#Why in His name did he think this was a good idea?

[robinismywifesworld]

Ms. Manager

Saja boys x Fem! Reader

Summary: The Saja boys can't help but be enamored by their dumb and pretty manager.

Warning: Possessive! Saja boys, tw.death (not reader or any of the saja boys), dumb! reader, oblivious! reader, crybaby? Reader, a bit suggestive I guess?, might be incorrect grammar and spellings, probably more.

Author's note: Bear in mind that this is my first post here on tumblr, pretty new to this because I usually post my stories on Wattpad. I could write how they met or another part of this but I need some ideas, only if you end up liking this one though. I practically wrote this on a whim. I did not proofread this lol

[Last name] [Your name], a name most popular uttered by many people, a name who could turn many heads at the direction with just at a simple mutter, a name that could break a cold person's exterior, and lastly, a name that could easily steal the hearts of the upcoming Korean boy group the Saja boys.

The Saja boys were currently at their own dance rehearsals because they can't exactly steal fans if they don't look great, sing great and dance great, would they?

Jinu lets out an exasperated sigh as he stared at the group of demons, glaring daggers at the other four demons who just can't get the dance right. "We're meant to jump in sinc at this part." He said, crossing his arms as Baby Saja rolls his eyes from behind Abby, thinking their leader wouldn't be able to see. "Why you!-" the dark haired male was about to stomp over when the door opened.

The five males immediately straightened their postures at the sight of her.

[Your name].

Their very own manager.

Standing there with a bright smile plastered on your pretty face as you held the lyrics of their song Soda pop in hand given to you by Jinu.

"Ms. Manager, good to see you." Abby gives out a little wave, shirt riding up to show a bit of his skin and toned body. "You're late. Again."

It wasn't a secret to the five of them that you were admittedly... not that great of a manager, even though they don't have much experience of how a manager actually acts but they just don't want to get rid of you. Not when you looked at them so prettily that they can't help but want more of you, definitely not when you smelled so sweet that they just want to get closer to you just to smell you, and definitely not when you touch them as if they were made of glass (and they weren't, but to them, you clearly are).

Before they met you, you were in need of a job and well... you had a very unforgettable first meeting with them that they just have to keep you to themselves.

"I'm sorry, the landlord upped the expense of the rent." You said, giving them an apologetic look as you handed them each a plastic bottle of cold water. "And he wouldn't exactly leave me alone..." You added, unbeknown of the eyes glowing yellow at the mention of the bastard who wouldn't leave you alone when you turned around to fix the papers.

Romance hums, stepping closer to you. "We did offer that you could stay with us," He voiced, placing a hand on your waist.

You look up at the male who stared down at you, a dreamy look on his face as he tried his hardest not to brush his hand on your soft-looking cheek. "Like I said, there aren't exactly many rooms in the house you reside in that could let me stay there." You pointed out.

It was true, the house they stayed in or more likely, stolen from people before they got their souls, only had five bedrooms, fitting for the five of them.

The heart shaped haired male had his eyes trail over to your plump lips and before he could quip something else, he was suddenly bumped to the side by their muscular member who couldn't help but replace the hand on your waist with his own, pulling you closer to his bigger frame. "Just stay with us." He whispers, voice deep.

You can't help but feel your heart racing at his words but put some distance by leaning back, "Abby, that's not very nice. You just hurt Romance." You frowned as you turn to the other male who immediately changed his glare pointed to Abby to a happy smile as he saw you turn to him.

"He's a big boy, he can handle a little bump." Abby rolls his eyes as Baby snickers.

Before you could tell him to apologize, Jinu walks over to you. "They're right, you know. You wouldn't have to deal with your landlord if you just stayed with us, I can just give you my room and sleep on the living room." He offers, hoping he could change your mind and stay with them instead.

"It's fine, guys really. Thanks for the offer but I really can't, you already appointed me as your manager even when I don't have much experience..." You murmured before feeling Abby's hand on your waist tighten. "It's just some old guy anyway, it's not that big of a deal." You try to reassure, lips turned up in the pretty smile that softened their exteriors.

"Do you want me to take care of him for you?" Everyone turned to Mystery who uttered those words, the rest grumbled, clearly wanting to be the one to say that to you.

You look confused by what he meant but shook your head, "No, it's alright, you don't have to."

"I'd do anything for you," The male mumble as he watched you refuse their offers some more, clearly not having heard what he mumbled.

Baby slumps into your back making you let out a cute little yelp at the added weight, "You can just sleep with me." He said, lips brushing over the back of your neck causing you to shiver.

The others immediately disproved of that.

They watched as their little Ms. Manager gave them a wave goodbye before walking off towards the bus stop.

It was silent for a bit before Baby saja finally says, "We're getting rid of him, right?"

The next day, you slammed the door open, breathing shakily as the Saja boys turned to you in concern. You were trying to catch your breath, practically running here to inform them of the news that had been delivered to you by a fellow neighbour.

"You alright, pretty girl?" Romance was the first to ask as Jinu stopped the music.

Their concern was a facade of course. They know what you were gonna say, practically smelled your scent miles away as you moved to get to them. They held back smirks of their own as they stared down at your form.

"H-he... the landlord- he's dead," You said, eyes wide and clearly still in shock. "One of my neighbours saw dismembered bodies and- oh gosh... it sounded so frightening."

The whimpers you let out highened their growing arousal as they stared at you, eyes darkening as they fought the urge to take you right then and there.

"Wh-what if that happens to me-" You were tearing up now.

Oh, those tears. Those beautiful tears.

Baby licks his lower lip at the sight, the desire to lick them with his tongue growing. He can't help but wonder what you tasted.

Jinu walks up to you immediately, in faux concern, placing a hand on you shoulder to comfort you. "We're very sad to here that..." He said with a frown and furrowed his eyebrows. "But you shouldn't worry about that happening to you, Ms. Manager."

You look up at him and the dark haired male praised himself for not pouncing on you at the sight. Sniffling, you asked. "Wh-what?"

He gave you a small yet reassuring smile, "If you stay with us, you'd never get hurt by that awful killer on the loose."

"We'll be sad without our pretty little manager to tend to our needs..." Abby adds on.

"We need you, I need you." Mystery whispers.

Your body was shaking, overwhelmed by everything that's happening.

However, if this little thing didn't change your mind yet... then they'd just have to take you, with or without your consent. You're theirs after all.

You were just their pretty, dumb manager and they'd eliminate anyone who would stand in the way of their love.

[edensrose]

꒰ ݁˖ꫂ᭪ ꒱ 𓂃 Crawling Back To You

˚₊‧꒰ა toxic fwb.ᐟ satoru gojo ﾉ f. reader ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

it's always a push & pull with you and him. one moment you hate him the next you — no, you could never love satoru gojo. you loved his touch, loved his dick, but not him. on the flip side, satoru can't seem to let you go. not after years of pining. afted another messy ‘breakup’, you take nanami for your date to an event. to punish satoru . . . or yourself?

broadcast ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni, possessive behaviour, manhandling, hate-fucking, fingering, rough sex, degradation, overstim, pussy spanking, choking, spanking, cervix fucking, backshots, mating press, phone sex(?), inappropriate use of six eyes, meantoru, toxictoru, jjk 0 satoru cause mmm, suguru's ex reader, slight nanami ﾉ reader 𓂃 wc ⌇ 2.9k

sweetheart host ᝰ.ᐟ✧ i present to you my toxictory brainrots. art cred ⌇ haikisyobun_

You always loved the colour red.

Red were your heels, red was your dress, red were your lips that ghosted his thin ones.

You always loved the colour red. But you could get used to blue staring through your soul across the room.

"Have I told you how stunning you look yet?" A deep voice drawled in your ear. Lulled, affectionate. Not fiery, not him. Still, you laughed and curled scarlet nails around his tie.

"Ever the gentleman, Kento." You crooned and leaned back with your new leverage to gander at his face. Handsome, sharp, Nanami Kento was a bachelor you'd had your eyes on for some time now. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

But his hands won't go any lower than your waist. His lips only grazed your cheek. His eyes? Infuriatingly stiff on yours. If his touch wouldn't wander how could you expect his gaze to? Simply put, he wouldn't.

He was respectful. Earnest. A gentleman for your soft heart.

And that was the problem.

You loved the colour red, but Nanami was grey. You loved the colour red, but you missed blue. Even as you stood here, in some formal gala hosted by Jujutsu Society in a fancy hotel you can't even remember the name of. Why did you think taking the stoic and stern Mr. Nanami as your date to the event would be a good idea? What cosmic force possessed your mouth and blinded your eyes?

"Fuck you, Gojo. I can't do this anymore."

Right. Yourself.

You shoved your friends (?) with benefits and your number one annoyance so hard that day he actually stumbled. You only got so far due to his lack of infinity. He never turned it on around you. No, he wanted your fingers on his skin, your lips on his. Even if it was your hands around his throat and your mouth cussing him out.

Poison, obsession, that was this dance you both stumbled and strutted upon after that fateful day. Your heart had been scorned by a man, and so you turned to his best friend for comfort. Heart in your hands, hatred in your eyes.

It was his fault all of this happened. His fault that your Suguru turned his back on you. So wouldn't it be befitting to take these feelings out on the culprit?

You never expected endless nights in his apartment, mornings in yours, face buried in his shoulder and nails down his back. Never would you have imagined being addicted to him, to his body, to his mouth, hands and dick that left its mark on you so severely, that you couldn't find yourself entangled with anyone else without picturing him.

Picturing his hands all over you, imagining his mouth spitting the most degrading mocks, fantasising his body forcing yours down into whatever furniture he gets to first.

Even now, when you're trying to expand your horizons. To forget him. You're here with Nanami, you spent a week with Shoko, you've got three other DM's above his and yet — your eyes always trailed to his contact. Blocked.

Your eyes still trailed to his. Across the room. Watching you with every breath you take, every laugh you give Nanami, every smile you fake. How your hand touched on a broad shoulder and wished it was Satoru's. How you bit your tongue and wish for something filthy but instead got gentle affection and adoration.

Was this self punishment? Or retribution for him? You wouldn't deny that a dark crevice of your mind grew giddy when you felt his gaze on you, when you knew each look he snuck, when you recognised the depths of those blues.

Red looked good on you. Just as jealousy looked great on him.

"Sorry, Ken," maybe that's why you couldn't lie to yourself anymore. "I. . . just don't think this is working out."

Nanami's eyes scoured yours and he stiffened under your hand braced on his arm. "I'm terribly sorry. Have I made you uncomfortable?"

You bit your lip. "No." And that was the problem. He hadn't made you question one shred of your dignity in all four hours of your stay here. Maybe you misunderstood yourself.

He hadn't tried to touch where he shouldn't, hadn't staked his claim. Not like that beady glare still penetrating the back of your head as you leaned to press a chaste, apologetic kiss to Nanami's cheek.

Maybe that's why you didn't stop him.

Maybe that's why you let familiar pale hands grip your thighs and shove you around like a ragdoll. Why you didn't fight strong arms steeled around you and yanking your short dress over your hips.

Dignity be damned. Respect out the window. Satoru's hands made up for it all in their fondles. The heel of his palm gyrating up into your clothed clit while his fingers played with your folds so disrespectfully. His mouth uttered indignities that shattered all your resolve.

"Yeah? Pretty slut was all high and dry huh?" His grunts fanned your ear as his chest pushed against your back, shoving you further into a random hotel suite.

His index and middle crooked strokes on your slit. Slotting between your panties as if trying to fuck you through them, before they slid up to your clit and swirled quick, cruel circles.

"Fuck —" you stumbled on your heels, legs quaking as he kicked them open and caught you with a steady arm around the middle. "Told - told you to fuck off - told you we can't — ah."

