#my muscles are weird rn man

[chronically-chaotic-cryptid]

I used my wheelchair for the first time in school today and it's so strange how it becomes this open invitation for people to guess at or question your medical status. Like, the assumption that this is a permanent thing, or that I'm injured (I've never seen a bright green hospital chair but ok) or to ask me about how long this will be going on for etc. etc.

And, I don't really blame the people asking all that much. For them, it's a way to show that they care about my wellbeing. It's the society they've all grown up in that tells them that this question is ok to ask and fails to educate them about disability. That's what's created this. Trying to show care ends up becoming ableism and ignorance when the world chooses to ignore disabled people and our lives.

So, yeah.

[raeathnos]

.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Zayne's celebrity significant other. 

Imagine you had not planned to go live tonight.

but Imagine the apartment felt too quiet and you were too wired to sleep. You had just finished your last taping for the week, removed your makeup with the same lazy precision of someone who has done it a hundred times, and decided why not talk to your followers while you wind down?

Imagine you started a social media live. Nothing glamorous. Just you in an old tank top and a messy bun, legs crossed on the floor by the vanity. You told them you'd be doing your nighttime skincare routine. They flooded in anyway, laughing and teasing and asking questions in the chat.

Imagine you greeted the regulars.

Abcdeffg: you always go live when you're home alone huh 😭

Ladsslave: not you going bare faced and still looking better than my whole lineage

2days3days: did ur man vanish again 😭

Ztrope: 👀👀👀

1sht1kll: why do i feel like we're about to witness a reveal again

Ladsslave: not again. please god. i can't take another one

Imagine the way you roll your eyes at that last one, some weird trend seemed to be going on nowadays. "My boyfriend is not invisible. He's just... Difficult to catch." You said, rubbing toner into your skin. "He works late a lot, and no, he's not secretly a K-pop idol. Or a cult leader. Please stop guessing that."

Imagine the way your chat exploded with emotes and half serious conspiracy theories. You ignored the usual hate.

clote4: they're pretending again like her boyfriend ain't fake lol

1233kill: imagine hiding your man bc he's ugly 😭😭

dmnlf: must be embarrassing dating someone irrelevant

Imagine the way you smiled, unbothered. It's been like this for years. The world knew you were dating someone outside of showbiz and the tabloids hated that you refused to show his face. Photos of his back, his arm, the edge of his shoe. Your game of hide and seek had become a media circus. You'd gotten good at dodging paparazzi and cropping images. It was kind of fun, in a feral little way.

but Imagine the truth. You kept him hidden because the world was vicious and Zayne didn't ask for any of this. He was your soft place. Your safety. He saved lives not likes.

Imagine you eventually stood up, phone still propped on the table and stretched. "Alright, I'm gonna rinse, don't leave." You told the chat, before padding barefoot into the bathroom.

Imagine the chat continued to scroll rapidly without you. And then without any commotion, Zayne walked into frame. Just like that.

Imagine the way he entered the apartment silently. Still in his white coat and fitted dark scrubs with the sleeves slightly pushed up. His stethoscope was slung lazily around his neck. He looked exhausted but good. The kind of good that came from existing in someone else's home, not trying to impress anyone.

Imagine he did not see the phone on the table. Did not notice the stream.

Imagine he just tugged off his watch with one hand and move through the living room like muscle memory, his movements gentle. Shoes off. White coat on the hook. A soft sigh as he set down a grocery bag. Milk, tea, sweets and oranges. He then ran a hand through his hair, leaned against the counter and blinked slowly like he was still halfway out the door in his mind.

Imagine the way the chat lost their collective mind.

Ztrope: WAIT WHO IS THAT

Ladsslave: NO FUCKING WAY THAT'S HIM

Abcdeffg: the SCRUBS??? THE STETH??

2days3days: why does he look like he's in a medical kdrama rn STOP

clote4: oh.

dmnlf: suddenly i understand why they gatekept

1sht1kll: .... is this some kind of multiverse of malewife reveals? I fear we're stuck here

Imagine the way he scratched the back of his neck, yawning. Then habitually, absentmindedly he walked over the table and picked up the little ceramic dish where your rings lived when you weren't wearing them. He turned one between his fingers then set it back down. A small fond smile tugged at his mouth. Still unaware.

Imagine it wasn't until he turned toward the bathroom where a sound was coming from that he finally caught it. The soft red glow of the live indicator on your phone. His body paused, mid turn. He squinted over his glasses. Tilted his head. Registered the fact that the lens was pointed directly at him.

and Imagine it was on real time, three hundred thousand viewers witnessed the exact moment your very private boyfriend realized he was in a very publicly live.

Imagine the way his eyes widened a fraction. He blinked. Everyone could see the mental processing of denial, confusion, dread, betrayal then acceptance in that exact order.

Imagine he then did something so incredibly Zayne. He froze, then quietly backed out of frame like a ghost who had accidentally walked into the wrong haunting. The chat absolutely erupted.

Ztrope: SIR YOU ARE ALREADY CAUGHT COME BACK

Ladsslave: HE JUST MOONWALKED OUT OF THE STREAM I'M CRYING

Abcdeffg: NOT THE REVERSE STEP OF SHAME 😭😭😭

2days3days: NAHHHH BRING HIM BACK RN

clote4: actually he's fine nvm

Imagine the way you reentered the frame a moment later, patting your face dry with a towel, completely unaware of the war zone your comment section had become. "Okay, next is-" You froze.

Imagine because right  now on top of the table, your phone was slightly tilted. And you could see him. Just behind you, in the hallway mirror's reflection, Zayne. Halfway hidden behind the kitchen wall, arms crossed and blinking at you like a cat who had fallen off the counter and wanted to pretend he meant to do that.

"...Were you live this whole time?" He asked, voice soft but incredulous. You turned slowly. "Zay..." He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me I didn't just soft launch myself."

Imagine there was a pause. One breath. Then another. Then you start to panic. A soft, fast, whispering as you scramble toward the camera. "Oh god- the live! I was still live, it's on-"

Imagine the way Zayne hand catches yours as you walk over to the camera. His hand still cold from outside. Cold but steady and even a little warm. You look up at him and he smiles, quiet, tired, but fond. "Hey." He says as if you're the only one in the world. "It's okay."

Imagine then he turns to the phone. To the live audience. His voice is calm, but you can feel the tension in his fingers wrapped with yours. "I'm Zayne." He says, expression unreadable except for the slight quirk at the corner of his mouth "Their boyfriend. Yes, I'm real."

Imagine the way he says it so simply, so dry. The chat goes feral. The chat screamed.

1sht1kll: DEJA VU DEJA VU DEJA VU

Ztrope: HARD LAUNCH. THIS WAS A HARD. LAUNCH.

