#maybe I’m forgetting something hmm

[crisis-and-cream]

So…does James just, have tracking powers too? Like in ch 8 of Dark Rise it seems like he’s doing a ritual with the Remnants and I’m wondering if that’s the Remnants’ ability and James is amplifying them or it’s both parties. And I don’t think it’s just because of the connection he and Will have because why would he need the torn fabric from Will’s jacket? I’m hoping the third book explores this. Maybe if he has something that belonged to Sinclair, they could find him?

[blaithnne]

The first Heron design I showed off was from before Confidential Casefiles, so I thought I’d show you guys her look after she gets her new arm. Plus a few changes I made to her character for this AU! Just realised the way I placed my signature makes it look like I’M her worst enemy, whoops.

Meet the Cast!

╰┈➤ Canon ☄. *. ⋆

→ Scrooge McDuff → Matilda McDuff → Hortense McDuff → Qalhata Duiker → Goldie O'Gilt → Jack Duckworth → Bentina Beakley → LÙ Huifen (pre-caseflies) → Ludwig Von Druska → Bradford Butcher

╰┈➤ OCs ☄. *. ⋆

→ Lucrais NicRiada

.ೃ࿐

[daemaid]

Can I just say that I feel it’s a little odd that the Mystic Seller just rips Narinder from whatever afterlife he went to just to give him up as a prize?

I get that game-play wise this was to allow people who chose to kill him post-battle access to a unique follower that would have been unobtainable before, but story-wise it just has me like ??? Why did they do that???

Idk maybe I’m missing something, but was anyone else sorta weirded out by this part of the game?

[calypsocolada]

how they are when they're jealous... ft. giyu, mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, rengoku, tengen, & hotaru

authors note: hello. with this new season of demon slayer i felt inspired. lemme know if you guys want more. i sort of went a little crazy with tengen's and hotaru's little stories. ENJOY!

cw: lots of death talk in hotaru's part, maybe slightly suggestive, not proofread

wc: 5k

click here for my masterlist

Giyu hides his jealousy way too well. You two had worked together for a very long time. The first few months of knowing him you didn’t even know if he knew your name let alone that you existed to him. He was not very open so you left him alone the best you could. That was until one day you were eating peacefully and he came and sat next to you. You were stunned, your chewing paused as you slowly looked over at him. He was sitting cross legged beside you, quietly opening his wrapped food. When he noticed you looking he paused and met your eyes.

“Hm?” He hummed, as though he sat next to you all the time. As though you two had said more than three words to each other in months. You didn’t want to scare him off so you just gently shook your head. 

“Nothing.” You answered, looking back down at your food, swallowing nervously. Giyu returned his look to his food and out of the corner of your eyes you saw him pause. 

“Are you… friendly with Sanemi?” He asked. You furrowed your brow, chancing a glance at him. He met your eyes with a curious stare. 

“Sanemi?” You repeated. He nodded his head once. You purse your lips. You were friendly with all the hashira’s except him but you didn’t think that was exactly what he was asking. Well to be honest you weren’t really sure what he was asking so you decided to play it safe.

“Hmm… yes. He’s a friend.” You answer. His face doesn’t reveal anything as he nods his head again, looking back at his food. You wonder if you answered correctly as he suddenly pulls out a little white sweets box. The very same sweets that you would buy as a treat for yourself after missions. 

“Just a friend?” He asks as you nod your head, blushing slightly. Giyu looks relieved and hands the sweets over to you without a word. 

“Oh… for me?” You ask and he nods his head. When you reach to take it your hands brush and you swear his cheeks pinken.

-

You didn’t think Mitsuri ever got jealous until a few years into your relationship. You two often had missions together which meant you also had time off at the same time. Hiking to the swordsmith village to relax. After settling in you two hit the kitchen. The only thing that could rival your love for each other was your love for food. There were a few other hashira’s around and when you couldn’t pop a jar open you handed it over, sighing, to the closest person, which wasn’t your girlfriend. Shinobu popped it open for you and you continued to help prep the food. That’s when you noticed Mitsuri pouting and when you met her eyes she blushed and looked away embarrassed, returning to helping prepare food. You didn’t think much about it but at dinner she was quiet. You wanted to ask if something was wrong but you didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the other hashira’s so you waited until you two were headed back to your shared cabin. Once out of ear shot you reached and tucked her hair behind her ear so you were able to see her face. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked, still blushing she shrugged it off, shaking her head.

“No… nothing’s wrong, dear.” She answered quickly. It was an obvious lie.

“Did someone say something to you? To make you upset?”

“No… it’s… nothing important.” She said with a soft shake of her head, like she was trying to trick herself into forgetting about it. You laced your fingers with hers. 

“If you're upset then it’s important. Come on, just tell me.” You prodded gently. She gave a little sigh and you could tell she was a little embarrassed but still she opened up to you.

“I’m strong… you know,” She starts, wearily looking over at you.

“I know that.” 

“I can open things. Lift things…. You know, you don’t need anyone else to do that kind of stuff.” Slowly you nodded your head, trying to understand what she was saying. “I just wanted you to know that.” You gave her hand a gentle squeeze and that’s when it hit you. You absentmindedly let someone open a jar for you. It really was a small thing but you knew Mitsuri liked to be strong for you. You turned to hide your smile, you pulled her hand to your lips and kissed her knuckles. “That… reminds me, honey, I’m exhausted…” “You want me to carry you?” She asks excitedly as you softly laughed, nodding your head. MItsuri sweeps you off your feet with ease and you can tell she’s forgotten all about being upset.

-

Obanai doesn’t necessarily get jealous, it's more of a territorial thing. You thought for sure he hated you, little did you know he worshiped you from the start. Sometimes you’d have missions with him and he'd speak about three words to you and sometimes when you were lucky he’d speak full sentences. You didn’t know until later on it was because he was so damn nervous around you. On this particular mission, after slaying the demon, you two went out for drinks. It was wholly awkward so you excused yourself from the table and found your way to the bar. The bartender thanked you for helping with the demon and it felt nice to talk with someone. This whole thing played out for maybe two minutes before the bartender froze, eyes fearful as he glanced behind you. You furrowed your brows and turned as Obanai approached. 

“We received another mission, we should get going.” He says as you sigh, nodding your head, he placed some money on the counter for your drinks.

“T-the drinks are on the house.” The bartender offered but Obanai just slid the money over, his eyes sharpening. You watched the whole thing, sort of speechless. When you followed him out he held the door open for you and gave one more heated glance at the bartender. The village you two were currently stationed at was quiet and peaceful. 

“Where are we headed next?” You asked as you fell into step with him.

“A few towns over.” He answered and you nodded your head, knowing that was just about as much talking you're probably getting out of him tonight. “Unless you wanted to stay.” 

“Stay here?” You asked, he was walking a few steps ahead of you. He didn’t answer. “I wouldn’t have minded having a few more drinks.” You joked.

“With that bartender?” He added and you didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice. You paused, deciding whatever you said next you had to tread lightly. You could tease him or you could clear things up. 

“At least he talks to me.” You said. He stopped, turning to face you.

“Anything enlightening?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You said and he raised his head just slightly.

“I would.”

“I’m joking, he was just thanking us for taking care of that demon.” You said truthfully as Obanai nodded his head, turning away from you as you walked. You didn’t want the conversation to end. Even though you two never talked much before you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice, wanting more of his attention. Unwittingly you had all of his attention most of the time. You couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You make me nervous,” Obanai says over his shoulder. “That’s why I don’t talk much.”

“Oh,” You were stunned. He turned to face you again and you gave him a soft smile, you wanted him to feel comfortable with you. “Is it because I talk too much?” You ask. Obanai instantly shakes his head ‘no’. 

“Don’t stop. I like the sound of your voice.” It almost sounded like a plea.

-

Sanemi lets it be known he’s jealous, he doesn’t care to hide it. Someone’s talking with you, smiling and laughing a bit too much with you? There’s Sanemi saddling up beside you, hand sliding around you to rest on your hip as he pulls you a bit closer to him. He’s shameless. When he first met you, you were in training to be a hashira under Tengen and Sanemi would watch your workouts sometimes. He’d always watch with this sort of intense expression and sometimes it caught you off guard and distracted you. In those moments Tengen would take you to the floor, huffing. 

“I’m going to ban him from our training sessions if you can’t focus.” Tengen said, he straddled you, pressing you into the dirt as you cleared your throat.

“I’m so sorry sir, it won’t happen again.” And at least for the rest of practice that day you kept your eyes on your teacher. But after Tengen was finished with you he ruffled your hair.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with if you keep your eyes off the wind hashira.” He said and you turned bright red, unable to chirp back at him so he laughs heartily and waves as he leaves. You sigh, turning as Sanemi grabs a practice sword. You watch as he swings it around before pointing it towards you. 

“Tengen’s a handsy guy. Already has three wives but watch out and you’ll be his fourth.” Sanemi stated dryly. You were exhausted from training and the way Sanemi moved closer to you you wondered if he was wanting to train you a bit himself. Sanemi circles you like a predator. You feel his eyes on every part of your body as you swallow dryly. When he walked back around the front he tossed you the sword and you caught it with ease. He grabbed a sword himself. 

“I… am exhausted, Sanemi.” You huffed and he gave you a heated look. 

“One round.” He points the tip at you. You swallowed down a sigh and pointed your sword right back at him. You weren’t bad by any means but you weren’t even close to the level of a hashira. Sanemi worked around your blade with practiced ease and you realized right there and then that Tengen was certainly going easy on you because Sanemi had backed you up in seconds and took you to the ground. He pressed himself against you, his sword against your neck. Your eyes glared up at him.

“Alright you won, can I go rest now?”

“Has that lousy sound hashira taught you anything?” Sanemi questions. He was obsessed with this. He saw the look on your face. “Ditch him, I’ll teach you from now on.”

“I’m not doing that. Tengen is a good teacher.” You defended. Sanemi pulled the sword away from your neck and with swiftness pulled you to your feet. He doesn’t let go of your hand though and the closeness to him has your heart beating wildly in your chest. 

“I’m better.” He says as though it's a well known fact. You wondered what his motives were and what his grudge was against Tengen. 

“What’s this about?” You ask and watch his eyes leave yours as he shamelessly looks at your lips, scanning what he wanted to before meeting your eyes again. This simple act wreaked havoc on your systems. 

“I think it’s pretty clear, I want to teach you myself.”

“Why though?”

“Tengen doesn’t deserve to. That’s why.” He pulls you to him suddenly. “Do you understand?” His voice was low and soft, eyes searching. He was trying to tell you something with his eyes. He sighed, you guessed he needed to be more clear with his intentions so he gave a small shake of the head and dipped his head to meet your lips with his. You sucked in a breath as he kissed you hard enough to prove his point. You understood now, albeit a little late.

-

Rengoku’s jealousy is healthy. He trusts you fully but doesn’t trust anyone who would come up and flirt with you when he’s right there. A lot of people come up and talk with you and you're completely oblivious to their flirting so Rengoku will intervene to save you. On your very first date the waiter at the noodle place you two were at flirted with you practically the entire time. Rengoku didn’t get angry, in fact it made him smile that no matter how much flirting was being done you’d still be leaving this restaurant with him. But the moment the waiter stepped over the line and made you clearly uncomfortable Rengoku cleared his throat. He didn’t yell or make a scene, he just simply gave the waiter a fiery glare. The waiter was gone within seconds. You looked at your date, giving him a knowing and thankful smile. 

The only time jealousy fully got under his skin was when he came back from a long mission and caught sight of you eating lunch in the courtyard with Giyu. He felt his cheeks burn at the sight. One thing Rengoku loved just slightly less than you was food. And what he loved more about it was eating it next to you. But here you were, eating it next to someone else. Sure it was childish but logic never really came into play when jealousy took over. When you walked back to your shared room and caught sight of his red hair your face completely morphed into light as you sprinted across the room and slammed against him in a bone crushing hug. He’d been gone for at least two months and it was almost unbearable.Rengoku, despite pouting slightly, wrapped you in a hug with the same vigor, breathing in your scent. You two stayed like that for a long moment. 

