#you know how this was supposed to be a banter

[tinylilacbun]

Request!- papa!JJ teaching little!reader how to defend herself by..fighting, but daddy!john b stops him bc he doesn’t want his little girl to be violent in the future

"Show me what you've got, bun." JJ encourages you, holding his hands flat up in your direction.

He's been teaching you some self defense the past 30 minutes, just in case him and John B might not be there to protect you, despite spending every possible second with you, you never know what can happen.

The thing is, you're little right now and don't see the reason why you're supposed to hit your papa, especially since John B always tells you that hitting is bad and that you shouldn't resolve to violence because him and JJ are there for that matter.

You frown a bit at JJ, lightly smacking your fist against his palm.

"C'mon, I know you have got more strength than that." He teases. "Let's go over it again. Hit, Hit, then duck, 'kay?"

"M'kay..." You mumble before hitting his palms a bit firmer and duck down when he slowly swings his arm towards your head.

"There! Just like that, you're doing good." He smiles, getting you into a light headlock to ruffle your hair, making you whine.

"What's going on here?" John B asks as he enters the room, running a hand through his bed hair as he just got out of bed.

You smile brightly and go over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your body go slack, feeling him quickly snake his arms around you to keep you up. "Papa s'teaching me to fight."

John B glares at the blond, who is quick to defend himself. "Ah, correction, I'm teaching her self-defense."

"We talked about this, bro."

"Yeah, and I told you that it's just for the worst case scenario-"

As they keep to banter, you detach yourself from John B, walking over to where your bunny plushie fell onto the ground, standing back up straight you yelp in surprise when you feel a pair of arms wrap around from behind.

"Jay, I really think you shouldn't-" John B warns him but JJ suddenly groans, abruptly letting go of you again. The brunette chuckles as he sees him holding his hands to his crotch. "Tried to warn you, man."

"Shit-" JJ grunts in pain, flipping him off subtly.

John B stops laughing as he sees the guilty look on your face and the way you nibble on your nails anxiously, clearly scared you did something wrong.

"Hey, c'mere, it's okay." He coos, stepping closer to you to pick you up, letting you wrap your arms and legs around him. "Nobody's mad at you. He had it coming. Right?"

"Oh my god...huh? Yeah, I'm- I'm fine, bunny. Good move." JJ hisses, flashing you a reassuring smile as the pain slowly fades again, partly limping over to press a kiss to your cheek.

[rizzmura]

under your skin; the first impression

enemy!niki x fem!reader

warnings: strong language, mild sexual tension, suggestive themes, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, light teasing/flirting, angst, heated banter, emotionally charged moments

w.c.: 2.5k

chapter one synopsis: niki walks into your life like he owns the place. he’s cocky, self-assured, and somehow always knows how to push your buttons. what starts as harmless teasing soon escalates into a rivalry that neither of you can escape. but there’s a thin line between hate and something else you’re trying hard not to acknowledge.

you had heard about him before you met him. everyone had something to say about nishimura niki, and none of it was particularly glowing to you. he was the kind of guy that had a reputation for being difficult, cocky, and loud. he had this charm, a swagger about him that you couldn’t ignore. his confidence radiated from every word, every action. and if you were being honest, it annoyed you. everyone had their limits, and niki seemed determined to find yours.

before he even stepped into the lecture hall, you had already made up your mind: you were going to keep your distance. college wasn’t supposed to be about dealing with someone like him. it was supposed to be a place to focus on your future, to get your degree, and leave. you weren’t here for any distractions.

but of course, niki didn’t seem to understand the concept of “quiet.”

he burst into the lecture hall like a hurricane, his loud voice announcing his entrance before his body even fully filled the doorway. he was talking to a friend, animated and expressive, as usual. his presence immediately drew attention, and you could feel the collective sigh of the room when he took the seat right next to you, without even a glance in your direction.

you tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. everything about him was distracting. his too-loud laugh, his exaggerated gestures, the way his energy seemed to fill every inch of space in the room. you could almost feel the way his presence pushed against your own, like an electric current you couldn’t escape.

niki seemed to have no concept of personal space. or maybe he just didn’t care.

“hey,” he said casually, looking at the papers in front of you. “you look like you’re actually paying attention. i should’ve sat next to you.”

you shot him a quick, disinterested glance, silently wishing he’d just leave you alone. “great,” you replied flatly, focusing your gaze on your notes, trying to ignore the way his eyes followed you as if he was trying to figure out who you were, like it was some kind of game to him.

he wasn’t deterred. of course, he wasn’t. “you know, i heard this lecture is a waste of time. i only came because the syllabus said there’s a quiz later this week.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “how convenient for you,” you muttered, still not looking at him, but you could already feel a little tickle of irritation creeping up your spine.

niki grinned, completely unfazed by your flat response. “i take it you’re not a fan of this place, huh? you’re a bit too serious for college.” his tone was playful, but there was an edge to it, a hint that maybe he wasn’t entirely joking. or maybe he was, and you were just reading too much into it.

you glanced at him, your annoyance rising. “i’m here for the degree. not here to entertain you.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your sharp response. “oh, come on, you’re no fun. you gotta lighten up sometimes, y’know? college is all about enjoying the ride.”

you frowned, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “well, maybe i like my ride with fewer distractions. ever think about that?”

his smile only widened, clearly enjoying this little back-and-forth. “you know, i like a challenge.”

you didn’t know why, but you felt your temper rising. maybe it was the fact that he seemed so effortlessly charming. maybe it was the fact that he didn’t seem to care at all about your attempts to ignore him. either way, you couldn’t stop the sharp edge in your voice when you snapped back.

“well, good for you,” you gritted out. “i don’t need your advice.”

niki’s eyes lit up as if he’d won some small victory. “oh, come on,” he said with a mock pout. “i’m just trying to be helpful.”

“keep your ‘helpfulness’ to yourself,” you snapped, doing your best to ignore the rapid beat of your heart. “i don’t need your advice.”

but he was relentless, and you could feel his presence grow closer. he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low as though it were a secret only meant for you.

“wow. that’s intense. i didn’t realize you hated me so much.”

“i don’t hate you,” you gritted out, your tone tight with restrained frustration. “i just wish you would leave me alone.”

niki leaned forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. “if i left you alone, how would i have any fun?”

you stared at him, incredulous. “seriously? you think this is fun?”

he shrugged, his carefree attitude only serving to irritate you further. “maybe for me. definitely for you.”

you clenched your jaw, already regretting the decision to sit next to him. this wasn’t the first time you’d encountered someone like him—people who thought they could talk circles around you just to get under your skin—but niki seemed to have a particular talent for it. and what bothered you the most was that, despite how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

as the lecture droned on, niki kept up his quiet commentary. at first, it was just casual comments—little jokes that no one but you could hear, the occasional nudge of his elbow against yours. you tried to stay focused, but every time your mind started to wander, niki was there, right next to you, almost like he was baiting you into conversation. it was as though he knew exactly how to push your buttons. how to make you uncomfortable.

you weren’t sure how to handle him. on one hand, you resented the way he seemed to have this easy, effortless charm that made people laugh and draw attention. on the other hand, there was something strangely magnetic about him. something that made you feel like you wanted to get to know him. despite yourself, you couldn’t seem to shake the pull. it frustrated you, made you angry, and left you feeling confused.

by the time the lecture was over, you were beyond frustrated. you had never been more relieved to hear the bell ring. gathering your things in a hurry, you stood up, ready to get out of the room and away from niki. he didn’t even seem to notice the way you were practically rushing to leave.

but as you turned to walk out of the lecture hall, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder. you spun around, fully prepared to tell him off again, to let him know that you weren’t interested in whatever game he was playing.