2days3days: he said 'soft' launch while looking like a heart surgeon in a cologne ad pls

Ladsslave: nah girl you just gave us our new parasocial dad. thank you.

Imagine the way Zayne's thumb brushes your knuckle. You glance at him and he looks calm. But you know by the way that his hands felt cold that he's nervous. He's not used to this. So you hold his hand a little tighter. Lean your head on his shoulder.

Imagine then you turned to face the camera. "... So anyway. This is Zayne. Yes, he's real. Yes, he's my boyfriend. And no, you cannot have him." There was a pause "You guys always said he wasn't real." You murmur with a soft smile. "Well. Surprise."

Imagine beside you, Zayne gave the camera a tiny, exhausted wave, like someone greeting an alien spaceship for the first time.

"I brought oranges." He says like a whisper. "I turned down the extra hour." He added, voice gentle and sweet, just for you. "Thought maybe we could just stay in. Be boring. Watch something terrible. Fall asleep on the couch. Just like what you wanted?" The chat melted.

1sht1kll: THE PANIC IN THEIR EYES 😭😭😭

Abcdeffg: HE BROUGHT HER ORANGES. I’M SOBBING

Ladsslave: WE STAN DR. ORANGE

Ztrope: THE MAN. THE MYTH. THE FACE CARD NEVER DECLINED.

clote4: lol acting like this isn't staged

2days3days: MY PARASOCIAL HEART CAN'T TAKE ANOTHER REVEAL I SWEAR TO GOD

Imagine the way you reached over to end the stream. "Okay, I'm logging off before this turns into a cult." Zayne leaned over your shoulder, glancing at the screen just before it went black. "... Too late." He murmured. Then just before you press the end the live, you pause just long enough to say. "We're logging off now. I owe this man a couch nap and a bad movie."

Imagine that was the night your quiet, different to catch, saintly boyfriend accidentally got exposed to half the internet with nothing but a grocery bag, a tired smile, and the audacity of existing in your space like he belonged there. Because he did.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: ahhhh uni days is approaching might as well jdhsjjdhsh

[the-auguer]

Surprise, Surprise

Tiny little drabble of Sylus based on a random text convo where he’s like “yeah, lol, ppl are attacking the base rn baby”. he’s my babygirl and I’m literally obsessed with him etc etc. no content warnings, just fluff

~

There are strange noises coming from the other side of the house. It makes your brows furrow, uncertainty making you pause in the grand foyer. It’s in your nature as a hunter to  investigate, to take initiative and listen to your gut. Your hand drifts down to your Harrier 700, lightly thumbing at the holster. 

But you’re tired. This week hadn’t just dug its fangs into you, it had nearly ripped bloody chunks from your body. Literally. An entire pack of Elysian Lupus had been giving you pain since Sunday— and these were smart little shits because they somehow knew to run away while other Wanderers attacked civilians. You had taken a grim kind of pleasure in finally destroying the last one. 

So instead of unholstering your very illegal, very dangerous gun, you pluck your phone from your pocket and open up your contacts. 

Sylus picks up after a ring and a half— practically late for him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, sweetie? It’s rather early for you to be calling.”

“Captain Jenna gave me the day off,” you can’t help but brag. “Due to my excellence in the field and all that. I was going to surprise you.”

“Were you?” Sylus hums. There are more sounds on the other side of the line, further cementing your belief that something is happening. “What changed?”

“There are weird sounds coming from somewhere. Is something going on?”

“Oh, nothing much.” There is something like a pained grunt that reaches your ears, but it’s not Sylus’s so you keep waiting. “The base is just under attack.”

Your chest tightens, your hand gripping the handle of your gun. It takes a couple seconds, but your knee-jerk compulsion to charge to Sylus’s side subsides. Whatever is going on, Sylus doesn’t sound all that worried about it. If anything, there is a bit of laughter bleeding through his voice. Luke and Kieran are more than likely next to him as well, as they were the ones you texted to ensure that Sylus was even home for your surprise. Not to mention the seemingly endless supply of personal weapons Sylus could use if he decided his fists weren’t enough. Whatever idiot decided to attack Sylus on his turf— in his own house— deserved what was coming to them. The muscles that had tensed without your realization slowly relaxed. 

“Do you need any help?” you ask, just to be sure. 

“Not unless you want to play with any of the mice, kitten.” Sylus chuckles at his own joke. Once again, you think to yourself that he really is lucky that he is the most attractive man alive. Those words in anyone else’s mouth would have made you hang up. 

“I’ll just wait for you to finish. I’ve done enough playing this week,” you tell him, squatting down to unlace your boots. 

“Ah yes,” Sylus purrs. “My exemplary hunter has worked so hard this week.”

“Those stupid mutts,” you complain as you toe off your shoes, feet aching pleasantly against the cool tile flooring. Driving here by bike has not helped the soreness of your body, but you’re hoping the long weekend here will heal you. “Did you see them, Sylus? They were playing with me.”

“Yes, I did. How very cruel of them to doge Miss Hunter. How silly of them to want to stay alive.”

“It was,” you reply, padding down the massive halls. “They targeted other Fluxes on purpose, Sylus. I know they knew I couldn’t chase them if I had other problems on my hands.” You poke your head around a corner. “Where are you at, by the way?”

“Near the grounds. They thought they could weasel their way in under the fence. Oh, look Kieran. They finally brought out their guns.”

True to his word, you hear the echo of gunshots both through the phone and from the air around you. Luckily, the grounds are a far way off from Sylus’s bedroom, so your original plan is still intact. You continue to walk. 

“Keep those away from me,” you order. “I’m too tired to dodge anything.”

“They won’t make it through the walls, sweetie. They’re reinforced.”

Despite his words, the sound of gunfire abruptly cuts off. 

“Perfect. Who are they anyway?”

“Who knows,” Sylus sounds deeply uninterested in the answer. “I don’t keep track of small fry.”

“Yes you do. I bet you let them attack. Were you getting bored, Sylus?”

Sylus laughs, low and pleased. It makes you smile. “Well, if I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t be entertaining other guests today.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. And now you’re surprised and happy that I’m here.”

“Am I?”

Your hand pauses on the door handle of his bedroom. It was presumptuous to show up to his house, to invite yourself in. But you had rather gotten the impression that he wanted you to be presumptuous. Unless you read it wrong and now you look like an asshole. “Are you?” 

There’s a slight pause before Sylus’s voice comes back through the phone, sounding even warmer than before. “I’m very happy. So happy I’ve grown bored of my other guests and aren’t letting them play as long as I scheduled. I’ve even asked the chef to come back in for the weekend.” 

There’s a glow of delight pressing on the inside of your chest, coiling around your heart. You open the door to Sylus’s room and go even further by opening the door to his closet. “Mm, good.”

“What’s that rustling I’m hearing?” 

