#yes i know i'm asking for too much shut up

[rowdyluv]

luke! #8 she/her

this is so jack teasing luke! luke having the biggest crush on a friend and everyone knows but her

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: 8, “Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.” Jᴜsᴛ ɢᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ (ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴ).”

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 500

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴏꜰ ʟᴇɢᴀʟ ᴀɢᴇ

From the porch, Luke's gaze was unwavering, his eyes locked on the distant figure of Y/n as she laughed and chatted with her friends by the dock. She was the center of their world down there, her laughter carrying through the still air and tickling his ears like a secret only he was meant to hear.

"You've got it bad," Jack said, appearing at his side with a knowing smirk. He handed Luke a cold beer, the condensation leaving a trail of wetness on his palm.

Luke took the bottle, trying to ignore the smirk on his brother's face. "It's not like that," he protested, his voice betraying his words of lies. He took a swig, the cold liquid a temporary balm to his embarrassment.

Jack leaned against the porch rail, his arms folded. "Oh really? Because you’re doing it again," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Doing what?" Luke feigned ignorance, his cheeks reddening slightly as he took a gulp of the beer.

Jack chuckled. "You know, that whole 'I'm gonna watch Y/n from afar like a lovesick puppy and not do anything about it' routine. It's a bit painful to watch.”

"Shut up, Jack," Luke grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "It's not like you've never had a crush before."

“And what did I do? I went and talked to her, right?” Jack asked rhetorically.

The question hung in the air, challenging Luke’s inaction. Y/n’s laughter grew louder, as she led her group of friends back up towards the house.

“Now or never Lukey, you see her. Wait too much longer someone else is going to come around. Don’t want that do ya?” Jack tested, pushed even.

“You’re one to talk, you just go for it without thinking and it’s always a mess. Besides, it’s different for you. Girls just throw themselves at you,” Luke said, trying to hide his jealousy behind a sip of his beer.

“For godsake Luke, if you don’t tell Y/n yourself. I’ll do it for you.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Tell me what?” She asked topping the stairs to the porch.

They both spun around to see Y/n standing there, her eyes curious and a hint of amusement playing on her lips. She’d heard the tail end of their conversation. Luke’s heart stuttered in his chest, his grip tightening around the bottle.

“Yes, Luke. Tell her what?” Jack grinned cheekily taking a couple safety steps away from his taller, though younger, brother.

Panic flooded through Luke’s body. He took a big gulp of his beer, his eyes darting between his brother and Y/n. Taking a deep breath, running his hands through his messy curls, he lets out the breath. “Can we talk about it alone?”

“Of course, Lukey. You know we can talk anytime.” She offers out her hand to him to lead him inside so they could talk with the barrier of the door adding a layer of privacy Luke wasn’t too sure of himself, but Jack was right.

Now or never.

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

"So there's this new teacher-" Shoko barely got the words out before Gojo was gone, a blur of white hair and boundless curiosity. He didn’t have much time before his next mission, but curiosity burned brighter than any responsibility.

Sliding open the door with unnecessary flair, he called out "Y/N L/N!!!"

You froze, mid-sentence with your students, eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, you turned. "Uh... Yes?"

"woahhhh you're h-" Before he could finish, Megumi clamped a hand over Gojo’s mouth and dragged him backward, tossing him out with a sigh. "I'm sorry.. just ignore him.."

You chuckled, nodding. “I guessed as much. He seems... eccentric.”

After that day, Gojo Satoru became little more than a ghost. He drifted through the school on occasion, but missions whisked him away to far-off places. You caught glimpses but never exchanged more than polite nods.

When Gojo returned from a mission, Yuuji greeted him with the news that made his heart sink. “She was only here for a week.”

Gojo's expression fell as he slumped into his seat. “HUHHHHH?! You’re joking.”

Yuuji patted his back sympathetically. “Sensei, it’s okay.”

Nobara, perched with her chin in her hand, shrugged. “She’s from the Fukuoka branch. And rumor says she just got a boyfriend. No chance for you, Gojo.”

Gojo glanced at her with wide, teary eyes. “Ehhhh?!”

Megumi arched a brow. “Why are you so obsessed?”

Gojo sighed dramatically. “It’s rare to meet someone that stunning. I mean—”

“You want to make a Gojo baby with her-” Nobara said bluntly.

Yuuji clamped his hand over her mouth, dragging her out. “Don’t encourage him!” Megumi followed without a word, and the three left Gojo alone, sulking.

Fukuoka, huh? He thought, lips curling into a smirk.

By the time Ichiji realized Gojo had vanished, the sorcerer was already in Fukuoka.

You browsed a small bookstore when someone barreled into you.

Gojo caught you just before you hit the ground. “Ah, sorry! Are you hurt?”

You blinked, recognizing the man immediately. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

Before he could answer, another man appeared, placing a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Who’s this?”

Gojo’s smile barely wavered. “Her colleague.”

The man offered a handshake. “I’m her brother. Sorry, I thought you were bothering her.”

Gojo accepted the handshake with a tight smile.

Later that evening, you invited him to dinner. Gojo agreed far too quickly.

While waiting for your brother to bring the car around, you shot him a suspicious glance. “Why are you here?”

He leaned lazily against a lamppost. “Where else would I be? I didn’t get to know you, and you already left.”

The dinner passed comfortably, but when Gojo lingered at your doorstep, you shook your head. “Gojo, the higher-ups need you. Go.”

“But Y/N—”

You shut the door, leaving him standing in the cold.

In the following days, Gojo became a fixture at your side, appearing more frequently than his own students.

Your brother, less than thrilled, arranged a blind date to steer you away.

Gojo, en route to his favorite dessert shop, spotted you across the cafe with another man.

His blood boiled. Before he could think better of it, he stormed inside, yanking your hand from across the table.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

His jaw tightened. “I should be asking you that. Who was that?”

“My date.”

“Why?” His voice dropped dangerously low.

You pulled your hand away. “Why not? You never said anything.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “My feelings are obvious, Y/N.”

“You deserve someone better,” you replied softly. “Besides, dating you means dealing with the higher-ups.”