“hey,” niki said with a grin, standing in front of you with an annoying cockiness that made your blood boil. “don’t be mad, okay? i was just messing with you. no need to look so pissed.”

you tried to push past him, but he stepped in your way. “seriously, you’re not even going to talk to me after what i said? i thought we were bonding.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “bonding? no, we were arguing. and i don’t plan on bonding with you anytime soon.”

niki just laughed, a sound that only grated on your nerves further. “that’s a shame. i think we could make a pretty good team if you didn’t hate me so much.”

you just shook your head and walked away, trying to ignore the sudden flicker of something in your chest. it wasn’t attraction, you told yourself. it was just... irritation. the guy was infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

you sat alone in the cafeteria, poking at your food with a fork, lost in thought. niki's words echoed in your mind, his smirk haunting your every thought. you hated how easily he got under your skin. you hated even more that you couldn't seem to shake the way he made you feel.

as you sat there, lost in your frustration, niki appeared once again. he slid into the seat across from you, his presence immediately overwhelming. you looked up, ready to snap at him, but the words died in your throat when you saw the look in his eyes. this time, his expression was different, still cocky but with an edge of curiosity.

"so, what's your deal?" he asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor. "my deal?"

"yeah," he said, tilting his head slightly. "you seem like you've got it all figured out. what's your story?"

you hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "i'm just here to study. get my degree and move on."

niki raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "come on, there's gotta be more to it than that."

you sighed, feeling the weight of his gaze. "fine. i'm here to get my degree and hopefully land a good job. that's it. nothing more, nothing less."

he nodded, seeming to consider your words. "fair enough. but you know, college isn't just about the degree. it's about the experiences, the people you meet, the things you learn outside of the classroom."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his clichéd response. "thanks for the lecture, but i've heard it all before."

he smirked, clearly enjoying your sarcasm. "just thought i'd give you my two cents."

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "you're something else, niki."

he leaned back, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. "oh, by the way, i'm having a party at my place tonight. you should come."

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. "a party?"

"yeah," he said, nonchalantly. "it's going to be fun. a good way to take a break from all the studying."

you hesitated, your mind racing. the last thing you wanted was to spend more time with niki, especially in a social setting where he would undoubtedly be the center of attention. but something in his gaze made it hard to refuse. "i don't know…"

"come on," he urged, leaning forward again. "it'll be fun. besides, you need to lighten up, remember?"

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his persistence. "i'll think about it."

"that's all i ask," he said with a wink, standing up from the table. "party starts at eight. don't be late."

with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting there, your thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. why had you even considered going to his party? you had no reason to. yet, a small part of you was curious. what was it about niki that made it so hard to stay away?

as the day went on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on your studies. niki's invitation lingered in your mind, a constant distraction. you couldn't deny that there was a part of you that wanted to go, to see what he was like outside of the lecture hall. but another part of you was wary, hesitant to let your guard down around him.

by the time the evening rolled around, you still hadn't made up your mind. you stood in front of your mirror, staring at your reflection, trying to decide what to do. finally, with a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door. maybe it was a mistake, but there was only one way to find out.

when you arrived at niki's house, you could hear the music thumping from the street. the party was already in full swing, people milling about in the front yard, laughing and talking. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and walked up to the door.

niki was there to greet you, a wide grin spreading across his face when he saw you. "you made it!"

you nodded, feeling a bit out of place. "yeah, i did."

"come on in," he said, gesturing for you to follow him. "let me introduce you to some people."

you followed him into the house, the noise and energy of the party washing over you. niki led you through the crowd, introducing you to his friends, making sure you felt included. despite your initial reservations, you found yourself relaxing, enjoying the atmosphere.

as the night went on, you noticed that you were the center of attention for many of the guys at the party. they approached you, striking up conversations, complimenting you, and vying for your attention. you couldn't help but feel a bit flattered, even as you tried to keep your focus on the casual conversations.

niki, meanwhile, seemed to be watching you from a distance. though he continued to laugh and joke with his friends, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered in your direction, observing every interaction you had with the other guys. his expression remained unchanged, but there was an intensity in his gaze that you couldn't quite decipher.

at one point, you found yourself talking to a guy named taeyong. he was charming and funny, and you enjoyed his company. you laughed at one of his jokes, and he took the opportunity to move a little closer, his hand lightly brushing against your arm. out of the corner of your eye, you saw niki stiffen, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

you glanced over at niki, catching his eye. for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—jealousy, perhaps? but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual cocky smile. he raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "enjoying yourself?"

you turned your attention back to taeyong, but you couldn't shake the feeling that niki's eyes were still on you. as the night went on, you noticed other guys approaching you, each one trying to win your attention. niki continued to watch from a distance, his presence a constant reminder that he was never far away.

eventually, you excused yourself from the group and stepped outside for some fresh air. the cool breeze was a welcome relief from the heat and noise of the party. you leaned against the porch railing, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.

"you seem to be quite the hit tonight," a familiar voice said, breaking the silence. you turned to see niki standing there, his eyes fixed on you.

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. "just making new friends."

"looks like you made a lot of them," he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

you couldn't help but smile at his comment. "jealous?"

niki laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat. "me? jealous? please."

"good," you said, meeting his gaze. "because there's no reason to be."

he stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking. "maybe not. but it's hard not to notice when every guy in the room wants to talk to you."

"maybe they're just being friendly," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"maybe," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "but i can't help but think it's more than that."

the air between you was charged with tension, the unspoken words hanging in the balance. you wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless.

after a moment, niki reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand, craving more of the contact.

"i'm glad you came tonight," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"me too," you replied, your voice just as quiet.

as you stood there, lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you and niki. he was still as infuriating as ever, but there was something about him that made it impossible to stay away. you didn't know what would happen next, but one thing was certain: your life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

the weeks after the party felt like a strange blur. there was a shift in the way you saw niki, but it wasn’t one you had the luxury of making sense of. every encounter with him only made it more complicated. you hated how much he occupied your thoughts, how he made you feel things you weren't prepared to feel. but the tension between you was undeniable, a pressure that lingered like a storm waiting to burst.

it wasn’t long before you saw him again, this time outside of class. you were walking across campus, lost in your own world, when you saw him—niki, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, looking entirely too comfortable in a way that made your blood boil. you didn’t want to deal with him, not today, not after everything that had happened at the party. the memory of his smirk, his casual disregard for your boundaries, had lingered longer than you cared to admit.

but niki was impossible to ignore. he spotted you immediately, and his trademark grin spread across his face.

“hey, there you are,” he called out, voice loud enough to make a few passersby glance in your direction. he pushed off the tree and walked toward you, his confident swagger somehow grating on your nerves.

you stopped in your tracks, your heart beating a little faster, a mix of irritation and something else you weren’t ready to acknowledge. “what do you want, niki?”

“just wanted to talk,” he said with a casual shrug, but there was something in his eyes—a glint of mischief, maybe even challenge. “you know, we didn’t get to finish our conversation last time.”

your stomach dropped, remembering how that last conversation had gone. the anger, the frustration, the way you’d tried so hard to ignore him because of what you were feeling. it hadn't worked. it still didn’t.

“there’s nothing left to say,” you snapped, taking a step back, trying to keep your distance.

he stopped in front of you, not backing down. “really? feels like there’s plenty to say.” his voice was still playful, but there was an edge to it now, like he was daring you to say something. to do something.

you clenched your fists at your sides, the urge to snap at him overwhelming. “you think this is all some kind of joke, don’t you?”

niki’s expression shifted slightly, his grin faltering for just a second. “i don’t think it’s a joke. but you sure act like you think i’m some kind of joke.”

the words stung more than they should have. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he continued.