“I missed you. When did you get back?” You asked, muffled against his chest.

“About an hour ago.” You pulled back at that, looking up at him. He wanted to mope but the moment your eyes met his smile so wide fitted to his lips. 

“An hour?” You asked. “Why didn’t you come find me?”

“I saw you eating with Giyu, just didn’t want to bother you.” He says and knows he was being silly earlier. But being apart from you for two months had made him weary and heartsick for you. 

“You could never bother me. Never.” You doubled down, pulling his face to yours, proving your point with a kiss. He mumbled an apology against your lips before you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled back you slightly smirked up at him. “Was that jealousy?” You asked as his entire face went beet red and you knew you were right. You tilted your head to the side. “Kyojuro…”

“I’m sorry,” He says, tightening his hold around you. “We’ve been apart far too long.”

-

Tengen also hides his jealousy pretty well but hides it behind jokes. You could not stand him when you first met. You were nothing like him. Liked the quiet, liked the dark, liked your solitude. Tengen on the hand liked you. He liked how quiet you were and wanted to diminish the dark for you and snatch away your solitude. You liked your personal space and he also liked your personal space. 

You grew up an only child with cold parents in a depressing town so when you met Tengen and he was flashy and warm, naturally you sulked away from him. He tried everything. He bought you your favorite sweets and relished when you’d give him the smallest of smiles that looked more like a grimace but he’d take what he can get. He’d find you books to read and insist that you read it to him in return and when you begrudgingly agreed he’d melt into a puddle and sit as close as humanly possible. And when he’d pretend to fall asleep on your shoulder he really felt as though he could combust. 

He’d never chased after someone so hard. 

You were so elusive, just out of reach. When you met his wives they all adored you in the same way he did. It scared him though, you weren’t one to put yourself out there. You didn’t like many people and being with Tengen meant you’d be with four people at all times. Though the times that you were around and happened to run into him and his wives you didn’t seem overwhelmed. In fact the first time he saw you actually smile, like eyes crinkling cheeks blushing smile was when Hinatsuru pulled you into a hug and told you how pretty you looked. The only jealousy he felt then and there was not being able to have that smile directed at him. But after seeing that smile he finally realized it was possible to make you smile so let the teasing begin. Suddenly Tengen was around all the time. You didn’t notice it at first but suddenly he was everywhere. Teasing you, overtly flirting with you, towering over you and trying so damn hard to make you blush and smile the way his wife did. 

It was exhausting for you. All this attention. What was even more exhausting is pretending that you didn’t want Tengen. There was a war within you. Wanting to be alone and wishing to never be alone again. Tengen and his life was the polar opposite of yours. Everything you couldn’t stand but found wanting to tolerate, wanting that shine in your darkness. Things all came to a head when you were at a fork in the road. Tagging along Tengen’s mission versus Giyu’s. To you it was an obvious choice. Tagging along with Giyu meant not really having to talk the entire time. And when you told Tengen things spiraled.

“So you got a thing for the quiet ones? Should’ve known.” He teased with this sort of practiced ease. He looked wholly unaffected by your decision.

“I don’t have a thing for anyone.” You corrected, you had been cleaning your katana when he found his way into your room somehow without your objections. Maybe it was all the time that you were spending with him things were just slowly becoming comfortable? 

“You’re breaking my heart, sunshine.” If looks could kill Tengen would be long long dead. It wasn’t the first time he called you that nickname and it certainly would not be the last. Unfortunately.

“I’m very busy, you know.”

“Busy thinking of your mission with the stoic Giyu?” He teased and you breathed in and let out a huff of air.

“You are relentless. Is there something you want to say?” You ask over your shoulder. He’s uncharacteristically quiet behind you so you turn just slightly. Tengen is looking at you in the same way he’d been looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Tengen looked at you as though the light only shined on earth because you held the sun in place. You looked away and begrudgingly ignored that flip in your chest.

“You like him better than me.” And… he’s back to teasing. Well two can play that game.

“Yes I do.” You answered bluntly.

“Now you’re really killing me, Sun-”

“Nope. No nicknames. I’m not a pet.” He laughed at that, a warm laugh that you didn’t know how badly you wanted to hear again. 

“I bet he isn’t able to get under your skin like I do.”

“You’re right.” You said and heard Tengen stand from where he was sitting. You go slightly rigid as you feel him walk closer to where you’re standing. He barely brushes against you as he looks over your shoulder. You try to continue to work like this was unaffecting you but your walls were slowly crumbling around you. There was only so long you could pretend you didn’t want a good thing. And Tengen was sure as hell a good thing. 

“Giyu’s quiet. You won’t have an ounce of fun on his mission.” 

“Killing demon’s isn’t supposed to be fun.” You throw back and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responds.

“It is with me.” You roll your eyes and turn to tell him to get lost but when you turn and look up your faces are millimeters apart. Maybe even less. Your words falter and for a moment all you can think of is if you moved just barely forwards your lips would meet his. “Cat got your tongue?” He said huskily just loud enough for you to hear. It turns your insides out, burning you up from head to toe. You wanted to ask what he really wanted but it would ultimately be a stupid question. Tengen had never hidden his intentions from the start. Only you had. He pointedly moved his eyes to your lips but didn’t move any closer. You knew then and there he was practically handing over the reigns. If you wanted him you’d have to make the next move. You had a penchant for letting things pass you by. It was like you were begrudgingly obsessed with not letting yourself have anything. Love never seemed like something attainable. Friendship seemed like a lot of work and family never felt like family. “I’ll wait forever, if that’s what you want.” He whispered, interrupting your thoughts. Your heart hurts at that. You weren’t being fair. Making him wait forever was a selfish thing to do and even with all those things he still looked one hundred percent serious when he said it. He wouldn’t get tired of you. He could be the one to stick around for good. He could be the good. 

“I”m still going with Giyu. I already promised.” You said.

“Break the promise, Sunshine, I’m practically begging.” As his face slightly dropped you leaned forwards and closed that gap that you had gotten far too comfortable with. Lips sliding against lips.

-

Hotaru was downright scary when he was jealous. Holy shit you were scared out of your mind. Your destroyed blade laid in pieces in front of you. Your heart was in your throat. You felt a hand on your shoulder as Rengoku gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

“Tough break, kid.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“The last time I broke my blade he yelled and ranted for three hours and passed out from lightheadedness.” You said, remembering the whole ordeal with a shiver. Rengoku shook his head.

“Your blade broke for a noble cause, make sure to tell him that.” He said, giving you one last squeeze before turning to leave. You bent over and grabbed the shattered remains. You were dead. Dead dead dead. You had so much life to live. You had sweets in the fridge that Mitsuri made for you. You had finally learned a few new cool tricks to use in fighting. You were visiting home next month. You sighed, gathering up the broken pieces in a cloth. 

“I will pay you double… no triple the usual amount, please I beg you.” You had your hands clasped together in front of you as though silent praying. The night before last you had an idea. There was more than just Hotaru that could make you a blade in the village so if you enlisted someone else to make you a sword just this one time Hotaru wouldn’t lob your head off your shoulders.

“Mr. Haganezuka  would kill  me, bring me back to life then kill me again if I made a sword for you.” The villager trembled at the mere thought. He was clearly just as afraid of Hotaru as you were. You swallowed dryly.

“He would never know, please I beg you.I’ll give you any amount.” You begged but the villager just shook his head.

“He would know because it’s you. Any other client I might do it but you… absolutely not. You’re his favorite!” He said, looking over your shoulder as though Hotaru would enter his shop at any second.

“What does that mean! The only people that would know would be me and you! Please I will literally do anything!”

“And me.” A voice behind you says. Your blood goes cold. Slowly you turn around and sure enough there’s Hotaru. You’re caught like a deer in headlights. The villager actually screams and scrambles away, startling you. Hotaru’s expressions are hidden behind his mask so you’re not sure whether or not he’s angry quite yet. You’d seen his face once a few years ago when this peaceful village was attacked. You were surprised in the moment that someone so intense could look so beautiful. That didn’t dull that fact he was scary though. 

“Mr. Haganezuka! W-what a surprise!” You choke out, cheeks going fuchsia. “Lovely weather we’re having today isn’t it?” You squeak out. Hotaru slightly moves his head and you force yourself not to bolt out the door screaming like the villager. You’re a hashira for god sakes! But to be completely truthful, Hotaru was scarier than any demon you’d ever faced. 

“Very lovely. What brings to our village?” He asks, his voice scarily calm. You force yourself to give a terse smile.

“I- I came to relax of course!”

“Relax at my competitor's shop?” He asks and there is a sharp edge to his voice. 

“Competitor? Wha? I didn’t-- I did not know you two were competing!” You nervously laughed it off, running a quick hand through your hair. “We-- we go way back. I was just visiting for a second before hitting the hot springs!” You say and start to walk towards the door but Hotaru’s hand juts out, blocking you from leaving. You freeze, you’re so close to him, he towers over you and when he turns to look down at you you feel weak in the knees. Slowly he brings his hand up, untying the back of his mask as it falls into his waiting hand and you’re met face to face with Hotaru once again. The years had passed but he still looked as beautiful as ever. You definitely make a sound, a strangled gasp, though if it was from fear or surprise no one would ever know. 

“You… two… go way back?” He grits out. God… you’d done it now. You should’ve just went to him in the first place, accepted his scolding and went about your week. But here you were, ten feet under and you weren’t even sure after this debacle if he’d fix your sword for any amount of money. You cleared your throat.

“Uhm… y-yes?” 

“Yes?” He repeated and the look on his face was as sharp as the sharpest katana. You were so dead. Goodbye family. Goodbye sweet treats. 

“How… far back?” He asks. You stare at him. How far back? He caught you in the lie and you wished instead of twenty questions he’d just yell at you. 

“Just like… a year.” You lied, Hotaru’s eyes narrowed on yours. The intense eye contact was insane. You almost forgot to breathe. 

“You’ve known me longer than.” He articulates sharply. Your lips part, you're stumped for a moment. 

“Uh… y-yes, sir, I have.” You stumble. 

“Yet instead of coming to me, who you’ve known far longer, you go to my competitor to fix the sword that I made you.” Ah fuck. The color absolutely drained from your face. 

“What?” You shook your head. “N-nuh uh! I-- I was just visiting like I said.” At the end of your sentence he holds up the cloth that had the broken pieces of your sword. You patted your bag and gasped. How the hell did he get that! “It-- that-- It’s not what it looks like, Mr. Hagenzuka! I-- well you see it broke… honorably of course… and I was coming to you-” Hotaru raised his hand to silence you and you instantly stopped talking. This was it. This was the end. Killed by your swordsmith. If you were quick you could probably wrestle back a piece of your katana and end your life before he could. 

“If you ever break your sword again,” Hotaru practically growled.”And go to my competitor, I will-”

“Kill me?” You filled in.

“Kill him.” He fumed and then he reached for you. God he was gonna choke you out! His hand slid against your cheek and when he leaned in you sent out a final goodbye. 

His lips met yours. His lips. Pressed against your lips. He was kissing you. Kissing? You? Your eyes were wide open. You had watched the whole thing in slow motion. Sure enough the moment heated as he stepped a bit closer to you, hand sliding around your hip to yank you a step closer to him. The most startling thing? The heat that suddenly ignited in your gut at the press of his mouth on yours. You made a startled sound in the back of your throat at the strange realization. What the hell was happening? When he pulled back your eyes were still open. Looking up at him as though he’d just smacked you right across the face. 

“You… just kissed me.” You say. He doesn’t answer you with words, just nods his head, still looking pissed. “On the lips.”

“Yes.” He says sharply. 

“Like lips on my lips.” “I’m aware of what I did.” Hotaru groans, looking down at you.

“Am I dead?” You asked, patting yourself for any life threatening wounds, Hotaru watches you, looking unamused. 

“No. You are not dead.” “I… was dead sure you… were going to murder me. Like… bloody murder.”

“Why in the world would I murder you?” Hotaru asks, crossing his arms.

“B-because you… because I broke my sword and schemed to fix it behind your back with your competitor.” You say slowly as though he doesn’t remember the last ten minutes. But he just looks down at you like you’re saying something incredibly apparent.