Gojo stepped closer, crowding your space. “So, that’s it? You’d rather settle for him?”

You tried to look away, but he caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your gaze up. “Y/N, you can’t run from me.”

You swallowed, pulse racing. “Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he corrected, voice soft yet commanding. “Say it. Just once.”

The words died on your tongue as he leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. And I don’t let go easily.”

[viasdiary]

can you write more frat luigi you actually eat every single time

similar to the jerk with benefits fic!!

☆ hazing (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 845

☆ warnings: rough sex, intoxication, overstim

☆ asshole frat luigi takes your virginity not so gently

☆ based on this p!link and these pics

you’re so fucking drunk. you lay in the middle of luigi’s bed as he roughly kisses your neck and pulls at the straps of your top, trying to work them down your shoulders. he  feels so good on top of you, his skin slightly sweaty, smelling faintly of cologne.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot” he says breathlessly against your skin. you run your fingers through his soft dark curls as he plants kisses down your chest, pulling your top down completely. he runs his hands over your bare skin, his touch sending shivers through your body. 

he pauses to look you in the eyes, his silver chain dangling above you.

"this is gonna be the best you’ve ever fuckin’ had, trust me." he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“it’s gonna be the first i’ve ever had,” you reply, barely a whisper.

“you’re a virgin?” he scoffs, the arrogant smile on his face growing. he continues kissing along your jawline as he runs his hands across your bare thighs.

"don’t expect me to be all gentle, alright? you’re gonna have to fuckin’ keep up."

he sits back to take off his white tank top, revealing his broad chest and defined abs, a few freckles scattered across his torso.

he gets back on top of you, pulling your skirt down your legs and letting it fall onto the bed. he kisses his way down your stomach, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and sliding them off.

he kneels between your legs, kissing his way up your inner thigh. he pauses when he reaches your hip, sucking on the tender skin. he pulls back and grins, admiring the faint mark already forming.

"i want everyone to know what i fuckin' did to you" he says, licking his lips.

"i want every guy to see it and wish they had a chance with you"

you moan softly as he runs his hands over your breasts, lightly rubbing your nipples. you gasp as he presses his tongue against your clit, moving in slow circles.

"fuck." you breathe, grabbing his hair.

"you like that?" he asks, grinning up at you.

"fuck yes,"

he slides his hand up your thigh and rubs his fingers against your wet pussy, causing you to squirm under his touch. he slips one inside, thrusting slowly.

"so fucking tight."

he adds another, picking up the pace. you can feel your climax building, your moans growing louder.

he pulls his fingers out and you whine at the loss of contact. he gets back on top of you, has hands traveling your body.

"you think i'm letting you fuckin' finish without me?" he chuckles softly, running his hands over your breasts.

he leans in to kiss you, his tongue pushing into your mouth. he tastes so good, faintly like beer. he kisses his way down your neck, nipping and sucking on the soft skin. he kneels in front of you on the bed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers down. his hard cock springs free, his tip glistening with pre cum.

"you ready for this baby?" he asks, pumping his hand along his shaft.

"i'm gonna make you mine"

he leans over you, lining his cock up with your entrance. he slowly pushes inside, the stretch slightly painful. he groans as he buries himself inside of you. he holds your thighs open, pressing them into the bed as he drills deeper.

"so fuckin' tight...fuck..." he breathes.

you moan as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting your cervix. he watches your tits bounce as he slams into you, the sight driving him fucking insane.

"oh god," he breathes, his hands gripping your thighs firmly, pushing them against your sides.

"it's too much" you whimper, as he practically folds you in half, pounding into you harder.

"shut the fuck up" he pants. "you can fuckin' take it." he picks up his pace, his moans growing louder.

"i'm so fuckin' close," you cry, arching your back.

"fuck yeah, i can tell." he replies, his breathing labored.

he leans forward, looking down at you as he continues pounding into you.

"say my fuckin' name."

"luigi," you moan, the intense feeling of him stretching you out almost sending you over the edge.

"louder baby." he urges. “let everyone hear me fuckin’ ruining you.”

"luigi, please" you beg, feeling your orgasm building.

"cum for me baby" he groans, fucking you so deep it feels he's breaking you. you can feel yourself getting close, your cries growing louder.

"that's right. fuckin' cum all over my cock" he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. he grips your thighs tighter as he pumps into you a few more times before letting out a deep groan, filling you completely.

you both stay like that for a minute, breathing heavily. he lets go of your legs, causing them to fall to either side of him. he falls on top of you, burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around him, your fingers gently brushing his soft curls.

"not too bad for a virgin." he chuckles against your skin.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Roosterwhale behind the cut; "the one where Kryptonians have omegaverse genders, but nobody told Match". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Mm,” Superman murmurs, sitting down on the armrests and stroking his hair again. “You’re taking it hard this cycle, aren’t you. I don’t think I’ve seen you fall in it this deep so quick since the first time.” 

Match has an odd, inexplicable urge to push him away, or to just squirm away from the armrests and Superman’s hand and–hide, somehow. How is that . . . why is . . .

He doesn’t understand what’s making him want to do that. 

But–Superman smells safe, still, and that’s . . . that’s distracting. Confusing. It’s . . . 

“Mm,” Match says, mostly in echo of Superman saying it, though he forgets . . . whatever else Superman said. It didn’t sound as full in his head, so he doesn’t remember. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to, or . . . 

“Don’t worry,” Superman says gently, still stroking his hair over and over. Match doesn’t understand why he’s doing it. Doesn’t understand why he even did it the once, much less why he’s still doing it. “Your sem-zahm'll be here soon. Just a couple excuses to make first.” 

Match feels heavy and sleepy and blurred, but the only thing that sounded full in his head was . . . 

“. . . sem-zahm,” he mumbles, tightening his grip on the pillow and digging his fingers into it. That was–the thing that sounded “full”. 

“Yes. And the zehdh-voi will take care of you, same as always,” Superman says, steady and reassuring, and then the corner of his mouth quirks up wryly. “Just try not to disassemble too much of the Fortress this time, mm?” 

“. . . yessir,” Match tries, not sure why he . . . is there a reason he’d disassemble the Fortress? A reason Superboy would’ve? That seems–stranger. That Superboy would’ve. 

