he's very touchy both in and out of a private setting, sometimes tones it down if you aren't really a pda type. while he may not be able to feel you under his cold fingertips he can instead feel a comfort in knowing nobody would dare mess with you when you have him practically slumped on top of you. also is a massive bed hogger - you have to fight him for even a slither of the bed.

↪cooking probably isn't one of boothill's strong suits. whether or not he actually need to consume food is unknown - he probably doesn't but because he does have a human face he probably can still taste. however he'd gladly entertain you if you wanted cook or bake with him.

↪ absolutely no help whatsoever. most likely does not know how to cook or bake but would insist he does just to nearly set things on fire. if you really wanted him to help you probably have to distract him by telling him to hand you ingredients or stir things but then he'd insist to help - do you think he could pull up recipes in his mind?

akutasoda's 1k event

[randombush3]

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago. 

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary. 

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch. 

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional. 

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–” 

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.” 

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same. 

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that. 

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.” 

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Ona, I think I’m gay.” 

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be. 

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you? 

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago. 

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you. 

…

A year passes. 

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes. 

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam. 

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded. 

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’ 

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up. 

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.” 

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say. 

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you. 

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her. 

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible. 

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it. 

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.” 

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.” 

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.” 

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now. 

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return. 

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?” 

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.” 

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.” 

No one in the room is convinced. 

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!” 

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on. 

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually. 

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated. 

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails. 

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.) 

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.” 

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship. 

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is. 

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so. 

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath. 

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–” 

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.” 

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home. 

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas. 

It’s a camping trip. 

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house. 

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path. 

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support. 

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete. 

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol. 

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so. 

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same. 

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona. 

Therein lies the issue, actually. 

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always. 

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop. 

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything. 

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school. 

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow. 

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers. 

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours. 

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes. 

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her? 

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes. 

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology. 

It’s not a crush. 

Not on Ona. 

No. 

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested. 

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic. 

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.” 

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic. 

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?” 

“I am happy for you, I just said that.” 

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.” 

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions. 

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere. 

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes. 

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself. 

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been. 

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry. 

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat. 

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here. 

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back. 

Milan is great but– 

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows. 

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure. 

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused. 

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present. 

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background. 

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed. 

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through. 

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you. 

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee? 

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable. 

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap. 

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.” 

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.” 

“I’m twenty-one!” 

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh. 

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends. 

[thewitchblue]

"Why'd he send you?"

Bruce asked bluntly, his Batman suit on with his gaggle of children evasdropping in the background not-so-subtly. I quirked an unamused eyebrow at the bulky man in front of me.

"It just so happens that I owed Constantine a favour. Do you want my help, or do you want to deal with your little demon friend all by yourself?"

Batman huffs an amused laugh. This is the best demonologist Constantine claims in the world? Red Robin asked Nightwing in a mutter,

"I'm not seeing things, am I?"

Apparently, he didn't think I'd hear him. I smirked as I turned my attention to the older Robin. He nervously shifted his weight when my intense gaze watches him, before becoming a bit panicked once he realized he physically cannot move away from me as I approach. I eye him up-and-down with appreciation before saying,

"You're cute, Little Red. Let's get coffee sometime. After I banish this fucker, of course."

This seemed to surprise everyone in the cave, but my focus was back to the demon Batman managed to get an attachment to.

"Now, how did you manage to get this fucker attached to you? Were you feeling especially lonely and struck a deal?"

I eye Batman curiously. Red Hood chuckles in amusement, but I choose to ignore him. There is a weird tension in the room when Red Hood and Batman make eye contact, so I clear my throat loudly to draw attention back to me as I study the cage that the demon is currently trapped in it. He managed to isolate and contain the demon, so that's a start. He sighs and explains,

"No, I'm not lonely enough to stoop so low."

I give an acknowledging hum. My eyes stay trained on the demon. It was rattling the cage it was imprisoned in, hissing and cursing at me while I approach it.

"Let's just ask the demon then, shall we?"

I stop in front of the demon and ask it,

"Now, what deal did you two make?"

The demon merely growled in response. I growl back at it, reaching into its body and squeezing its heart until it whimpered. I hiss,

"Answer me."

Its gravelly voice said,

"I was promised a new body by an alternative Batman. Clearly, I made a wrong turn."

I purred as I released my grip,

"Good boy."

Batman frowned in thought, but stayed silent by my side. He seemed to already have an idea of who struck the deal.

"Now, which Batman promised you this wanker?"

The demon snarls,

"He goes by Owlman. He merely promised me a Batman."

I give a thoughtful hum as I fully remove my hand from its heart, wiping off the dark blood from my hand.

"Well, that turned out swimmingly for you, didn't it?"

It snarled in response to my false sympathy. Red Hood snorts at my antics. He seemed to be entertained by the entire situation.

"Well, it appears your little deal wasn't fully thought out. I'm sending you back. Next time, possess Owlman instead."

I murmur my spell softly to myself before snapping in a particular pattern. The demon howled before it dissipates like mere smoke. I crack my knuckles nervously before turning back to the Batfamily and saying,

"If you need my services again, ask Little Red over there. He has my number."

Red Robin looked confused until he reached into his pocket and felt the slip of paper I planted on him. He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket to the dismay of everyone in the cave. I send a wink his way once his disbelieving eyes turn back to me.