“Yes. I know.” He growls but his anger doesn’t necessarily seem directed at you as he sighs heavily. 

“I am… very… confused.” You force out. Your brain felt melted in your head. Hotaru looks down at you and for a moment so quick you could’ve missed it his eyes look… soft? No… that had to be a trick of the lights.

“You’re my client. No one else’s. Got it?” He punctuates seriously. You nod your head quickly. What the hell just happened?

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (1/2) | oops wrong name

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : accidentally calling them the wrong name for shits and giggles - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : genre : comedy / pranks ୨ৎ : tws : playful banter ୨ৎ : word count : 2305

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i was ctfu while writing this LMFAOO i think my bf would KILL ME if i called him the wrong name 😭 the charles gif makes me wanna 😩

ʚ・max verstappen

you were lounging on the hotel bed while max sat at the little desk beside it, tapping something into his phone. his hair was still damp from the post-qualifying shower, messy and sticking up in tufts. the tv was on, but you weren’t watching. not really. you were focused on your plan.

“tom,” you said casually, stretching out across the mattress. “can you pass me my water bottle?”

max didn’t respond at first, too focused on his phone. but then he froze.

his head tilted slowly, like a machine turning to scan a threat.

“sorry, what?”

you glanced at him, innocent. “water, please?”

now he was fully facing you. his eyebrows raised, that signature are you serious look all over his face. “who the fuck is tom?”

you shrugged. “just asked for water.”

“yeah, but you didn’t ask me.” he leaned back in the chair, arms folding. “you asked tom.”

you bit back a laugh. “you’re overreacting.”

“i’m overreacting?” he repeated, tone flat. “you’re lying on our bed calling for 'tom' and i’m overreacting.”

you picked up your phone like you were checking something. “maybe i got the names mixed up. tom, max. could happen to anyone.”

“not unless tom’s been around enough to replace me in your muscle memory.” you glanced at him and saw he was trying really hard to keep his expression unreadable, but his brow was twitching. “seriously...tom?”

“it’s a joke,” you finally said, unable to hold the straight face any longer. “you’ve been pranked.”

max didn’t speak for a moment. then he shook his head, muttering in dutch under his breath.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he said finally, getting up to hand you the water you never really wanted in the first place. “but if i hear that name again, i’m revoking cuddling privileges.”

you grinned. “noted.”

but later that night, just as you drifted off, you whispered, “thanks, tom.”

max shoved a pillow in your face.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you were in the middle of organizing lewis’ growing sunglasses collection in the closet when he walked in, shirtless and relaxed, holding two smoothie bottles. one was your favorite.

“thanks, marcus,” you said sweetly, taking it from his hand.

he stopped mid-step.

“…come again?” he asked, lips parting just slightly.

you didn’t look up. “hmm?”

he blinked. “what did you just call me?”

you sipped your smoothie. “i said thanks. for the smoothie, babe.”

there was a pause. then—

“marcus?” his voice pitched up at the end like he was genuinely trying to figure out whether he heard wrong… or whether he was being cheated on in real time.

you blinked innocently. “huh?”

he slowly put his bottle down. “babe, i don’t want to jump to conclusions, but...who the hell is marcus? is that some guy from soulcycle or something?”

you stifled a laugh and shrugged. “that name jogs my memory...i thin he just brought me a smoothie once at work? very thoughtful.”

lewis crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, eyebrows up. “wow. okay. and what does marcus do? race? rap? make smoothies for girls who forget their boyfriend’s name?”

you bit your lip, holding the laugh deep in your chest.

he looked away, shaking his head, grinning despite himself. “unbelievable. seven world championships and i’m getting marcus’d in my own house.”

you walked over to him slowly, trying to look apologetic. “lewis—”

“no, no. marcus is probably better at opening jars too,” he said, deadpan.

you finally broke, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. “it’s a prank, babe. from that old trend. there is no marcus.”

he let out a long sigh, dramatically resting his forehead against yours. “you play too much.”

“but you looked so betrayed. it was kind of cute.”

lewis kissed your cheek, then whispered, “you’re lucky you’re adorable.”

as you turned to leave, he added, “but i’m calling you katie all day tomorrow. just for balance.”

ʚ・george russell

it started over breakfast. you were seated at the little table in george’s apartment, scrolling through your phone while he made tea. he was shirtless, hair still a little messy, humming some fleetwood mac song to himself, completely unaware he was about to be mentally ruined before 9 a.m.

“jake, can you pass the oat milk?”

george froze.

you didn’t look up. you scrolled a little more. very nonchalant.

he didn’t say anything at first. he just slowly reached for the oat milk and set it down in front of you — quietly, methodically — then walked around the table and sat across from you with that look.

“who’s jake?” he asked, voice light but suspicious.

you took a sip of your tea. “what?”

“you called me jake.”

“no i didn’t.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you absolutely did.”

you shrugged. “maybe you misheard.”

“i don’t think i did.” he leaned forward, elbows on the table now. “do i know this jake?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile. “i don't know, probably? that's what you heard right.”

george blinked once, then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms like he was preparing to take you to court. “does jake have better hair than me?”

you snorted.

“is he taller?” he asked, a little more seriously now.

“george.”

“no, because if jake is over six feet and makes a good cup of tea, i’m leaving.”

that did it — you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your drink.

george tilted his head. “wait—oh my god. you’re doing that bloody trend, aren’t you?”

you nodded, face buried in your sleeve as you kept laughing.

he exhaled, rolling his eyes as he picked up his mug. “you’re awful. i nearly had a personal crisis.”

“i noticed,” you said between giggles.

“swear to god, if i ever call you ‘sophie’ and you cry, i’m just gonna say it was balance.”

“who’s sophie?” you blinked.

he gave you a look. “exactly.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos was sprawled on the couch, flipping through the channels with one hand and lazily draping the other across your thighs, completely unbothered. it was one of those rare, quiet evenings where neither of you had to be anywhere, the kind that made you feel domestic and soft.

you were curled up at the end of the sofa, scrolling through your phone, when you looked over at him and said, casually, “matteo, can you turn the volume up?”

carlos froze.

the remote paused mid-click. he turned his head, eyes narrowing with laser focus. “what did you say?”

you blinked at him sweetly. “volume, carlos. i can’t hear.”

silence.

then, he sat up slowly — dramatically, even — his hand still hovering in the air like he was physically trying to process what just happened. “who,” he began, “is matteo?”

you shrugged. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” he said, placing the remote down like it offended him, “you just called me matteo. that’s not my name, cariño.”

you bit your lip to hold back the smile. “oh, i must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

carlos leaned forward, one eyebrow raised in complete disbelief. “someone else? so now i am… easily confused with other men?”

you snorted.

“no, no, it’s fine. maybe matteo has better hair than me. maybe matteo owns a vineyard and serenades you with a guitar.”

you lost it at that. but he wasn’t done.

“does matteo also say ‘smooth operator’? or is he a rough operator?” he added, now fully invested in this imaginary rival.

you leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder, voice soft. “carlos, i was kidding. it’s a trend. i called you the wrong name on purpose.”

he stared at you for a beat, lips pursed. “you’re playing with fire, mi amor.”

“i know,” you grinned. “but matteo would’ve let it slide.”

carlos lunged at you with a laugh, wrestling you into his chest. “then go be with matteo! but first, tell him i’m coming for him.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

you were doing your makeup at the vanity in your shared monaco apartment when charles wandered in, fresh from his shower, towel around his waist, hair a fluffy disaster. he looked at you through the mirror, all sleepy eyes and boyish charm.

“lucas, can you hand me my lip liner?” you asked offhandedly, still focused on your face.

you heard the towel drop.

not in the hot, sexy way.

in the he's shocked and spiraling way.

“lucas?” he echoed, voice higher than you’ve ever heard it. “who the hell is lucas?!”

you turned slowly, biting your lip to hide the smile. “what?”

he stared at you like you’d just run him over with a ferrari. “you just called me lucas.”

you shrugged. “did i?”

“YES,” he said, wildly gesturing. “you didn’t even hesitate. you were so confident—like it was natural! like you say it all the time!”

you turned back to the mirror, calmly applying mascara. “you’re overreacting.”

charles dropped onto the bed like he’d been mortally wounded. “lucas. mon dieu. that sounds like someone who wears boat shoes with no socks.”

you bit your lip harder.

“is he french?” charles asked, sitting up. “or worse… italian?”

“it was just a mistake, love.” you said airily, brushing your cheeks.

charles stood, eyes wide. “mistake?! i literally brought you pain au chocolat this morning and kissed your forehead like some guy in a rom-com!”

you finally broke, letting out a full laugh. “charles—”

“no, no, no. this is worse than the monaco curse. lucas. i can’t believe i lost you to someone named lucas!”

you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his dramatically tense shoulders. “babe. it’s a tiktok prank. i made it up.”

he blinked. “so… there is no lucas?”

you grinned. “no lucas.”

he exhaled. “good. because if there was, i’d have to challenge him to a karting race. or maybe just cry.”

you kissed his cheek. “you’re so dramatic.”

he whispered, offended. “it’s my birthright.”

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando were chilling on the couch, deep into a gaming session. or, more accurately, lando was gaming and you were curled up next to him, offering the occasional sarcastic comment and stealing his snacks.

he was laser-focused, headset on, tongue poking out a little as he tried to win some online match.

you waited for the perfect moment, just as he landed a kill and started celebrating.

“nice job, ethan,” you said sweetly, clapping once.

lando froze.

like… absolutely no movement. not in his hands, not in his mouth, not even a breath.

then, very slowly, he turned to look at you. headset slightly askew. brow furrowed.

“did you just call me ethan?”

you blinked. “hmm?”

“hmm?” he repeated, his voice cracking halfway through. “who the fuck is ethan?!”

you shrugged. “just… ethan.”

lando set the controller down like it was made of glass. “is he one of your gym guys? does he have better curls than me? wait, is ethan taller than me?!”

you laughed under your breath. “does it matter?”

“of course it matters!” he cried, fully spinning to face you now, hands on his hips. “you can’t just ethan me and then expect me to cope. i’m not built for this emotionally.”

you fought so hard not to crack. “just someone i know very lightly at the gym, he's a big motivator.”

“oh my god,” lando said, flopping backwards like he’d been shot. “i’m being replaced by a walking affirmation board.”

you finally broke, snorting as you leaned over him. “lando. baby. it’s a prank.”

he peeked up at you. “no ethan?”

“well..." you pause, "just kidding, of course there's no ethan."

he exhaled dramatically. “okay. good. because i was two seconds away from dming every ethan on your follower list and challenging them to a race.”

“you can’t race them all.”

he grinned, eyes gleaming. “watch me.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

it was a quiet sunday morning, the kind that begged for soft sheets, slow cuddles, and no alarm clocks. you were both curled up in bed, tangled under the duvet, with the curtains barely cracked to let the light in.

oscar was scrolling through something on his phone, his head resting against your shoulder, calm and cozy.

you stretched lazily, then nudged his thigh. “asher, can you hand me my water?”

he blinked.

paused.

then, with terrifying composure: “sorry, who?”

you yawned. “water, please. it’s by your side, osc.”

he slowly turned to look at you, expression blank, voice deadly even. “you just called me asher.”

“did i?”

“you definitely did.”

you shrugged, pretending not to notice the sharp turn in atmosphere. “just slipped out.”

oscar sat up a little straighter. “do we know an asher? is there an asher in the paddock? because i swear i don’t know an asher.”

you casually rolled over to the other side of the bed. “he’s someone from uni... no one special just someone i talk to during class for a little laugh.”

oscar scoffed, tone still flat but deeply offended. “he sounds like a real crowd favorite. must be hard, competing with asher and his sunshine energy.”

you were fighting so hard not to laugh, clutching the duvet to your face.

he wasn’t done. “tell me—does asher also give you the inside line into turn 3 at silverstone? does he organize your sock drawer? does he know your coffee order by heart?!”

you burst out laughing.

oscar narrowed his eyes. “you’re pranking me.”

you wheezed, nodding. “i couldn’t keep it going, you looked like you were going to call asher’s imaginary mother and file a complaint.”

oscar leaned back, smug smile on his face. “good. because i was five seconds away from changing your contact name to ashtray and never explaining why.”

you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “no asher. just you.”

he kissed your forehead, muttering, “i don’t trust pranks. but i trust revenge.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[dumbblond3]

★ FIGHT OR FUCK? ★

PIT FIGHTER VI FUCKING READER WHILE DICTATOR CAIT WATCHES

Caitvi x reader

NSFW MINORS DNI

“Just wish you two would get along hmm!”