“Kon,” Superman says, softening again and petting his hair more heavily. Match–Match just melts. Melts into something warm and heavy and useless and–and–

Useless. He’s–he– 

Match’s stomach knots, and roils, and suddenly feels worse than the cramps ever made it. He–he can’t be–he can’t be useless, he–he can’t be useless, if he’s useless he– 

“Kid?” Superman asks, stilling the hand he has in his hair and sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“Won't help me. Won't,” Match chokes roughly without even meaning to open his mouth, screwing his eyes shut and locking all his muscles with his TTK before he can–react. Before he can let anything else show. Superman can already tell he’s–how can Superman tell he’s wrong, what did he do, where did he–why is he–“Can't think right, m’all stupid, no use if I'm stupid, m'degrading, just gonna degrade and get scrapped and won't even be good enough to use the parts from, not–not worth anything if m'stupid–useless if I’m–if I’m–” 

“Kid,” Superman says again as he leans in a little, and the eucalyptus smell fills up the whole world, but–but it’s still– “You’re not stupid. Remember? This is normal. We'll take care of you and you'll feel better after it’s over, just like always.” 

“No,” Match croaks, and is shocked and disgusted and terrified to realize he’s this close to tearing up, and why–why can’t he shut up–“No. Not worth the investment. Not worth fixing. Results weren't good enough, experiment was a waste of resources. Stupid to indulge in the sunk-cost fallacy. I’m stupid. I can't be stupid, I have to be good enough.” 

“You’re not any of those things, Kon,” Superman says quietly, smoothing his hair back off his forehead. 

But he’s not saying that to Match. 

Superboy’s not the one who’s degrading, Superboy’s not the one who’s useless if he’s stupid, Superboy’s not here and–and Superboy–Superboy Superman might actually bother to fix, maybe. He’s done it before, for whatever reason Superman does anything. He’d even tried to get him to help him do it before. 

But Match didn’t help him, so even if Superman could fix him, he won’t. 

They’ll let him degrade ‘til he rots and then they’ll throw him away and won’t even use the scraps of him, he’ll just be nothing, nothing, nothing, he’s not a person so he’ll just be dead, gone, he isn’t going to leave anything behind, not a soul or a ghost or a single ripple in the world. There isn’t an afterlife or anything like that that’d take him even if there’d be something left to take, but–but there won’t, because there isn’t, because he’s not a person and he’s never even tried to be so he’ll just be–nothing, he’ll be nothing and it’ll never have mattered that he happened at all, nothing he’s done will ever have mattered, he was just a mistake, a waste of resources, a failed result, a bad and useless thing that never, ever mattered for anything or–or to any–anyone. 

He can’t even degrade right. 

He should’ve told his handlers he was. Should’ve told the doctors. Told a guard or–just someone. Told someone, so they could scrap the plan and adapt and schedule his–his autopsy, or necropsy, or dissection, so they could maybe build something less useless next time; something that could actually serve the Agenda’s purpose. 

Not out of any of his DNA, though. So maybe he isn’t even useful enough for that. 

Match’s eyes are burning. They’re probably rotting. Degrading. His vision’s all blurred and his eyes are burning and he can’t even breathe right, or maybe even at all, and he–he– 

Superman’s saying something, Match realizes from some small, crushed-down place inside himself where there isn’t even anywhere to go anyway, where there isn’t even really a place. There’s nothing inside him, so why would there be? He’s not–he’s– 

Superman’s–been saying something, Match realizes. 

“Kid,” Superman says tightly. “Look at me.” 

Match doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to even be here. Doesn’t want to even be anywhere.

But Superman told him to, and he does.

[siderealscribblings]

0 Years, 0 Months, 15 Days

Good news; the Sovereign didn't think Furina was crazy when she said her reflection told her to find him. Whatever enchantment had spoken to her had kindly filled him in shortly after he had "woken up" and promised him something that Furina might be able to return to him.

The bad news was that Furina had no idea what it was he lacked other than tact, social grace, manners, and fashion sense. Perhaps her fate was to teach a surly dragon how to at least act like a gentleman. 

"Explain to me why I need an overcoat and an undercoat," Neuvillette demanded from the other side of the changing screen.

"Because one's appearance often forms the base of a first impression," Furina sighed, glad that he had finally stopped defying her and put on a damn shirt.

"That's foolish," Neuvillette huffed, tugging a jacket over the top of the screen.

"Be that as it may, even Mondstatians are not so libertine as to walk around naked...outside of certain colonies, I'm told," Furina said. She had privately hoped that her new ally would be amenable to taking direction from her, but the monster that looked like a man had a temperament to match, questioning everything from Furina's choice in the coronation ceremony to the decision to move him into the Palais apartments across from hers. Why seemed to be his favorite word and Furina had learned early on that he was quick to sniff out a lie told to get him to shut up. Five days into her short reign and she was already receiving so much lip from someone who ought to be standing at her side and helping like he was supposed to.

How am I supposed to lead someone who won't be led…or even be fully honest with me? Furina thought, looking up from her book as Neuvillette stepped around the side of the screen, buttoning up a starchy white shirt to hide a row of blue and white scales. I dump all my secrets at his feet like Mirror Lady told me to and he won't even give me his real name!

It was getting hard to buy the "I don't remember anything concrete about my previous lives" excuse that "Neuvillette" trucked out, but calling him on it would invite too many inconvenient questions about Furina's own murky past. He clearly didn't remember how to dress properly, that much was clear; at least Furina retained an impeccable sense of fashion.

"I can barely move in these clothes," Neuvillette grumbled, scowling as a talon tore a button off his shirt.

"Thankfully sitting on a bench requires very little movement," Furina said, wondering if they made nail trimmers to maintain dragon claws. "Unfortunately your…lineage is very difficult to hide so I'm afraid you'll have to get used to neck to toe coverage."

"Or you can be truthful for a change and tell them you have enlisted the services of a dragon," Neuvillette replied. 

"Yes, splendid idea; let's publicly announce to the world that a Sovereign has returned!" Furina said, clapping her hands.