“you think i’m just some cocky guy who doesn't take anything seriously,” he said, voice low now, more intense than before. “maybe you're right. but you’re not exactly making this easy, are you?”

your chest tightened, and a sharp retort slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “maybe i wouldn’t be so ‘difficult’ if you’d just stop messing with me. if you’d just leave me alone for once.”

niki’s eyes flickered, just for a moment, with something—hurt? disappointment? you weren’t sure, but it made your breath catch in your throat. you couldn’t afford to feel bad for him. not now. not after everything.

he took a step closer, narrowing the space between you. “you think i enjoy this? the back-and-forth? the constant tension between us?” his voice was quieter now, almost hushed. “you think i want this?”

“i don’t know what you want, niki,” you retorted, your voice cracking with the rawness of the frustration you’d been holding in for weeks. “you don’t make any sense. one minute you’re annoying the hell out of me, and the next, you’re acting like you actually care. it’s impossible to figure you out!”

his face hardened, his eyes darkening. “and maybe it’s impossible for you to admit that you care too.”

the words hit you like a slap, leaving you breathless. you wanted to argue, to say something that would push him away, but the truth lingered in the space between you. you did care, in some twisted way, and that terrified you.

“i don’t care about you,” you snapped, more forcefully than you intended. “i don’t want you in my life. all you do is make everything harder.”

niki’s jaw clenched, his expression tightening. “is that what you really think of me?” he took another step forward, invading your space, the air between you crackling with tension. “that i’m just a problem for you? that i’m just some guy you can push away whenever it suits you?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. he was too close. his presence was overwhelming, suffocating even. and there was something in his eyes, something that made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

“i don’t know what you want from me,” you finally said, your voice shaking with the effort to keep it steady. “you don’t make any sense, niki. you think this is some game, but it’s not.”

“fine?” niki laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. it was bitter, frustrated. “you think i’m the one treating you like shit? you think i’m the one making this miserable?”

you stepped back, your mind reeling from the realization that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did—caught in this endless cycle of misunderstanding, of playing games neither of you were willing to admit.

��i don’t know what you want from me,” you repeated, feeling your emotions slip out of control. “i just want to be left alone.”

there was a long, painful silence. then niki’s voice broke through the tension, rough and raw. “i want you to stop pretending like you don’t care. i want you to stop pretending that i’m the problem when you’re just as much a part of this mess as i am.”

his words were like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t stop the way your chest tightened, your heart racing as everything you’d been trying to suppress came bubbling to the surface.

“i don’t need you, niki,” you choked out, every word feeling like it was ripping itself from you. “i don’t need this. i don’t need you messing with my life, making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“you think i’m the one messing with your life?” his voice rose, a mixture of anger and hurt in his words. “you think i’m the one making this hard? i’m not the one pushing you away every time you start feeling something.”

your eyes burned, the anger and hurt so strong that it made you dizzy. “i’m pushing you away because you don’t respect me. you don’t respect my boundaries, niki. you think this is some game, but it’s not.”

the words were out before you could stop them. and as they hung in the air, something in niki seemed to snap. his eyes darkened, his mouth tightening into a thin line.

“i’m not some game to you?” his voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with a fury you hadn’t expected. “well, i’m not some toy for you to just push around either.”

the fight had exploded, raw and brutal, and neither of you could stop it. the emotions were too strong, too tangled, and now you were both caught in a moment where there was no turning back.

《》

tag list (if your name is crossed that means i cant find your blog)

@ramenoil @strawberrynull @si3rren @rikidaze @yangjungwonnie @hehabi @ijustreallylike2read

[misshoneyimhome]

Happy New Year! I don’t know if requests are open for Willy if so may I request these prompts that I came across “Behave.” // “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.” like if she goes down on him during an online interview or gaming session with his friends. Love your inexperienced reader x series!

First off, Happy (very) belated New Year to you too, babe! 🥂✨ I know this one took a little time to come together, but I truly hope it was worth the wait! 🙏🏼💕

I mean, how can we not absolutely adore our teasing, formerly inexperienced reader? 😉 She might have started off innocent, but let’s be real—she knows exactly how to wind Willy around her little finger and get both of them exactly what they want. And honestly? We love that for them 🔥😏

Happy Valentine's day 😜

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, 18+ smut: oral sex (m receiving), light spanks, praise, slight dom/sub play, pet names, sex toys (feather, metal object, magic wand), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, edging, unprotected vaginal penetration, overstimulation, cum inside - I believe that's all ...

word count: 3K

➼｡ﾟ

Distraction Tactics I Inexperienced!Reader x William Nylander ✐☆

The evening was supposed to be uneventful—just William unwinding after a long, hard-fought win, his body still loose with exhaustion as he settled into the couch with his controller in hand. The dim lighting of the apartment cast soft shadows over his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline, the way his damp hair curled slightly at the ends from his post-game shower. He smelled like clean soap, faint traces of his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the fresh scent of the laundry-soft t-shirt draped over his broad frame.

You sat beside him, curled into the corner of the sofa, watching as he effortlessly bantered with his teammates over his headset. His amused voice filled the room, light and teasing as he chirped one of the guys over a botched play. His Swedish lilt thickened when he was relaxed like this, his signature laughter loud and vibrant.

You should have been satisfied just being here, enjoying his company after what felt like endless days of stolen moments—brief kisses before bed, fleeting touches as you passed in the kitchen, whispered promises that never had the time to be fulfilled. But you weren’t satisfied. Not even close.

Because even though he was right next to you, even though his knee occasionally bumped against yours when he shifted, he still felt out of reach.

And you were done waiting.

Dressed in one of his oversized tees and a pair of shorts that barely qualified as clothing, you slowly shifted closer, feigning interest in the game he was so focused on. His strong legs were spread in front of him, his posture relaxed, both hands gripping the controller.

It was too tempting.

You started slow, almost innocent—your fingers barely grazing over the fabric of his shorts, tracing lazy patterns along the muscle of his thigh. At first, he didn’t react, too locked into whatever strategy his team was discussing. But the moment your hand wandered just a little higher, just enough to brush against the noticeable bulge beneath the soft material, his breath caught.

He knew what you were up to.

Still, he remained composed. His voice didn’t falter as he responded to whatever nonsense his teammates were spouting, but you didn’t miss the slight shift in his posture, the way his fingers curled tighter around the controller. Encouraged by his lack of protest, you pressed your palm more firmly against him, feeling the growing heat beneath his shorts.

Then, his voice dropped—just for you.

“Behave.”

The word was low, a quiet warning that sent a spark of arousal shooting straight through you. His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, the promise of consequence laced between those syllables. He didn’t look at you—he didn’t have to. The dominance in his voice, the control threaded through his words, was enough to make your breath hitch.

And maybe you should have listened.

But the way his jaw clenched, the tension coiling in his muscles, the way you could practically feel the restraint in his body—it only made you want to push further.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you let your fingers glide further, tracing the outline of his hardening length through the soft fabric of his shorts. William exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening on the controller, knuckles whitening as he tried to focus on the game in front of him.

You wanted to unravel him.

You wanted to see how long he could hold out before he snapped.

And judging by the way his entire body had gone taut beneath your touch, it wouldn’t take long.

So, you didn’t stop.

Slipping off the couch, you seductively moved between his legs with practiced ease, settling yourself on your knees before him. William’s arms caged you in for a moment as he gripped the controller, his focus still on the game—at least, that’s what he wanted you to think. The way his breath hitched, the way his thighs tensed beneath your hands—it was clear you had his full attention.