His fingers flicked rapidly on your throbbing bud and your head flushed back into his shoulder. Your pussy pulsed into his hand. As if panting out how much she missed him together with slick for tears. Satoru only laughed against your ear and fought back against your halfhearted struggle.

"Can't what? Can't stop thinkin' about me? Can't stop wanting me like this?"

Your panties abruptly snap against your slit and you hiccup a yelp. He coiled around the waistband and roughly yanked them up to grind the fabric onto your poor cunt. "Sure baby. Keep telling yourself that."

Before you knew it you're limp over a stiff arm holding you up. Leaned over with his chest to your back. Legs trembling, heels stained in juices spluttered down your thighs with two fingers fucking you knuckles-deep.

Red stained your lips, stained your neck in his hickies, strewn over your hips as he kept your pesky dress out of the way. It bled into your heart with each whisper. You imagined it stained his tongue and teeth too with how violent each word kissed your ear.

"Suuchhh a slutty girl. Pretty pussy's tellin' on you sweetheart." Fingers plunged up and swirled messily on your sweetspot until your spluttered drool together with whines of his name. "Fuck, she miss me baby? Missed getting all fuckin' messy? Awww Nanami doesn't know how to treat her right huh?"

How you hated the way he'd croon. His condescending pout was heard and felt against your ear, then down your neck as open-mouthed kisses laved your skin. His thumb flicked back to attack your clit again. Eager to push you through a third orgasm from his hand alone.

"Satoru - shit - S'toru. . . s'too much." You sobbed. He grinned. Sped his hand into a piston and groaned when your eyes rolled back into your head.

"Good. Hope it's too much. Hope your slutty pussy remembers who's the only one that can get her crying like this."

Of course he didn't stop. Even after you coiled and squirted all over his palm and stained his sleeve. He only yanked his fingers out, staring with heart eyes at the stringy mess linking his hand to your cunt — then laid an open-palmed shmack! to your throbbing flesh.

"You want me to stop?" You're shoved over the bed. He knocked legs open to reveal your pussy gushing more slick and clenching around nothing. You tasted the sheets and shook your head only to fall stiff when those wet fingers buried into your hair and shoved your face down.

"Words, sweet girl. Do you want me to stop?"

"No!"

"No who?"

"No - no Satoru —" you're cut off with a hiccup and a sting against your ass. Pleasure makes up for the slap with his tent grinding firm on your messy slit.

"Try again."

"N-No . . . no toru, please. Need you."

You imagined his eyes rolled with his huffed laugh. Once more your body's shoved further up the sheets and your heels slipped back into a near-dangle. You're left helpless. Drugged. Addicted. To his poison? Sure. But to your tongue it was a sweet aphrodisiac.

Sweet like the kisses pressed down your spine. Sweet like his words crooned to your ear. Sweet like the stretch of his cock as he shoved into you with reckless abandon. Every throb, every bump, every vein felt with the thrum of your walls and the urgency of his thrusts.

"Fuck. So tight," he panted into your hair. "So wet. F'me? Or for him?"

Slick and cream sprayed across the sheets and floor. Evidence of your weakness. You let him in again. The strongest, the honoured one, the man you loathed with your entire being but your poor pussy loved more with each plunge.

Smack! You whined into the sting on your clit. His fingers set back to work on the pulsating pearl, in tandem with each clash of his hips against your ass and wet slap of his balls against your folds. A sinful melody. Another reminder.

You lost. You lost to him. To yourself. To your own whorish desires. But you couldn't care less as his cock fucked you open and hammered on your cervix until you fisted the sheets and drooled all over.

"Torruu - toru - hngh!"

"Really thought you could last huh?"

His bark of laughter came with a harsher slew of bucks. The sheer prowess of his body pressed you firm into the sheets. His weight a heavy reminder of his power over you. Skin to skin, legs locked, lips stealing kisses and tongues greedy as ever. He groaned into your mouth, drank you like a poison he couldn't go without.

The hand in your hair exchanged for your jaw. Tight on the underside as he shoved you in a straining angle to expose more skin. Shallowed his thrusts when he felt you throb in that familiar sequence.

"Thought you could last without this cock? Thought you wouldn't miss it?" Satoru's deep rumble pitched a bit with his laugh. Something near-giddy as he drew to the tip then rammed all the way. Humping on your cervix brutally until he fucked cum out of your squeezing, fluttering cunt.

"Fuck. Thought Kenny could do it for ya?" His heave bit the air with desperation. He occupied on your tongue with feral sucks as he pounded your poor pussy raw and flushed into the sheets. Not once breaking pace even as he neared release. "Can he sweetheart? Can he fuck this pussy like me? Think he can make my favourite girl cream like me? Huh?"

He punctuated with a rapid rhythm that left you breathless. His thick cock dragging on your abused walls, fucking into a new sweetspot with every slick shove. You've left him with a messy ring of cream around the base. That should be enough of an answer.

But not for him. Not for his greed. Not when the image of you laughing and flashing pearly whites at Nanami all night still engraved in his head. Teeth buried into your shoulder with the reminder. The lights flickered as he reached a tempo that rolled your eyes back and left you jaw slack with incoherently lewd keens.

"I — ohgod - toru!"

"Answer me."

Satoru sneered into the lick he lathered over the bite on your shoulder. Your clit's trapped between two knuckles that pinch and roughly rub yet another mind-shattering orgasm out of you.

"Tell me. Tell me he can't fuck this pussy like me. Tell me you missed me. That you were wrong."

Nanami wasn't the only culprit in his eyes. Every session Satoru had you sprawled beneath him, a ghost from the past flitted around his memory. Your pretty moans resonating through a dorm room instead. Your tongue praising another name. That damned name.

Suguru's.

The memory had him stilling. Underside vein throbbing harshly against one of your sweetspots and eliciting a pitiful little sob from your parted lips. That's for him now. You're for him, now.

You're spun over and shoved onto your back next. Knees kissed your tits as he shoved your thighs back and slapped his wet cock down onto your gushing slit. "Tell me." His demand had nothing on his glare. On the harsh hold he jerked your jaw with.

Satoru crooked over you and gyrated his hips with a fervent frustration. Lips locked in a sneer as he whispered again. Low, rough. "Tell me damnit." Another slap to your poor slit. "Tell me you missed me. Tell me who this pretty pussy belongs to."

At last your quaking voice quenches his tempest. The storm in his eyes faded with your pathetic: "you toru — 's all yours. All yours baby, promise."

Tears caught on your lashes and in a rare moment of clarity, like the sun peeking through clouds, he leaned down to pepper kisses over them. Easing you on his cock in his window of tenderness. But the second he heard that dismayed whine? He jerked his hips forward with a near-deranged grin.

"Fuck yeah baby. My sweet girl doesn't like it soft huh?" Time bended over your clit as his thumb roughly swirled the nub. Stirring your back into an arch. Tits bouncing with the ruthless pace he sets back on your squelching cunt. "Doesn't like it nice 'n gentle. Needs to be fucked like a whore."

Wet slaps, sobbed moans, the lights flickered with each burst of his cursed energy. From heavy lashes and crossed irises, you caught the glow of his. Fixated on the bulge he left humped at your pelvis.

Fingers flexed around your thighs as he shallowed again to keep him buried deep. Keep his eyes addicted to the idea that he's filling you up like that. That he's got you squirting and clenching on his cock.

Your knees flushed to your ears next. Satoru shoved forward until you were trapped under him with your legs strung over his shoulders. He swallowed each sob, went back to sucking on your tongue and fucking you into creamy bubbles. Egged on by the insatiable reminder that you were just as obsessed with him. Just as dependent on him. In this endless song and dance, you'd always waltz back to him and he'd take you with open arms and a pounding dick.

"Can't," you croak, chest stuttering as his hands hugged around either side. "Goodd, toru - I can't — s'too much."

"Too much? Shame." He grunted into your mouth with a harsh laugh. You're snatched around the jaw again as his deranged grin made itself famous.

"Too. Fucking. Bad." Lewd shlaps! sloshed from the puddle between your thighs. "You're gonna - fuck - gonna take it. Gonna cum on this cock cause it's all you're good for, yeah?" You whimpered. Then sobbed at the knuckled pinch to your clit.

"Answer me."

"Yeah - yes! Yes toru - 'm gonnnnaa - cum on your cock, mhhm!"

"There's my good girl." Another kiss bit your lips. Pouring his honeyed poison that you gulp like a hedonist. Bound by his hold on your heart, body — hell, your soul. Strung on your hatred birthed into a sick, twisted need for him to fill the hole left in you. Just as he filled your weeping pussy to the brim.

Your orgasm crashed in a heated tide. Trembled whines and sobs of his name spluttered into hiccups as he set a brutal rhythm on yet another sweetspot. You squeezed his cock enough to flutter his eyes back and he collapsed into you. Still moving. Sloppy. Feral. A slave to the incessant need to prove to every inch of your being that you were his.

His. His. His his hishishi—

An obnoxious chime drew his attention. Your phone strewn across the bed like red-handed culprit. One squint was all he needed. His thrusts stuttered at the name. In neat digital font with a pretty, infuriating black heart at the end.

Sugu <3.

A sneer wretched on his lips, then melted into a grin. Before you could even protest, the device tossed beside your head and a slick thumb swiped.

Satoru's voice rumbled into your opposite ear. "Go on. Talk to loverboy."

Suguru's came from the other. "Evening pretty girl. You free tonight?"

Tears glossed your eyes. Your mouth sealed shut and you swallowed whatever you could. The slow pace was just merciful enough. Once you steadied, you gulped and put on an eased tone. Staring at Satoru like he was your merciful saviour.

Here he was. Giving you a chance to speak to your beloved ex. Who your cried for, yearned for. Even as Satoru slowly withdrew to the tip to give you leeway.

"I - hi Sugu — "

You were wrong.

Shmack! Your sob choked into a wanton moan and your back lurched. Wide eyes stared at your saviour turned sinner, who awaited with that same damned grin and hellish, blue eyes. Thrusts shook your body in a frenzy. Wet squelches and your slew of moans surely carried over the line clearly.

"Heh. Sorry Suguru." Satoru cruxed over you, one hand fisting on your thigh while the other returned to your clit. Cruel like his pace. Like his feral little whisper to the man that will always hold your heart. Even while you're being fucked into mattress by his best friend.

"She's a lil' busy right now. Slutty cunt finally found better, I guess."

© 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 . no copying, translation or plagiarism authorised

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Dr. Flirt

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Reader

Summary: Jack flirts with you at work with no shame.

The Pitt Masterlist

You’re rushing down when you receive a call from the ER that there’s a woman in labor. You scrub in and rush into a trauma room. You see Dr. Abbot handling the delivery.

“Hi. I’m Doctor L/N from labor and delivery,” you introduce yourself to the expecting parents, “How are we doing?”

“This is her first pregnancy so we’re out of limit here, the dad speaks.

“Doctor Abbot, you got this?”

“Like a walk in a park,” he says plainly, “Alright, Janine. You’re crowning so you’re going to have to start pushing. Ready? One…two…three!”

_________________

You have one of your nurses escort the new parents up to your floor as you stay back to talk to Dr. Abbot.

“You did good there. You sure you don’t want to switch departments?” You look at him with a smirk.

Jack chuckles, “Don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

You cross your arms over your chest, “And why’s that?”

Jack looks you up and down and smirks, “You’d be far too distracting for me to get any work done.”

You snort, “You didn’t seem distracted just now?”

“Because you weren’t in my line of sight. If you were…”

“You’re being very bold today, Dr. Abbot. I’m not sure my husband would appreciate such language from you at my workplace.” The diamond ring on your left hand sparkles under the bright hospital lights.

Jack glances at it and smirks, “Trust me, I’m sure your husband would appreciate the fact that he scored the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world.”