With a wave of my hand, I disappear from their cave before anyone could reply. Truthfully, I was a tad nervous to hear his reply. I'm still rusty when dealing with the living after spending so many years trapped in a metaphorical cage with anti-magic wards. Before John saved my sorry arse, I was entrapped for pissing off the wrong crowd.

I have much more experience with the dead and celestial as a result. They are a lot easier to figure out and handle than regular human beings.

Tim had never been more conflicted. Granted, he didn't have anyone who showed genuinely interest in him like this demon hunter. He had to applaud the flawless effort.

"Aww, you two would be so cute!"

Dick said with an encouraging grin. Dick, of course, was excited and happy for his brother. He wraps an arm around him in a side hug before letting go and saying,

"You should reach out! The chemistry between you two reminds me of myself and Starfire."

Jason rolls his eyes and fakes gags at Dick's brotherly excitement. Despite his annoyed exterior, he still defends Tim,

"You care too much, Grayson. Let my replacement come to his own decisions."

Tim gives a shy smile. The demonologist was rather cute and he appreciates the boldness and the stealth it took to even slip the note in his pocket. He softly says,

"Maybe I will."

[izvmimi]

cw: crack, fluff, insecure bakugou. izuku and shoto have unnamed female partners.

“Are you good?”

Izuku doesn’t hear him the first time, and Katsuki makes a grunt of frustration before raising his voice again to repeat the question.

“What the hell is going on with you, Deku?”

Izuku startles slightly at the question as he zips his duffel bag closed then turns to his friend/coworker. His left arm is still bent with his hand rubbing his flank, just as he has periodically for the past hour. 

“Yeah?”

“Why are you acting like you have the spine of an eighty-year-old?” Katsuki inquires, closing his own locker. Izuku gives him a look of confusion initially, then his eyebrows raise as he connects the dots.

“Oh, yeah my back hurts a bit. The couch we have isn’t that comfortable.”

“Couch?”

Shoto looks up, still hunched over tying his shoelaces, also curious. Izuku notices his sudden interest and laughs, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, uh... ___ had a dream that I was cheating and-”

Bakugou grimaces and cuts in. “So you slept on the couch?”

Izuku’s embarrassed laughter worsens. “Well it’s easier to just do that than to explain to her that she doesn’t have premonition...”

Katsuki sighs and rolls his eyes, not intending to inquire further about his friend’s girlfriend’s insane behavior, but Shoto suddenly snorts as he stands up. Surprised, the other two glance at him. 

“And why are you laughing?” Katsuki is the first to ask. 

Shoto slings his far-too-expensive gym bag over his shoulder, smiling. 

“Because for once I actually get this sentiment.”

Katsuki raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean you get it?”

As Shoto leads the way out of the agency locker room, Shoto explains that the last time he slept on the couch had a similar tone - 

“Apparently there’s a wrong way to answer ‘would you love me if i were a worm’?”

Izuku frowns.

“Yeah, you should have dodged that..”

“I mean, she did curl up next to me afterwards to sleep so it was okay... eventually... after a lot of tears.”

Shoto and Izuku laugh while Katsuki follows along, suddenly realizing he’s the only one who might be left out of the experience of having an insane partner. The elevator down to the garage opens, and the three step out with Katsuki still lost in thought. 

“Wait, they both act like this?” he asks. 

Izuku and Shoto exchange a look then shrug.

“I guess love makes you a little ridiculous,” Izuku offers. Shoto grins in agreement and suddenly Katsuki has the sudden feeling that he’s losing.

---

When Katsuki shows up to your apartment an hour, you can practically feel the tension in the air, emanating from the deep frown on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at him as he makes eye contact with you, wondering what the problem is this time. It’s not that he’s never been prickly coming home, but usually he softens when you greet him; this time however, you welcome him home and he gives you a less than enthusiastic response before dropping off his keys on the counter and running to the bathroom.

You give him 2 minutes to do his business and flush, then when he comes out decide to deal with his pouting gently.

“What’s the problem, baby?” There’s a tiny bit of playfulness in the way you reach for his cheeks and pat them, and he leans into your touch, even if he’s grumpy. Placing his hands on yours, he asks, completely seriously, 

“Don’t you have something silly to ask me?”

Your hands drop from his face slowly and you tilt your head to the side, slow-blinking. 

“What?”

He takes your hands and replaces them back on his cheeks, an action that almost brings you to laughter but you opt instead to remain serious.

“Don’t you wanna ask me if I’d marry you in every lifetime or something?”

You watch him stunned then laugh.

“What is this about?” 

He pouts.

“Do you even get jealous over me?”

The two of you watch each other in silence as you take this in, and then you burst into laughter for real, unable to hold it in.

“Katsuki-” you start between giggles, “- what’s this about?”

“You’re not crazy enough about me,” he finally admits, then his hands lower for his arms to wrap around your waist, pressing you flush to him.

You give him a sly look.

“So you’re giving me permission to be crazy?” you ask. A finger is pressed to his chest and you draw circles on it. As you look up at him furtively, your teeth now biting your lower lip in mischief, he wonders if he’s making a mistake. 

And yet he takes your fingers in his hands and kisses them.

“Yes.”

You giggle and pull back, putting your hands on your hips.

“Have you considered that you might be the crazy one?” you tease.

And that goes over fine at the moment when he hugs you and kisses you and decides to move on to dinner, but it’s an idea that suddenly plagues him in the middle of the night. 

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it...

He turns over to you in bed and nudges you. Your eyes creak open and he looks positively distressed, as he asks:

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

[forcedagere]

I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.