"Good; glad you agree."

"I was being sarcastic ," Furina said, rubbing her eyes. Intelligent as he was, the concept of double-speak either eluded Neuvillette or he pointedly ignored every joke or sarcastic quip from Furina as a matter of principle. She didn't know which explanation was more annoying.

"Deceiving Heaven means deceiving everyone. It's essential that we avoid unnecessary attention as much as possible and that means convincing everyone around us that I am an ordinary goddess and you are my ordinary subordinate , " Furina said with such certainty, despite not knowing how she knew such a thing. Whenever she thought back to her life before standing on the stage, staring at her own reflection, her thoughts would inevitably turn back to her mission at hand. A little voice told her that she didn't have time to wonder where she came from or how she seemed to know things that she knew; there was too much to do here and now, despite Neuvillette's endless line of questioning.

"And what happens when I exceed my mortal lifespan, unchanged by time?" Neuvillette asked, scowling at the gloves Furina foisted upon him. "Do we just lie until your mission is accomplished?"

"Yes, that is precisely what we are going to do!" Furina snapped, a migraine straining her temples. " That is the plan for now, and if you don't like it-"

Furina reigned her anger in, taking a deep breath through her nose to steady herself. "...are you going to cooperate with me, or aren't you?"

"I said I would," Neuvillette said, eyes narrowing at Furina. "Do you doubt my integrity?"

"I doubt you understand what cooperation means if your behavior over the past few days is any indication," Furina said, folding her arms and returning his glare. "You cannot undermine me in front of my subjects; I don't expect blind obedience from everyone I lead-"

"Only in matters of fashion, it seems," Neuvillette muttered.

"... but I would hope you understand that other humans will interpret your questioning as a challenge," Furina said much to Neuvillette's irritation.

"Must humanity read into everything for hidden meaning?" Neuvillette sighed, rolling his eyes. "A question is simply a question."

"That depends on how it is phrased and when it is asked and in what company it is asked," Furina explained. "And the wrong question at the wrong time will invite suspicion that we can hardly afford. So if you must raise an issue with me, I would prefer you do it in private."

Neuvillette's brow knit, clearly unhappy with having everything from his clothing to his speech constrained by a bossy little woman who didn't even have the power to pour a cup of tea. Once or twice he considered abandoning the charlatan to weave her lies on her own, but a faint tug of energy called to him. She had something of his; something he couldn't be sure killing her would release.

Even if killing Furina would grant him wholeness…cutting down someone whose worst crime was being annoying seemed wrong to Neuvillette. Not just wrong; unjust. And for someone who knew so little about himself, Neuvillette couldn't afford to disregard the tug of instinct.

"Fine…would you like these complaints to be written as well?" Neuvillette sighed.

"Was that genuine sarcasm I detected?" Furina chuckled, patting Neuvillette on the shoulder. "Worry not; I'm sure I'll come up with a solution that will see us rid of one another before too long. Until then…it's best you follow my lead."

Neuvillette's mouth twisted into a bitter scowl as he studied his reflection, every trace of draconic lineage concealed behind starchy linens and poofy neck-scarves. Best for who?

Read More...

Chapter 1

The Games of Divinity (Neuvillette Knows AU)

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[curiosityschild]

I've had a few conversations recently, mostly with castmates, where they are very surprised to learn that I am 30. They keep pegging me as early 20's. And like...it keeps making me feel uncomfortable instead of flattered. And I've been wondering why because I really don't think I've unlearned the whole "30 is old" thing THAT well despite my best efforts.

And I think it might be partially because I kind of feel like I've been tricking them? Like oh no these 20 year olds thought I was one of them but actually I am a gross creepy old person. And partially also because I'm afraid that they're actually calling my actions immature? Like you thought I was younger because I don't act like a "real adult"? I don't know.

Like they literally keep staring at me open mouthed that happened more than once. Stop doing that! It makes me feel weird :(

[fatelcved]

tbh i understand that character deaths have to happen occasionally, but sometimes a creator will go and kill a character prior to using them to their full potential?? and it won't even hit hard bc it's not a purposeful decision. it's not " it's so tragic that gary died before his time and this arc/story examines that tragedy and how it could have been avoided. " it's " it's so tragic gary died. woulda been more tragic if i put in more work. " like i'm not gonna be sad that you killed gary if you don't do the groundwork before/after. i'm gonna be mad bc you killed a character, and it was a wasted death bc nothing interesting or meaningful happened as a result, or it didn't even need to happen.

i dunno?? maybe people will disagree with me, but i feel like so many series and movies will fall into killing characters for shock value -- or maybe there's a reason, but they poorly execute it by rushing the story or failing to ever tell the story beyond " oh these two mean a lot to each other " without much detail. and that's so frustrating when you get attached to those characters and i'm sorry to rant all of a sudden asdfg i'm just feeling salty as heck over this rn (｡•́︿•̀｡)

[moonlit-orchid]

good evening to everyone except a certain few fucking anons

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but it is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.

[bi-writes]

simon being protective of his mail order bride scratches all the right spots in my brain.

mail-order bride

you're almost relieved when you hear the knock at the door. you've been a holding a tree pose for a few minutes too long, and the girl hosting the online yoga class is starting to fry your eardrums with her too-perky voice.

you're sweating bullets, and her hair hasn't moved a fucking inch out of her ponytail.

you mute the television, wiping your forehead before making your way to the front door. you open it with a sigh, not really knowing what you expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the average-dressed man standing on the steps there.

you blink, raising a brow when his eyes roam over you, and you realize suddenly that you're wearing workout clothes, which is showing off a little more than you'd like to some rando standing on your doorstep.

"uh..." you look around a little. "i'm sorry, can i help you?"

he smiles. it's a little unnerving.

"right, yeah, i'm starting a business around here, and i wanted to ask if you've been needing any help with any fixtures around the house. i'm giving a 50% discount if you give me a rating on google."

you open your mouth for a moment, frowning.

"uhm..." you shake your head, "sorry. we don't need any help right now."

"you live here alone? sometimes it's hard to spot when the electric's on the piss, y'know? need a keen eye," he laughs, coming up one of the steps. you shake your head again.