————

Doctors Santos and King watch from a short distance as you and Dr. Abbot converse with each other.

“They’re bold,” Santos says, arms crossed over her chest.

Dr. King’s brows furrow and looks at her colleague, “What do you mean?”

“Dr. Abbot is flirting with her despite her being married and she’s flirting back. You can tell by the way she’s looking at him and smiling.”

“Isn’t Doctor Abbot married as well?”

Santos nods, “Yeah. So I’ve heard.”

“So you think they’re a thing?”

“Probably, but I know someone who will definitely know the answer,” Santos immediately spots Princess and waltzes up to her, Dr. King following behind.

“I need some intel.”

Princess looks at her in confusion, “On a patient?”

“On Doctor Abbot,” she nods to him across central. She leans in, “Are Doctor Abbot and Doctor L/N having an affair? I notice they flirt with each other a lot when Doctor L/N comes down.”

Princess bursts into laughter, “Ay nako. Kasal na sila.”

Santos’ eyes widen, “They don’t share the same last name.”

The nurse snorts, “Girl, it’s 2025. A woman doesn’t have to take a man’s last name if she doesn’t want to.” Princess proceeds to head back to her patient.

Dr. King hums, “So…they’re married?”

Dr. Santos nods, “Yeah.”

“That explains all the flirting. That’s good right?”

“Well now they’re just gross then,” Santos retorts before heading off to help patients.

———————

You meet Jack outside of the hospital. He immediately takes your bag in one hand, his hand slipping into yours.

You look at him with a smirk, “We got another one.”

Jack chuckles, “Yeah?”

“Your new student doctors. They thought we were having an affair.”

Your husband snorts, “Still not changing your last name?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. Making people think we’re cheating pieces of scum is kinda fun.”

Jack rolls his eyes, “Trouble,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to your head.

[andy-15-07]

https://www.tumblr.com/princess-fairytales/785419277737000960/introducing-u-to-my-parents-getting-rawed-in-my

Could u write this with Danny or one of his characters please and thank you 💘

Mi Tesoro

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 1083 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way — I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

You had no idea what to expect when Joaquin said, "Come home with me for the weekend. My mom's dying to meet you."

But now, sitting at his family's kitchen table in Arizona, eating homemade pozole while his mom beams at you like you're already her daughter-in-law, you wonder why you were ever nervous.

"Ay, mija," his mom coos, patting your hand. "You're even prettier in person. Joaquin, why didn’t you bring her sooner?"

Joaquin blushes and looks down at his plate. "Mami..."

You try not to giggle. He'd been the picture of confidence when flying drones and taking down HYDRA leftovers with Sam, but in front of his mom? Reduced to a shy, fidgety boy.

She pours you more horchata. "So, are you two getting serious?"

You glance at Joaquin, whose face has turned crimson. "Very," you say with a little smile. His hand tightens around your thigh under the table.

"Mami," he mutters, embarrassed.

"What? I'm just saying! Maybe next year you give me some nietos."

You nearly choke on your drink. Joaquin groans. "Can we not talk about babies while we're eating, please?"

His mom waves a hand, clearly delighted.

Later, she makes you help her clean up while Joaquin dries dishes behind you, brushing his hand over your back every time she turns away. His abuela FaceTimes in from Mexico and says, "Ay, tiene buena cadera. Muchos niños!"

You have no idea what she said, but Joaquin flushes so red, you cackle.

When you're finally in his old bedroom,walls still lined with old photos, one cringey Captain America poster above the twin bed,he closes the door behind you with a soft click.

You smirk, dropping onto the bed. "Your family is adorable."

He stares at you like you're prey.

"You have no idea what you did to me tonight," he says, voice low. "All sweet and polite... wearing that dress. Sitting at the table while my mom talks about marriage like she didn’t hear us fucking in my apartment last week."

You grin. "Poor baby."

He's on you in seconds.

Kisses you like he’s trying to make up for hours of waiting. Hands everywhere. Tongue hot and hungry in your mouth.

"You're not gonna be able to keep quiet, are you?"

"Try me," you pant.

He hikes your dress up around your waist, pushes your panties aside, groaning when he sees how wet you already are.

"Fuck. You ready for me, baby?"

"Raw," you whisper. "I want it raw."

He moans like a man possessed, fumbling his belt open.

"You're gonna take me, right here, on the bed where I had my first wet dreams as a kid,dreams of someone just like you."

You laugh, but it melts into a moan as he sinks in. Deep, slow, stretching you perfectly.

"Shhh," he breathes, stilling. "We can’t wake my mom."

You clench around him deliberately.

He snarls and starts moving. Deep, fast, hard. One hand on your mouth, the other gripping your hip like it anchors him.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans. "Gonna come so deep in you, baby. Want you leaking on my childhood sheets."

You come first, legs shaking, and he follows right after, moaning your name into your neck as he pumps you full.

But he's not done.

He flips you on your stomach.

"Been thinking about this all night. Want you there."

You freeze. "There?"

He leans over, kisses your shoulder. "Gonna make you feel so good, mi amor. Trust me."

His fingers dip into your pussy, spreading slick over your puckered hole. You gasp.

"Joaquin,"

"I got you, baby. Just relax. You're so wet. You can take me."

He pushes one finger in, slow, gentle.

"That’s it. Good girl. So fucking tight."

Another joins, stretching you open. You clutch the sheets, panting.

"Want me to fuck you here? Say it."

"F-fuck me there, Joaquin," you whisper. "Want you to."

He spits on you, then lines up his cock, thicker than his fingers.

Slow, so slow, until you're filled to the brim. You both moan.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes. "You’re perfect."

He starts thrusting.

Deep. Controlled. He leans over you, whispering in your ear.

"So dirty. Letting me take your ass in my childhood room."

You whimper.

He reaches under to rub your clit.

"Come again for me. All full. Come for me, hermosa."

You fall apart, moaning into the sheets, and he loses it,pounding into you, then stilling with a groan as he comes inside you, deep and messy.

You collapse together on the bed.

"Still think my mom didn’t hear that?" you murmur.

He kisses your shoulder. "Worth it."

You grin. "So worth it."

And somewhere, Steve Rogers' poster watches in silent judgment.

You wake up to the smell of cafecito and tortillas. Your thighs ache. Your stomach flutters.

Joaquin groans beside you, face buried in your neck. "Five more minutes."

"She’s making breakfast."

"I’m never looking her in the eyes again."

You giggle and roll out of bed. "We’re already in too deep. Might as well go eat."

You head to the bathroom first to freshen up. You’re brushing your teeth in front of the mirror when Joaquin slips in behind you, arms sliding around your waist.

"Still sore?" he murmurs against your neck.

"A little."

"Good. That means I did my job."

You snort around the toothbrush.

His hand slips lower. "Bend over the sink real quick, mami. Just a taste."

You choke on foam. "Are you serious?"

"Completely. Turn around. Hands flat. Be quiet."

You obey, bracing yourself on the cool counter as he pushes your sleep shorts down and runs a teasing hand between your thighs.

"Still wet. God, you're perfect."

He slides two fingers in, slow and deep, then leans over to whisper, "After breakfast, I’m fucking you in the shower. But for now… let me wake you up properly."

He sinks to his knees behind you.

When you step into the kitchen, his mom greets you with a knowing smirk.

"Did you sleep okay, mija?" she asks.

"Very well," you say sweetly.

Joaquin drags in behind you, hair a mess, face red.

His mom serves him eggs. "Your bed must still be comfy. Lots of... movement last night."

He chokes on his coffee.

You wink at him. "Told you she heard."

He glares, cheeks flushed, but his hand finds yours under the table and squeezes.

He leans in and murmurs, "Tonight? Shower. You're not leaving this house unshaken."

You smile. "Can’t wait, Torres."

[kdh-tally]

Hi! If your requests are open, is there a chance you can write a oneshot about Mystery and Zoey from Kpop Demon Hunters? They're my favorite characters. I know all of the Saja Boys, except Jinu, are unfeeling demons, but I'm choosing to disregard what's canon. For the story, I was thinking of a scene where Mystery notices Zoey ogling Abby's abs. Seeing this makes Mystery jealous and self-conscious, and he asks himself, "What does he have that I don't have?" I would also lol if Mystery then starts barking at Abby.

Prompt : Mystery is a tad bit insecure

Author's Note : A tad bit on the longer side maybe?

Mystery didn’t intend on enjoying the idol life so much. Jinu had to spend most of his time persuading him out of the four other boy-band members. Mystery had enjoyed his home in hell to some degree. There was nothing to do really, and he wasn’t disturbed as long as Gwi-ma remained focused on someone else.

Of course there were still voices. The voices were always there. Well, they were. Jinu, the idiot, had the bright idea to debut their little boy band sooner than needed.That’s how he and the other 3 boys found themselves being shoved into a sketchy alleyway. 

“Look good!” he whispered yelled orders at them. The boys groaned in unison, annoyance visible in their tones but they listened anyway. 

Mystery was the first one turning the corner. He heard silent squeals coming from the other end but couldn’t see what was going on. He tilted his head slightly, hair flowing gracefully in the wind. The other boys seeing this copied his move, making it look synchronized and purposeful.

He took note of the three girls. Two of them seemed to be fangirling over Abby’s muscles, he didn’t understand why Jinu gave them such basic names, and the other girl looked so done with the situation. 

The girl that stood in the center, short with little space buns, began to turn red. She was the first human he’d noticed and, not that anyone could tell, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. But there were more important things than a cute human girl. Especially when she was a hunter that killed his king for a living. 

Killed them with her voice. Her beautiful, gentle, siren… 

“Mystery?” someone interrupted his thoughts. The man hadn’t even noticed that they had passed by the girls already and were standing near the center of the market place.

“What is it Baby?”

“You need to lock in”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Mystery scoffed at the new terminology the youngest demon had begun using. Baby seemed to really enjoy human humor.

“We’re about to perform so focus you idiot”

—

Jinu never seemed to run out of dumb ideas. None of the boys knew how they found themselves camping outside of the fan sign hall. All Mystery could remember was playing this game called Valorant or something of the sort, only to be summoned away to the front of a line. 

As they were letting it Mystery understood everything. Jinu wanted to flirt with his girl- enemy. Yep. Ignoring the sudden fuss when the purple lady said the groups would sit together, Mystery quickly found himself sitting beside the girl with the space buns again. 

He quickly learnt that her name was Zoey and she was the main rapper of the group. This shocked him slightly seeing as she was so bubbly and sweet. He’d honestly thought the scary pink lady was the main rapper, but seeing as Baby was their rapper he should've known better.

Eventually, Mystery mustered up the courage to ask her a question only to be interrupted by a fan. How dare they interrupt him? He didn’t even notice he was barking at them to scare them away until Zoey began to chastise him for it. 

“No! Bad Saja Boy!” she shamed, tapping his head with the pen until he calmed down. Mystery slouched back into his chair, what was coming over him?? From just two seats across, he could hear Baby snickering at him.

As he watched Zoey reassure the fan that everything was alright, why did she have to hold the fans hands???, he realized this feeling might have started to become a bigger problem than he thought it would be. —

The battle was over. Gwi-ma was finally defeated and the underworld was closed up for good. With the odd stillness that followed, Mystery found himself in a strange place. He found himself at peace. Well.. kinda?

He still couldn’t sleep properly as he wasn't used to the silence of the overworld at night, and his hair still got frizzy and big when it was humid, and sometimes Baby stole his earrings, but all in all, it was fine. Livable. Manageable. Different.

The dance practice room was empty aside from him and Zoey. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors stretched across the front wall, reflecting the two of them. Zoey in her grey sweats and a tiny white crop top (which was so unfair), and Mystery, slouched on the floor, playing dead.