A particularly rough thrust from Vi has your head reeling back into bed sheets

“That’s not for you to worry about baby ah- and maybe if cupcake over here could mm- lighten up we could go back to focusing on things that matter like our sweet girl”

Vi croons leaning down to your ear hitting that spot inside that leaves you cross-eyed

“Don’t act like this is my fault-“ Caitlyn chides

“I don’t need the spiel I’m a little preoccupied to keep this arguing up” Vi smirks back at Cait’s peeved expression

Caitlyn huffs her frustration almost outweighing her arousal at seeing you like this, almost

You feel her cool hand against your cheek, a soft attempt to soothe as Vi’s hips don’t miss a beat giving you no choice but to take it

“Mhmmm Cait please-“ you hear yourself start to beg for what exactly you’re not sure

“I know baby I know but you can take it for me, can’t you?” Caitlyn’s hushed words coat your mind in a hazy bliss that Vi can’t help but interject “You can take it for us, right honey? Or did you forget she’s mine too”

Vi punctuates her sharp words with the quick snap of her hips punching little whines out of you with each thrust

“Don’t like it when you fight- uhhh!”

Your pleas not falling on completely deaf ears, the two girls want nothing more than to make you happy but pride often gets in the way

A sharp glare is directed toward Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman does not fold and she certainly won’t be the one to apologize now

Unfortunately for you Vi is just as stubborn and as much as she wants to make you happy her ego can’t take admitting that she was wrong

So you'll stay stuck here in a tug-of-war over your pliant body until these two can learn how to make up in a way that doesn't involve fucking your lights out

"Maybe I'd think about giving in if I could have my turn with you pretty girl, how does that sound?"

Caitlyn's intentions are far from pure giving Vi a cheeky smile as she coddles you with faux sympathy

"No no, you don't" Vi hoists you up flat against her chest possesively "Just mad you didn't get to her first aren't you Cait? Too late for that shit now you'll just have to wait your turn" Vi sneers

While she may seem annoyed Caitlyn has no problem with patience if anything having Vi's sloppy seconds means you'll be even more sensitive and limp for her to use as she pleases

"I c-can't anymore please gonna cum-" and then there's you

With no chance of escaping until they decide you’ve had enough, it’s best to accept your role as beloved plaything and from the attitude they’ve shown so far it seems you’re in for a very long night

AN- These were my fave caitvi eras and I was sad they didn't interact more so I thought I should write something for them together, hope you enjoy! (not sure if anyone reads these anyway lol but kisses to my lovely readers 💋)

[xinganhao]

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (3)

celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader. check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

You can’t bring yourself to end the call. 

Your phone is overheating. You’re below the acceptable battery threshold of twenty percent. And the dark-haired boy on the other end of the screen looks more asleep than awake. 

You should end this call, but you can’t. 

Mingyu doesn’t seem keen on ending it either. His eyes are drooping and his head has begun to loll every so often. He’d spent the first couple minutes of the call talking about his day— the seemingly endless rotation of engagements that came with being a celebrity. 

Sometimes, it still strikes you as odd that this is the life you now lead. Being on FaceTime with somebody that hundreds, maybe thousands of people fawned over. 

But you were friends… right? And friends called each other. Friends texted. 

This is friendly, a small voice in the back of your head tries to convince you. So very, very friendly. 

The conversation has since mellowed out. Mingyu makes good on his word; he falls quiet, observing your work like it’s some form of entertainment for him. At one point, you even forget he’s watching. 

It’s why you’re a bit jolted when he absentmindedly mumbles, “You have nice hands.” 

You pause in the middle of bubble wrapping an order. One cursory glance at your screen, and you see that Mingyu is absolutely fighting for his life to stay awake. The sight almost makes you smile. 

“You should head to bed soon,” you say instead of addressing his compliment. “We’ve been on call for— what? Two hours, I think.” 

Mingyu says something too low for you to catch. You give a noncommittal hum of ‘hmm?’, prompting him to repeat what he’d said. 

And maybe he’s just tired enough to decide fuck it. Maybe it’s past midnight and that makes everything fair game. 

Because Mingyu breathes out a quiet “not enough,” and you swear something screeches to a halt in your brain. Two hours. Not enough. 

You swallow. He’s out of it, you think to yourself, your fingers quivering a bit as you cut, tape, seal. He’s sleep-deprived and talking out of his ass. 

That’s what gives you the audacity to ask what’s been on your mind for days now. 

“Mingyu,” you ask, “why do you want to be an ambassador for Bittersweet?” 

A beat. One that stretches long enough for you to wonder if Mingyu had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 

But then, his voice— quiet, but not any less sincere— rings over the line. “Because I like your jewelry.” 

Plain and simple. You’re not sure why you expected more. 

He goes on, his tone a little softer, slower. “I like what you’ve done with the business. I like… how hard you work. Your passion. All that.”

Mingyu pauses to yawn. You glance over to see him smiling into his phone, his half-lidded gaze trained on your hands moving over your workbench. It makes his next words a one-two punch on your poor heart. 

“Your brand may be called ‘Bittersweet’,” he says, “but you’re as sweet as they come.” 

EXCERPTS FROM "MINGYU opens up on being named Rising Star of the Year"

Q: Earlier this year, the Internet fell in love with you for being an ‘advocate for small businesses.’ You’ve seemed to take it a step further, though. 

MINGYU: [laughs] Is that what they’ve been saying? I had no idea. But, yes— the pieces I have on right now are from a small business. It’s called Bittersweet Jewelry, and it’s something I found one day while scrolling through SNS. 

Q: You didn’t know the seller prior to purchasing? 

MINGYU: No, not at all. They didn’t even know it was me. I used an alias for a while. 

Q: I see. A lot of people believe your support has been reflective of your personality. Being caring, considerate. 

MINGYU: That’s very nice. I appreciate that. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m just a guy who likes good jewelry. I admire consistency, quality. [holds up his rings] These have it in spades. 

Q: That’s why you keep coming back to brands like Bittersweet. 

MINGYU: Sure. We could say that.  

[...]

THE TOP FIVE SONGS MINGYU HAS BEEN PLAYING ON REPEAT LATELY

Love Me Like That by Sam Kim

Linger by The Cranberries

Tadhana by Up Dharma Down

If You Do by GOT7

LMLY by Jackson Wang

[...]

Q: What do you look for in a partner? 

MINGYU: Now, Minghao… [laughs] 

Q: Sorry. The readers want to know. 

MINGYU: I’m never going to escape this question, am I? Give me a minute to think about it. 

Q: Sure. 

MINGYU: [after a moment] I’d like somebody dedicated and passionate. Someone sweet. And… 

Q: And? 

MINGYU: Someone with nice hands, I guess. [smiles] 

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[natashashill]

been like this

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ mean, possessive, and possibly toxic nat in the beginning, mean sex (?), dacryphilia, panties as a gag?, spankings, verbal degradation, humiliation, pussy & ass spankings, fingering, strap sucking, strap fucking, hair pulling, choking, edging AND overstimulation, praise, slight breeding kink, & aftercare!! lmk if i forgot anything

a/n: this might have been a lil self indulgent but i also wrote this at 2am so bear w me pls <3

summary: you & natasha are exs, you just broke it off and she doesn’t like that, you both end up at the same bar

You found yourself at a local bar for the night, desperately needing to forget yourself and maybe her too.

You had finally called Natasha out on her bullshit after putting up with all the ghosting and flaking she had pulled on you. You cut things off with her and you’re hoping it stays permanent this time. You immediately make your way to the bar, and order a signature cocktail. You take a few sips while scanning around the bar, observing the few couples that came while the night was still early.

You were just about done scanning the room when you spotted her in the back, sitting in a booth by herself. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at her. Her flaming red hair was tied back while she wore a casual suit, and your gut tells you she came here straight after work. She sat staring at her drink, brows furrowed in tension with the slightest dark circles under her eyes, and your stomach dropped at the thought that you might have been the cause. You were pissed at her, but you never wanted to see her hurting.

Apparently, you had been staring at her for too long because when you snapped out of your thoughts, you caught her looking at you with a slight smirk on her face. She sent you a small wink before beckoning you over with a wag of her finger, and your feet started moving towards her on autopilot. You sat across from her, staring blankly waiting for Natasha to say something.

“Did you come here looking for a new girl tonight?”

Your jaw dropped at the bluntness of her question, “Jesus Nat. I- I don’t know. I wanted to have fun, if I found a girl who would treat me right, maybe I would go home with her. I didn’t plan anything.”

She scoffs at that.

“Well your dress certainly did. Your tits are practically spilling out of your chest. Do you even know how many people have been staring?”

You frown and attempt to cover your chest slightly, feeling self-conscious at the weight of her words.

“What? All of a sudden you’re shy, you had quite a lot to say to me the other night baby. What girl did you think was going to treat you right, because I know how you like to be treated. You say you want a sweet girl, but not really. You crave the way I make you feel when I’m rough don’t you, you love the way I treat you-”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your mouth, despite your best efforts to stay unbothered by her. You couldn’t help but let her words affect you just the way she wanted them to. You fell right into her trap, and she has you right where she wants you.

“What baby? You want me to be soft on you, hmm? Spend all my time on you and forget about everything else I have to do? Are you that much of a needy slut baby? Knowing you, your panties are probably soaked by now, am I right?”

You weakly shook your head no, but you knew she was right, and so did she. She grabs your hand and yanks you up out of your seat.

“Come on baby, follow me. Let’s go see how much of a desperate slut you really are.”

“Nat, where are you going?”

“We are going to take a trip to the bathroom. If you didn’t just lie to me and you really aren’t wet, well then I’ll let you go. If I catch you lying, you’re in for a rough punishment before I take you home.”

You gulp and dumbly follow her, hoping she’ll go easy on you. But you know she never does.

The moment the door shuts behind you, she has you pressed up against. Her hands roughly push up your dress against your hips before pushing your lace panties to the side. She doesn’t even comment on the wetness before slapping your pussy twice, hard.

You let out a moan at that, and she guides you out of your soaked panties before stuffing it in your mouth. You let out another moan at the taste of you on your panties but it’s barely audible. Your cunt is clenching around nothing and the humiliation has some tears springing to your eyes and an attempt to close your thighs.

She quickly turns you around before spreading your legs apart and slotting her leg in the middle, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind against her with your hands on the door.

“I can’t even look at you right now. Go ahead slut, hump my thigh like the pathetic whore you are. If you even think about coming, I’m bending you over the sink and spanking your ass raw.”

You’re only getting wetter at her words, desperately humping her legs, hoping to get enough friction to ease your clit’s throbbing. Your legs start to shake, and she immediately takes a step back away from you. You’re left dripping while facing the door, attempting to catch your breath while fighting off tears.

You don’t get a break before she smacks your ass hard, and you let out a wanton moan at that. She smacks your other cheek harder at that, and you get the message to keep quiet. She starts spanking you in rapid succession, muttering about being her dirty little girl who doesn’t know any better. You can’t fight off the tears and by the end of her assault, your tears are quickly streaming down your face. Your legs are shaking with need and you can’t avoid the way your clit is throbbing.

You know she knows how sensitive you are by the way she presses a delicate kiss to your bruised cheek before gently turning you around and helping you redress.

“You took your punishment so well for me baby, let me take you home tonight.”

You nod, desperate for any attention she’ll give you right now. You let her guide you out of the bar and into the passenger seat of the car. She has her hand on your thigh the entire ride, and you just stare out the window, trying to process everything. You’re in her bedroom before you know it, naked and kneeling by the foot of her bed. You can see the wet patch on her suit pants that you left on her, and the sight has you clenching around nothing again.