“I’m in your closet,” you inform him as you run your fingers over the clothes in consideration. “I didn’t want to carry anything on the bike and I figured you’d have anything I needed.”

“I do,” he says, a satisfied inflection in his tone. “And if there’s anything I don’t have, I’ll get it.”

A smile pulls at your lips, the pleased feeling in your chest swelling again. “I know,” you reply, feeling impossibly fond. You pick out a shirt of his that you like, one of his casual sweaters that you’ve seen him wear more than a singular time, and walk out. 

“What are your plans for our weekend?”

“Nothing really.” You put him on speaker before placing your phone on his nightstand to change. “I figured we could sleep, actually, since it’s around the time that you usually go to bed. I could use a really long nap after this week.” You leave your bike clothes on the floor in a heap and your gun in the holster on the nightstand. You’ll fix them later. You’re sore and tired and bundled up in Sylus’s sweater in front of the comfiest bed known to man. You’re not folding those things. 

Before crawling under his duvet, you pull your phone off the nightstand. Speakerphone is loud enough to catch the intake of breath from the other side. 

“Kitten…. are you in my bed?”

“Mhm,” you reply, arranging the pillows as you like them. “You don’t have to rush what you’re doing. I told you I’d wait.”

There is a moment of silence before Sylus says a simple, even, “I’ll be there in a moment,” before hanging up.

Bemused, you toss your phone back onto the nightstand and pull the duvet up to your chin. The bed is so wonderfully comfortable, you feel your weary muscles sink into the plush beauty of it. 

You don’t do anything more than rest your eyes for a few moments before the door is opening. It’s telling that your hand doesn’t even twitch towards your gun, that your eyes only crack open to greet him. Sylus would never let someone into a room where you were resting. 

Sylus strides in, hardly stopping for the half a second it takes to close the door behind him. You don’t have the time to say anything before he is on the bed, pulling you to his chest. 

“Hi,” you breathe. He’s on top of the blankets, making it a slight struggle to pull your arms out from under them to hold him in return. Despite having just been in a gunfight, his clothes are pristine and his skin is free from any sweat. There’s the faint smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. You press your face into his neck to inhale all of it. 

“When you said you would wait,” he starts, hands smoothing back and forth over your spine, his low voice rumbling through his chest to yours, “I didn’t imagine it would be in my bed. In my clothes.” 

You try to pull back to look at him, put his hand pushed your face back into your neck. “Don’t. Stay right here.”

“Sorry,” you whisper back. Should you have asked before getting in his bed? He doesn’t seem to be mad at all, so maybe not? “You didn’t have to leave because of me.”

“Don’t apologize either.” He squeezes you closer, the thick duvet squished flat between the two of you. “I am�� very happy. I am happier here than I was out there. Luke and Kieran will handle the rest.”

“Okay,” you mumble, lips brushing his skin. “I— I’m happy too. That you’re here now. I wanted to see you.”

“You should have said so.”

You scoff. “It was obvious. Why else would I be here?”

Sylus hums. “To arrest me, perhaps? That would be fun.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” you say darkly. You don’t think you could stomach even pretending to arrest Sylus. You shift around trying to pull some slack from the part of the duvet trapped under Sylus’s hulking body. “Get ready for bed so you can get under the blanket with me.”

A soft kiss is pressed to the top of your forehead. “Alright. Stay here.”

You turn over to watch him as he walks into his closet. He emerges fairly quickly after, just in a pair of pajama pants. You catch a glimpse of a pile on the floor of his closet before he shuts the door. 

As he makes his way back, you peel back the blanket from his side, inviting him in. Once he lays down, he pulls you to him again, hitching your leg over his thigh and sliding his arm under your pillow. You shift, settling into the position, wrapping your arm back around him. He leans in so that your nose brushes his. 

“I might insist that you do this every weekend,” he murmurs, eyes locked with yours. 

“I might let you,” you say back.

Sylus sighs, pushing your head into his neck again, his nose in your hair now. “Your answer had better be the same when you’re no longer tired.”

“We’ll see.”

When your eyes start to drift closed, he says quietly, “It was a good surprise.”

You smile into the skin of his neck.

[devdozes]

Spiderman phainon but what about Spiderman mydeimos???

SPIDERMAN MYDEIMOS‼️

AAAA I NEED TO START DRAWING SPIDEY MYDEI RN

Being Spider-Man's Girlfriend was supposed to be cool, but nobody told you it would involve this much damage control.

"Hold still, Mydeimos, you're bleeding on the couch again."

"It's fine," he said, tone as flat as ever, even as you pressed a disinfectant wipe to his arm. His golden eyes barely flicked toward the wound. "It'll heal."

"Yeah, but my couch won't," you huffed. "You keep doing this, and we're gonna have to invest in plastic covers like an old married couple."

"Tch. Ugly."

"So is your arm right now."

He exhaled sharply through his nose—his version of a laugh. His whole vibe screamed 'intimidating man who has no time for nonsense,' but you knew better. Mydei might look like a cold, blunt realist, but he had his moments of secret softness. Not that he'd ever admit to them.

"You saw the news, right?" he asked, switching topics while you bandaged him up. "Everyone thinks Spider-Man is terrifying. Some reporter said I move like a 'predator in the dark.'" He scoffed. "I'm saving them, and they still call me scary."

You patted his arm, amused. "To be fair, you do have that whole 'gruff, intimidating presence' thing going on."

"They can't even see my face."

"No, but you could stop glaring at people like you're deciding their fate."

Mydei clicked his tongue and looked away. He totally did that.

Once you finished bandaging him, you leaned back with a satisfied grin. "There, all done. Now you can go back to swinging around the city like a menace."

"I'm not a menace."

"You also saved a kitten today and pet its head for like a whole minute."

"Shut up."

You beamed. Got him.

He sighed and leaned back, arms crossed, eyes scanning the ceiling as if contemplating the entire universe. This was the real Mydei. Not the scary, unapproachable figure everyone thought he was. This was your Mydei—the one who let you patch him up, who tolerated your teasing, who had a hidden love for cute things and a soft spot for you.

You nudged his leg with your foot. "Wanna watch something? I promise not to pick anything stupid."

"Liar."

"Okay, I promise not to pick something too stupid."

He huffed but didn’t object as you grabbed the remote. A victory. A small one, but still.

A few minutes passed before he moved again. This time, he didn’t just rest his arm around you—he practically wrapped himself around you, his strong arms locking you in place. His head buried into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You blinked. "Uh... Mydei?"

He mumbled something unintelligible but didn’t budge.

A small laugh bubbled up in your throat. Everyone called him a tiger, but for you, he was just a big, clingy cat.

"You're really comfy," he muttered, voice low, almost sheepish. "And warm."

Your heart did an embarrassing flip. How was this the same guy who scared half the city?