Your fingers worked deftly at the waistband of his shorts, and he slightly lifted from his seat helping you tug them down just enough to free him. His cock was already thick and heavy in your hand, twitching slightly as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking lazily. The heat of him, the weight of him in your palm, sent a pulse of need straight to your core.

William’s entire body tensed. For the first time, he faltered in his game.

“Fuck—” He cleared his throat quickly, trying to cover up the slip, shifting in his seat like he could shake off the sensation.

A wicked smile curled at your lips. You leaned in, your breath ghosting over his length before dragging your tongue slowly along the underside of him, teasing, tasting. His hand jerked on the controller, a sharp inhale the only reaction he allowed himself.

Then tossing the controller aside, his hand instinctively found your hair instantly, fingers threading through the strands, not pulling—just holding, as if grounding himself.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear over the voices in his headset.

But you knew he didn’t mean it. Not really.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, your tongue swirling just the way you knew would drive him insane. His free hand clenched into a fist against the armrest of the sofa, his entire body coiled like a spring, struggling to hold onto control.

“Nylander, you good?” Kniesy’s voice crackled through the headset.

William exhaled sharply, forcing out a laugh that was far too strained to be convincing. “Yeah, yeah, just—uh—distracted.”

You hummed around him in response, letting the vibrations ripple through his length. He groaned, quickly muting his mic as his hips bucked involuntarily.

His hand tightened in your hair, guiding you, but he wasn’t pushing—not yet. He was still trying to maintain some semblance of control.

You decided to test just how much control he really had left.

Pulling back slightly, you flicked your tongue over the head, teasing him, before taking him in again—deeper this time, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach. He was hard as steel, his restraint hanging by a thread, his breath coming in ragged pants as he fought to keep from thrusting up into your mouth.

“You wanna play this game?” His voice was thick, rough, tinged with dark amusement. “Fine. But you don’t get to finish until I say so.”

A thrill shot through you at his words, at the command in his tone, and you redoubled your efforts. Your lips stretched around him, your tongue swirling, your fingers gripping his base.

His thighs tensed beneath your hands, his hips rocking ever so slightly in time with your movements, his body betraying just how close he was.

Then—just when you knew he was teetering on the edge—he yanked you off him with a sharp tug on your hair.

Your lips parted in protest, your eyes wide as you looked up at him with surprise, your mouth swollen, saliva glistening on your lips.

His jaw was clenched, his pupils blown wide with something dark and consuming.

“Oh no, we’re not done just yet,” he panted, his breathing uneven, his grip on your hair still firm. “You don’t get to tease me and expect me to let you off easy.”

His thumb swiped over your lower lip, his blue eyes burning into yours.

“Bed. Now.”

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling between your thighs at the promise in his voice.

You barely had time to scramble to your feet before he was standing, his hands on your hips, steering you toward the bedroom.

“You wanted my attention, älskling?” His lips brushed against your ear as he nudged you onto the bed. “Now, you’re gonna see what happens when you beg for it.”

And from the glint in his eyes, you knew he was going to make you work for it.

The anticipation coursed through your veins, leaving your body thrumming with restless energy as you lay stretched naked out on the bed. The silk of the blindfold draped over your eyes, its cool fabric heightening your awareness, amplifying every sound, every shift in the air. Your wrists were bound above your head, encased in soft leather cuffs that were snug but not constricting, fastened securely to the headboard. You had no way of knowing what would come next.

You had wanted this—no, you had begged for it.

William’s voice, deep and unwavering, cut through the silence. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.” The weight of his words sent a new wave of heat rolling through you.

A warm, calloused hand trailed leisurely up your thigh, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The contrast between his gentle touch and the restraint against your wrists sent a shudder up your spine.

“So obedient,” he murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I like you like this. Helpless and just waiting for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingertips ghosted over the peak of your breast, skimming over your sensitive nipple. The fleeting contact had you arching toward him, seeking more, only to be met with a sharp smack to your inner thigh.

You gasped.

“No whining, älskling,” William chided, his tone deceptively soft. “You wanted me to push your limits, didn’t you?”

You nodded fervently; your body already wound so tight with need that every brush of his skin against yours felt electric.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Good girl.”

You felt him move away, the rustling sound of something being pulled from a drawer making your stomach flip with excitement. Then, something soft and feathery traced along your skin, ghosting over your collarbone, your stomach, your inner thighs—everywhere but where you needed him.

“Such pretty skin,” he mused, dragging the feather along your ribs, making you arch in frustration. “I could keep you like this for hours.”

Your whimper only encouraged him. And then… the feather was replaced by something firmer, smoother—ice-cold metal. You gasped at the stark contrast against your overheated skin, your body trembling beneath his touch.

“That’s my girl,” William murmured, clearly pleased by your reactions. “So needy. So desperate.”

Your legs tensed as the object—what felt like a metal bullet—was slowly pressed against your slick folds, not pushing in, just teasing. He dragged it over your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you jerk against your restraints.

“Patience,” he murmured, his other hand pressing down on your stomach to keep you still. “We’re just getting started.”

You felt the weight of the mattress shift beneath you, and then the cool sensation vanished, only to swiftly be replaced by warmth—his mouth. William’s tongue flicked against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your thighs trying to clamp shut, but his firm hands kept them spread.

“Oh, you’re already dripping,” he hummed, the vibrations sending another pulse of pleasure through you. “I think you can take some more.”

But before you could beg for any sort of release, he pressed something against your entrance—the magic wand. The instant vibration had you arching off the bed, a strangled moan escaping your lips as the intensity overtook you.

“Fuck, Willy—”

Another smack landed on your thigh. “Behave.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he dragged the wand along your folds, alternating between barely-there touches and devastating pressure. Every nerve in your body was alight, the pleasure building impossibly fast.

And just when you thought he’d finally let you come, he pulled the toy away, leaving you gasping, your body trembling with frustration.

“Hmm… you don’t get to come yet,” he whispered, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “I want to see you beg for it.”

You tugged at the cuffs, your wrists straining against the leather. “Please,” you panted, your voice desperate. “Please, Willy, I need it.”

He chuckled darkly. “You need what, älskling? My cock? My tongue? The wand?”

“All of it,” you confessed, your voice wrecked with need.

A pleased hum vibrated against your skin. “Such a good girl.”

The wand returned, but this time, something else joined it—his fingers. He pushed two inside you, curling them just right, his other hand guiding the wand directly onto your clit. The combination had you seeing stars, the pressure in your core winding tighter and tighter.

You were right there, on the precipice, so close, when—

It stopped.

A sob of frustration tore from your throat. “William!”

Another smack—harder this time. “I said behave,” he reminded you, his tone sharp. “Or I’ll keep you on edge all night.”

Your whole body trembled with the effort of restraint. He was relentless, drawing you to the edge again and again, only to cruelly pull you back before you could shatter.

By the fourth time, tears were slipping from beneath the blindfold, your body burning with unsatisfied pleasure.

“I said, I don’t want to hear excuses anymore,” William murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You’ll take what I give you, won’t you?”

You nodded frantically, swallowing down a sob. “Yes, yes, please—”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come,” you begged, your voice cracking. “I can’t take it anymore.”

William groaned at your desperation, his patience snapping. “That’s my girl.”

With that, he removed the wand, replaced by the blunt tip of his cock. He didn’t give you a second to adjust—he simply thrust into you with one powerful stroke, bottoming out instantly. The fullness, the stretch, the sheer force of it had you screaming his name.

His hands gripped your wrists hard enough to bruise as he set a brutal pace, his thrusts deep and relentless. The restraint kept you from touching him, from grounding yourself, and it only heightened the overwhelming sensation.