“You’re not even trying to learn the moves,” Zoey said through a laugh, twisting her water bottle open.

“I am,” he groaned. “Just give me a week to actually get interested first.”

Zoey rolled her eyes at his dramatic behaviour, something that only ever seemed to pop out around her. “That choreography isn’t even that hard.”

“Says the girl with demon hunter blood and abs. This must be so easy for you.”

Zoey blinked. “Excuse you?”

Mystery sat up, one knee drawn up, resting an arm on it as he spoke, “It’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting,” she said pointedly, and then immediately flushed when she realized what she said. “I mean..!”

Mystery smirked, tying his hair up into a bun. He was fully aware of the fact that Zoey believed he was ‘just her type’ and took full advantage of it whenever he could. “You think I’m distracting?”

“I meant your weird slouchy pose was distracting,” Zoey huffed, face red, eyes looking everywhere but his face as she sipped her water too fast.

He liked this. The way her cheeks puffed when she was annoyed. The way she was clearly trying not to look at him while fixing her buns. The way she…

Stopped. Right in front of the mirror.

“Oh my god,” she said, squinting at the mirror.

“What?”

“I look jacked,” she whispered, checking her arm. “Is this what Abby feels like all the time?”

Mystery’s smile faded. “Abby?”

“Yeah. Look at this.” She lifted her arm slightly, flexing, and raised a brow in approval. “No wonder people like his stage presence. He’s a wall of charisma and strength.”

Mystery’s eye twitched. “What does he have that I don’t?” he muttered.

Zoey turned. “Hm?”

“Nothing!” Mystery said too fast. “Just… practicing the dance moves.”

Zoey snorted. “Sure you are. Just like how you were 'barking to protect our image' at the fan sign.”

Mystery’s eyes narrowed. “That fan was sketchy. Their aura was weird.” Aura was a word Baby taught him.

“Uh huh. You were jealous,” she teased, walking past him to grab her towel.

“I was not,” he lied poorly. “I’m incapable of jealousy. Demon, remember?”

“Right,” she dragged, throwing the towel at him. “And I’m incapable of sarcasm.”

She left him there on the floor, towel over his head, ego bruised. But even as she walked away, Mystery found his eyes trailing her again. He hated how soft he’d become.

Hated how often his thoughts drifted back to that first fan sign. To the first time he saw her in the overworld. Laughing. Blushing.

She'd been so red when they passed her in the alleyway, her and Mira swooning over Abby’s opened shirt while she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. He’d noticed her immediately. And it wasn't just because she was cute. (Okay, that was part of it.)

It was because she was human. So very human. Something he, at the time, didn’t realise he would want so bad. And yet she’d stayed in his mind like a song he couldn’t stop humming.

Even now, months later, with the world no longer ending and his contract with Gwi-ma gone, Mystery still found himself aching whenever she looked at someone else with even a fraction of the warmth she gave him.

Abby. Abby.

The name echoed in his mind again like some cursed chant. Summoning courage, he stood and marched up behind her. “You didn’t answer me.”

Zoey glanced at him in the mirror. “About?”

“What does he have that I don’t have?”

Zoey blinked. “Wait. You were serious?”

Mystery folded his arms. “I barked at a fan for you. I gave up my spot as center for that weird duet stage. I let you touch my hair. That’s practically marriage in demon culture.”

Zoey’s jaw dropped in laughter. “Mystery, I pat everyone’s head when they’re being a weirdo.”

“You don’t call everyone a good boy.” he pointed out.

Zoey flushed bright pink. “That was one time! I was trying to calm you down!”

“It worked.”

“Stop being dramatic.” Zoey laughed, softer this time, walking closer.

He hated how fast his heartbeat got when she stepped into his personal space.

“You’re not Abby,” she said gently.

“I know that,” he huffed.

“But you’re Mystery,” she added, poking his chest, her eyes peering into his. “You’re weird and intense and accidentally funny and overly stylish. And I like that.”

Mystery blinked. “Wait. What?”

Zoey turned, clearly trying not to look at him anymore. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“You like me?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’m pushing it,” he said, stepping beside her. “You said you like me.”

“Fine,” Zoey grumbled. “I like you.”

Mystery grinned.

“I knew barking was the right way to go.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m going to bark at Abby next time I see him.”

“No!”

But Mystery was already planning it.

If he had a heart, it would be doing cartwheels.

He glanced at her reflection again, her cheeks warm, eyes shy, and something settled in him.

“Hey,” he said suddenly.

Zoey looked up.

“I like you too. Even if your abs are unfair.”

Zoey broke into laughter, her head tilting back.

And for once, Mystery didn’t mind the quiet that came with the over world. He didn’t mind the quiet anywhere as long as it meant he could listen to the girl he probably shouldn’t have fallen for, laugh her heart out.

[saintormentor]

dirty voicemails c. s

in which . . . chris sends you voicemails of him fucking other girls after the breakup, but why did he call out your name?

content warnings . . . voicemail-style formatting, sexual content involving third parties, emotionally manipulative behavior, degradation / humiliation, possessiveness / jealousy, toxic relationship themes, crying during sex ( implied emotional breakdowns ), references to alcohol and intoxication, masturbation / audio voyeurism, implied dubcon ( in tone, not literal non-consent) , heartbreak / emotional distress, gaslighting / obsessive ex behavior, self-destructive language, graphic language, suggestive audio description breakup aftermath / longing

voicemail #1 . . . 1:24am

“mhm… fuck, yeah, just like that—shit, baby.” panting. soft moans in the background.

he laughs. smug, loose. definitely drunk.

“you hear her? she sounds better than you ever did beggin’ for it.”

a wet slap. another moan. his voice dips—low, cruel.

“i’d tell you to block me, but we both know you won’t.” click.

voicemail #2 . . . 11:09pm

music in the back. maybe a party. girls giggling.

“she’s got a tongue ring. you ever think about getting one?” he’s chewing gum.

a girl moans again. muffled.

“she’s gagging all over me. you’d probably cry.”

another voice, asking who he’s talking to.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, baby. just an old friend.” click.

voicemail #3 . . . 3:32am

quiet. rain pattering outside. just his voice this time.

“y’know, i woke up and reached for you. stupid, right?”

he sniffles. sighs.

“i miss the way you’d hum when you brushed your teeth.”

a pause. his breath hitches.

“whatever. fuck you. i’m fine.” click.

voicemail #4 . . . 9:14pm

“she doesn’t talk back. you’d hate her.”

a sharp breath. skin hitting skin again. he groans, dragging it out.

“she lets me do whatever i want. that’s what i wanted. someone more… obedient.”

silence.

“but she doesn’t make me feel shit.” click.

voicemail #5 . . . 1:47am

laughter. his. and a girl’s. slurred, obnoxious.

“nah, don’t worry, baby—she can’t hear this. but you can, can’t you?”

wet, squelching sounds. breathy moans.

he gets close to the mic. you can hear the bass in his chest.

“miss the way you used to sob for it. fuck. that was art.” click.

voicemail #6 . . . 4:56pm

“saw your new post.”

he sounds annoyed. possessive.

“you wore that top on our second date. what, tryin’ to send a message?”

“you looked good. like… too good.”

“i bet you’re fucking someone. he fuck you like i l do?” click.

voicemail #7 . . . 2:11am

there’s crying. not his.

“she’s crying. i told her i couldn’t stop thinking about someone else.”

a door shuts. a silence. then he breathes out.

“you fucking ruined me.”

long pause.

“you win.” click.

voicemail #8 . . . 5:03am

he sounds wrecked. raspy. low and drunk and unraveling.

“baby… fuck… fuck, you always took me so good—shit—i keep fucking them like they’re you.”

he moans. clearly jerking off.

“miss you. miss your thighs. your throat. your smart ass mouth. tight fucking cunt.”

a growl. a desperate groan.

“god, [your name]—fuck, i—”

click.

a / n . . . credits to whoever first came up with this! couldn’t find out who, but this is not my original idea! also, this series depicts an unhealthy, obsessive dynamic. not a romantic portrayal — read with caution and take care of yourself.

[cursedbycrossovers]

Help Wanted ≠ Send Sacrifices (Pt. 3)

Danny… didn't know what he was looking at.

When the door to his office had burst open, jolting him from his nap, Danny had leapt from his chair and almost begun blasting instinctively.

It was a good thing he hadn't, because the guy in the red helmet felt like the absolute weakest ghost he'd ever encountered and would probably destabilize if Danny breathed on him too hard, while the guy he was carrying seemed to be an entirely living human.

They all stared at each other for a few moments before Danny managed to open his mouth.

"Um. Can I… help you?"

The guy in the red helmet lit up, as if he had been eagerly awaiting permission to speak, and held out the human proudly. "I brought you Tim!"

The smaller one stiffened up at the mention of his name, briefly shooting the other a bizarre combination of confusion, irritation, and concern before his eyes snapped back to Danny, as if afraid to look away for long.

"Oh-kay…" Had Danny ever met this ghost before? He was pretty sure the answer was 'no,' and even if he had, he didn't think he would have asked him for a guy named Tim. "Why?"

Red-Helmet-Guy deflated completely, giving off the aura of a very, very sad, betrayed puppy. "You don't like him?"

Shit, even through the mechanical quality to his voice, the guy sounded like he was close to tears. "No, no! It- It's fine, I like him plenty!" Danny scrambled to reassure, although maybe that wasn't the best idea either, considering how the human's expression got about 10x more alarmed, and his eyes began quickly darting around, as if scanning for escape routes. "I'm just wondering… why you brought him?" Danny tried.

The helmeted man's crumpled-can posture immediately straightened out as he puffed up with pride. "This is my brother, Tim! He's the smartest person I know. He runs a fortune 500 company, is a whiz at computers and science, and comes up with genius plans on the fly! He's the most tenacious little bastard you'll ever meet, and he can lie to Batman!"

He enthused like a child at show-and-tell, looking particularly smug about the last thing. Danny has no idea what a Batman is, but the rest of the resume sounds fairly impressive.

Wait a minute.

Danny glanced down from the man's helmet to find that the human had stopped moving, his face gone somewhat stunned and red. Danny's eyes then moved back up to the flat white lenses of the ghost who was practically radiating hope and joy.

"Did you bring me your brother to be my secretary?!"

One of the paperwork piles toppled, its pieces fluttering and scattering across the floor.

[shieldofiron]

Nesting Instinct

Omega! Billy x Alpha! Steve, pure fluff.

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

Billy was used to comments.

After all, his job was somewhat unusual, and he was not always what people expected when they heard the words “omega interior designer.”

But he was damn good at his job, with plenty of projects under his belt and a solid list of contracting contacts to carry out people’s dreams.

Doubtless, people were a little disappointed when he walked up, calloused hands shaking theirs firmly. But his results spoke for themselves.

Cushy, custom heat rooms. Renovated bedrooms ready for nesting. Nurseries… Billy did it all, and he’d only had to punch a few alphas lights out when they got fresh about it.

So when he drove up to the big white house and saw Steve Harrington of all people walk out, Billy immediately tensed but he tried to force himself calm.

��Am I dreaming, or-“ Billy rose from his truck with a pasted on smile. "Is that really you, Harrington?"

"Yeah it's me, don't slick your pants," Harrington sighed.

Billy hadn't been sure it was the same Steve Harrington. After all, this was a very different part of the country, and he'd worked through an assistant. It was a common enough name.

But he had to admit to himself, and only himself, that he'd been curious. Had to see what kind of omega King Steve had finally snagged.

Pure curiosity, that's all it was.

He advanced up to the house, a gorgeous Spanish style mansion, keeping his limbs loose and relaxed, which would hopefully keep his scent calm and even.