She disappears into her closet, and your stomach drops at the realization of what’s in store for you. She comes back out, and you see a distinct bulge at her groin, and you lick your lips at the sight. All it takes is one look at her and you crawl your way towards her before stopping at her feet, hands eagerly making their way to unzip her pants and freeing her cock.

You waste no time before attempting to take her. Your lips wrap around her fake cock and you start bobbing your head, slowly taking more and more of her. She gave you two minutes to adjust before she gripped your hair and started using it to push you further down her cock. She started thrusting up until you and you let yourself be used by her. Her dick kept hitting the back of your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks with your makeup thoroughly ruined, and Natasha was obsessed. This is how she wanted you to be.

The sight of you mixed with how close she was made her thrust faster, ignoring how you gagged before she finally reached her peak. She stilled as she felt the aftershocks take over before gently pulling out.

She lightly cupped your face, letting you nuzzle against her hand while her thumb stroked your cheekbone, wiping some stray tears.

“What’s your color baby?”

“Green daddy”

“Alright then, get on the bed just how I like you. Daddy’s gonna fuck any thoughts you have about leaving out of your head. You’re mine, I don’t share.”

You quickly scurried on to the middle of the bed before positioning yourself onto all fours. She let you stay like that for a few seconds before climbing onto the bed and positioning herself behind you. She had a clear view of your dripping pussy, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers through your folds. She collected some of your wetness before bringing her finger to your mouth, slightly sucking on it before bringing it back to your cunt.

She quickly inserted her finger inside you before rapidly fucking you with it. She slipped it a second finger and enjoyed the way your shaky breaths filled up the entire bedroom. She let you get close to your peak, thighs shaking around her fingers before pulling away. She quickly hushed your whines, bringing her cock to drag along your folds and gently brushing against your throbbing clit.

She started with a harsh, unforgiving pace as she fucked you, and you knew just how mad she was. You couldn’t keep up with her thrusts, letting your arms give out and letting her use you as she pleased, your moans filling the room. She grabbed your hair and harshly yanked it back, allowing you to arch your back and allowing her to go deeper into you.

One arm snaked around to your throat before squeezing, while the other stayed in your hair. You could barely muster any thoughts in your head, only her name shining through the fog starting to form in your brain. Your mouth hung open and eyes shut while she pounded into you with no mercy.

“Look at you, how easy you’re taking me. You’re my precious little slut, aren’t you? You’re built for me baby, you fit so perfectly around my cock.”

You lightly nod, barely paying attention to what she says but hoping it pleases her.

“You’d say anything I tell you to right now, wouldn’t you?”

You let out a moan at that, and she lets your lack of an answer slide, her hand squeezing tighter around your throat.

“You’re getting close aren’t you. Well you’re gonna have to beg me to come sweetheart. You’re not off the hook just yet. Beg daddy to let you come, beg daddy to make you come. Oh, and promise me that you’re coming back to stay with me. You’re going to be my little slut, my precious girl that I come home to after work. Mine.”

“ ‘M yours daddy. I’m your girl to use, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me but please let me come. I’ll be your perfect toy to use.”

She lets out a moan at that before thrusting harder into you.

“Yeah? You’re gonna be my good girl. My precious slut who I get to fuck. It’s my pussy, isn't it, belongs to me. I get to decide whether you come, and it’s mine to touch and play with. Fuck, I’d want to breed this sweet cunt of yours. Watch all my cum drip out of your needy pussy before fucking it back into you. Letting you be my breeding dump while I constantly pump my cum into you.”

You scream out her name while clenching around her strap and she knows you're close. She squeezes your throat just a bit tighter while also going to rub circles against your clit. You let out a strangled scream at that and she doesn’t let up until you’re cumming around her. She doesn’t stop while you fall apart around her, she continues thrusting, building you back up towards your second orgasm.

“Give me one more baby, give me one more and you’re done. You’re such a good girl for me, my sweet girl. Fall apart for me baby.”

Her words give you what you need before you’re coming again. She gently stops thrusting while rubbing your back gently, giving you the space to adjust to the sudden change. She lets your breathing return to normal before removing her strap from inside you, and throwing it towards the bathroom. She crawls up towards the head of the bed, laying down against one of the pillows, before bringing you against her clothed chest. You let your tears run while you absent mindedly play with her shirt’s buttons. She presses gentle kisses to your head while murmuring just how good of a girl you are for her. She strokes your arm soothingly, waiting for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” you wail out, unable to control yourself. “I just wanted you to notice me. You never spent time with me anymore and I missed you. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“Oh my love, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you. I got so wrapped up in work, I didn’t realize I was neglecting you. I’ll do better, I promise.” At that you let out a small smile and nuzzle against her as you let yourself drift off. She gently shakes you off of her before getting both of you out of bed.

“Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up. Let’s get in the shower and I promise we’ll fall asleep right after, baby.”

You reluctantly get into the shower, while Natasha cleans the strap and pulls out fresh sheets for the bed. She strips out of her work clothes, before changing into some boxers and a robe while grabbing a fresh pair of underwear you left at her house a while back. When she sees you exiting the bathroom, she hands you the underwear along with one of Natasha’s old shirts.

She guides you back into bed before bringing you against her chest, tucked in cozily under the blankets. You sigh happily against her, quickly falling asleep after being worn out from the night. Natasha stays awake for a bit longer, watching how peaceful you looked with her and vowing to never let you leave her again.

notes: i hope this was enjoyable to read <3 it just came to me in the middle of the night and i just had to write & post it

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi, I love your writing, anyway I have a request: could you maybe write something like reader (teen daughter) is the passenger princess and like even though she has a drivers license and want to practise, maybe she drove once carefully but the turns at the max. speed of the speed limit were like race worthy (or not) he won’t let her drive or give up her seat as passenger princess, or just being overly overprotective, of course only if your comfortable and want to write this. I would like Max Verstappen/Charles Leclere/Oscar Piastri (but it’s your choice Ofc, write with whom your comfortable or want). No pressure to write it it’s just a thought.

Thanks xoxo

-🦋

Passenger Princess

It started with one drive. Just one.

The moment Yn got her driver's license, she thought it was her ticket to a new kind of freedom. She’d imagined herself behind the wheel, windows down, hair whipping in the wind like she was in a movie, her dad in the passenger seat for once. She hadn’t counted on the fact that her dad, Max, wasn’t just any dad. He was a Formula 1 driver. And that came with... complications.

"Dad, I'm sixteen. I have my license. Let me drive. Please?" Yn pouted from the doorway as Max jingled his car keys.

He didn’t even look up. "You also once took a roundabout at full throttle and made that poor French bulldog on the sidewalk almost faint."

Yn gasped, half offended, half laughing. "That was one time! And the dog was dramatic. He was wearing a sweater."

Max finally looked up, smile tugging at his lips. He walked over and gently took her backpack off her shoulder, swinging it over his own.

"You’ve driven once. Once. And you went full Monza into a residential left turn."

"It was slightly over the speed limit. I slowed down after."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Slightly? You took it like it was a qualifying lap."

She crossed her arms, defiant. "I was being careful. You didn’t even say anything during the drive."

"Because I was trying not to traumatize you with my fear," he said simply. "Now come on, princess. I have the blanket waiting for you."

And just like that, her resolve began to crack.

Max always had a blanket waiting in the passenger seat. A soft, ridiculously fluffy one she’d once jokingly said made her feel like royalty. Ever since, Max never let it leave the car. Passenger Princess treatment was serious business.

“I also got your Starbucks order,” he added, shaking the iced drink gently in front of her like a shiny toy. “With extra caramel. The way you like it. And a cheese danish.”

Yn blinked. “You’re bribing me.”

“I’m protecting you,” he replied smoothly. “Big difference.”

She gave him a look.

“Okay, and I’m bribing you. But lovingly.”

With a grumble, she let herself be ushered toward the car.

---

Once they were on the road, Max glanced over at her. She was curled into the seat, wrapped in the blanket, sipping her Starbucks, tapping away at her phone as she DJ’d the ride.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“About how you gaslighted me out of driving with a danish?”

“I prefer to call it strategic redirection,” he replied innocently.

She snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

---

A week later, she tried again.

“Dad, please. It’s a Sunday. No one’s on the road. I need practice or I’ll forget how to parallel park."

He looked at her, then at the keys in his hand.

“Did you even parallel park during the test?”

She hesitated. “Well… no. The instructor didn’t make me. But I YouTubed it after!”

Max chuckled. “That’s not reassuring.”

“Come on,” she pleaded. “Just from here to the café.”

He walked toward the car slowly, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You know what?”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

He swung open the passenger side door, pulled out the blanket and fluffed it dramatically.

“Not a chance.”

Yn groaned loudly, stomping toward the car. “You can’t do this forever!”

“I can try,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat and passing her the aux cable. “Wanna play the playlist you made yesterday? The sad girl autumn one?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re manipulating me again.”

“I call it… excellent parenting.”

---

The more she protested, the more elaborate Max became. The blanket evolved. One day it was heated. Another time, she got in and found a whole mini pillow setup, her favorite candy in the cupholder, and a note that said "Passenger Princess Boarding Pass: One-way trip to VVIP Comfort."

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she said, holding up the card.

Max winked. “Only the best for my favorite girl.”

“I should be driving. You know that.”

He nodded. “I do. And when you stop taking corners like you're chasing pole, we’ll revisit it.”

“But—”

“Danish?” he offered.

She grabbed it, muttering. “This is emotional sabotage.”

“Yep.”

---

Eventually, she stopped arguing every time. Not because she gave up, but because she started to love it too.

Late-night drives when she was tired and didn’t want to think. Music blasting. Her feet on the dash (only when they weren’t near cops). Max telling stories from old race weekends, things he’d never told the media. Stories about how scared he’d been when she was born. How nothing—not even a starting grid at Spa—ever made his heart race like seeing her fall off her bike for the first time.

“I get nervous because I love you too much,” he’d said quietly once, after she’d fallen asleep mid-drive. She’d pretended to stay asleep, but her heart had never forgotten those words.

---

Then came the day she really did need to drive.

They were at a beach house in Spain, rented for a few days of privacy and family time. Max had pulled a muscle being dramatic on a jet ski (he swore it was the waves), and couldn’t sit up properly.

“Okay,” she said, standing over him with her arms crossed. “This is my chance.”

“You’re enjoying this,” he mumbled, wincing as he adjusted the ice pack on his side.

“Immensely.”

He sighed. “Fine. But slow. Safe. Cautious. I want you to brake like there’s a baby deer at every stop sign.”

Yn nodded seriously. “Deer braking. Got it.”

She drove slowly, carefully, every move cautious. Max still white-knuckled the door, but he didn’t say a word.

When they got home, she parked perfectly, turned off the car, and turned to him with a proud smile.

“Well?”

He smiled back, full of pride and relief.

“You’re getting there.”

---

But the next day, when he could sit up again, she found the blanket laid out in the passenger seat. A fresh Starbucks waiting.

“Really?” she asked, amused.

He shrugged. “Princess treatment. It’s forever. Driving was a fun little experiment. Let’s go back to our roots.”

She laughed and climbed in. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You’re my whole heart. Of course I’m impossible.”

And with that, they drove off—music up, windows down, father and daughter in perfect sync.

Passenger Princess: forever status confirmed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

-♡○♡

[freakmcnastyy]

Try again when you're legal

Geum Seongjae x f!eader (fluff, one-shot)

Summary: First-year Seongjae catches feelings for an upperclassman.

Note: anon request! hope you like itt 🥹

⸻

Seongjae’s name wasn’t just known at your school — it was whispered about in every nearby high school. Everyone talked about him, but no one dared to say his name out loud. They just called him that kid.

Ever since the start of freshman year, rumors said he didn’t give a damn about anyone. If someone looked at him wrong? Hospital. Even the teachers stayed out of his way. The principal? Looked the other way and kept walking. Everyone knew he was in some gang called Union. Some even said he ran the damn thing.

⸻

One day, he saw you.