"no, thanks."

he's a wiry man, but he's tall (not taller than your husband, but taller than you). you step back a little and start to close the door. he comes up the steps. out of the corner of your eye, you see the cat slip out between your legs, hissing a little as the distance closes between you and the man.

"wait! can i give you my contact info? i don't have a card, but i can leave you my--"

the sound of simon's truck pulling into the garage gets both of you to look behind. simon doesn't even park all the way inside. he throws the truck door open, stepping out of it, and the man on your steps moves back away from you immediately, making his way off the little porch.

simon looks huge, more so than ever. his steps are heavy, boots hitting the ground like a warning bell, and he's wearing just a short-sleeved shirt that's showing off those glorious fucking arms. you have never doubted simon's strength, but he looks like he could flip a car with the anger that's leaving him in heavy waves. you're surprised that you are not afraid; you just know somehow that simon won't touch you.

"oi!" simon yells, and the man definitely understands he picked the wrong fucking house to be a creepy salesman at when his knees nearly buckle as he tries to walk away. "where the fuck do y'think y'r goin', you twat?"

you sigh deeply, not realizing how much you were shaking until you notice your hands trembling around the doorknob. you watch as simon catches the guy by his dirty jean jacket, nearly lifting him completely off his feet as he drags him towards the fence gate.

"hey! hey! i didn't do anything!"

"i saw ya, ya fuckin' arse, know exactly wot the fuck y'were doin'," simon growls, tossing him onto the sidewalk. he hits the pavement with a cry, holding onto his arm, and simon slams the fence gate closed before pointing at him accusingly. "'f i ever see ya anywhere near m'fuckin' house or even askin' m'wife for so much as fuckin' directions, i'll cut y'r bloody prick off, y'hear?"

you blink as simon comes closer, the cat retreating back into the house once they see him. he keeps walking, crowding you back into the house before he shuts and locks the front door. his chest is heaving, black t-shirt doing nothing to hide the puff of his chest and how large he makes himself when he stands up to other men. he doesn't even need to make himself larger; simon takes up enough space for two men combined.

"he touch you?" simon asks, his voice low. you see his fists clench, and you have no doubt that if you said yes, simon would go outside and paint the pavement a new color with the man's face.

you shake your head frantically, and he lets out a deep breath, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of your head and pulling you close.

he bends, pressing his masked forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathes in slowly. he rubs at the nape of your neck, soothing you, and you smile when he pulls away, giving him those big eyes that say thank you, thank you, thank you.

simon cocks his head, staring behind you, and you turn with him to see the cat blinking slowly at the two of you from it's place on the windowsill.

"should get you a fucking guard dog instead," simon mutters, pulling his mask off and kicking his boots into the corner. you smile as he walks away, trying to cool your warm cheeks with the backs of your hands.

doesn't he know you already have one?

[yoyomomiko]

omg you should definitely talk more about marking daisuke and the other way around 🙂‍↕️ i would love to mark him up

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: BITING; marking, hickeys, SUGGESTIVE (nsfw but not fully, so I guess mdni??), praising kink, small mention of dirty talking, small mention of bottom, submissive and soft dom Daisuke, cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I was so embarrassed to write this but like UGH I'm obsessed with Daisuke so badly rn it's insane😣 Also I'm so sorry this is kinda short and rushed😢 -> m.list

★MARKING HIM

You have to hold a hand over his mouth, he won't shut up. He's whining and making so many noises❗

He's not really that much into you marking him, but he surely won't mind one bit

Leave a trail of hickeys and watch him PANIC.

He's so scared that somebody (Swansea) is gonna notice, and then scold him and also possibly you too😔

Imagine the look on his face while he realizes you left marks

IMAGINE PRAISING HIM WHILE YOU'RE NIPPING AT HIS SKIN THOOO

"You're doing so good for me," "Shit, mm, uh-huh..."

Sitting on top of him in one of your rooms and kissing him, leaving dark red marks trailing from his neck to his chest

He doesn't know how to cover them up, you gotta help him🥲

Like, he's gonna have something around his neck and when Swansea asks about it he's like

"Oh, you know, fashion."

He asks you not to mark him too high up because he's scared😔

Overall he enjoys it, not too into receiving from you but if you like it then he's all for it🙌

★MARKING YOU

Boy oh boy😍

When I tell you to get ready, to prepare yourself fully, then do it. Take a break, stare at the invisible camera for a second and then go back to reading.

UGH Daisuke is so fucking IN FOR IT

He loves loves LOVES giving them to you, he's so into it, it boosts his ego to see you all marked up by him🙏

Will gently kiss your skin before completely BITING into you, leaving so many dark purple marks over your neck and shoulders

Thinking about sitting on top of the desk in the utility room while Swansea is having his lunch break, making out with Daisuke, his lips all over your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere (might write a fic about this)

If you let even the slightest noise escape your mouth, he's gonna take it as a "go on"

Bottom Daisuke this, Submissive Daisuke that, WHAT ABOUT SOFT DOM DAISUKE??

Imagine just cuddling with him at night and he just buries his face in your shoulder. You think it's a cute gesture until you feel a slight sting and realize he's nipping at your skin (also might write a fic about this)

He's gonna gently kiss the hickeys he left on you to soothe you, he's just sweet like that😋

If you like it, TELL HIM.

"Am I doing good?" "Yes, very good-"

You can barely even talk because he's digging his teeth into you so much

He's gonna ask if he's doing good in between kisses just because🫶

Did I mention he's not big on dirty talking? I mean, he does it accidentally sometimes, but he just cringes whenever he tries.

BUT HE'S BIG ON PRAISING SO😝

CALL HIM A GOOD BOY WHILE AT IT

Will also leave full on teeth marks, just a heads-up, he's a vampire❗

Overall he likes giving marks more than receiving

"It's not accurate, that's not how Daisuke would be!!" idc these are MY headcanons so shoo😠

★yoyomiko ★miko

[gloomwitchwrites]

Overheard confessions part 2? You over hear them confess to the team about how they love you and want to have an army of kids with you...or like a lot of dogs on a farm lol

Don't mind me, I'm just shrieking like a hyena over here. I am obsessed with the idea of a part two but from the opposite perspective. What happens when we hear the guys making the confession. I had way too much fun with this one. Just pure glee. Enjoy! (Find Part 1 HERE.)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, breeding undertones, suggestive themes, mild alcohol/smoking, fluff, implied sexual content, mild dirty talk

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You’re a mess, John.”