He saw the exact moment it hit Harrington, the way his eyes widened. He'd been on heavy suppressants, drugged up to high heaven every day of high school.

"I thought-" Harrington shut his mouth abruptly.

"Yeah, I know." Billy stuck out his hand, silently daring Harrington to say shit. He could still kick his ass, just like in high school.

But Harrington recovered quickly, and grasped Billy firmly.

Not the right phrase to think, right at this moment.

"Should we wait for the lady of the house?" Billy refused to worry about how his callouses probably felt, how his inner omega squirmed to make a good impression.

"There is no lady of the house."

Billy's heart skipped a beat, but he recovered just as quick. "Man of the house."

"None of those either. Just me." Harrington shrugged. "Well..."

Billy raised one brow and looked up at the huge house.

Harrington caught on quickly. "I just bought it. For me. And my son."

Billy nodded slowly, not quite sure if he caught on.

"The room he chose was clearly made for an alpha kid in mind, and I... I just moved him here," Harrington's shoulders slumped. "And then he presented and I have no fucking idea what to do."

Billy's stomach cramped, his brain unhelpfully reminding him what his own father had done in this scenario. Basically throw a bottle of suppressants at him and tell him if he turned up pregnant, Neil would throw him out.

Shaking that off, Billy gestured to the door. "Well, sounds like we have work to do. Lead the way, Pr- Harrington."

Harrington had a flash across his pretty face like he knew what Billy had been about to say. But he shook it off too and they went inside.

The scent of fresh paint pricked his nose, immediately set off his omega. It didn't smell right, not like Harrington or home or anything. He'd have to work on that too, along with the room, if Harrington's ego would allow it.

Harrington led him towards the back of the house as soon as they got up the stairs, a mirror image of himself reflected in the expensive looking floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the hallway.

Looking at himself now, Billy couldn't help but toy with the curl that laid over his brow, checking the bandana just tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.

Not that Harrington would give a fuck but... curiosity killed the cat.

Harrington led him back and opened a set of double doors.

"Those will have to go," Billy said immediately.

"What? Why?" Harrington looked at the door frame with those big bambi eyes that struck Billy to the bone every time.

"Too exposed. The more enclosed the space the better," Billy poked his head in. "Decent bed."

Harrington's heat next to him, the scent of him, hadn't changed in almost fifteen years. He still smelled like Indiana to Billy, as close to the memory as pool chlorine and Susan's hairspray.

"I got it as soon as he presented. Supposed to be the best. That's why I hired you, too."

Billy fought and lost the urge to preen, tipping up his chin.

"I'll have to meet him. Can't fuck with another omega's nest without permission," Billy eyed the pitiful swirl of blankets. "If that's cool with you."

"That's cool with me. He'll be home from school at four."

Billy couldn't help himself. "So we have to find something to do for two hours?"

Harrington stiffened a little at the innuendo heavy in Billy's voice. A hint of arousal mixed with his scent, which shocked Billy more than anything.

He was pink cheeked. "You really haven't changed."

Billy winked. "And that's a guarantee. I'll take some measurements, draw some stuff up, show him my plans, and then we can talk payment."

"I haven't hired you yet," Harrington said mulishly.

"Honey, if you hadn't wanted to hire me, you wouldn't have let me in the house," Billy leaned against the too-wide doorway.

Harrington looked up like he was praying to God for help, a more than familiar look for him.

"You'd better be the best, Hargrove."

Billy leaned in, seeing the memories flicker through Harrington's eyes, like they flickered through Billy's mind. A dark graduation party party, a kiss, tongues twining. Harrington had tasted like cigarettes and jungle juice and he'd moaned so sweetly. He'd thought Billy was an alpha, and Billy'd almost given up the ghost for a chance to get Harrington in his back seat.

"You know I'm the best," Billy said with a feral grin.

Harrington made no comments. Didn't even seem surprised or upset.

He just looked at him with these big bambi eyes. "When can you start?"

[peasack]

Hey guys! Back with the platonic!reader x thunderbolts.

Thought this would be a cute and kinda wholesome idea, so hope you guys like it!!

Thunderbolts x gn!platonic!reader

✦ Thunderbolts game night headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Alexei Shostakov ✦

LOUD. He’s yelling before the game even starts. He’s so competitive, even in Uno or Monopoly. He's the type to slam his cards on the table like he's in a high-stakes poker match.

Cheats constantly. Steals money from the bank, hides cards, pretends rules don’t apply to him. If you catch him, he acts like it’s part of the game.

Has no idea how to play anything electronic. You try to get him to play Mario Kart, but he just crashes into walls and screams in Russian.

Nicknames the dice. He’ll be like, “Come on, Natasha! Don’t fail me!” and everyone’s like… who is he talking to? He’s talking to the dice.

He has a pair of lucky dice named after his kids, including you. Whenever it's all or nothing he grabs them from his pocket, whispers to them and somehow always gets the score he needs.

Doesn’t understand losing. Will pout like a child if you beat him. He’s a sore loser but forgives you after you share snacks with him.

✦ Yelena Belova ✦

Master of trash talk. Soft voice, brutal words. “Oh? You think you will win? That’s so cute. I will destroy you.” She’s actually very sweet but she plays it up to mess with you.

Always brings the weird snacks. She shows up with like pickled herring chips or something and acts offended if no one else tries them.

Pretends not to care but actually loves winning. She’ll play it cool but does a little fist pump under the table when she beats John.

Secretly teams up with you against the others. If it’s a team game, you and Yelena are partners 99% of the time, and you both cheat in the most creative ways.

Loves chaotic games. Uno, Jenga, Cards Against Humanity—anything where she can ruin people.

✦ Bucky Barnes ✦

Reluctant participant. He shows up because you asked him to but claims he doesn’t like games. Lies. He gets super into it.

Super patient when teaching you new games. Will quietly explain rules to you if you’re confused, even if the others are already playing.

Lowkey very good at strategy games. Chess? Clue? He’s unbeatable. He has war-era patience and loves a good tactical challenge.

Loses his mind over video games. Cannot aim for his life in a shooter game. “Why is this kid running in circles? Stop jumping! STAND STILL!”

Protects you when the others gang up. When John and Yelena are being little gremlins, Bucky will switch sides to back you up.

✦ John Walker ✦

The worst when he’s losing. He’ll start questioning the rules, the fairness of life, the position of the table legs—anything to justify why he’s not winning.

Gets VERY loud in team games. Yelling directions, yelling at Bob for not following his plan. Absolute coach mode.

Takes everything WAY too seriously

"It's just Uno John.."

“THERE ARE RULES, Y/N. THERE. ARE. RULES.”

Softens if you get upset. He’s competitive but if you start to actually feel bad, he immediately backs off and maybe, just maybe he'll let you win the next round.

✦ Bob Reynolds ✦

Lowkey the peacemaker. Tries to keep everyone calm but ends up making snarky little comments when John gets on his nerves.

Very good at puzzle games. The quiet thinker. Can solve a Rubik’s Cube in like a minute and wins all the brain games.

Surprisingly sassy when he’s tired. If it’s late, he’ll start roasting people quietly under his breath and you are howling.

Always ends up on your team. You’re his comfort person. You’re the one who can get him to laugh even when he’s overwhelmed.

Super soft when you win. Always congratulates you, even if the others are too busy fighting to notice. Might gently pat your head like, "You did good, Starlight."

✦ Ava Starr ✦

Chaos incarnate. She plays to destroy people. She’s fast, sneaky, and will fully phase through the table to steal cards if you’re not watching.

Hates losing. But instead of yelling like John, she just gets eerily silent and stares at you.

"Ava, it’s just Connect Four."

Deadpan "No. It’s not."

Loves games with sabotage. Like Uno. Reverse cards are her love language.

Doesn’t really like team games. Unless you’re her partner. Then she’ll protect you like a hawk.

Let’s you win sometimes, but pretends she didn’t. “No, you just got lucky, don’t get cocky.”

✦ Group Dynamics ✦

Yelena and John are the loudest. Always fighting, always accusing each other of cheating.

Bob and Bucky just exchange looks like: “Why do we hang out with these people?”

Alexei is the one who flips the Monopoly board when he’s losing. Every time.

You always get away with the sneakiest cheats because Bucky secretly lets you.

Ava and Yelena 100% gang up on John at least once per game night.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open so if you have any ideas I'dove to write them! <3

[3dmanswhore]

just checking in | y. itadori

word count: 1.1k

content: fluff, friends to (lovers?), suggested romantic feelings but technically nothing that’s explicitly romantic kind of idk, lowkey a set-up for a part two but i’m so lazy and inconsistent it might not happen mb

summary: your best friend yuuji is having trouble sleeping after having a nightmare about you so he sneaks into your room to check up on you

a/n: he’s literally so freaking underrated it’s lowkey making me mad that there’s so few fics of him so i’m determined to just make them myself. i already have some ideas for a part two but it’ll have to wait until exams are over for me until i can really focus on writing a worthy pt. 2 so i proooomise to try and write one but sorry in advance if i end up abandoning it

also why the heck do like all of my fics take place in a bedroom??? i think it’s a sign i need to leave my house

you were awoken to a loud thud coming from your bedroom window slamming open.

immediately sitting up, you squint through foggy eyes, blinking rapidly as your heart races while you watch a figure struggle to climb through your window.

the sound of a familiar voice groaning as he falls onto your hardwood floors, just barely catching himself, eases you as you realize it’s not a burglar or cursed spirit.

“yuuji?” your voice comes out groggy and slightly whiny as you rub your eyes, leaning over the foot of your bed to look at the boy kneeling in front of your window.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”, he says calmly as he stands up and dusts his pyjama pants.

you blink slowly, what did you mean to do?

“what are you doing, yuuji?”, you groan, leaning on your wall as you glare at him, trying to hold onto the last bits of sleepiness.

“your door was locked”, he shrugs, his eyes scanning your room as he walks towards your bookcase, taking one of the books and skimming through it as he sits down on the edge of your bed, his back facing you.

you nudge him with your foot slightly but he just ignores you, “have you read this?” he asks as he flashes the book to you, so quickly you couldn’t even make out the title.

“yuuji.“

he lets out an exasperated sigh, leaning backwards against your calves as he places the book on the floor. “can’t a guy just come over to check on his best friend?”

“not at, like, 3 in the morning. but if it’s so important: i’m doing great, yuuj’. can you go back to your room now?”, you ask as you sway your knees slightly, causing him to move along with the movement.

he stays quiet, pushing his head through your knees as he now lays on your stomach, his arms loosely wrapped around your thighs like those handles on rollercoaster rides. “can i sleep here?” his voice is soft as he leans his head back slightly to catch your eyes with that innocent puppy-dog look on his face.

you let out an overdramatic groan, whining out his name in annoyance as he just gives you a sheepish smile. “i really need a good night of sleep”, you plead as you mindlessly brush fingers through his soft locks.

“i won’t bother you, i promise”, he says in a muffled tone as he’s turned to lay on his stomach, his chin resting painfully on your abdomen.

“you’re already bothering me”, you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the tingles you felt from his voice vibrating against your stomach.

he stays quiet, turning his head sideways as he lightly picks at your waist with his fingers, probably assuming if he just falls asleep right here and now you’ll have no choice but to fold and let him stay.

“you’re not sleeping here, yuuji”, you flick the back of his head, adjusting your position to try and push him off politely.

he gets up awkwardly, grabbing a pillow from your bed and setting it down on the floor, “look, i’ll just sleep on the floor. please?”

“no, yuuji! and that’s my favorite pillow, you can’t just take it”

“okay then give me the other one”

“it’s also my favorite…”

“then i’ll sleep without one. please, y/n, i had a nightmare. i don’t wanna be in my room”, he finally admits, and you’re sure you’d see red covering his face in embarrassment if the room was lit up enough.

you let out a sigh, throwing yourself back to lie in bed, turning to face the wall as you mumble out a “fine.”