“You take me so fucking well,” he growled, his voice tight with restraint. “My pretty little plaything.”

The pleasure was unbearable. With each thrust, each drag of his cock against your walls, you felt yourself unravelling.

“Come for me,” he ordered, reaching between your bodies to press his thumb against your swollen clit. “Now.”

And this time—this time—he didn’t stop.

Your orgasm slammed into you with blinding force, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your vision went white, your cries echoing in the room as your walls clenched around him, milking his length.

William let out a deep, guttural groan, his rhythm growing uneven as he chased his release. The way you had pushed him earlier, teasing him with your mouth, had left him on edge, his control slipping faster than he would have liked. But it didn’t matter—this had never been about lasting longer. It was about teaching you a lesson, about showing you what happened when you played with fire. And judging by the way you trembled beneath him, he had done just that.

So, with one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep, his grip on you tightening as he spilled inside you, his voice rough as he groaned your name against your shoulder. His body tensed, lingering in that moment of bliss before finally stilling against you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound filling the room was the ragged symphony of your breathing, bodies still pressed together, flushed, and spent. Slowly, William leaned down, his lips trailing soft, languid kisses along your jaw, the tenderness a stark contrast to the intensity from moments before. As he shifted, his hands moved to unbuckle the cuffs, his fingers gentle as he massaged your wrists, soothing the slight redness before finally pulling the blindfold away.

Your body still hummed with the aftershocks of pleasure as you lay there, boneless beneath him. The room was quiet, save for the slowing rhythm of your breaths and the faint rustling of the sheets as William settled beside you. His warmth enveloped you, grounding you, and when he reached up to brush damp strands of hair away from your face, his touch was impossibly gentle—such a stark contrast to the way he had just unravelled you completely.

“You okay?” His voice was softer now, full of tenderness, laced with something deeper—concern, adoration, reverence.

You nodded weakly, still sinking into the haze of bliss. “That was…” You trailed off, struggling to find the words, your mind still foggy from the intensity of it all.

A deep chuckle vibrated through his chest, and he pressed a lingering, feather-light kiss to your lips. “That was amazing, älskling.”

A soft smile curled at your lips, your heart swelling at the endearment. You nuzzled against him, savouring the warmth of his skin, the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm as he pulled you closer.

William leaned back just enough to take in your wrecked state—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, the rise and fall of your chest still slightly uneven. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, but beneath it was something softer, something undeniably full of love. He brushed a knuckle gently over your cheek, his expression shifting from smug to completely enamoured.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched at the sheer sincerity in his tone, at the way his fingers traced delicate patterns along your bare skin, like he was still memorising every inch of you. You tilted your face up to meet his gaze, your own eyes shining with warmth. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice carrying all the emotion you couldn’t quite put into words.

He smiled then, a real, genuine smile that made your stomach flip, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before tucking you securely against his chest. His fingers lazily traced up and down your spine, soothing and affectionate.

“Stay here,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick with sleep and contentment. “I’ll get us some water in a minute. Just wanna hold you first.”

You sighed happily, melting into him, your body fitting against his like you were made for each other. “Okay,” you murmured, already half-drifting.

William’s arms tightened around you, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before he let out a soft, tired laugh. “You’re gonna be sore tomorrow.”

You giggled sleepily. “Worth it.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and fond. “Yeah. Definitely worth it.”

[selfless-desires]

[ penny for one's thoughts ] ; for steve .

can be drunk , could be sober but still needing to just get things off of his chest ; maybe he doesn't feel comfortable with the idea of " burdening " people with what's weighing him down && is in need of fresh air , so it's upon the shore that he just talks to what he assumes is just the wind , and doesn't realize a certain radioactive monster is lurking . . .

‏‏‎ ‎ Running never made a lick of difference . It would still be there , that persevering sense of dread he's been trying to avoid since that night in November― looming like a shadow , biding its time , lurking just around the next corner no matter how often Steve would remind himself it'd be alright . ' Can't lie forever now , can you ? ' It'd be an instance like many before where the young swimmer couldn't settle for the night , body achin' from exhaustion but his mind ... it'd keep him pre-occupied . He'd toss & turn in his sleep while he dreamt of monsters without faces , sharp rows of teeth meant to scrape flesh from bone . Tall , pale figures that'd chase him through the dark tunnels with no indication of where to go . He could still hear their screams , friends he swore to place his life on the line for , kids that have grown onto him like siblings , people that have become the family he's yearned to have but knew better than to ask for . ' It was all just a nightmare , ' he'd repeat like a broken record , just another fucked up fabrication of his mind that'd haunt him throughout the days after― wouldn't be the first nor the last time , has become a strange routine of sorts where he'd find himself wandering the night alone . Following the ghostly-pale stretch of gravel would the man hum to the distant beat of radio , the only source of noise beside the occasional owl , crickets that have come out of their burrows to play their distinctive notes . It’s a surprise to him , how unsteady his Nike's felt on the ground , flask sloshing in hand while he aimlessly stumbled towards the lake . Only remembered taking a few draws on whatever the hell’s inside , though he hasn’t got much in his stomach other than that leftover pizza he's found the other night . The lake’s close , close enough to hear , to smell … been a while since he's last gone near a large body of water on his own like this , that sharp stench of chlorine now replaced by the earthy scents of nature― is it something you can walk into , or is it deep from the get-go ? A short sharp plunge , or having to wade in even when every nerve in your body is telling you not to ? Steve feels like he’s on the edge of one or the other , legs rooted in place as that familiar feeling returns : the one he's been trying to get away from all this time now returning tenfold , leaving him breathless , petrified . Harrington inhales long and hard through his nose , bracing himself . He took a step forward , then another , and there’s a soft ripple― a gleam of something shifting in the depths , causing his attention to be drawn to the murky water . He sees his reflection then , eyes worn by lack of sleep staring back at him like two orbs of the void , strands of hair standing all over the place instead of the picture-perfect state they were known for . A hand met the surface to distort the face that's been there before , a quiet hiss escaping Steve's breath due to the chilling cold ... the pain’s just a shadow of what it could be , though . Secondary to the heavy weight of his shoulders , alcohol all poison still , working its way down in his system .

" You know , I ... I never really considered myself a hero , " He'd say to no one in particular , eyes drawn to the dock near the shore . " I just ... I dunno , I thought― I thought I could be a hero , if I tried hard enough , " a pause , throat feeling tight he'd swallow . " ... I'm not― I know I'm not , " he'd say in the form of a breathless whisper , talking to himself . Look at you , even now , hesitating to do something so simple . With a frustrated shake of his head Steve tipped the flask back , downing the last of the booze while he marched down the path . Headed for the dock would he pause inches away from the edge , planks creakin' beneath his feet with every step , mocking him , legs feeling uncertain as he stared into the abyss― depths that threatened to swallow him whole . Thoughts would linger at the back of his mind , Barbara Holland vanishing without a trace right outside of his window― a world of slow-moving vertigo beyond the brilliant white & turquoise glow of the pool ... it would feel dark , sinister after learning about the beasts in the shadows . He'd remember the day they brought Will Byers' body out of the dark waters , the day he fought for his life while flesh-like vines dragged him below surface , beyond a gate between their world and one far more sinister . Heaved breaths would escape him as the jock stood frozen in place , hands shaking by his sides , legs threatening to give in beneath his weight― ' Sometimes you just ... have to let go , y'know ? ' Such words echoed in his mind like reminders , a wound still fresh , a person who's died all too soon without a proper burial . ' Let it all out , ' Steve draws in a breath with the whole of his chest and tips his head back, hands folding into fists by his sides— ' let the world hear you . ' He howls , mournful and stupid : a coyote yowling at night , a dog left on its own . It echoes off the murky surface , swallowed by the vast emptiness before ... sharp breaths escape him once his voice dies down , looking like he’s going to do it again― and he does , rougher this time , more of his voice in it , stretching louder and hoarser— like he’s trying to make it hurt— like he’s trying to get rid of something— until he’s folding at the middle with the force of it all , the cry buckling as his voice gives way . The torn-off sound rackets off the trees like a cough , gone , like it never happened . Silence replaced with the dim thump of music from the car up above would Steve heave for air , throat feelin' hoarse , abused after such extensive use ... and with a defeated sigh he'd finally give in to exhaustion , fell forth on his knees , fingers still grippin' the flask he's brought ... Maybe he could rest , if only a little ... lulled by the faint ripples of water below .