Smiling, you brought a hand up, gently running your fingers through his hair. "I swear, for someone with a scary reputation, you sure act like an oversized cat sometimes."

"Don't make it weird."

"Too late."

Mydei groaned but didn’t move an inch. If anything, he held you tighter.

Minutes passed, and you realized he wasn’t just holding you—he was trapping you. His arms were ridiculously strong, making escape impossible. Even shifting slightly earned you a grumble from where his face was buried in your neck.

"Uh, Mydei? I can’t move."

"Don’t need to."

You huffed. "Okay, but I kinda wanna grab the popcorn—"

"No."

You tried to wiggle an arm free. Failed. "Mydei, you're literally Spider-Man. You can reach it."

"Lazy."

"You're the one pinning me down!"

"Mhm."

He was completely content like this, muscles relaxed, warmth radiating from him as he clung to you like some oversized, stubborn cat refusing to let go of its favorite person.

Eventually, you gave up and sighed. "You better not fall asleep on me."

No response. Just the steady rhythm of his breathing, still wrapped around you like a human blanket.

You were about to tease him again, but the comfort of his warmth, the quiet hum of the movie playing in the background, and the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours started to lull you into drowsiness. His breath was slow, his hold secure, and before you knew it, your own eyelids grew heavy.

Sinking deeper into his embrace, you let sleep take over, your fingers still loosely tangled in his hair. Mydei shifted slightly, adjusting his grip just enough to bury his face even further into the crook of your neck, murmuring something inaudible in his sleep.

And just like that, you both drifted off—tangled together, warm, safe.

Mydei woke up first, groggy but comfortable. The first thing he noticed was you, still tucked under him, breathing softly in your sleep.

His golden eyes softened. He was heavy, practically draped over you like a living weighted blanket, yet you hadn’t pushed him away. You let him stay.

Carefully, he loosened his grip—just enough to scoop you up in his arms, moving with the silent ease of someone used to carrying people through the city.

You barely stirred as he lifted you, your face nuzzling against his chest instinctively.

Mydei sighed, pressing a quiet kiss to your forehead before walking toward your bedroom. But Just as Mydei tucked you into bed, his entire body tensed. A sharp, unmistakable sting prickled at the back of his neck—his spider-sense screaming.

His golden eyes snapped toward the window, instincts already kicking in. Something was happening.

In one swift motion, he pulled the blanket up over you, making sure you were comfortably settled. His fingers lingered for just a second—reluctant, but there was no time to hesitate. Duty called.

He turned, moving across the room with silent precision, already shrugging on his suit and golden metal claws. The familiar fabric clung to him like a second skin, his mask slipping over his face as he strode toward the window.

He turns his head to give you one last glance, before jumping out the window off to where his senses were taking him. . . . . .When he reached the scene, the first thing he saw was chaos. A messed-up road, broken stones, debris everywhere—

And a car on fire.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, scanning the destruction. His gaze caught on something small lying among the rubble.

A Spiderman plushie?

Before he could react, an immense force slammed into him from the side, sending him flying—straight into the wall of a shop.

The impact rattled through Mydei’s ribs as he crashed into the shop’s wall, shattering the glass windows with the sheer force of the throw. Dust and debris clouded his vision, the ringing in his ears a dull reminder that he’d let his guard down. His fingers twitched around the small Spider-Man plushie he had picked up—what the hell was that doing here?

But before he could process it, a deep, guttural laugh rumbled from the cracked road ahead.

"Not so tough now, are ya, Spider?"

Mydei’s sharp golden eyes snapped up, locking onto the massive figure emerging from the wreckage. The guy was built like a wrecking ball—easily over seven feet tall, muscles bulging unnaturally under his torn clothes. His skin had a rough, almost stone-like texture, giving him an armored appearance. His face was twisted in a grin, eyes gleaming with the thrill of destruction.

Super strength. That explained the obliterated street. But Mydei had already noticed something else. The brute’s movements were sluggish—slow to adjust, slow to react. He had power, but speed? Weak.

Mydei cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as he tossed the plushie aside.

“Alright, big guy,” he muttered, voice laced with sharp amusement, “You’re strong. I’ll give you that.” He bent his knees slightly, fingers twitching as he prepared to launch. “But let’s see how well you handle someone who actually knows how to fight.”

The brute snarled and charged, the ground trembling beneath his heavy steps. But Mydei was already moving.

WHIP—

A web shot out, latching onto the crumbling remains of a streetlight. In a heartbeat, Mydei launched himself into the air, narrowly avoiding the devastating punch that cratered the pavement where he had just stood. The mutant’s fist sunk into the concrete, struggling to pull it back out.

“Too slow.” Mydei’s voice rang from above.

The mutant barely had time to look up before Mydei came crashing down with a devastating kick to his jaw. The sheer force sent the brute stumbling back, cracks forming along his hardened skin.

"HRGH—!" The villain spat out something red—blood? A tooth? Who cared.

But Mydei didn’t stop.

He was already moving again, flipping midair, using another web to slingshot himself behind his opponent. Before the brute could react, Mydei landed a flurry of precise, brutal punches—each blow aimed at weak points. The ribs. The back of the knees. The joints. The guy was a tank, sure, but even tanks had weak spots.

The mutant roared in frustration, swinging wildly, trying to catch him. But Mydei was untouchable. Ducking. Weaving. Flipping. His movements were as fluid as water, never in the same place twice.

"You know," Mydei mused, narrowly avoiding a grab attempt, "for someone with that much muscle, you’d think you’d be better at actually landing a hit."

The brute’s eyes burned with rage. "STAND STILL!"

“No thanks.”

With that, Mydei shot a web at the mutant’s face—SPLAT!—effectively blinding him.

The villain roared, clawing at the sticky mess over his eyes. And that’s when Mydei saw his opening.

Launching forward, Mydei twisted midair and delivered a final, devastating roundhouse kick to the side of the mutant’s head. The sheer force sent him flying—his body crashing through a half-destroyed car before finally going still.

For a moment, silence.

Then, a groan. The brute twitched, clearly still conscious but dazed.

Mydei landed smoothly, rolling his shoulders. “You’re still awake? That’s impressive. Too bad it won’t last.”

With practiced ease, he shot out several webs, wrapping the mutant up tight against a broken lamppost. Struggle all he wanted, the brute wasn’t breaking out of that anytime soon.

The sirens were already wailing in the distance. Cops were on their way.

Mydei exhaled, finally relaxing his stance.

Then, he noticed it—the little Spider-Man plushie he had tossed aside earlier, lying near the wreckage.

“…Tch.” Without thinking, he picked it back up, dusting it off. He glanced at the unconscious villain, then at the mess around him.

“…Still gotta get back before she wakes up,” he muttered.

Just as Mydei swung through the city, a sudden, searing bolt of energy shot past him—so close he barely dodged in time. Someone was watching. Someone hidden.