“here, take your pillow”, you feel the object nudge your back.

“no, keep it”, you say quietly, already falling back into a deep slumber.

he lets out a gasp, “you’re giving me your favorite pillow?”

“i don’t have a favorite pillow, yuuji.”

he lets out a disappointed ‘oh’ before wishing you a good night and going to sleep himself.

or, i guess, trying to.

you listen to him restlessly move around and shuffle for at least ten minutes. you turn to face him, your eyes closed, just because the position is more comfortable.

and the shuffling stops, so you inch your eyes open to check if he’s finally fallen asleep, but nearly scream out of shock from the sight.

he’s practically sitting, only leaning on his elbows as he stares at you with furrowed eyebrows.

you jerk back, causing him to stumble too as he quickly lays back down, pretending to be asleep.

“yuuji, why the hell are you watching me sleep!?” you practically scream and he just yells out a ‘sorry!’ without explanation.

you lie in silence, questioning the universe what it was you did in a past life that was so horrible you were now stuck with this weirdo with no sense of boundaries or personal space.

but then you scoot closer to the wall, patting the space next to you, “come.” you call out like to a dog and following a brief pause he stumbles into your bed, grinning happily as his shoulder rubs against your own. “was your nightmare about me?”

you feel him freeze up slightly as he nods quietly.

you purse your lips, “do you wanna talk about it?”

he shakes his head.

“did i… die or something?”

you were well aware of the types of horrific nightmares that tend to haunt sorcerers. you had them, too.

he doesn’t respond but his silence is an answer enough.

you lean on your left elbow, facing him as he silently watches you reach for his hand resting on his stomach and lead it to the left side of your chest, pressing his palm against your ribcage engulfing your beating heart which now thumps slightly faster than usual.

“alive and well”, you say with a soft smile, dropping your hand from his but his stays put, then travels up your neck, then your hot cheek - grazing it softly as he pushes your hair back, his eyes never leaving the area he’s inspecting as if he’s making sure you’re real and you’re fine.

your eyes close as you ease into his touch, lying on your side as your head sinks into the overly soft pillow while his fingers still brush through your hair.

you don’t even realize the moment his touch puts you to sleep, or the moment he leaves the next morning. you only notice the void he’s left in your bed, and the want for him to cup your face again and graze your cheeks, chin, nose, lips, with his calloused fingers once more.

the next day he’s acting normal, and it’s not like he shouldn’t be. after all, nothing weird happened last night, nothing to directly ruin your friendship or stir things.

but it managed to stir you. and you realize you can no longer be friends with yuuji.

[angelkiko]

retired-poly!141 x dive-bar-singer!reader

warnings: none really! small mentions of self pleasing and cock : 3

CHAPTER ONE: stage

Johnny had gone out alone, only telling price who gave him a little nod and a "dont overdo it lad". He entered the usual shitty dive bar they frequented ever since retirement, it was the only one in town that didn't charge a fortune for beer. Post retirement, price moved them to a quant town, a very woodsy one at that where he managed to score them some old manor to live in. Johnny had no idea why it was that big, i mean 6 bedrooms? for what?

It had only been meer weeks after they retired, 6 weeks exactly. Yet, they still haven't gotten used to it, not used to the feeling of peace, not carrying the weight and dread of upcoming deployments, and not having to think about if all of them were going to come back form the next mission or not.

With a sigh he sat on a barstool, the bartender glancing at him to ask "the usual?" to which he nodded and was promptly slid a beer, which he slid a 5 dollar bill for.

He sighed, taking a swig of it to glance around. It was a lower end dive bar, the kind filled with bar fights and peeling leather booths. The barstools creaked, the lights were slightly dim, and the beer was cheap. Did anyone care? honestly not really.

However, there was a creaky wooden stage towards the back where bands usually preformed, bands comprised of college age kids trying to make some extra money while playing covers of weezer and green day. They weren't bad, but exactly what you'd expect from a place like this.

The stage was empty for a few moments, until he saw you. A pretty little thing, not older than early twenties step onto the stage. You stepped on with ease as if having done this a million times, which you have. Coming here once a week or so to collect tips, every night you had free from studying. However, johnny has never seen you until now, as they usually come on Thursdays.

You fixed the mic, greeting the bars crowd of middle aged men looking for a cheap place to drink. A soft smile let on your face, a smile too soft for this place, a smile that made johnny grip his beer tighter.

After a soft greeting, you began to sing over a backtrack. And johnny heard what he could only describe as the voice of an angel, he was enchanted instantly, like a moth to a flame. He sat there frozen, unable to look away and breathing slightly heavier than usual.

You sang for all of 30 minutes, and every now and again someone would come up to slip a 1 or a 5 into the jar by the stage. Something about the way you batted your eyelashes at the men who tipped made johnny shiver, he knew you were just doing it for a bigger tip but oh how it made his cock jump.

And almost too quick for his liking, you stepped off the stage and collected your tip money and disappeared. A slight ache of disappointment and longing entered his heart, price had always warned him he fell too quickly, but this? he had to have this one.

He would quickly walk up to the little sign up sheet by the stage, which is where he ended up finding out your name. It wasn't hard as there weren't a whole lot of names on there, mostly just band names. Y/n, a name that would haunt his dreams, nightmares, and the name he would moan as he imagined you. He noted that you were scheduled to preform tomorrow, and a grin slowly came on his face, he had to tell the team about what he just found

With quick steps he left the bar, throwing away the half full beer on the way out. he had to make sure he got the pretty little thing that had the audacity to waltz into his gaze. Because after all, what would someone like you be doing here? You were clearly too good for this place, and he wanted to just pick you up and wall you away all to himself, as he doesn't like sharing. He wanted you, and whatever johnny wants? his team makes sure he gets.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

A/N: srry if this is a tad short but i promise they'll interact in the next chapter i jst wanted to get the set up out of the way >_<

do lmk what yall think of my writing! i haven't written anything in a long time (ever since my fanfic writer era lol, so sorry if that shows), so do tell me if there's anything i can improve on.

small warning this series will be a little spicy and will probs have smut so if you like that keep reading ;)

you can imagine the song reader was singing but i like to pretend it was dealer by lana del rey ! (also apologies for any mistakes/grammar errors i wanted to get this out and was excited >_<)

with love, kiko. < 3

[bullet-prooflove]

Has Charlie ever been married/engaged before? You mentioned that he had been burned before so that’s why he 1) doesn’t invite back women to his house and 2) always sneaks out before they wake up.

P.S. I’m loving your insight into Charlie. You’re such a better writer than the ones they had working on the show.

It’s never really gotten to the married/engaged point before for him. It’s not even made it to a place where he’s contemplated it.

There are several different reasons behind this that focus on different times of his life:

Early career – He did not want to settle. He was very goal focused and his plan was make it through the police academy and get on the detective track as fast as he could after putting his time in on uniform. He had casual dalliances during this time, women he met in bars, maybe some fuck buddy circumstances with someone in the academy but there was nothing serious because his focus was on the job and making his bones to get noticed by the departments he wanted to specialise in, which meant putting in face time with detectives and learning from them. – Think Adam in the first few seasons with Al mentoring him.

Detective Track – once Charlie’s a detective he’s still working hard but he allows himself to contemplate the possibility of relationships. He’s also beginning to establish his idea of home at this point, thinking of using the money that was left from the sale of his parent’s house to buy his own.

Charlie was actually very clever financially because he ended up doing the Public Safety Officer Home Buyer Assistance Program, it encourages police officers, firefighters, and paramedics to purchase homes in targeted neighbourhoods to revitalize those areas. They get the houses at a discounted rate, live in them for five years and get a return on the initial loan. Charlie did this with at least four houses, doing them up and selling them when the neighbourhood started to turn around or was gentrified, making a fuck ton of money. All of this to say, he was starting to think about settling.

He starts to date outside the department however… he discovers that the way he works isn’t compatible with a relationship. People love the idea of Charlie the cop, but they don’t love the reality of it. The long hours, the missed dinners, the job being the priority. He ends up getting very serious with a woman named Shania, only to find her in bed with another man when he comes home to surprise her. In the row that ensues, she tells him EVERYTHING that is wrong with him and it is cutting. He dates casually after that because he realises all his relationships will inevitably have a shelf life because he’s not willing to compromise on the job.

Commander Position and Onwards – When his career advances past Lieutenant his hours become more regular, so naturally Charlie starts to consider settling down again. He’s just bought the brownstone, his forever home – wouldn’t it be lovely to have someone to share it with? His social calendar is usually filled with political events which means a different calibre of women. Smart ambitious ones. The key here is ambitious.

He ends up dating Victoria the council woman and he is very smitten. She’s a political animal, he’s becoming one to raise up the ranks, they make a good team… Until Charlie realises she’s using him for her own agenda, using his tragic backstory to offset her privilege, making her seem more down to earth for dating someone blue collar because it reaches out to constituents in a certain bracket she’s not had access to before. He discovers all of this when he picks up a copy of the Tribune one morning to find that’ve run a profile on him alongside a three page spread on Victoria. His history, the private things he’s told her about his mom, his dad and care… all of it is laid bare for everyone, including his colleagues to read. He breaks things off immediately, telling her to lose his number.

This whole actually works in his favour because that’s the kind of passion and dedication the CPD want in their ranks. He’s promoted to Deputy Chief, however his dating returns to casual, one night stands after that because he can’t envision opening up to someone like that again because the betrayal cut so deep.

[mochineesan]

YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING THERE!

Personally, whenever I think of Bernard with powers, I just feel like he would have healing powers. I can't imagine it any other way. He's the group's medic, and he's able to self-regenerate so he can fight however and wherever he wants, I also think it would add more flexibility and strength to his body.

He doesn't know it, but he's a natural meta; he was born with those powers. But they would never have activated if it weren't for the cult. They moved something, and that's why his powers manifest

It started out a bit strange. He noticed he hadn't gotten sick for so long, that when he cut himself, he didn't feel it, and even if the cut was big enough, it healed very quickly. When he connected the dots, he was terrified to bits, even though he always thought it would be cool to have powers and be a meta, he could only relate these new powers to the cult. He thought they did something else to him, that they altered his DNA while he was unconscious or something, and worse, he could only think that they could control him with those powers.

He didn't tell Tim, God no. All he could think was, what if Tim saw him as a monster? He got a little paranoid. Tim definitely didn't know what the Cult was like, what they did to him. Bernard would never forget it, it's something you only understand if you experience it. He didn't want to distrust Tim, but he also wasn't sure how he would react positively to "Hey, so now I have these powers right after being part of a cult, do you think it has to do with that?"

He hid it as much as he could until, on a date with Tim, one of those spontaneous situations in Gotham happened where they get attacked. Tim told him to run, and when, as always, they separated, Bernard hid in an alley. He saw people getting hurt. He cursed himself for being so aware of his surroundings and then thanked himself for always having a mask in his bag and wearing his hoodie that day. So he just ran around, taking advantage of his recent energy boost and improved fitness, and healed everyone he encountered. Of course, the bats noticed him, Red Robin noticed him. At first, he suspected him, then after some investigation, he discovered Gotham's mysterious new meta. Who presumably only appeared to heal the wounded he found and then left without a trace.

Here, the idea fell a little short; I don't know what could happen in the midst of all that. But somehow, Bernard decides he won't let the cult control him, if that's who gave him those powers. So in true Peter Parker fashion, he dons his suit and travels to Young Justice headquarters when Tim is on a "business trip." And of course, he arrives in the middle of a fight. And he helps them, because even though his powers are primarily healing, he knows how to fight very well, and he also has a physical advantage thanks to those same powers. Tim immediately knows he's Gotham's meta, and confronts him, as the leader of the YJ. Bernard asks to be on the team, but avoids at all costs the reason or his origin.He basically presents himself as a guy who came from nowhere with good intentions and wants to help.