‏‏‎ ‎

[inkskinned]

she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let

and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment

and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.

and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment

and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?

to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.

and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.

you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.

[lizzybeeee]

the language being stripped of lore specific terms made it so much worse in retrospect. fr tho Davrin calling Eldrin "Uncle" Eldrin instead of Hahren, like it's okay Davrin you can use elvish around my Rook I won't judge :( I haven't romanced him does he at least call you vhenan??

I could get the use of 'uncle' if Davrin was trying to explain it to Rook who was not elvish (since all elves in this game seem to just instinctively know elvish) since it would make sense to make a connection between the dalish role and familial role for an outsider:

Rook - "Who are we seeing?" Davrin - "Hahren...Uncle Eldrin." Rook - "Hahren?" Davrin - "It's elvish - they're storytellers and caretakers in the clan." Rook - "So...not your uncle." Davrin - "Close enough. He raised me."

Does Davrin call you 'vhenan'? I could have sworn he did in the final love/petting over clothes scene but I did a look up because I couldn't remember...apparently its just my wishful thinking - but don't quote me, maybe it's only in a specific dialogue option? :(

That fact that I can't recall it off the top of my head is telling -> Solas calls Lavellan 'vhenan' so much its burned into my brain, the same with other endearments from other romances. I played as a shadow dragon elf so I was hoping to be able to say 'amatus' - didn't get to do that either.

Which is one reason that the romances in this game really fall flat for me. I loved how different characters had different endearments for you, it made it feel more personal! Bull with 'Kadan', Dorian with 'Amatus', Solas with 'Vhenan', Leliana with 'My Love', and Sera had a 'pick your own' that wonderfully reflected her character!

I assume they were trying to make the language more accessible for new players, but it was never a barrier for me in any of the other games? If anything it always made me more interested/curious in what was going on when I encountered a phrase that I didn't understand. It added to the idea that these characters were from different nations and cultures - they had their own languages and phrases that reflected that -> the world felt bigger because of it!

Even if I didn't understand something, the voice work was always so stellar that even if the exact meaning wasn't understood, I got the intent that it was being said with.

Best examples being Solas and the Arishok - I understand certain words and phrases of each language, but I'm not a translator like some very talented people on this website. Even if I didn't get what was being said I absolutely understood the intent from the emotion and nuances in voice work. Top tier example is Solas and Sera in DAI:

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe. Sera: I bet, right? Who wants to think about stepping on dead elves. Solas: Din elvhen emma him? Sera: Oh, you felt that one.

The way that line was delivered was incredible. Didn't understand a word but you could absolutely feel the repressed fury of what Solas was saying - his disgust at what Sera said. Once again, Gareth David-Lloyd coming in with incredible voice work! <3

It's such a strange choice to just...remove that immersion - to have so little of it in-game. Does it require extra work to make certain that the characters language reflects their history and culture? Yes! But what it adds is so immense to the world. I can't imagine not having Solas call Lavellan by elven endearments or having Andrastian characters not say 'Thank the Maker!' or 'Maker's breath!' It was cool worldbuilding! Just like how we say 'oh my god' there's a Thedas equivalent that communicated the very same idea!

Hearing lore specific words and phrases makes me know that I'm playing a Dragon Age game. Playing DATV which severely lacks in those words and phrases made me realize I'm sitting on my swivel chair and looking at a computer screen.

[mysteriousxgirls]

Aida couldn't help but laugh, the playful glint in her eyes dancing as she turned toward him. "Oh, I wasn’t planning on measuring just yet," she teased, her tone light but with a hint of anticipation. She took a slow, deliberate step closer to him, her gaze lingering on the meticulous details of his outfit, the way it clung to his frame so perfectly. "You know, you clean up well," she said, her smile softening as she looked him over, admiring the sharp lines of his tailored look and the way the scent of his cologne seemed to linger in the air, adding an undeniable allure to the space.

Her gaze lingered a moment longer, before she flicked her eyes back to the apartment with a thoughtful look. “But as much as I like your style, I’m still certain I could make this place feel more... lived in.” She grinned, crossing her arms over her chest, giving him a playful but sincere look. "Just a little bit more cozy, you know? But I suppose we'll get to that... later," she said, her voice low, hinting that it wouldn't take long for her to make this place feel like home—her home. She was already imagining it in her mind, the way the light would hit a few soft throws and a strategically placed plant. A room that balanced his cool, calculated style with her warmth. It would be perfect.

Aida’s eyes softened as she met his gaze, the playful edge in her expression shifting to something warmer, more genuine. She exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head a little. “You’re right,” she said, uncrossing her arms and stepping toward him. “I guess we can always tweak the decor later.” Her heart fluttered a bit as the reality of the moment settled in. A date. She still couldn’t believe it. The idea of spending the day with Leo, of it being something more than just the usual back-and-forth banter, had her feeling both excited and a little uncertain. She’d never been one for these sorts of things, but with him... well, it just felt different. It felt right. She gave him a warm smile, a slight tilt of her head as she said, “Yeah, let's go. I'm curious how today will go.” Aida’s voice held a playful teasing, but the butterflies in her stomach betrayed her cool exterior. She wasn’t used to this feeling, to going out on dates with someone who made her smile without even trying. She briefly caught herself lost in the thought of what was ahead, but quickly brushed it off, eager to focus on the here and now. As she glanced over at him, she allowed herself to relax a little, her excitement showing in the way she smiled more openly. “I’m actually really looking forward to this,” she admitted softly, the thought of their first date finally sinking in. There was no turning back now.

Leo leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, smirking as he twisted his watch around his wrist slightly. “Oh yeah?” His voice was lazy, teasing. “Didn’t realise I needed a consultant for home decor.”

The apartment was a study in contrasts—modern yet raw, sleek but filled with personal touches that hinted at something deeper. The exposed brick walls, rich with character, bore remnants of a life lived in quiet rebellion. A large, vintage subway station sign was mounted on one wall, its faded letters spelling out the name of a stop long forgotten, adding an edge of nostalgia to the space. Warm pendulum lights hung at varying heights from the ceiling, casting soft golden pools of light across the polished wooden floors. A sleek, upright piano stood in one corner, its glossy black surface reflecting the dim lighting, while a couple of guitars rested casually on stands beside it—evidence of restless hands and late nights spent lost in melody. Leo glanced around the space, taking it all in—the carefully curated balance of style and sentimentality. It was clean, sophisticated—his. But as he looked back at Aida, standing there with that knowing smile, he had a feeling she wasn’t entirely wrong, “You planning on moving in already?” he asked, arching a brow. 