Golden eyes narrowed. Fine. If they wanted to play this game—

He’d find them first.

The cowardly villain was a lanky figure wrapped in tattered cloth, his gaunt face shadowed by a hood. His power? Energy-based projectiles. He hid in the dark, firing shots from afar, never engaging in direct combat. He was weak up close—he knew it, Mydei knew it.

Which was why the villain always ran when things got too heated.

And tonight was no exception. As soon as Mydei got close, the villain turned tail, attempting to flee.

But before he could escape, a flying baseball bat shot through the air at an insane speed, striking him directly in the head with a sickening thud. The villain's body crumpled to the ground instantly.

Mydei's gaze snapped to where the bat had come from, and there you stood, arms crossed, glaring down at him from your apartment window with an expression of pure annoyed fury.

"Dear Spider-Man," you said, voice dripping with passive-aggressive venom, "if you're gonna fight, please try to be quiet and not interrupt people's sleep."

Mydei blinked. Then sighed. Oh god hes fucked . . . . . Mydei landed on your balcony with practiced ease, his mask still in place as he crouched, golden eyes watching you with a mix of guilt and amusement. You were still standing at the window, arms crossed, your glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"I was handling it," he muttered, pulling off his mask.

"Yeah? Well, I handled it faster," you shot back, tilting your chin up. "And now my precious sleep is gone, all thanks to my dear superhero boyfriend who can’t keep it down."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’ll make it up to you."

You raised a skeptical brow. "Oh? How?"

Without another word, Mydei scooped you up effortlessly, pulling you into his arms before stepping inside.

"Mydei—! Put me down, you dramatic bastard, or what do you call phainon? yeah HKS."

He ignored you, carrying you over to the couch and gently setting you down before disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned, holding a warm cup of tea in one hand and your favorite snack in the other.

He placed them on the table in front of you before sitting on the floor down beside you.

"Accept my offering," he murmured against your thighs.

You huffed, trying to hold on to your grumpiness. But between the warmth of the tea, the comfort of his hold, and the way he was resting his on your lap like some overgrown cat, your resolve crumbled.

"...Fine," you grumbled, taking the tea. "But you still owe me for the lost sleep."

Mydei smirked. "I can think of a way." "Shut the fuck up mydei" But then an idea flashed in your mind as you gave him a cheeky smile.

Mydei eyed you suspiciously as you flashed him a devious smile, pulling something from behind your back. His sharp golden eyes narrowed when he saw the fabric in your hands—a pair of matching Hello Kitty pajamas.

"If you want to make it up to me," you cooed, holding up the ridiculously cute pink pajamas, "then put this on."

Mydei's expression went completely blank. He slowly blinked at you, then at the pajamas, then back at you again.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I fight crime in the dead of night, swinging across the city, getting smashed into walls, and dealing with the most annoying villains imaginable—"

"And now you're putting on the Hello Kitty pajamas," you cut him off sweetly, pushing them into his chest.

Mydei sighed, running a hand down his face. He was a realist, a straightforward man who prided himself on logic and practicality. There was no practical reason for him to wear pink Hello Kitty pajamas.

And yet, ten minutes later, there he was.

Standing in your living room.

Wearing them.

And looking absolutely massive in the cutesy, oversized fabric.

You barely held in your laughter, eyes sparkling with mischief as you twirled around in your own matching set.

"This is blackmail material," Mydei muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he towered over you, looking both dead inside and resigned to his fate.

"You look adorable," you chirped, hugging his arm.

He grumbled, ears slightly red, before pulling you into his arms like a hostage.

"If I'm doing this, we're doing this right. Movie day," he declared, dragging you onto the couch.

"Exactly! Now, go order snacks," you said, shoving your phone into his hands.

Mydei gave you a long, unamused stare.

"...You're really milking this, huh?"

"Absolutely."

He exhaled heavily but started placing the order anyway. Because, despite his protests, he was completely wrapped around your finger.

And unfortunately for him?

You knew it.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm

Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time

cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words

You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other. 

The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle. 

James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home? 

“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?” 

You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.” 

James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side. 

“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.” 

You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense. 

“You have pretty hair,” the man says. 

You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.” 

That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him. 

You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair. 

The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run. 

“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice. 

As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension. 

“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate. 

People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop. 

“Let’s get off,” you tell James. 

“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!” 

The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.” 

He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop. 

“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.” 

“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?” 

You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.” 

“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.” 

“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.” 

He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.” 

You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?” 

“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.” 

“How would he do that, James?” 

“Dunno. But just to be safe.”

[inkbyme]

If you’re taking requests, if not that’s fine because I didn’t see a yes or no.

May I please have the MHA guys with a buff reader, preferably afab (assigned female at birth but gender neutral). Like reader is simply jacked and loves working out?

༊*·˚ MHA Characters When Their S/O is Absolutely Ripped ༊*·˚

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya ✧ Katsuki Bakugo ✧ Eijirou Kirishima ✧ Shouta Aizawa ✧ Hanta Sero ✧ Hawks ✧ Tenya Iida ✧ Shoto Todoroki ✧ Denki Kaminari ✧ Present Mic ✧ Neito Monoma

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Strong, bold, and absolutely unstoppable—here’s how MHA boys would handle being in love with someone who could crush them (lovingly).

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Izuku Midoriya

• Absolutely floored. The second he sees you bench press something heavier than All Might’s career, he’s in awe.

• “W-Wait! How much weight was that?! Do you track your macros? What’s your split?!”

• He gets so nerdy about it. Not in a weird way, just pure admiration. You’re basically the embodiment of “smash,” and he’s here for it.

• Tries to work out with you once. You lap him. His arms are shaking. He’s beet red. He writes about you in his notebook under “Physical Prodigy”.

• Lowkey tells everyone “they could totally go pro in hero work with their strength alone.”

• And when he’s holding your hand and feels the muscle flex? Dead. Man. Walking.

⸻

Katsuki Bakugo

• His ego barely survives your first training session.

• “Tch. That was decent form—for a showoff.” He says that while secretly planning to copy your leg day routine.

• He loves it though. No cap. Especially when you lift him up during sparring or piggyback him with zero effort.

• He’s definitely not saying it out loud, but he thinks your power is hot as hell.

• The minute someone underestimates you in battle, Bakugo’s immediately like, “You picked the wrong f**king person.”

• He refuses to let you carry groceries though. “You already carry this relationship, nerd. Lemme do something.”

⸻

Eijirou Kirishima

• INSTANT RESPECT. BRO ENERGY ACTIVATED.

• The moment he sees you bench more than him? He’s yelling, cheering, pumping his fists like a proud gym bro.

• “THAT WAS SO MANLY—Wait, sorry! I mean—UH, STRONG! BADASS! YOU’RE AWESOME!”