I've had this idea for a long time, I even have a name for Bernard, it's super basic But I think he would call himself "Healer"

Alright, so looking into Young Justice Outsiders and Phantoms, I think Bernard being a metahuman in that particular DC universe would make a lot of sense.

Similar events to the comics happen at Louis Grieve High and Tim and Bernard end up going separate ways. However, Bernard doesn't join the pain cult in this universe. Instead, after a terrible fight with his parents (most likely over his sexualit), he runs away from home and ends up being kidnapped by one of the groups trafficking metahumans and is tested for a mete gene. It turns out he does have a meta gene, and they experiment on him to learn more about his abilities.

Eventually, this group is dealt with thanks to the Justice League/Young Justice and this is when Tim sees Bernard again. Tim is Robin at the time, but still approaches Bernard and checks in with him.

Bernard tells Robin then that he currently doesn't have anywhere to go home to as he doesn't want to return to his parents. Robin recommends he stay at a recently built Meta-Human Youth Center in Gotham (funded by the Wayne Foundation, of course).

So Bernard ends up staying there, and Tim stops by to reunite with him as his civilian self this time. While he's there, Tim learns that the staff of the center have decided to keep Bernard in their care permanently for the time being as his powers are unpredictable and hard for him to control.

Cue Tim wanting to help Bernard control his powers and visiting frequently to spend time with him. Then gay TimBer shenanigans ensue.

Also I know in Young Justice there's a Meta-Human Youth Center established in Taos already, but I like the idea of one being in Gotham because I think it would be nice for Duke to visit the center as he is aslo a meta-human learning about his own powers and he meets Bernard.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not Impressed – Tyler Owens

"Explain to me why we drove forty minutes to see a group of storm chasers?" I asked as we finally got out of the car. I instantly stretched, trying to get any relief for my back.

"Only because they are the best!" My friend, Lily, giggled.

"You mean, the hottest," I corrected, sending her a knowing look.

"Tyler Owens is GORGEOUS!" Mandy sighed dramatically.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "And will most likely die, chasing a damn weather report."

"I know how you feel about. . ."

"Don't," I cut off Jess. "You pestered me for days to come here. I'm here. That doesn't mean I have to hop on the same hopeless bandwagon and goo and gaw over these guys."

"You can at least enjoy how sexy Tyler looks," Mandy smirked.

"For the time being," I mumbled under my breath.

Luckily, I was saved by the over-the-top truck and RV pulling into the rest stop/gas station. I honestly had no idea how my friends knew that the YouTube-famous Tornado Wranglers would stop here. These guys may be good at tracking national disasters, but my friends were good at tracking people.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as my friends started screaming and excitedly jumping up and down. I could only handle their fangirling for so long. To save myself from second-hand embarrassment, I turned on my heel and headed into the gas station.

I absent-mindedly roamed around, grabbing a few snacks and drinks. I checked out and let out a disappointed sigh when I saw my friends still shamelessly flirting with the Tornado Wranglers.

I walked over to the picnic tables and slowly ate some of the snacks. A lot more time passed. I finished the snacks, but stayed at the picnic table. I knew my friends would come and find me when they were ready to leave.

"Hiya, darling."

I looked up from my phone to see the head storm chaser smirking at me. I smiled politely at him before turning my attention back to my phone.

"I'm Tyler," he introduced himself.

"I know," I shrugged, not looking up from my phone.

"Would you like a picture?" He asked, clearly fishing. "Or a signature? Or a shirt?"

I looked up at him with no amusement on my face. "What makes you think I'm here for you?"

"Well. . . You're here and. . ."

"My friends wanted to see you," I clarified as I stood up and threw my trash away in a nearby trash can. "I, unfortunately, was dragged along."

"Unfortunately," he repeated, clearly surprised. "So you're not. . ."

"Impressed that you chase after tornadoes instead of doing something worthwhile with your life?" I taunted. "No, not at all."

* * * * *

I walked out of the motel office and sighed when I saw that tornado chaser and his friends talking in the parking lot. I quickened my step, hoping to go unnoticed.

It didn't work.

"Well, if it isn't Ms. Not Impressed."

"If it isn't Mr. Trying To Kill Himself," I shot back as I kept walking.

"Whoa," he stuttered. "That seems a bit harsh."

I was hoping he'd give up as I jogged up the stairs, but he didn't. "At least tell me your name!" He called after me.

I stopped walking and crossed my arms over my chest. "Why?"

"So I don't have to keep calling you boring nicknames," he tried to flirt. He tried to pout to get me to give in, but it didn't work. What did work was me realizing that he would probably follow me to my room if I didn't tell him.

"Y/N," I said before walking away.

"Now, was that so hard?" He asked as he chased after me.

"It was painful," I mumbled. He started walking with me and kept looking at me as he got closer.

"I'm Tyler," he reminded me.

"Congratulations," I scoffed.

"What's with you?"

I stopped walking and turned toward him. He cleared his throat as he apologized. "I'm sorry. I just. . . I'm not used to women not fawning all over me."

"Hopefully, you've learned something from it."

"Why aren't you swooning?" He asked.

"Seriously?" I scoffed. "Does it matter?"

"Actually," he said, slightly clearing his throat, "it does."

"It's simple," I sighed. "I'm not into your type."

"My type?"

"Adreneline junkies."

"I wouldn't consider myself an adrenenline junkie," he stuttered.

"Adreneline junkies only care about one thing," I scoffed. "The next big chase or jump or whatever. They don't care about the people in their lives. They would happily die chasing the next big thing, not giving a damn about the person they leave behind."

I turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait!" He yelled, chasing after me.

"No," I spun toward him, catching him by surprise. "I will not wait. You know something, Tornado Wrangler, I've been here before. I used to be in love with an adrenaline junkie just like you. And guess what? The adrenaline won. And I had to bury him."

"Oh," he said under his breath. "Y/N. . . I'm sorry. Maybe we could. . ."

"No," I cut him off. "You seem like a decent guy, but I am not getting my heart broken by another adrenaline junkie."

Part 2 Coming Soon

[shedelulululu]

omg 33!!!

33. things you said from across the room (full list here)

light smut | M | mel is a bit tipsy! | 2.1k also on ao3

Mel liked to party. Unfortunately life had other plans for her. Halfway through undergrad she lost both her parents in a matter of 6 months, unrelated causes. Overnight she became a Real Adult, she had a sister to take care of, bills to pay, tests to study for.

She didn’t resent Becca for the invites rejected, and rejected, until they just stopped coming. She could never feel that way towards her. But, she still felt like she was missing out — on friends, potential boyfriends or situationships, beer pong tournaments, getting high and watching Nathan For You surrounded by giggling friends. She wished she got more sleep, that she ate better, that she had more room to try things — more room to make mistakes. It’s not the life she dreamed of — would anyone dream of losing their parents? — but it’s still good, she’s grateful despite it all, because Becca is her best friend, and how could she not feel full when she makes her happy.

So when Becca gets invited to a sleepover with one of her new friends at the centre, Mel jumps at the chance to say yes.

“Are you free Saturday night?” Santos flicks her head to Mel who approached her left. An open mouthed smile pulling at her lips.

“Why Melodrama? You finally ready to switch teams and admit the big fat crush you have on me?”

An aggressively fond smile forces itself on Mel, powerless to suppress it. “I do have a healthy respect of your girlfriend” — “ you mean fear” — “and I’m quite happy with my ‘team’ thank you.”

Santos gave her a disbelieving look, questioning the mere notion that any straight woman is happy with her options. She shot back one of her unimpressed frowns.

“Ugh you’re no fun…just one kiss?” the frown deepens “yes I’m free, you need help moving or something? I’m great with a u-haul” she shoots finger guns in what Mel has decided in some sort of disarming technique.

“No… Becca has a sleepover —” Santos eyes light up, unable to resist interrupting.

“Did you give her the Talk?”

“It’s not that kind of sleepover—” Mel implores.

“I’m just saying she’s an adult too and she’s not disinterested, you’ve seen her romance novel collection”

Mel blinks a couple times “you really think…? I guess it couldn’t hurt to refresh.” She shakes her head, refocusing the conversation to her initial plan “I’d like to take you up on your offer to go out. I’m inviting Samira and Langdon — no complaints.” A beat “invite whoever you want, just not the new med students, I don’t think they like me.”

Santos salutes her with a puzzled look “Aye Aye King!”

Mel glances at the board, thankful Dana is not at the central hub or else she’d realize was Mel was not actually finding a patient to pick up. She was calculating, given a set of symptoms, the time admitted, the nurse on the case, she could figure out with near certainty which room Langdon was in at any given moment.

Central 11. Kid with a rash.

She stands just outside, pretends to review a chart but the screen was off.

He emerges from the room, med student in tow, going over the differential diagnosis. He notices Mel as they’re discussing the treatment plans. He flashes her a smile. Quickly schooling his face, he gives instructions to the med student, sending them on their way. She should really learn their names.

“Need something, Mel?” he asks, leaning against the wall, “got an interesting case?”

Seeing the light in his eye as he imagines what kind of complicated case would have her seeking his advice as a PGY3, almost makes her feel bad that she she has nothing of the sort to offer.

“I do have a request, but it’s not work related”

His brow furrows “is it something with Becca?”

“Yes!” she replies on instinct “oh but not like that” she cringes a bit “Trinity found out Becca has a sleepover on Saturday—”

“Did you give her the talk?” he waggles his eyebrows, gleeful at the idea of Becca doing something about her myriad of Centre crushes.

“Why does everyo— I have Becca handled, thank you. As I was saying, she forced me into agreeing to go out with her and I’d really appreciate the back up.” She gives him a small smile, looking up at him through her lashes — Samira had told her that he wouldn’t be able to say no to her if she gave him this look.

He runs a hand down his face, an aggrieved sigh escaping his lips “yeah Mel, I got your back.”

She beams up at him, “I’ll text you the details!” She rushes away to catch up on patients before Robby catches on to her lacklustre performance today and starts asking questions.

Mel loves the music. She loves that it is dark. And she loves the way she feels after 2 gin and tonics and 1.5 tequila shots.

Parts of her mind feel quiet for once. The voice telling her that bodies jostling around her burned like a brand, instead feel comforted by the union of a crowd brought together to dance as individuals, all together. Which is perhaps a generous description for what was occurring in a club, on a random Saturday, in Pittsburgh — but she felt good, and a little romantic about life.

She really missed this.

Well, not this part.

Mel invited Langdon for a reason, between a little liquid courage on her part, and an aspirationally enticing outfit — Samira helped her get dressed, she selected a white a-line mini skirt with two small slits over her thighs, and a powder blue one shoulder crop top — surely one of them would finally crack. Mel is tired of them dancing around each other, every day at work, most days off work, for nearly a year now.

Mel did not anticipate her outfit attracting the attention of people other than Langdon. Yet here she is, cornered by a strange man while the rest of her friends were off to god knows where.

She didn’t know his name, honestly she couldn’t tell you if he had introduced himself. She could only hear her mind screaming how wrong he was. He is just a bit taller than her, sandy blond hair, dull grey eyes, and a very clammy hand that just wouldn’t leave her shoulder no matter how many times she pointedly shrugs.

She is searching over his shoulder, really how did he think she was at all interested in talking to him, looking for Samira (outside, texting someone), or Santos (making out with someone to bring home to her girlfriend) — she isn’t confident Whitaker could help, no offense, Which left one person.

He isn’t close, but there is a direct line of sight from where she stands to where he leans up against the bar — chatting with the bartender who happened to have been a frat brother of his.