With that, he turned and disappeared into his bedroom. A floor-to-ceiling wardrobe with glass-fronted doors dominated one wall, the soft glow of warm interior lighting highlighting the meticulously arranged clothing inside. Rows of neatly hung shirts and perfectly folded knitwear lined the space, a selection of polished boots and shoes sitting beneath them. Leo reached for a fitted black jumper and slipped it on, subtly hugging the definition of his arms and chest. He paired it with black trousers, the tailored cut sharp against his frame, and secured them with a black leather belt. He reached for a pair of leather shoes, slipping them on with effortless precision. Stepping toward a sleek, dark dresser, he slid open a drawer, revealing a collection of jewellery—rings, chains, and small boxes of neatly stored piercings. He selected a few, carefully adding more to his ears. He ran his fingers through the tousled strands, sculpting the messy sides and effortless quiff into place, the faint mist of hairspray settling like a whispered promise. Reaching for his cologne, he pressed the bottle to his pulse points, letting the rich notes of cedar-wood and spice bloom against his skin. One last glance in the mirror—sharp gaze, a hint of mischief curling at his lips—then he swept a hand through his hair, a smirk lingering as he turned away. The scent of him drifted in his wake, warm and intoxicating, a ghost of his presence before he even stepped back into the room. "Alright sexy, let's go before you start measuring the place" he announced, gliding along the apartment to reach his coat rack where he opted for his leather jacket.

[lloydfrontera]

my biggest gripe with the manhwa rn is that they made javier more of an asshole than he is in the novel and then took away most of the scenes where we see him being kind and soft with others.

javier can be an ass, he is a brat and he's especially annoying when he's with lloyd, but above anything else he is kind and loyal and selfless and good. i cannot emphasize enough how good javier is. he's the kind of person who cannot see someone in trouble or danger and do nothing about it. he's the kind of person who would sacrifice his life for total strangers and no hope of any reward. he's the kind of person who can't even enjoy a lavish party without feeling guilty because he'd much rather help people in need with that money.

he's so fucking good, lloyd is a little annoyed by it because he keeps getting dragged into life-threatening situations because javier just won't stop helping people they don't even know. mind you, lloyd is also endeared by this and would not want him to change but god can it be frustrating in his endeavor to keep them both alive.

there's this particular scene that i just. i'm so sad it was cut. where javier is helping around the refugee camp, going without sleeping and eating so he can focus on helping as many people as possible and then he spots a little kid that got lost on his way back. so he decides to help him.

and he's so gentle with this kid.

Javier walked over to the kid and called him. The flustered boy looked up. Javier strove to put on a warm smile on his face. "Are you lost?" “...” The boy nodded, his eyes all wet. Javier carefully stroked the boy's head. "I think I can help you with that. Why don't you let me help find your tent?" suggested Javier. “...” The boy nodded again. "But why didn't you eat the food? It's going to get cold. Are you not hungry?" "I am… hungry," the boy finally said. But what he said next caught Javier by surprise. "But I won't eat it," said the boy. "Why not?" "My mother is hungrier." "Is that so?" "Yes." “...” Javier wondered why this kid came out to take the food when he had a mother. There must be a reason, he thought to himself. He held out his hand. "I will hold the tray for you." "..." "I won't spill it. I promise." "Okay..." Javier took the tray and wrapped the boy’s hand with his own.

like. god. javier is not a naturally warm person. he's very reserved and stoic and sometimes outright cold, but he still tries so hard with this kid. because he knows what it's like to be him. he knows what it's like to be a child and be scared and hungry and without a home. and he remembers how much it meant for a kind adult to reach out a hand to him and help. and he wants to be that to others too.

everything he does, he does because he genuinely believes it's the right thing to do and therefore his obligation. and even when it doesn't come naturally to him, like being warm and gentle to a child, he still tries his best to do so.

and like that wasn't enough, when they finally find the kid's mom, javier finds out she's blind. recently blinded actually. that she used all her strength to get her child to safety and now she has to depend on him to take care of them because she can't do it anymore. her blouse is smudged with porridge.

so javier kneels down and explains who he is, why he's there and that he wants to help. he lifts up a spoonful of food and slowly and carefully starts to feed her himself. she's a complete stranger and javier doesn't hesitate one second to do this for her.

this is who javier is!! this is who he is at his core!! he's kind and he's selfless and he's above all else good!!

if your audience can't imagine javier comforting a child, then you failed your audience. you missed the point of his character.

[originalcontent]

I can't find art of my ship anywhere so I GUESS that means I have to make it myself, here are some doodles.

[froschli96]

you know, i always find it really funny when dudebros complain about syndicate and odyssey being too "jokey" or not "taking its characters seriously" or whatever…

like, did y'all collectively sleep through "it's-a me, mario!", "i meant besides vaginas", ezio inventing the latte, bartolomeo's... just... *gestures vaguely* entire character, etc?

like, it's fine to have preferences of course, i myself prefer a more serious and grounded tone, but these are usually the same people who tout the ezio trilogy as "peak assassin's creed", call ac1 a glorified tech demo and hate on connor for being "too serious and boring", like? make it make sense!

[poisonvdhonvy]

Sterling lets out a theatrical sigh, shaking his head as if he's carrying the weight of the entire bloody world, or at least another one of Sahana's culinary adventures gone pear-shaped. "Rubbish taste, is it? Well, that explains why I fell madly in love with you and married you, doesn't it?" he quips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he dodges the inevitable swat aimed at his arm. She's got that look about her, the one that says she's weighing whether he deserves a proper bollocking or if she should just let him dig his own grave. Either way, he's being a right cheeky git and loving every moment. "Poison me is a bit dramatic, darling. I'd say it's more of a slow, calculated attempt at manslaughter through questionable cooking." He leans back, arms crossed, pretending to ponder the possibility while secretly admiring the way her eyes flash with indignation. "Suppose that's one way to get shot of this marriage. Just keep feeding me whatever that last thing was. What did you call it? A stew? Looked more like something off a crime documentary on BBC." He's grinning like a Cheshire cat now, absolutely besotted with the way her cheeks flush when she's cross with him.

Her defense of her cooking is as relentless as her determination to improve, and he adores every stubborn inch of her, though he'll keep that bit to himself, thank you very much. "Proper food, you say? That's rather bold, considering last week's 'curry' nearly burnt through the bloody plate." He's taking the mickey, of course, but there's something utterly endearing about the way she keeps trying, about how she insists on feeding him even when the results are properly dodgy. He eats every last bite, because it's made with love, because every disaster of a meal is another chapter in their story. When she tries to maintain a stern face after his apologetic kiss, he knows he's in proper trouble. "Oh, come off it, love, you can't be serious." He tilts his head, playing innocent while his heart swells with affection. "A kiss not enough to make up for a bit of honest truth? You're breaking my heart here." Her pout is almost convincing, but he catches the way her lips twitch, the way she's fighting back a smile that makes him fall in love with her all over again.

He tuts, shaking his head. "The sofa's a bit harsh, innit? Especially when I've risked life and limb eating your cooking like a proper devoted husband. Thought that earned me some brownie points." He tightens his hold just enough to keep her from wriggling away, pressing another tender kiss to her temple, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. "Tell you what, I'll make it right. We'll order from that curry house you fancy, and I won't breathe a word about how it's light years better than whatever you were planning to subject us to." He grins, anticipating another slap for that one. She'll pretend to be properly miffed for a bit longer, but he knows his wife. Knows she loves their banter just as much as he does. Knows that, despite all the teasing, there's nowhere else in the whole bloody world he'd rather be than right here, with her, taking the piss out of each other over burnt pasta and half-raw chicken, completely and utterly in love.