You clutch the manila envelope to your chest, coming to a dead stop just outside Captain Price’s office. The door is cracked, your hand pressed flat against the wood with the intent to enter. That flies out the coop. You’re glued to the spot, listening as Laswell continues to speak.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Care about my sleeping habits, Kate?”

Laswell snorts. “You look tired. What’s on your mind?”

There is a stretch of silence. You don’t dare breathe—don’t dare move. When Price doesn’t answer, you hear Laswell sigh. It’s not an annoyed sound, but one of pity. She knows what troubles him.

“It’s the secretary. Isn’t it?”

A secretary? What secretary?

You comb through all of them in the building. There are only a handful of you—maybe ten total.

“It’s nothing, Kate.”

“Just admit how you feel, John.”

Your hand drops from the door and crosses over your chest. The manila envelope crunches softly against your breasts as you squeeze it tighter.

“What do you want me to say? That I fancy the woman?” He scoffs.

“Yes,” replies Laswell. “It’s that simple.”

Your mind races. Of the ten secretaries in the building, there are maybe three—including yourself—that this could apply to. A blossom of hope blooms in your chest, a racing sensation of your heart palpitating. You shouldn’t wish for it, but for it to be you?

No.

“I’m her superior.”

This time, Laswell scoffs. “She’s not even your secretary, John. She’s mine, and I think you need to say something to her.”

Oh fuck.

It’s you. They’re talking about you.

“Really, Kate?”

“Really, John.” Laswell sighs. “Not to be crude, but maybe if she were getting laid, she wouldn’t hide my cigarettes when my wife tells her to.”

“Christ, Laswell.”

“No, John. Tell me how you feel about her.” He doesn’t. “I’m waiting.”

You hear a grumble on Captain Price’s end, then, “I want to make an army of kids with her. I want to wake up with her beside me and for her to be near when I sleep.” He pauses. “I like the way she throws her head back when she laughs. Her smile.” Then, softly, “I love everything about her.”

There is a tap tap tap of a shoe against linoleum, and then someone’s walking toward the door.

“That’s it, John. Just tell her how you feel and—”

The door opens wide, revealing you. Captain Price and Laswell both freeze. Price’s face goes from surprised to a dark shade of pink. Laswell’s shifts to a knowing smirk.

“Is that the file I asked for?”

“It is,” you affirm.

Laswell nods. “Hand it over to Captain Price. He needs to take a look at it first.”

“Laswell—”

“Goodnight, John,” she calls out, shutting the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

Price clears his throat, standing.

“I heard what you said,” you say quickly.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“I—”

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand.

Dumping the manila folder on the desk, you circle to his side. Price is perfectly still, watching you the whole time. What you’re about to do is bold.

Placing your hand on his chest, you lean in. His entire demeanor softens as he mimics your movement.

“You said you wanted to make an army of kids with me.”

“It’s one thing I want to do with you.”

Shifting, you inch toward the desk, propping yourself up to sit on top of it. It’s true, you do need to get laid, and why not with a man who is more than willing.

Price’s gaze lowers as you spread your legs.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"She's fucking gorgeous, mate."

"Is that all?"

With back pressed against the wall, you listen in on the conversation.

Kyle and Johnny’s voices carry in the small apartment. You linger in the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and dining room. They have no idea that you are home, listening in just around the corner.

“No,” comes Kyle’s voice. It’s not sad but strained, like he’s trying to form the right words but keeps stumbling over what to say.

Anxiety grips your stomach, twisting tight.

"She's everything I want,” says Kyle, this time sounding confident.

"Everything?" Johnny whistles and you hear the creak of a chair. "You looking to marry her?"

The twisting sensation becomes a clamp. A vice grip that closes your throat.

"If she'll have me," answers Kyle immediately.

Johnny chuckles. "You'll marry her and then what? Pop out an army of wee bairns? Adopt a cat and two dogs?"

“All of the above,” answers Kyle. “Or nothing at all. It’s what she wants.”

“Oh, aye,” replies Johnny. “That's a good answer."

The sudden seizing of limb and lung relaxes, returning you to the moment. Your heartrate speeds up, becoming a thundering thing that threatens to burst from your chest. Kyle may be your boyfriend but you never suspected that this is what he wants.

"When do you plan on proposing?" asks Johnny.

"Haven't thought that far," murmurs Kyle.

"Too focused on how you're gonna have that army of barins?" laughs Johnny.

"You wanker,” mutters Kyle, but you hear the smile in it.

"Just remember—”

You cannot hide any longer. It’s unbearable.

Emerging suddenly—and almost tripping over your own foot in the process—the two men go quiet, their gazes widening as you appear like an apparition before them. Between then is an open bottle of scotch and various containers of Kyle’s favorite takeout spot.

Kyle is out of his seat in a second, heading for you. He whispers your name, a soft thing meant only for you, and all your love comes rushing up to warm your cheeks and soften your insides.

As he nears, the words tumble from you. "You want a small army with me?" you whisper.

"You heard that?" he asks.

The next words you form are dangerous yet you say them anyway. "Do you want to start trying?"

You put every ounce of lust you can muster into those few words. Kyle’s bodily response is immediate. His shoulders straighten, and a hungry need enters his eyes. This man is about to drag you to bed and fuck you raw for hours.

"Johnny," snaps Kyle, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. "Time for you to go."

John "Soap" MacTavish

A tornado rips through your senses.

Did you hear Johnny correctly? Surely not.

"You don't understand, Simon."

Johnny is in the bedroom pacing around while he talks to Simon on the phone. At your current distance from out in the hall, it’s difficult to hear Simon’s response.

"You're balls deep in a different lass every week. Don't hardly know their names. And you're going to give me shit about this?"