He is staring at her. A problem, usually, but right now she couldn’t find it in herself to complain, because she really needs him.

She widens her eyes at him, mouthing a brief “help me” before returning to a conversation she did not ask for.

“Sarah!” she hears his voice and is confused by the name, shooting him a look.

He waves his hand, gesturing for her to play along. “Sarah, I haven’t seen you in what 5 years? I can’t believe that’s really you!”

She looks up in awe as he uses his body to push out what’s-his-name, positioning himself in front of her, and it doesn’t even read as aggressive. She envied him for this; she always felt flustered, or shut down in the face of conflict, and he was always so cool about it, unflappable. On top of all that, it was unbelievably hot to her whenever she was witness to him telling off patients.

“Um, yeah just in town visiting family and friends” she keeps glancing to their right, where who-cares-who has not yet gotten the hint to leave.

He sniggers to himself, turning towards the nameless man “hey man, can you leave.” It is phrased like a question but Frank’s voice leaves no room for interpretation, it’s an order.

She laughs to herself, watching him walk away, disappearing into the crowd sheepishly.

“Y’know we could’ve been the ones to leave?” she says, laughter still lacing her voice.

“Maybe, I like this corner” he says with a smirk.

She’s smiling still, but she squints at him, searching for an answer. She feels like he is trying to flirt with her, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Thank you for getting rid of him, by the way.”

“Anytime Mel. I’m surprised he didn’t pick up on you not being interested—” she could feel his eyes skating over her legs, her chest, her lips, “maybe he just didn’t care.”

Mel hates being dishonest, with herself and with others. She has never been good at hiding her feelings anyways and holding this in, pretending whatever this is wasn’t happening, is eating her alive.

“Why aren’t we dating?” she blurts. The additional half tequila shot doing it’s job.

“Jesus, Mel.” A helpful response. He would regret it later, but right now his brain is frozen.

She pouts “I really like you Frank, and I know I’m really not the best at reading people — I’ve been informed of at least 4 people I didn’t realize were flirting with me. But I like to think I’m pretty good with you, and I think you like me too” she takes a breath, shoulders sagging, “and I’m really tired of almost having something. So — is there a reason?”

His gaze darkens, moving into her space, a sharp ledge digs into her back, his leg slotting between hers. His hand skims across her waist, the other cupping the nape of her neck.

“I guess not” he whispered, closing the distance between them. She hikes her right leg around his waist, arms looping around his neck, pushing herself even closer to him.

It is like everything clicks into place having him like this. Lips that were always made to slot against hers, finally finding their way home. His body sliding into place with hers, engulfing her in a way that she never knew could be so addicting.

He moves his attention to her neck, nipping, sucking, kissing. It feels like her body is on fire. His hand travels to grip her bottom, a faux move to readjust her position.

It’s involuntary when she whines as he detaches himself to look her in the eyes.

He squeezes her cheek twice, a confused and cautiously excited look on his face.

She bites her bottom lip, her face heats up, but her eyes never stray from his “I—uhm, I’m not wearing underwear.” She rocks against his thigh, chasing any sort of relief as her pleasure builds.

His jaw is hanging open, if Santos could see him she’d call out the ‘stupid’ expression on his face. He moves his hand just a bit further, just under the short hem of her skirt.

“Oh, you hate me” he groans.

She grabs his wrist, pushing his long fingers towards her entrance.

“I think you’ll find evidence to the — ah! — contrary” she struggles to maintain her composure as he easily pushes two digits into her, soaking and relaxed for him.

She can’t remember now why she was ever so afraid, it seemed like with everything else, nothing was difficult when it was with him. She could never lose her confidence in his hands.

“You — you are something else sweetheart,” he nudges her down onto his denim clad thigh, encouraging her to grind. He grins when he sees the dark line forming on the fabric. “I can’t believe I denied myself this for so long” he kisses her again, briefly, peppering kisses up to her temple, “didn’t think I was right, like I deserved you.”

“Mm—! Don’t, ever” she’s panting lightly between words “make a decision like that for me ever again.” She bites his earlobe, kissing down his jaw to work on his neck.

“Mel, baby, I will do anything you want for the rest of our lives, IF you leave with me right now because I’m not giving you an orgasm with Whitaker 30 feet away.”

She laughs brightly, smiling up at him as she disentangles their limbs.

“My apartment is empty, and I could really use someone to fill it.”

He shakes his head, smiling at the ground as he processes her double meaning.

“Lead the way Melibu Barbie” he lays one hand over her shoulder.

She rests her hand over his, chuckling, “oh that’s a good one!”

[gece-misin-nesin]

I am a self-professed hater of the Master of the Heavenly Yard novel. I think there are a bunch of problems with it, and here are the main ones for clarity's sake:

The antagonists and their plan are incredibly out of left field and are only kind of foreshadowed vaguely in album booklets

The antagonist LINEUP is weird (irina, gallerian, gammon, etc.)

There are not enough cameos and especially not enough cameos that MATTER

Allen is suddenly the main character despite not mattering ever since Cloture of Yellow and Wiegenlied of Green (discounting his cameos in other novels such as Fith, Pierrot)

People's character arcs disappear for no reason (Specifically Rilliane)

If you don't want to read what is more of a rant than actual critique/analysis, the TLDR is that I think there should have been another novel between Muzzle of Nemesis and Master of the Heavenly Yard. From here on I will mostly use acronyms and shortened names for stuff.

The antagonists and their plan is incredibly out of left field and is only kind of foreshadowed vaguely in album booklets

and

The antagonist LINEUP is weird (irina, gallerian, gammon, etc.)

Number 1 and 2 kind of go together, so I'll talk about them interchangably. The biggest issue with these two is that they both suffer from "hey, where did THIS come from?".

This is mainly because, for some reason, mothy (the writer) never elaborated on Evils Theater, its inhabitants, and what the fuck they're doing at any point. We only get minor glimpses like Capriccio Farce or the album booklets. On its own, this isn't so bad. We have a lot of stuff we don't know about Evillious' history. However, most of those things don't end up being incredibly important in the literal FINALE of the series.

Now, the final villain in the mothy novel is Ma. However, for a large portion of the book, our main antagonists are: Gammon, Gallerian, Michelle, Irina, Adam (kind of), and Eve (kind of). Now, I don't think I really need to spell out why this is an odd group but I will anyways.

First, we get no indication that ALL of these guys TOGETHER somehow had enough contact with each other to form a detailed plan regarding the end of the world.

Two, Gammon and Gallerian are enemies, meaning them being in the same group (and I recall them being in the same place at some parts of the novel) without serious infighting needs an explanation. We never get one.

Three, when did they make this plan considering Gallerian has been dead for years? In fact, HOW did they make this plan? How did they come to the conclusion that they HAVE to destroy the sinners to stop Ma....instead of just like, killing her? And you can say "But Ma was presumed to be killed by Nemesis!" but that would mean they started to plan just before the world ended. I find that hard to believe. How did they come to the conclusion they have to go back in time? No idea.

Four, why does Gallerian agree to this plan when he KNOWS the sinners have to be destroyed. Aka himself. And let's say that somehow Gallerian accepts dying for the greater good or whatever..why does he let Michelle make a contract with Eve for the plan then!? Her becoming the main contractor for sloth means she HAS to die. This is the same Gallerian that does everything for his daughter and the same Gallerian who ends his song saying he'll come back and achieve his goals to create a paradise for himself and his daughter. I don't even like the guy, but how exactly does this make sense with his previous characterization?

Five, why is Michelle here. HOW is Michelle here? She was in the Heavenly Yard for decade(s), so she couldn't have communicated with them beforehand. Moreover, she was a sheltered, innocent 16 year old when she died. How on earth is she now a terrorist who's fine with suicide if it means saving the world or resetting it?

Six, how did Gallerian learn some important lore for this plan? Uhh because there was randomly a black box belonging to Luna Hazuki in the Hellish Yard....for some reason.

Seven, how did Adam realize Irina was Maria which set off the events that led to him being Neo Adam? Idk

Eight, why does Irina suddenly decide she wants to save the world? Idk. You can argue that it's because she changed her perspective due to her time as Michelle, but that's subtext at best. Her suddenly wanting to save the world technically fits with her NOT being an actual HER as of OSS:C and P, but I'm not sure how much that was preplanned. Besides, I'm still not a fan of that specific reveal because it means unlike every other HER, Irina was just a normal person who wanted to destroy the entire world not because she had a fantasy illness but..because she just really wanted to I guess? But I digress, this is OSS territory.

Nine, pretty minor but, how does Irina make the entire THEATER her body, something unprecedented in the series before this?

Some of these may have been answered in the novel and it's possible I just forgot, in that case please correct me.

Onto our third point:

There are not enough cameos and especially not enough cameos that MATTER

Technically I can just answer this one with "Nyoze" and be done with it, but I won't.

-Nyoze doesn't exist for some reason even though he has a significant connection to Nemesis, one of the main characters of the novel, and is literally in the Court Ending and OSS

-Arte and Pollo are reduced to Banica's servants (this is more an issue I have with their writing THROUGHOUT the series and this was the perfect time to address it) even though their roles as Hansel, Gretel, Ney, and Lemy could have been impactful and tied up loose ends. Lemy is Irina's adopted son, and we have a bunch of Pride Arc cameos here INCLUDING Mariam, Ney's adoptive mother. Also Prim is in the background a lot here for some reason. I get that she was a contractor too, but there were other minor contractors? I guess it was because they weren't HERs..

-Germaine and Allen are somehow on great terms despite their terrible parting

-Despite the abundance of Pride Arc cameos, most of them don't mean jack shit story wise. We literally don't get an actual Three Heroes reunion. What the fuck. Also does Allen even talk to Leonhart?

-Despite the Pride Arc cameos, we don't see most characters from the Greed/Wrath arcs, even though Ma, Gallerian, and Gammon are all antagonists in this novel and there are a lot of characters connected to them (such as the members of PN)

-Do we get any cameos from the Envy arc? The Sloth arc? The original PN?

Allen is suddenly the main character despite not mattering ever since Cloture of Yellow and Wiegenlied of Green (not counting his cameos in other novels)

Now, I know mothy (the author) intended the series to start and end with the twins. I can accept that. The problem is that the series never gives a reason for it? It feels very abrupt. Even if I'm generous and start counting after the Pride Arc, Allen hasn't been relevant for about 6 novels at this point. I suppose Tailor of Enbizaka counts..but eh. That's not even mentioning Rilliane herself, who at least got to be relevant as Postman and Lillith but otherwise wasn't very important either.

Anyway, if we had gotten a novel inbetween Muzzle and mothy, this problem could have been fixed. Alternatively, Allen could have reincarnated more than once, thus keeping him in the story.

People's character arcs disappear for no reason

Just saying "Rilliane" instead of "People" would probably more accurate here, but eh. Honestly this might be the most minor point, but it's still annoying.

Rilliane, in her past life, died as an old woman. Let's say around her 80s or so. She also had a redemption arc where she stopped being..you know, the 'daughter of evil'. In her 2nd life, she was a normal person. In her 3rd life, she had issues, but she wasn't terrible either. However, when she dies...she's in her 14 year old self and is STILL a spoiled princess.

I'm sorry, but if you want Allen and Rilliane to be the main characters and the literal bookends, why are you ignoring Rilliane's character development literally her BIGGEST aspect in the pride arc? That just makes her character seem static, contradictory, and unsatisfying. Because you erased the development that you wrote and showed the viewer in the very first novels!

And that's it. That's my thesis on "Why Master of the Heavenly Yard Sucks, and Why There Should Have Been Another Novel Before It". Thank you for reading until this point.

PS. One of the few good things was Ma's writing. Absolutely superb.