• Constantly asks to train together. Wants to be your spotter. Will 100% make you protein shakes.

• Every time you flex, he’s blushing and looking away like “I am NOT simping rn… Okay maybe I am.”

• Loves how strong you are, emotionally and physically. You’re his ideal.

• Keeps bragging about you to others like, “Yeah, my partner can probably lift a truck. No big deal.”

⸻

Shota Aizawa

• Doesn’t react much outwardly—just raises an eyebrow the first time he sees your workout.

• “Huh. Impressive.”

• But trust, he’s noticing everything. How you move, how efficiently you conserve energy, how precise your lifts are.

• Appreciates it because he’s all about practicality. You’re strong and smart about it? Yeah. You’ve got his attention.

• Silently proud when you disable a villain in one move. Leans over and mumbles, “Remind me not to piss you off.”

• He lets you take point during missions more often than not. It’s his quiet way of saying, “I trust you.”

⸻

Hanta Sero

• Bro is SHOOK the first time he sees you lift something twice your size like it’s nothing.

• He immediately blurts, “Okay, wait—are you secretly a pro wrestler or…?”

• Sero’s super chill and goofy, but there’s this lowkey admiration in the way he watches you train.

• Always cracking jokes like “Guess I’m the one getting carried in this relationship—literally.”

• But behind the laughs? He genuinely loves how capable and powerful you are.

• Gets extra protective when people make dumb comments like “Shouldn’t you be less muscular?”—nah, he’s instantly stepping in.

• “Don’t talk to them like that. They could fold you, and honestly, I’d let them.”

⸻

Hawks

• Tries to act like he’s chill about it, but the second he sees you pick up a villain and slam them like a sack of potatoes? He’s swooning.

• “You ever consider hero work full time? I could recommend you, y’know. Perks include looking fine while saving the world.”

• Loves that you’re strong enough to toss him around—jokes about it constantly.

• “Hey, if you ever wanna throw me across a room for fun, I’m down. No safe word needed.”

• Total flirt about it, but underneath? He’s genuinely impressed and obsessed with how capable you are.

• Will absolutely brag about you during interviews without naming you directly. “Strongest person I know? Yeah, I sleep next to ‘em.”

⸻

Tenya Iida

• Buff reader? He is shooketh. Immediately launches into admiration mode.

• “Your physique is incredible! Do you follow a specific regimen? Is it Quirk-enhanced or pure effort?!”

• Probably starts working out more just to keep up. “As your partner, I must strive to match your level of excellence!”

• Gets a little flustered when you carry him bridal-style—like, his glasses fog up.

• Deeply respects your discipline. Like, seriously. He sees it as heroic in itself.

• He’s always offering to assist in your routine—hydration checks, cooldown stretches, structured meal planning. Boy treats you like a top-tier athlete.

⸻

Shoto Todoroki

• Blinks. Quietly processes.

• “You’re very strong.” And he says it so sincerely it makes your brain short-circuit.

• Offers to spot you during workouts even though you clearly don’t need it. He just wants an excuse to be close.

• Gets kind of hypnotized watching you train—especially if your form is flawless.

• When someone questions if you’re “too bulky,” he calmly says, “Their strength keeps them alive. That’s beautiful.”

• Your strength makes him feel safer. You’re the only person he doesn’t try to shield in battle—because he knows you don’t need it.

⸻

Denki Kaminari

• Full-on jaw drop. He’s short-circuiting from how cool and attractive you are.

• “WAIT—YOU’RE BUILT BUILT??” followed by him poking your biceps and whispering, “…hot.”

• Denki is the biggest hype-man. He’s taking gym selfies with you flexing in the background like, “LOOK AT MY PARTNER THOUGH!”

• Asks if you can lift him like a princess. When you do, he screams and blushes at the same time.

• Super supportive and genuinely loves working out with you, even if he’s nowhere near your level.

• He’ll jokingly ask you to open jars for him, but it’s also 20% serious.

⸻

Present Mic

• OH HE’S OBSESSED.

• “YEEEOOOOHHH, LOOK AT THOSE GAINS!!” This man is LOUD with his admiration.

• Makes gym playlists just for you. Hypes you up so much while you’re working out that people stare.

• Thinks you’re the most badass human alive and tells everyone. “My partner could deadlift YOU, Aizawa—just sayin’!”

• Absolutely down for couples workouts. Posts on his social media like: “Power couple energy? ACHIEVED!!”

• But on a real note—he respects the discipline and strength behind the muscles. Deep down, he loves how passionate and driven you are.

⸻

Monoma

• OH. HE’S SO JEALOUS AT FIRST.

• “Tch. Of course you’re unnaturally strong. Probably from showing off too much.”

• But after sparring with you and getting absolutely humbled? His tune changes.

• Secretly adores your strength and talks about you constantly to Class 1-B—just pretends it’s complaints.

• “It’s not like I LIKE that they can carry me bridal style! But if I did, it wouldn’t be your business.”

• Gets real flustered when you help him train. Can’t handle how cool you look while lifting.

• “Y-You should tone it down. Or don’t. I mean—ugh. Shut up.”

Apologies for the delay! University exams are having me fighting for my life, but your request never left my mind. Thank you for your patience.

Let me know if you have any feedback or if there’s any warnings I need to put on my post. I am always open for requests as long as I know the characters! I hope you enjoyed reading this!

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐇𝐦?

Lando Norris x reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Smut

Notes: This was really fun to write but something completely different from what I usually do and probs not as rough as the request maybe sounded but hope it's fine! Thank you for the request! Also I have cero knowledge about frat-life or anything like it but I tried! I literally had to google the term frat :) I'm on a Lando stint rn apparently, third fic in a row so I hope you all like Lando :D

Request: Could you do super cocky frat Lando? Y/N dosen't like him cuz of his attiude. But after lots & lots of flirting, she starts giving in to his charms (and hotness). He's a bit narcissistic, so when he knows she's in the palm of his hand, he has her undress him, asking her how much she likes his muscles, and then he has her get on her knees and kiss him through his underwear, and then he pushes his c*ock down her throat until she has tears in her eyes, and he's smirking and boasting non-stop. Ahhh!

The first time you laid eyes on him was in art class.

He had been sitting up front, dangling his feet in the air whilst playing with his pen on the tree-desk. Something you found so incredibly annoying as the thumping sound never seemed to stop.

His face held a cocky little smirk and despite his obvious good looks which you couldn't deny you disliked him from first sight.

His brown curls dripped into his eyes and his well shaped face eased into a grin as he talked with his friend. Fuck he was pretty.

As time went you saw him more and more often. It was like everywhere you were, he was. You learned his name was Lando, the same age as you and you also learned that your gut feeling had been completely right. Because Lando was not for the weak, he was cocky, bratty, straight forward and thought he was a celebrity along the halls. Arrogant was what he was.