The bell had just rung, everyone scattering to class, and you were leaning against the wall, face buried in your phone. Your skirt had ridden up a bit, sleeves rolled to your elbows. He looked at you — not in some obvious, horny-ass way — but lowkey. Quiet. Focused.

It was the first time he went silent.

The first time he stared at someone like that.

He didn’t know what it meant.

“Upperclassman, huh? Even better,” he thought.

Because something about your resting bitch face and that bored, smug look in your eyes? Yeah, it fired him up.

But maybe it wasn’t even about you, maybe he just wanted to win. To break whatever wall you built around yourself.

⸻

The cafeteria was loud as hell. Chairs scraping, trays slamming, people yelling.

You were sitting alone in the back, quietly eating with one eye on your study notes. Until someone dropped into the seat across from you.

“Yo, pretty. What’re we eatin’ today? Y/N, right?”

You looked up. Three boys. The one in front — Seongjae. Of course you knew him. Everyone did. But this was the first time you saw him this up close.

You gave him a glare. “What do you want, brat?”

One of his friends laughed. “Damn, noona’s got bite.”

Seongjae didn’t even flinch. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying it. He leaned in, resting his arm on the table.

“You know, girls like you are rare in my year. You’re kinda a gem.”

You put your chopstick down, fully turning to him. “Did you fall on your head as a kid or something?”

The table laughed, but Seongjae went serious for a second, locking eyes with you.

Then came the grin. That stupid cocky grin.

“This is gonna be fun.”

⸻

During cleanup duty, the school split students across the building. You got stuck restocking the chem lab alone. The sun was setting, casting everything in a weird, soft glow.

You stretched up on your toes, trying to reach some heavy-ass chemical box on the top shelf, cursing under your breath.

“Who the hell designs shelves like this—”

Suddenly, someone reached past you. No noise, no warning. Just a calm, smooth hand grabbing the box.

Seongjae.

You turned.

He’d taken off his blazer, shirt slightly undone, hair a little messy.

He handed it over.

“You again?” you muttered.

“Mm-hmm. Miss me?”

“Didn’t even think of you.”

“That’s cold. Thought we had something special after the cafeteria.”

“You annoyed the shit outta me.”

He pouted like a toddler. “When are you gonna start missing me? Just curious.”

“When you disappear. Maybe.”

“Damn. That’s tough. Guess you’ll never get the chance — ‘cause letting you be? Not in my plans.”

You paused.

But only for a second. You bounced back quick.

“Back off. I’m cleaning.”

“I get it. Not easy, adjusting. To me.”

You gave him a look and for the first time, he was talking with no jokes, no bullshit. Just calm. Kinda sincere.

It was weird.

But, of course, he ruined it a second later.

“Though honestly, the way your back arched when you reached up? Jesus.”

“Hey!”

He laughed. Loud. Shameless.

“Okay okay, I’m done.”

You turned back to the shelf, and he headed to the door. But right before leaving, he tossed a line over his shoulder:

“But don't forget. Once I bite, I don't let go.”

And he was gone.

You stayed there, alone with your thoughts, cursing the fact that your heart was actually beating faster.

⸻

Rumors exploded.

At first it was just whispers — girls giggling in the halls. “Did you hear that crazy first-year has a thing for an upperclassman?” “Who?” they’d ask, and when your name dropped, jaws dropped too.

You — the cold, untouchable one. Him — a literal menace. Together? Unreal.

But it wasn’t just talk anymore. Every damn day in the cafeteria, in the halls, people saw it. Saw him trailing you like a puppy. Saw how you didn’t exactly shut him down anymore.

Some said, “It’s cute.”

Some said, “If she falls for him, I’m done respecting her.”

He was obsessed. And everyone knew it.

The kid who beat the shit out of people for looking at him the wrong way… was simping. Hard.

And people started asking:

“Wait… is this serious?”

⸻

One day after school.

Sun low, air cool. You had your earphones in, walking home, zoning out.

Until someone jumped on your back.

“Yo, gorgeous! Gimme a piggyback ride!”

You didn’t even flinch. Just glanced over your shoulder. “Get off, idiot.”

“Nah, I’m comfy.”

He slid down and started walking beside you, hands in his pockets, chill as ever — but still stealing glances at you like you were some rare art piece.

“You look extra sexy today. I’ve said that how many times now? I’ve lost count.”

You smiled. Barely. But he noticed.

“Wait. You smiled. You’re falling for me, aren’t you?”

You turned to him. “Try again when you're legal.”

“Daaamn, was that a wink?”

“My eye twitched from stress, dumbass.”

He laughed that stupid laugh again.

And this time, as you kept walking, you didn’t look so pissed off.

⸻

The library was dead silent.

You were browsing books, fingers brushing titles — and you heard his footsteps before you saw him.

“Hmm… think they got anything like How to Make Her Fall in Love With You?”

You didn’t even look. “What do you want now, Seongjae?”

“You.”

You grabbed a book off the shelf and turned. “I’m sick of you.”

He leaned against the end of the aisle, tilting his head. “Nah. You’re having fun.”

“When are you gonna stop?”

“When you love me.”

“Never.”

He smirked. “Y/N"

"What?"

"if I started hanging out with some other girl… would you get jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

You turned away, walking. But he followed, same pace, same breath. Like a shadow that refused to leave.

⸻

Another day, after class, you stayed back. A guy from your grade — Jiwon — asked about something. Homework, test stuff. It turned into a light chat. He smiled. You smiled back, politely.

Normal.

But not for the eyes watching from the hallway.

Seongjae was watching. He was standing in the doorway, his fists clenched, his jaw clenched. When Jiwon made you laugh, something snapped.

He left. Without a word.

⸻

Later, Jiwon was in the back garden, smoking.

Seongjae showed up. Quiet as hell. No warning.

Jiwon barely had time to react.

“You saw me in the doorway and still had the courage to keep talking?”

Jiwon shrugged. “We were just talking, bro.”

“You’re not gonna talk to her. Not look at her. Not stand near her.”

Jiwon backed up. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Chill the fuck out.”

Then came the punch.

Hard.

Jiwon hit the ground.

Seongjae stood over him, eyes cold. “That girl’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will. Touch her again, and I swear I’ll kill you.”

And he walked away.

⸻

Next day, the whole school was buzzing.

“He beat up Jiwon.”

“For that girl.”

“You know her?”

They did.

Girls whispered in the bathroom.

“He said, ‘Come near her again and I’ll end you.’ Like… full psycho vibes.”

“But like… kinda hot?”

“You think that’s hot?! He’s nuts.”

But in the mirror… you saw something else.

Your own face.

And a smile you didn’t mean to make.

“Did I… actually like that?”

You tried to push it away. That’s toxic. That’s insane. He’s aggressive. Violent. Possessive.

But…

He beat someone just for talking to you.

And it felt…

Kinda good.

“Am I sick in the head?” Yeah. 100%.

And that’s when you knew — somewhere in his obsession, there was something that wrapped around you like armor. Maybe it was messed up.

But it was real.

⸻

Cafeteria.

This time, you made the move. Grabbed your tray, scanned the room, found him. Same as always — chill, laid-back, surrounded by friends. You walked straight up.

His friends froze.

You didn’t.

“I’m sitting here.”

Seongjae grinned. “Welcome.”

You didn’t touch your food. Just stared at him.

“I heard what you did.”

He raised a brow. Not even pretending to be innocent.

“Which part?”

“You punched that guy.”

“He was talking to you.”

“It was about class.”

“I don't care.”

You laughed. Actually laughed. That unhinged grin of his met yours.

“Did it turn you on?”

You stared into his eyes. "That was the hottest thing a guy ever done for me."

He paused.

Then smirked.

You both grinned.

There was no fight, no chaos. Not right then.

But the war between you?

Already raging.

⸻

A week passed. Now you both were sitting together outside in the yard. To anyone watching, it was surreal. You — the quiet, always reserved girl — were sitting next to the most dangerous boy in the first grade. And not intimidated or withdrawn. You were relaxed. Even… Comfortable.

He handed you his juice.

“Mango. Try it. It’s fire.”

“Disgusting.”

“So we don’t share, huh?”

He slung his arm around your shoulders.

You didn’t move. At first. Then shrugged lightly. But didn’t say anything.

“That bothering you?”

“Not sure. Probably not.”

He laughed. Pulled you a little closer.

“Admit it. You’re falling for me.”

You smiled.

Didn’t say no.

[cei1ne]

—How the MHA men would react to you wiping their kiss as a a prank!

დ”*•.Summary:

Reaction of male My hero academia character of you wiped their kiss after they had kissed your lips

◌⑅⃝♡��Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki ; Denki Kaminari ; Kirishima Eijirou ; Sero Hanta ; Shoto Todoroki

✩•̩̩͙*˚Tags: Fluff, funny, prank, loving, married life, aged up, kissing

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰Wordcount: 1.3k

❧◦°˚A/N:

I hope I included the very important sexy men ‌​and maybe I’ll do a part two but I’m not very famous right now but I think I will but also please don’t forget this is one of my first ‘story’? And English isn’t my first language! Ily guys!

Pt. 2. Masterlist

ᰔ ᩚ| Bakugou Katsuki (After he comes home from work)

The front door slammed, signaling Katsuki’s return from work. His heavy boots thudded against the floor as he dropped his bag and ran a hand through his messy hair. His usual scowl was deeper than usual—clearly, it had been one of those days. You greeted him with a soft smile, moving closer to help him shed his jacket.

“Tch, don’t bother,” he grumbled, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

“Well, hello to you too,” you teased, standing on your toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He froze for a second, tension bleeding out of his shoulders as he leaned into the kiss. It was sweet, rare, and enough to make his bad day feel distant. But the moment he pulled back, you wiped your mouth with an exaggerated grimace.

“Ugh,” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “Tastes like explosions.”

His crimson eyes narrowed, and his brow twitched. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I don’t know,” you said with a casual shrug. “It’s like… smoky. A little bitter, maybe.”

His mouth opened as if to yell, but then he stopped, his expression shifting from irritation to disbelief. “Are you messing with me right now?”

You tried to keep a straight face, but the smirk tugging at your lips gave you away. “Maybe.”

Katsuki groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be so sensitive!” you teased, poking his chest. “You’re not mad, are you?”

He scoffed, but the tips of his ears turned red. “Mad? Tch. Please. I don’t care.”

But as he turned away, you caught him muttering, “Next time, I’m making you taste like explosions.”

ঞ| Denki Kaminari (After he gives you a gift)

Denki burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear as he held a small, brightly wrapped box. “Guess what I got you!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in place.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Hmm, is it a puppy?”

“Better,” he said with a wink, handing you the box. Inside was a handmade bracelet, colorful and slightly mismatched, with beads spelling out your name and his. It was endearing and so Denki.

“Aw, Denki! It’s adorable,” you said, slipping it onto your wrist. “Thank you!”

Unable to contain your excitement, you leaned in and kissed him. He melted instantly, his cheeks glowing pink. But as soon as you pulled back, you wiped your mouth with an exaggerated motion.

His face fell immediately. “Wait… what was that?”

“Just… something tasted off,” you said, feigning confusion.

His eyes widened in horror. “Off?! Like, bad? Oh no, am I a bad kisser?!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as he started pacing, mumbling to himself. “Maybe I need to brush my teeth more. Or chew mint gum before—”

“Kaminari, relax,” you interrupted, unable to hold it in anymore. “I’m joking.”

He froze mid-step, blinking at you. “Joking? You mean… I don’t taste bad?”

“Of course not! You’re fine, idiot.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a mischievous grin. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Before you could react, he tackled you onto the couch, peppering your face with kisses. “Let’s see if you wipe these off too!”

ஐ| Kirishima Eijirou (While working out together)

The gym echoed with the sound of weights clinking and Kirishima’s encouraging voice. “C’mon, just one more set! You’ve got this!”

You groaned, your arms trembling as you completed the last rep. “Done!” you announced, dropping the weights and collapsing onto the bench.

Kirishima laughed, offering you a water bottle. “Good work, babe. You’re getting stronger every day.”

“Thanks, coach,” you teased, taking a long sip. He leaned in, his red hair falling slightly over his eyes, and kissed you. It was quick and sweet, but as soon as he pulled away, you wiped your mouth with an exaggerated grimace.