The way he dug at her cooking skills had her attempting to glare, but getting praise for dealing with him knocked down her defenses. His comment about being blinded by love and poor judgment because of her cooking deserved every bit of sass she could muster. "Love has nothing to do with your poor judgment—clearly you just have terrible taste in general." His teasing about the "worse" in their vows including her cooking earned an eye roll. A warmth spread through her at his roundabout way of acknowledging their marriage while still giving her grief. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me. Including the part where I try to poison you with my cooking." She'd never master cooking, but his willingness to suffer through each attempt meant more than he realized. Not that she'd tell him that—his ego was big enough already. The fact that he kept trying her disasters spoke volumes though.

"You really think that's better? At least I'm trying to feed you real food, even if it doesn't always work out." Sure, most of her attempts ended up either burnt or somehow both overcooked and raw at the same time, but she kept trying. One of these days she'd make something edible—probably. Maybe. When he pulled her close and kissed her after mocking her takeout defense, she tried keeping her stern expression. His quick defense about joking didn't help his case. "You really think a kiss will get you out of insulting my cooking? And for your information, takeout involves actual food made by professionals, not boxed meals with questionable ingredients." The way he teased her about getting twisted up over his comments just made her want to smack him, even as her lips twitched with amusement. He always knew exactly how to get under her skin while making her laugh at the same time. When he captured her lips again, she pulled away with a pout. "Too late, you've already hurt my feelings, when all I'm trying to do is be there for you. You're sleeping on the sofa tonight," she said, fighting back a smile as she tried wiggling free from his hold.

[birdblorbo]

I'm back on my bullshit, here's the Loser's Club roller-skating

I went skating with my best friend and their younger sister the other night and it single handed threw me back into Loser's Club headcanons so here we fucking go.

Long Post

Bill: He's definitely skated with Georgie before and while he hasn't skating in a while (RIP Georgie I love you) it didn't take him long to get back into the motions of it (Just like riding a bike, pun partially intended). He loses his balance occasionally but always manages to stabilize before he's really in an danger of falling.

Stan: He's a natural. His first time skating he struggled for around five minutes and then all the sudden could skate as though he went every weekend, no one can explain it. Bill and him spend most of the time catching while they skate and matching each others pace. Bill will go check on someone if they fall while Stan pretends not to know them.

Richie: He's really good for some reason??? You'd think he'd be flailing around and falling constantly but he's the only one who can do those fancy turns (Where you put your feet in a triangle, idk man but I can't do it) and skate backwards (if you can skate backwards I hate you I can never figure it out). He likes showing off but in the process trips over children that fall while he's not looking.

Eddie: He can't skate and he's made about it. He is like a newborn deer on an icy road. He desperately grabs onto whatever loser is closest and refuses to leave the wall unless they let him hold onto them. Richie (and occasionally Stan while he skates by) keeps making fun of him and hallway through Eddie gets fed up and goes to sit out until Mike finally convinces him to try again and sticks with Eddie for the rest of the night.

Mike: He's not a pro but he's definitely not bad. He enjoys just slowly going around listening to the music the DJ plays. He's very careful of avoiding young children especially the ones who like to zip around the rink really fast (Honestly the children who are good skaters are more dangerous you don't see them coming and they're unpredictable. At least the kids struggling you can tell where they're trying to go) He's the first to notice if one of the Loser's is sitting out and always goes to sit with them even if it's just cause their feet or ankles are hurting.

Beverly: She likes to go fast. As soon as she's comfortable on her skates she is going around as fast as she can until she falls, knocks someone over, or is asked to slow down by a worker. She's also the first one to get bored and will inevitably drag someone with her to get food (most likely Eddie who was already sitting out and will complain about how gross the food is while proceeding to get probably the worst thing he could've gotten).

Ben: He struggles for the entire time he is there but is determined to be able to skate by the end. He falls the most out of anyone but swears he does not need to hold onto the wall and refuses the Loser's help. Good news! he does eventually get it. Bad news, he gets it down five minutes before closing.

[dwtolos]

started watching another home makeover show and it hit me once again how much I want an AU where George and Sapnap are the hosts of a 'siblings getting their own rooms' show (they compete on which room suits their respective kid best) and Dream is one of the cameramen who ended up commenting out loud about something so he ends up being a faceless fan favorite. George does flirt with Dream a lot. Sapnap is very tired of it. They also compete about which room Dream would like the best, which is not the point of the show but in their hearts it is.

[foxgloveinspace]

this is hella random but-

if you ever want to info dump about the call of duty guys (ghost and soap i think? are those call names? soap is weird lol) please do! that ship has started popping up more and more in my feeds and now i am thoroughly intrigued. mostly because yes give me more ships with everyone suffering ptsd, but also i had no idea call of duty had any sort of plot line or recognizable characters?

i’ve played it only a handful of times and it always just seemed to me like a “create a character then join a server and shoot people” kind of game i didn’t think it had any story lol

but yeah. pls fill me in if you so desire :) i am so curious

I’m the wrong person to ask, cause I haven’t played the games yet😔🤣.

I own a couple of them, but I haven’t played yet just cause… last year I was in a weird place with video games really, is the only explanation I have. The campaigns (the plot parts) are not too long if you wanna watch them on YouTube (I also haven’t done that,,,,,, I should do that if I’m not gonna play the 2020s games, just cause I know that people where Not Happy with the last game, but I should freaking play the ogs cause they are RIGHT up my alley oof).

There’s a couple things you gotta know, if you wanna get into to it: There’s two different series of Modern Warfare, the og, which came out 07, 09, and 11. And then the remakes (which is what got the fandom So Big), which is from 2019, 22, and 23. They are, the same story told differently, and they are Very Different. The characters have very different personalities depending on the series.

(This is why I tag things as ghostsoap, or 09 soapghost so I can keep track of the different characters lol).

Ghost and Soap are their callsigns, yeah. It makes the ship names fun though! (Ghosts first name is Simon, Soap’s is John (Ghost calls him Johnny, so the fandom runs with calling him that lmao)).

Ghost wears a mask, and doesn’t have a canonical face clam! Which is really cool to me, cause we get so many different versions of Simon from the fandom🖤 and also, masked characters make brain go brrrrrr.

I am mostly in it for the fic, and there’s tones of good fanart. Not to say I don’t know anything at all, cause I have read the fandom wikis/synopsis of the games (though I’m a little rusty on my knowledge,,,, again I do want to play the games, I just.. wasn’t in a video game mood all last year). I’m just… sometimes info dumping is hard.

But yeah. The fic is freaking good. Like, I was looking for military themed romance novels the other day and I legit couldn’t bring myself to start any cause I’m worried it won’t live up to ghostsoap🤣🤣🤣.

I was gonna give some recommendations, but I uhhh…. I have realized I mostly bookmark the good smut, and only have a couple fics that aren’t smut, but they are SO ANGSTY🤣🤣🤣. And then one long fic, but it’s ghostroachsoap (roach is a player character from the first mw2).

Gosh. What can I say about ghostsoap…… they are black and red coded characters??? (Not Actually, but in the fandom way. Ghost is black, Soap is red. I don’t know if that’s even still a fandom thing lmao).

I…. I don’t know what else to say, haha.

[mister-eames]

Anyway, thinking about formative OTPs from your youth slash childhood, yknow, the ones before you even know what shipping or fanfic is, and how they are not so much the blueprint for subsequent OTPs but the first thing that makes every nook and cranny in your brain go ding ding ding !!!!! and in a world of contrived media it makes your heart swell and bellow: that's love!! that's chemistry!!!

and suddenly it's been twenty years and it's a friday night and you come to an abrupt understanding of why the fics you're reading now make you feel like you're 12 years old again and discovering shipping for the first time - because maybe you weren't watching or reading the thing for a ship but your heart stops traffic all over again, points, and says: that's love!!! that's chemistry!!

[713-4th-ward-g]

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