A snort almost escapes your nose, revealing your location. Johnny isn’t wrong. Simon is a notorious slut among Johnny’s group of friends. There is always a different woman on his arm whenever they go out.

Johnny pauses before continuing. "I love this woman. I want a bloody army of bairns with her. Fuck, I'll take an army of animals if that's what she bloody well wants."

He sounds irritated, but you know it’s just his passion. Johnny can be hotheaded, especially when it comes to the people he cares about. Either that or Simon is giving him shit on the other end.

"I need your support, Simon." All is quiet, and then you hear Johnny’s amused snort. "You're always giving me shit, Lt." He chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow at brief.”

You slip around the corner and enter the bedroom. Johnny glances up from his phone, his mouth a wide smile upon glimpsing you. “Come here,” he says with a sultry purr, reaching out.

You go to him without effort.

Wrapping you up in his arms, Johnny kisses the top of your head. You tilt your face upward, going in for something softer.

"I heard you talking on the phone,” you murmur, accepting another kiss from Johnny.

"Did you?"

"You want an army of kids?"

Johnny's neck flushes pink. "I may have said that."

Your hug becomes intimate, hands gently caressing until you find the front of his sweatpants. Johnny groans into your mouth as you find him, lightly rubbing him toward hardness. It’s a tease of a touch. The moment he’s throbbing under your hand, you pull away, fingers toying with the strings of his sweatpants.

"You don't mind if we start now?"

Johnny's gentle embarrassment becomes a sultry glare. "Oh, aye. We have the rest of the day and all night to try."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"I want her, Johnny."

The pan of brownies you’re holding nearly go crashing to the floor. Simon’s words are a brick wall. You’ve been baking all day because it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself. The plan is to drop them off with Simon and let the boys devour them. Instead, you’re dumbfounded, standing right outside the door to the meeting room Price’s secretary told you to drop the sweets at.

“Who?” asks Soap absently.

When Simon speaks again, it is your name that falls from his lips. Yes, you and Simon are together, but you’re not together. This is fuck buddies. This is friends with benefits. This is…not a relationship.

Or so you thought.

But you’re at his place of work dropping off fucking brownies. The rest of his team call you by your first name. They expect you at functions when they all bring their significant others along. Yet you and Simon are not a couple.

Not officially anyway.

"Oh, aye?” asks Soap, his tone amused. “And does she want you?"

Yes. More than you know.

You’re fully aware that Johnny and Kyle give Simon shit about you. Not because they don’t like you—they adore you—but because they think Simon needs to put a ring on it. They aren’t quiet about it either.

But Simon has never been so forward with his feelings for you. He might tell you sweet things when his dick is deep inside you, but you’ve never heard him be this blunt.

"Don't care. She's mine, Johnny. I'll make sure of that." The mine is almost a growl, a possessive bite that sends a bolt of need to your core.

Johnny chuckles but there’s nothing condescending in it. He sounds…happy.

“Finally, Lt. Fucking finally!”

You hear Johnny enthusiastically smack Simon’s back—or shoulder—and then the man growls like he’s aggressively shaking Simon.

“You’re going to fucking crack my ribs, Johnny.”

“I’m just happy for you, Lt.”

You step forward, pressing your shoulder against the doorframe. They are still out of view, but you don’t want to reveal yourself yet.

“Finally going to make an honest woman out of her?” jokes Soap.

Simon snorts. “I’ll even make you an uncle, Johnny.”

“Me? I expect an army, Lt. Five mini-Riley’s running around.

“Fucking hell, Soap.”

Your cheeks are hot, and you’re standing out in the hall like an idiot. The last thing you need is for one of them to open to door and find you here.

Knocking to announce yourself, you open the door of the meeting room. They turn in your direction, but it’s only Johnny’s face that’s clear to you. Simon is wearing a balaclava, and the only part of him you can see are his eyes.

Johnny’s grin is devilish. “What’s that, love?”

“Brownies?”

He perks up. “Gaz is gonna flip his mug.” You hand them over and Johnny removes the foil on top. “I’m eating this entire pan.”

“Fuck off, Sergeant,” says Simon.

Johnny gives him a half-hearted salute before disappearing out the door, a chunk of brownie already shoved in his mouth.

“You just get here?” asks Simon, sauntering forward.

The soft sway of his hips is a tantalizing thing. You’re hypnotized. Locked in.

“No,” you whisper.

“No?”

“I—I heard you and Soap talking.”

Simon is inches away, his broad chest and shoulders seeming impossibly wide, almost boxing you in.

“What do you think?”

“You want me all to yourself?”

Simon’s voice is a growl. “You’ve always been mine. That’s never changed.”

You place your hand on Simon’s chest. “You promised Soap you’d make him an uncle.”

“I did.”

“And if I want to start right now?”

Simon leans in a bit further, his gaze burning like warm whiskey. “Then you should bend yourself over the table and lift that dress.”

taglist:

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[blockedbykei]

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

🏐 — tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: tsukishima has always struggled wrapping the stupid bandages on his fingers. the new manager seemed to know how, but his pride was too stuck up for him to ask help. luckily, you knew him too well.

— warnings: swearing, blood

🏐 —

The ball slams onto the squeaky floor, the synthetic leader creasing as it meets the shined court. Tsukishima smirks at his opponents’ quick glance at the rolling ball.

“Was that your best, King?”

“Shut up,” Kageyama sneers. Hinata forbearingly chases after the ball. The blonde smirks, adjusting his glasses.

His legs ache, though he didn't have the care to complain nor request to take a break. Testing his endurance was good—he still had limits to test, he still had so much energy to drain. He wasn't going to waste his time tending for the ache.

Something that he wouldn't mind wasting his time on though, was fixing the bandages around his ring and index finger. They were loosening up, untucked from one another. So he looked at Daichi, motioned to his fingers, and his senior's approving nod permits his body to exit the court and onto the bleachers.

"When was the last time you changed those, bruh?" Tanaka blurts. He rubs his hand on his shaved head, his sweat dripping off his temples. "That shit's dirty."

"Just this morning. I'm not unhygienic." Tsukishima bluntly replies. "It got dirty from the ball. Have you seen that thing? When was the last time you changed those balls?"