His smile faltered. “Uh… what’s wrong?”

“Just… sweaty,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

His face turned red, and not from exertion. “Wait, I’m sweaty?!”

“Yeah, kinda gross,” you added, biting back a laugh.

For a moment, he looked genuinely hurt, his hand subconsciously touching his lips. “I—I didn’t think I was that bad…”

Unable to take it any longer, you burst out laughing. “Eijirou, I’m kidding! You’re fine.”

Realization dawned on his face, and he broke into a wide grin. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

Before you could escape, he grabbed you, pulling you into a bear hug. “If I’m sweaty, you’re gonna be too!”

“No, Eijirou, stop!” you laughed, squirming in his arms. But he just held you tighter, his laughter joining yours.

❦| Sero Hanta (While watching a movie)

You and Sero were sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by snacks and watching a cheesy rom-com he insisted on. His arm was casually draped over your shoulders, and every so often, he’d glance at you to check if you were enjoying the film. As the leads leaned in for a dramatic kiss on screen, Sero smirked and turned to you.

“Bet you didn’t know I can do it better,” he teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. It was sweet and unhurried, his grin lingering even as he pulled back.

You wiped your mouth dramatically with the back of your hand, scrunching your face. “Ugh.”

Sero blinked, confused. “Uh… what was that?”

“Just… felt sticky. Like tape residue or something,” you said, fighting the urge to laugh.

His jaw dropped, and he let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, no you didn’t. Are you saying I kiss like tape?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

He stared at you for a moment before his lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Okay, you’re asking for it now.”

Before you could react, he launched himself at you, pinning you down on the couch and peppering your face with kisses. “Let’s see if you can wipe all these off, huh?”

“Stop! Hanta!” you laughed, squirming beneath him, but he only laughed harder.

Shoto Todoroki (During a quiet moment in the garden)

The garden was peaceful, the air filled with the soft scent of flowers and the warmth of the sun. Shoto sat beside you on the bench, his mismatched eyes fixed on the petals of a nearby bloom. You loved moments like this, where his normally stoic demeanor softened into something tender.

“Thanks for bringing me out here,” you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. He returned it, his lips cool against yours, and for a moment, the world seemed still.

But as soon as you pulled back, you wiped your mouth with an exaggerated frown.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Mm, kind of tastes… icy,” you said, smirking. “Like kissing a popsicle.”

He blinked, his face expressionless, but you could see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. “You knew I was cold, and you kissed me anyway. Complaining now seems counterproductive.”

You burst out laughing, and his smirk became more evident. “You’re such a troll,” you teased.

“I’m simply stating the facts,” he replied, but there was a rare glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Next time, I’ll use the hot side.”

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ nostalgia . . . m.s

in which . . . you spot your ex boyfriend matt at a party, and you decide to be a tease to piss him off on purpose

warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, car sex, kissing, breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, a little bit of praise, teasing, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

SO CLOSE TO WHAT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #15

you spot him the moment you walk in. matt. standing near the bar, laughing at something, his head tilting back just the way you remember. it’s been months, but the sight of him still sends a shiver down your spine. you weren’t expecting him to be here, but maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly why you came. your dress is shorter than necessary, your lips painted in the shade he used to smudge with his kisses. you glide through the room, pretending not to notice him, but you know he sees you. you can feel the weight of his stare tracing the curve of your bare shoulder, dipping lower.

you’re talking to someone. some guy whose name you won’t remember tomorrow…but matt is watching, and that’s the point. you laugh, tilting your head back just a little too much, letting your fingers trail along your collarbone, knowing exactly what it does to him. you sip your drink slow, licking the rim of the glass, and when you finally turn, meeting his eyes across the room, it’s electric.

matt’s next to you before you can blink, his voice low and rough. “you tryna start something?” you lift a shoulder, feigning innocence. “me? never.” but his hand is already at your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric, a silent challenge. the party hums around you, music pulsing, laughter ringing out, but it all fades as he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “if you keep teasing me like that, sweetheart, you know what’s gonna happen.” you smile, slow and sweet, because that’s exactly what you want.

his voice sends a thrill down your spine, but you don’t let it show. instead, you swirl your drink in your glass, pretending to think. “hmm. what’s gonna happen, matt?” your voice is all sugar and sin, and you know it drives him crazy. his fingers tighten at your waist, pulling you just a little closer, his body heat seeping into yours. you don’t resist. maybe you press into him just enough to make him feel it, the way your body remembers his. the way it still fits.

“you know exactly what,” he murmurs, eyes dark, locked onto yours. “but you like to play, don’t you?”you do. you always have. especially with him. you tilt your chin up, lips inches from his, close enough that his breath hitches. then you pull back, your fingers trailing down his chest like a whisper. “i have no idea what you mean.”

his jaw clenches, and you feel the tension crackling between you like a live wire. you wonder how long he’ll last before he snaps. before he forgets why you two ever walked away from each other in the first place. he exhales sharply, eyes flicking around the crowded room, then back to you. “come with me.”it’s not a request. it never is with him. but you’re not going to make it easy.

“why should i?” you tease, stepping back just a little, knowing he’ll follow. his fingers catch yours before you get too far, pulling you back against him, chest to chest. your breath catches, and for a second, neither of you move. it would be so easy—too easy—to give in right here, in the middle of the party, under the dim lights, with the bass thumping through the floor. “because,” he says, voice low and thick, “if you don’t, i’m gonna make you regret every second you wasted teasing me.”

your heart slams against your ribs, heat curling in your stomach. you smirk, lips inches from his. “make me, then.”

his eyes darken at your challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, jaw tight, fists clenching at his sides like he’s holding himself back. but you know better. you know he’s never been good at resisting you. just like you’ve never been good at resisting him. then, before you can even blink, his hand slides down to your wrist, fingers wrapping around it with just enough pressure to send a shiver down your spine. he leans in, so close that his lips brush against your ear, his voice thick with something that makes your stomach twist.

“let’s get out of here.”

you should say no. you should walk away. but instead, you let him pull you through the crowd, past the pulsing music and the flashing lights, past the people who don’t even notice the way he’s gripping your hand like he owns you. like he always has. the cool night air hit you as the two of you walked out, towards matt’s car. he opened the backseat, practically shoving you inside, climbing in himself and shutting the door. fuck, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this, matt was your ex. but, you really wanted to, you couldn’t resist him.

months of longing, simmering beneath the surface of your relationship, had finally reached a fever pitch. the quiet intimacy of the car, your hands, slick with sweat, moved over the contours of his body, tracing the perfect line of his jaw, the hard planes of his chest, the sculpted muscles taut beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. his eyes, dark pools reflecting the interior lights, were locked onto yours, a silent conversation of unspoken words and desires.

a low moan escaped your lips as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. his lips found the hollow of your neck, a trail of hungry kisses that sent shivers crawling down your spine. your own hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, tugging it open with a reckless abandon, reveling in the feel of his skin against yours. the rough texture of the fabric against your palms seemed to amplify the heat building between you. matt didn’t hesitate one bit to lift your silk dress.

the engine sputtered, a brief interruption that only heightened the urgency. matt’s hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your hip, the swell of your breasts, and the heat radiating from your core. a gasp escaped your lips as his fingers found the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

"i want you," matt murmured, his voice raspy with need.

"i want you too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible above the rhythmic drumming of the rain. your trembling hands found the worn fabric of his shirt, tugging on the hem of it. the rough texture of the fabric against your palms seemed to amplify the heat building between you.

"take it all off." you breathed, your eyes locked onto his.

matt smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes. "yeah? you want me to?"

"yes please.." you whispered, leaning into him, your body already pressing against his. matt immediately removed his shirt. a low growl rumbled from his chest as he began to slide your panties off of you. the cool night air brushed against your exposed skin, the contrast a stark reminder of the heat igniting between you. matt's fingers slipped between your legs, teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, a prelude to something more.

"oh god, matt.." you cried out as he nipped at your neck. the rain continued to fall, a silent witness to your escalating passion. his mouth found the soft curve of your neck, a trail of kisses leading down to the swell of your arousal. he pressed a kiss to your clit, a feather-light touch that sent a wave of pure pleasure through you. you arched into him, your body molding to his, a silent symphony of need. his lips, hungry and urgent, trailed down your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. his hands, masterful and knowing, explored every inch of your body, each touch igniting a fresh wave of desire. “shouldn’t have been such a tease, baby..” matt let the pet name slip out of his mouth, it was an old habit

he entered you slowly, his movements a rhythmic dance of pleasure and pain. your moans intertwined with the rhythmic drumming of the rain, a soundtrack to your shared passion. your body arched around him, every muscle tense with anticipation and need. his hands, working their magic, pressed against your hips, guiding his rhythm to match the pulse of your desire.

"fuck," you whispered, your body shuddering as he drove a deeper thrust into you. the world dissolved into a symphony of sensations, the only sounds the urgent rasp of your breaths and the throaty moans escaping your lips. your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him tight, as you reached your peak, a wave of pure, searing pleasure crashing over you.

you clung to him, the heat of your bodies radiating outwards, melting the icy night air around you. he followed closely, his body shuddering with a release that mirrored your own. his seed spilled into you, a warm tide of pleasure that washed over you. a ragged sob escaped your lips as you collapsed against him.

exhausted but exhilarated, you clung to each other, the lingering heat of the moment clinging to the cool leather of the backseat. the rain continued to fall, a silent witness to the passionate encounter. the memory of this clandestine rendezvous, this stolen moment of pure, unadulterated desire, would forever be etched in your minds, a secret whispered in the dark heart of the night. the air was thick with the lingering scent of your combined heat and the sweet, salty taste of passion. “fuck, sweetheart.” matt kissed the top of your head, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “did so good.” he praised.

these moments between you two, were all so nostalgic.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

💌: anddddd that’s a wrap for the writing marathon! thank u all sm for sticking around, i’m so shocked that i was able to write and post for 15 days straight!? my sleep schedule is going through it but it was all so worth it in the enddd i gained 300+ followers from this alone so thank you so truly much words can’t express my gratitude! anyway lots of special and new stuff coming soon yayyy i’m so happy and i would love to try doing this again in the future it was so fun! :)

[kurooh]

SWEET / or, sharing a joint with shoto one late night in bed.

★ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, smoking (weed), slowish sex, cunnilingus, eating sugar scrub.

“ooh, that peppermint smells so good, sho.”

“you think so?” he replies with a whisper, voice low and soft as he presses kisses into the slope of your shoulder. “i was hoping you’d say that, heh.”

you lazily sweep your hand through his damp hair, lightly tugging on minty tufts of red and white. “of course i think so, sho,” you giggle, raising the joint to your lips and snuggling up closely against his warm body, “you always smell amazing.”

“as do you,” the compliment naturally rolls off his tongue and shoto smiles into your skin, a small and happy smile. “honestly, your sugar scrub is amazing. sometimes when i’m in the shower..”

his voice trails off and you hurriedly blow smoke out your lips, handing him the joint. “no, you just started a story. you have to finish it, please!”

shoto laughs, inhaling deeply to try and build up his resolve so it won’t be as painful when you laugh at him. “mmm,” he inhales softly, tucking his face into your neck, right below your ear, “i may have eaten it a few times.”

“what!?” you laugh, startled and shaking in his arms, “there’s no way you’ve eaten that shit.”

the room spins a little, and the flowing curtains seem to move in slow motion. although the air is cold, you’re pressed up close to your personal heater and absolutely loving it. shoto throws an arm over your hip and tugs you into him, startling to giggle along with you. it’s ridiculous to think about — him standing in the shower and scooping sweet sugar scrub into his mouth like winnie the pooh with some honey.

“i do hope you forget about this by tomorrow,” he huffs, reaching toward the bedside table to snuff out the joint in an ashtray. “hmm, maybe a kiss will speed up the process for the both of us?”