For some reason though he had set his sights on you, why? You had no idea but at every party, every break, every art class, he was there. Trying to flirt his ways into your bed. Maybe it was just the fact that you weren't falling for your knees for him, maybe it was the need to get what he wanted or it was just pure arrogance, but he never gave up.

He was used to getting who he wanted and you couldn't judge, you guessed he was pretty attractive and also pretty charming when he tried but still. He was Lando, the arrogant, cocky guy who was known for sleeping around and getting his way. It was not qualities you were looking for in a man, not even one to only sleep with.

Lando was persistent though, you had to give him that and regardless of how much you hated to admit it he got under your skin. His sweet words of praise, compliments and small not so innocent touches made your heart stutter and heat crawling up your skin.

For every day that went the more you realized how fucking good he looked. His eyes and face so innocent in a way but still so not in other ways.

His body, fuck his body was perfect. Eyes not able to ignore the way his arms flexed or the times he was wearing that stupid t-shirt that made his abs show through the thin fabric. You hated him on those days.

This was one of those days and as every other day so far Lando threw himself down in the seat next to you. Eyes raking your tired outfit for the day.

"How are you beutiful"

"Hello Lando, I'm good thank you" you answered casually. It was weird how this had almost started to become like a routine now, you got used to his company.

"No how are you? Pft Y/n! I thought you were raised well!" Lando spoke teasingly, fingers softly tickling your waist as your eyes rolled. "My deepest apologies Lando, how are you my prince?" "Ohoo here we go, that's better. I'm good thank you very much my princess"

Your eyes rolled again but you couldn't help the heat you felt spreading up your face as a giggle left your lips. Fuck.

"Are you gonna come to the party at friday?" he asked then, looking you straight into the eyes telling you this was an honest question. "Yeah I think so, why?"

"No no, no reason just wanted to ask so I know where to have my focus"

"Oh how charming you are" you huffed but Lando only shrugged "You know I'm popular baby" he spoke teasingly, smirking as you turned your focus away from him.

"You are so pretty baby" he hummed, the line making you grumble to him but you couldn't helpt but to feel the pet-name stirring something deep within you.

You didn't want him to affect you the way he did, you loathed him. Had always done. The way he snapped his fingers and got the things he wanted. The way he acted around, like he was the king of the world and everyone had to adjust and accept his ways. You loathed him, you told yourself, repeating all the reasons over and over to not forget them.

"Sure Lando" you murmured, gently pushing him away from you with an eyeroll. He only sniggered, that smirk that made your skin prickle making it's way onto his face.

"Is that so darling?" he chuckled, placing a hot hand on your hip. By the looks of it to walk past you but you knew it was only another way for him to show his dominance to you, show how much he actually affeccted you despite your tries to hide it.

"How long are you going to deny it hm?" he said lowly, his head bowing to reach your ear-level and it only made him grow cockier, feel more dominance.

"Deny what exactly? That you are a jerk? A jackass?"

Lando chuckled, finding your words more amusing than hurtful as he found your eyes. The colour in them shining with delight and competition.

"Deny that you somewhat find me attractive" he said lowly, watching your eyes blink shut, trying to shut out the hot feeling developing in your core. "I will stop denying it when you stop being such a jerk" you countered, a smirk making it's way to your lips as well as you felt the confidence surge back to you.

At that you left him, blinking sweetly at him before rounding him with an hot hand on his shoulder.

-

It wasn't even an hour until he was next to you again, his hand snaking it's way to your waist as he leaned in to talk directly in your ear. Something that made you all hot and bothered, it had no right to be so hot.

"Why are you acting so hard to get baby? I know you think i'm attractive"

"Attractive sure but I still find you a jackass"

"Hmm I don't think so sweetie"

"You think you know what I want better than I know myself?" you spoke softly looking at him with an innocent flutter of your eyes.

"I know you want me baby, you can't hide how flustered you get when I call you baby or how your eyes grow all wide when I say something dirty to you"

When you said nothing he continued talking again. Voice an octavle lower than before, his breath fanning the side of your face making it even hotter.

"I can't stop thinking about you baby, I don't know why but I can't. I want you, so bad"

Cheesy, the line was cheesy but you still felt the words make you crumble. Slowly but surely giving into him, because afterall, he was so hot.

Lando saw it to, the grin on his face only getting bigger as he continued, knowing that you would soon be eating out of his palm, just like he wanted but at this stage you didn't care. The man was a fucking flirt and he could flirt his ways into people's bed, yours included.

"Yeah? You like this baby, don't you? Picture your cute little mouth stretched around my cock, your sweet sounds as I make you feel good after I've come down your throat"

You felt heat pour into your stomach, all the way through your veins, building up slowly but steadily until it was all-consuming.

Fuck he was good

"You like that hm? I'm gonna have you so lost for me baby, sucking my cock like the good girl you are. Gonna have you undress me and ask for it, would you do that for me?"

You could practically feel the shit eating grin on his lips as you let out a small huff, dangerously close to a moan as you grumbled on your breath.

"Fuck Lando, how are you so good at this? Have you practiced this before?"

Lando laughed at that, his hand on your waist squeezing slightly harder as he hummed. "No, you are my motivation" "Oh gosh that's so cheesy but it still makes me fucking wet" you groaned in his ear, the words making him hum.

"Bet you taste fucking amazing" he mumbled and that was it, you crumbled.

"You gonna do as I say hm?"

You swallowed thickly, he knew all to well how he made you feel, feeding of of it but you couldn't deny it either, couldn't deny him. So you nodded, giving in to your pride for this moment and giving him the power he knew he had over you.

"What was that? Need your words baby"

"Yes" you almost whispered out, his smile big and cocky regardless.

"Yeah? Then undress me sweetie"

It took a moment for you to register his words but when you did you immideately reached for his shoulders. You gently squeezed his shoulders before letting your hands trail down his chest to the zipper of his hoodie.

"Come on baby, get on with it" he smirked, voice rougher than usual as his eyes pinned you down, gleaming with cockiness and victory.

You gently pulled his sweater off before letting your hands run under his white t-shirt. Feeling his muscles tense under your palms as you pulled it over his head.

He was so stunning you couldn't stop staring at him. Everything was just.. yum.

You stood infront of him, eyes fleeting over his toned torso, only feeding his ego and smirk.

"You like what you see hm?" he teased, gently grabbing your hands to settle on his muscular arms. Saliva gathered up in your mouth, swallowing thickly you let your hands slide down his arms and then up again. Your hands moved on instinct, coming up to his shoulders before sliding down his stomach.

"Tell me how much you like them huh? Tell me how much you like my muscles"

"So much, look so good Lan" you hummed, not being able to resist to let your hands wander over his body once more before settling them on his waistband.