Sugawara sits beside him, his towel being patted on his forehead. "Two years ago, probably."

Tsukishima fiddles with the thin straps of his bandages, tucking it underneath the wrapped gauze, but it irritates him when it refuses to stick. So he tries and he tries again; from the court to the bleachers, he thinks. A person could only do so much trying.

"Hey, (l/n)!"

His head snaps towards your direction, seeing you enter with a bag full of refilled water bottles. He'd politely take the bag off your shoulders, showing chivalry to remove the image of his isouciant demeanor. But Daichi had already beaten him, as well as carrying the other two bags brought by Yachi and Shimizu.

His fingers absentmindedly twirl and twirl as he stares from afar. His heart pounds uncremeniously against hist chest, like the sound of continuous free spiking against the court floor. He dislikes the feeling of sudden emotions.

But when you were the end of those emotions, he'd bear his hatred.

And Tsukishima had been staring for too long that he hasn't noticed you approaching him with that kind, everloving smile. He doesn't return it.

"Kei," you softly greet. His first name, never given verbal privilege to say but somehow it just felt right for you to say it. "Struggling with that?"

"Hm? O-oh. Yes," his back straightens, forearm on his knee. You sit down beside him but not beside him. He feels like whining. "Can't get the stupid thing wrapped properly."

"I can help—" you offer.

"I got it," Tsukishima tucks his arm against his chest like it was something you'd steal from him. You laugh through your nose. "Not my first time doing it."

"Just let me help," you wrap your hand on his wrist and yank it towards you, the bandage seamlessly falling off his calloused palm onto your lap. Tsukishima feels heat rising to his ears— feels the obnoxious stares of his teammates smiling teasingly as they bounce the balls from their hands to the floor.

And so your soft fingers caress against his, your thumb in the apex of his palm as you hold his hand firmly. Tsukishima puts the weight of his hand on yours, watching your eyes meticulously follow the movement of your fingers wrapping the dirty bandage around his ring and pinkie finger.

"Your scar looks cool," you say. "Where'd you get that?"

"From, uh, Ushijima's spike during our match against Shiratorizawa." His voice falters with embarrassment. "He was strong. An idiot though," he adds the last remark to aid his ego.

"Wow, Kei complimenting Ushijima."

"Followed by an insult," he looks up at you through his eyelashes and feels like he could collapse on the spot. Suddenly the ache on his legs didn't bother him anymore, like they'd been healed by your essence.

You tuck the bandage in. "He may be strong, but he can't block like you," you take his hand in yours and lightly tap it with the other one before standing up. You pick up a waterbottle from your bag and offer it to him. "Drink up. Can't have you dehydrated."

Tsukishima takes the bottle from you. You smile at him, and the edges of his lips quirk up to give you a half-smile, like some sort of gratitude. And you walk away from him.

He could've done a lot more than just speak like he wasn't thankful for your assistance. Instead he watched you walk away, wistfully.

🏐 —

Stupid fucking fingers.

There's blood dripping on the asphalt ground. Tsukishima hisses, Hinata gasps and covers his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He had bowed so much his back could break. Tsukishima didn't care, he only wanted to shove his entire fist up Kageyama's laughing ass.

Blocking balls was one thing. Blocking Hinata's spike, however...

"Idiot," he says lowly, though loud enough to enlighten Hinata of his disdain. "Shit, could you be careful next time, Shoyo?"

"What's going on?" You exit the gym, locking it behind you. "Is that blood?"

"Yes! Because this Pipsqueak thought we were on some real match. Spiked it at me when we're only three feet apart!"

"Calm down, Kei."

And then he did. He did calm down. His chest went back to it's steady pace as he clutched his hand, the blood's flow weak. You walk towards him and take his hand in yours, then you drag him to the locker room.

"Please don't tell me your scar opened."

He could laugh at that sentence, then again not everyone knows everything. He shakes his head and rubs his nose. "Just a wound from one of my fingers."

"Okay, sit here." He sits on a chair as you reach for the first aid kit.

Tsukishima likes you.

Straight to the point, he admits it to himself that he likes you, and he's proud of that. He could never admit that to anyone else though. Maybe it's because you were nice, and he couldn't bring himself to be mean to you and if he ever was, you put him in his place. Maybe he likes you because you're beautiful. Not just pretty, but beautiful. And you were skillfull at bandaging his fingers. That hit a special spot in his heart.

You sit on the desk in front of him and he offers his hand willingly, placing it on your thigh. You dabbed the antiseptic covered cotton on his bleeding wound. Tsukishima barely hisses from the pinching pain. Instead, he looks at you from the scratched lens of his glasses.

You look at him, laugh a little, and push his glasses up his nose.

Tsukishima blushes.

"Be careful next time, Kei," you advice, placing the cotton aside and start bandaging up his wound. "You're the smart one in the group. They could all go to shit if you get injured."

"Eh, I have you to heal me," his words slip past his lips before he could think about what he would say. His eyes widen a little. And his blush, could it be from embarrassment as you noticed his reaction, or could it be from the way you smile at him and massage the lines in his palm as a retort.

"You're cute," you raise a brow, tucking the bandage in.

"You wrap my bandages all the time." He puts his hands on his lap. And you still sit there, in front of him, on the desk. "You're my little healer."

"Is "little" an insult or?"

Tsukishima laughs. He laughs. Then he takes your hand and plays with your fingers, his fingertips tracing every ridge, every bump of your hand. You watch him as he does so, feeling yourself smile bigger and bigger at every second.

So he takes that chance to lace your hands together. You both blush, looking away from one another.

"Take it as an insult," he finally says. "Healer? Don't take it as an insult. I'll be calling you that from now on, though."

You roll your eyes, jumping off the desk. "Okay, Kei."

You both leave the locker room, hands still together, and his bandage still intact.

🏐—

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[whisperofwonder]

Continuation of this

fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou

You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.

"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.

Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.

"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!

"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"

"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.

You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.

"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.

Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.

"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."

"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."

"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.

"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."

You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.

There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.

"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.

"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.

"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.

"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."

You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.

"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."

"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."

He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.

"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.

"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."