“fineee,” you give in, letting him lean over you to connect your lips. your mouths meet languidly, in a way that’s not at all hurried and entirely relaxed. what starts off as a simple, chaste kiss becomes something more in no time; shoto’s hands start to wander and you turn over, pressing your front into his. he tastes like smoky weed and sweetness — the exact flavor and scent of your sugar scrub. obviously, he took a bite or two while you weren’t looking while in the shower earlier.

his hair is still soft and damp, and you’re skin to skin beneath the blankets. through the haze, you can feel your hearts beating together — there’s little time to think about it before he’s tugging away for breath. “sho,” your lower lip wobbles as he lavishes your neck and chest in quick, open mouthed kisses, “we already went a few rounds in the shower, ‘m still a little tired.”

almost immediately, shoto pulls back, cheeks growing rosier than usual. “i wasn’t thinking of that.”

“i can literally feel you getting hard against me.”

he sighs, embarrassed. those earnest, reddened eyes of his seem to pin you down against the downy pillows when he throws a bashful look at you. “i’ve just been thinking about a midnight snack. it’s midnight, is it not?”

sure enough, you glance over at his phone, which lights up with a recent photo of the two of you set as the lockscreen. you offer him a cheeky smile, interested in his sudden craving for a sweet snack, “looks like it. sooo, what did you have in mind?”

“well, lovey,” he huffs, quickly and carefully angling himself onto his stomach between your thighs. the soft pads of his fingers trace invisible designs into your skin and he speaks while looking directly into your eyes. “since the shower, i’ve been wanting to eat you up.”

your hand slips beneath his chin and you cup his cheek affectionately, thumb stroking over his lower lip. your breath hitches when he lightly sucks your finger into his mouth, eyeing you as he swirls his tongue around it.

“well, what’re you waiting for?” you ask, voice trembling when he lets your finger go with a pop! and nuzzles his face into your hip. shoto litters the plush skin with kisses that already make you whine quietly. it’s the excitement and anticipation that has sticky arousal pooling between your thighs — he’s a good eater.

sensually and slowly, shoto’s tongue drags over the downward slope of your pelvis, pretty eyes on yours as he descends further.

“tell me what you want, hm?” he urges, voice thick and sultry.

“t-the way you usually do it,” you whisper, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment when he arches a brow in faux confusion. “sho, pleaseee.”

“i want you to tell me, though,” he counters, warm breath fanning right over your slick cunt. god, it’s unbearable . . he’s so close and yet so far away. “don’t be all shy, it’s jus’ me.”

you spread your legs, giving him a better view of your pussy and the wetness that leaks from your folds. bashfully, you clear your throat. “i—um, i want you to lick me, that’s what you always do first.”

the words at the end of your sentence wobble when he does as you say, pale eyelids fluttering shut so he can drink you up. his tongue, hot and silky, strokes up and down your slit hungrily. you continue, shuddering, “and use your fingers to rub my clit—fuck, right there—need you to lick harder.”

“like this?” shoto mumbles innocently, thumb finding your clit while he starts to lap at your messy folds. slowly, he applies more pressure with that tongue of his, starting to slurp up your slick and his own saliva while he rolls your clit between his fingers. it seems to happen quickly, but that foggy haze in your head delays everything deliciously and makes you more sensitive to his touch. soon enough, you’re rocking your hips toward his face while you arch off the bed, a hand sliding into his hair while the other squeezes at the sheets.

“sho, ‘s perfect, just don’t stop.”

just like you’ve taught him to, he listens, letting himself slip into a state of euphoria. your smell, taste, and sounds are amplified by the weed but it doesn’t feel like too much. in fact, it’s not enough.

your breath catches in your throat when his large hands grasp your thighs and pull you into his face. he lets out a pleased moan, which is muffled by the lewd slurping and sucking of your cunt.

oh, shoto’s tongue is killer—it’s got your eyes rolling back into your skull while you shudder. with him, everything is even better because he’s always made it clear that he eats it for his pleasure, which is yours.

“ah, god,” you whimper, back arching off the bed, “sho, just a little harder—yeah, you’re gonna make me c-cum, please don’t stop!”

the ceiling seems to swirl around, and shocks of electricity race through your body, zapping away your focus on anything else. your legs are trembling on either side of his head, and you’re panting just from looking at him enjoying himself between your legs. it’s so much, all at once, and you’re struggling to speak as you dissolve into bliss.

“sho—fuck, ‘m cumming,” your legs wrap around his head tightly and your fingers delve deeper into his hair, twitching while he licks you through it. dizzy and seeing stars, you slowly start to come down, pointlessly flinching away from his touch. “h-hold on, it’s too much right now, i just came.”

“don’t care,” shoto gasps, and you see him rutting his hips into the bed desperately, “you jus’ taste so damn good, c-can’t stop myself..”

he’s holding you against his face and whining into your overstimulated pussy, all while thrusting his hips into the mattress like he’ll die if he doesn’t. the veins in his arms suddenly tighten, becoming as taut as a bowstring—he’s squeezing you tightly as he cums, sweat beading on his forehead beneath his now dry hair.

shoto’s head tips to the side, resting lazily against your thigh. he breathes heavily, shaking between your legs as he recovers from the strength of his orgasm. after all, he cums the hardest when he’s high, a fact that is never forgotten when lighting up.

“you okay?” you ask gently, fingers stroking over the sticky skin of his cheek. a soft grunt and a few quiet snores answer you almost immediately—he’s fallen asleep, with cum all over his face and pelvis.

“sho . . ? aww, wake up, we have to change the sheets.”

he turns over, snuggling into you and inhaling your scent from the crease of your thigh. an occasional habit of his, shoto sometimes falls asleep after sex, no matter the place. those pretty eyelashes of his flutter over his cheekbones and he starts to breathe steadily, completely relaxed. although your eyelids feel heavy too, you decide to rest for five minutes — but after a moment, you’re asleep too.

[sturn777]

FRATBOY!CHRIS SEES YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME.

CHRIS ISN'T USED TO BEING SPEECHLESS. but when you walk into the frat house, dressed to kill, heels clicking against the floor like you own the place—he damn near forgets how to breathe.

you don’t even spare him a glance, too busy fixing your lip gloss in the reflection of your phone camera, looking wholly unimpressed with the sea of drunk, sloppy guys around you.

“who’s that?” chris mutters to matt, eyes locked on you as you make your way to the bar, your dress hugging every curve just right.

“don’t even try,” matt snorts, clapping him on the shoulder. “she’d eat you alive.”

chris ignores him, already making his way over. because if there’s one thing he loves, it’s a challenge.

and you? you look like the type of girl who makes men beg.

he slides in beside you, resting an elbow on the bar, flashing that cocky grin that gets him out of trouble more often than not. “you look lost, sweetheart.”

your gaze flicks to him, bored and unimpressed. “do i?”

his smirk falters for a split second. he’s used to girls eating up the frat boy charm, melting at the attention of chris sturniolo, but you don’t even bat an eye.

“yeah,” he recovers quickly, leaning in just enough to get a whiff of whatever expensive perfume you’re wearing. “but lucky for you, i know my way around.”

“oh, how kind,” you deadpan, giving him a slow once over. “lemme guess. you’re gonna offer me a drink, then spend the whole night trying to get in my pants?”

chris blinks. “i mean—”

“because if that’s the plan, just save us both the trouble and go bother some other girl instead.”

jesus christ.

he should walk away.

he should.

but instead, he just grins, because if anything, you’ve just made him more interested.

“you think i’m that predictable, huh?” he muses, tilting his head as he watches you sip your drink, lips glossy and shining under the dim lights.

you arch a perfect brow. “i think you’re like every other frat boy in here. same cologne, same cocky attitude, same—” your gaze flicks down, lips twitching “silver chain.”

“you’re brutal.”

“i’m honest.”

chris laughs, shaking his head. “alright, darlin'. what does a guy have to do to impress you, then?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think it over. “hmm… not be a frat boy for starters.”

he places a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “ouch.”

you roll your eyes. “seriously? you’re actually still here?”

“yep,” he grins, popping the ‘p.’

you exhale through your nose, setting your drink down with a little too much force. “you just love annoying girls, don’t you?”

“only the ones who look this good when they’re pissed off,” he quips, eyes flickering down to where your dress hugs your waist.

you suck in a sharp breath, and for the first time all night, chris sees something in your expression other than thinly veiled irritation.

intrigue.

“cute,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“so, what’s your deal?” he presses, watching you twirl a manicured finger around the rim of your glass. “you show up looking like a fucking dream just to roll your eyes at everyone?”

you smirk. “maybe.”

“so you like the attention.”

“i like watching guys make fools of themselves over me.”

“huh,” he hums, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. “you get off on that, huh? leading guys on, watching them chase you?”

“why? you jealous?”

“nah,” chris says easily, sipping his beer. “just tryna figure out what makes you tick.”

you lean in, eyes flickering down to his lips. “you sure you can handle the answer?”

his grip tightens around his bottle. fuck.

he’s been with cocky girls before. girls who tease, who like the push and pull, the chase.

but you?

you’re something else.

© STURN777

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[asksonicverse]

You dont need to answer but I just wanted to tell you I adore Paradox being like "I hate all of them except" and then listing everyone except like 2 guys, honey you don't hate *all* of them you expressly don't hate *most of them*

Extremely charming characterization i adore it

[Creator Special number 2!]

So glad someone noticed that, I was originally going to have him name EVERYONE except Boost but then I was like “nah, Mania is just too annoying for Paradox to tolerate him”

And thanks! I’m trying to be… consistent with my characterization of each of them and stay in line with canon but like… URGH sometimes I want to deviate so bad just to indulge but I resist!

Needless to say tho, prism is probably going to get more affectionate later on. Rewatched Sonic Prime again and bro is a cutie patootie!

Headcanons… headcanons… hmm

Well, starting with the obvious, Paradox goes to therapy as I’ve mentioned which I think is hilarious. He and Lance are the only Shadows who really have their shit together which is why I think Sonadow works well for them? (we stan healthy relationships guys)

I do head canon that Eight doesn’t like being touched really at all anymore. After the metal virus, he grew so used to the fact that he couldn’t touch anyone that it sorta just stuck. He does it to save people, but not anything more. :(

And while I’m a sucker for the Trans Sonic HC I decided not to implement it in this particular AU!

I really want to include Captain Sonic and Shadow, but I haven’t played nor watched a serious play through of the game. (I’ve only really listened to a bit of the Snapcube dub..)

can someone tell me if Shadow is a Barista or a Mechanic in that game btw?? I google it, nothing pops up. I could’ve sworn there was something about a mechanic.

Uhh I LOVE Sonic Frontiers, fire game. If I include that one, it’ll ALSO be Sonamy since I’m pretty sure that game takes place before SA2 in canon?

I’m trying to keep the Sonics and Shadows balanced but I’d love to add Generations Shadow and Sonic. Just thinking of names already I get “Doom” for Shadow and “Emerald” for Sonic. (Referencing the fake emerald from their interaction in the shadow story)

Unfortunately I haven’t seen the Archie comics or Sonic Underground so I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Someone also asked about if I’d ever include different AU’s: maybe if those AU creators gave me permission I’d be down to do a collab for a few asks or something!

Nope!

I dunno I just..! … how do I do? I’m fast. And you’re slow. That’s how I did it. /ref

Ahahah just kidding! But I am very fast. A few years ago I convinced myself I was a “slow drawer” because I was in a discord server with someone I looked up to (and holy cheese they could draw out fully articulate sketches in like 30 seconds!)

So I got insecure and taught myself to draw really fast. So now I just.. zoom! This does have a terrible draw back where I will very frequently forget smaller details.

Like if you look at half the posts, Shadow is missing his eyeliner and other markings frequently.

THIS IS JUST HILARIOUS TO ME YOU GUYS. PLEASE—

I’ve gotten SO many asks in my box about using Maria to calm the Shadows down or trying to give Shadows “Maria plushies”

Imagine you’re having a bad day and you get a plushie of your dead sibling thrown at you??? LMFAOOOO

I CANT I CANT I CANT PUT THEM THROUGH THAT 💔 Also I see every single ask.

“Do you all like Latinas” and “sonic which shadow is the hottest/shadow which sonic is the hottest” have all been engraved in my brain

Was joking with a friend on how that second question would come out LMFAOO

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