"Go on, take them off" he nodded, watching you as your shaky fingers unbottoned the button of his jeans before helping him out of them.

Lando looked at you for a moment, seeming to think over his next move.

"Get on your knees baby"

You fell to your knees before you could even think it through properly, why? You couldn't answer that but all you knew was that for Lando, you wanted to do whatever he said, wanted to please him and his desires.

"Good, come on baby, kiss it" he prompted you, strong hands finding the back of your head and gently nudging your face to his boxer clad cock, straining hard inside the fabric.

You did what he asked, gently leaning forward to kiss him over the material. Your lips softly touching over the visable print of his hard dick, looking up at the Brit's face which looked taken over with lust and cockiness

"Look at you baby, doing everything I ask hm?"

"So gone for me already pretty girl?"

You could only hum, kissing up and down his dick once more before he hooked his fingers under the band, pulling his boxers down swiftly.

"Gonna let me fuck your little mouth princess?" You could no longer find your words, nodding desperately. All the various nicknames making you feel all dizzy and wetter then ever.

You leaned in kissing his dick again but this time without the fabric in the way, basking in the sound he let out before his hands tangled in your hair, not letting you ease into it at all but coaxing your mouth open with one hand before pressing his cock into your open mouth.

You did your best to stop your gagging, breathing through your nose as he set a brutal pace.

"You like that huh?" he smirked at you, not bothering letting you answer, looking into your eyes was answer enough. "Like having my cock down your throat hm?"

"Fuck y/n, taking it so good" he groaned, eyes never leaving yours, loving the way they were tearing up.

You tried your best to keep your mouth open without choking on his dick, marveling in the sounds he let slip past his throat but it was a struggle when he kept his relentless pace up, not letting you paus unless you tapped out.

You blinked through the tears trying to focus on your breathing but it became too hard, instinctively you tried to pull your head back but his grip was strong, keeping you seated until you tapped his thigh, depserate for some air.

He let you up immideately, watching you closely as you panted hard, trying to get your lungs filled with air, calming down your breathing slowly

"You okay baby?" he asked softly, his hand gently rubbing your cheek as you nodded "Yes yes, sorrry"

He shook his head firmly "don't apologise", at that you hummed, locking eyes with him, feeling your insides melt as his sweet eyes looked at you with such care and lust.

When you felt fine you leant forward again, licking a bold stripe from the base up to the tip, letting your tongue lap up the small droplets of pre-cum before opening your mouth, inviting him in once again.

"Fuck, look at you baby" he groaned "Like being used like this hm?"

You couldn't asnwer coherently, just gagged on his cock in response but he seemed to like it enough by the long groan he let out. His head had tipped back and his arms flexed as he held your head steadily.

"Fuck Y/n"

You tried to be at your best behaviour, Lando pulling that out of you. Swallowing around his dick, breathing through your nose and letting him use your mouth. Focusing on the salty taste on your tongue and the proper fucked out look on his face. Arms flexing, face twisting and abs clenching as he got closer and closer to his release.

Fuck he was a sight.

You felt his hips stutter as he fucked into your mouth a few more times before letting your head up.

You looked up at him softly, eyes swam over with tears and saliva dripping down your chin, gasping a few moutfull's of air before you sank down on his dick again, feling his dick twitch in your throat. Apparently he liked your fucked out look.

You had never ever enjoyed giving head as much as you did now, watching his mouth hang open and thighs shaking slightly. His hands came back to the back of your head, holding you deep as he came with a long groan.

He fucked up a few more times grunting words you couldn't understand, voice holding a tinge of despearation as he emptied all he had in your open mouth.

His eyes that had drooped closed open slowly watching your lips as he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop.

Eyes almost hazing over as you swallowed, licking your lips as you blinked up innocently at him, he was just as effected by you as you were by him.

A wry smile made it's way up your face at the realization, looking at his fucked out face before speaking up in a sweet soft voice that made his softening cock want to harden again.

"As good as you imagined then baby?"

[god-has-entered-my-body]

lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think

dont be shy pass the spliff

also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x

Love me - Matty Healy

A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx

wc: 4.5k

content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty

“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George. 

His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.

“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short. 

“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.”

“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.

Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch. 

It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him? 

Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table. 

“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.

“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events. 

“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.” 

“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated. 

“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes. 

The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer. 

“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust. 

“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint. 

Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.  

George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.  

“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.

“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange. 

“It’s alright love, look all you want.” 

“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.

You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side. 

“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.

“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.  

“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.  

“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.

“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not.”

He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?

“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time. “He won't mind, just look at him.” 

Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking. 

“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”

She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.   

“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to. 

“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.” 

Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place. 

He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.

The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty. 

A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you. 

“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.

“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.

“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.

“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably. 

“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.

“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him. “Mood for what?”

“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair. “That's rich.” 

“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you. 

“We both know I can't deny you.” 

“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact. 

“Watch.” 

“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.

“Me, keep your eyes on me.”

He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction. 

Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure. 

“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.

“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty. 

“Show?”

He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself. 

“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.

“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.  

“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.

“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you. 

“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably. 

“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself. 

“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level. 

You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation. 

“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.

“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.

“According to whom?” 

“You.”

You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.

“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy. 

“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”

He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty. 

“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck. “Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him. 

“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand. 

You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.

It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear. 

He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though. 

“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.

“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them. “So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.

The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.

He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful. 

“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest. “You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection. 

“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him. 

“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?

“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.  

“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.

“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.  

“Anything for you.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm.”

You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him. 

“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.

“Please.”

You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment. 

Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath. 

“Let go for me, feel it.”

He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on. 

“Fuckk, that feels so good–” 

Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased. 

“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”

He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body 

The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter. 

“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.  

“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted. 

“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”

You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair. 

“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. 

“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.

His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.

“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating. 

“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”

He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.

“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory. 

“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver

“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.

“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”

Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.

His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs. 

Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love 

“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.

“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging. 

“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.” 

George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had 

“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.  

“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)

“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass. 

“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement. 

“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.

“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face. “Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on. “GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified. 

George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee. 

“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.

“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her. 

As he walks away, Ross sniggers.

“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”

With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.

[joelsbeard]

pre-outbreak!joel when you're pregnant ❤️ part 3

These are extra fluffy and spicy lol, enjoy!!

You buy a pregnancy pillow bc you're just so sore all the time! and find it so hard to sleep, but you end up using it only half of the time, the other half you use joel as your pregnancy pillow hehe. You lay on your side and throw your leg over his hip and rest your belly on joel's torso while he holds you and massages your lower back with one arm. He loves that you use him as your pregnancy pillow bc he can immediately feel when the baby kicks and he can rest his hand on your stomach ❤️ You wake up or go to sleep hearing him talk and sing to the baby 🥺

Shopping with you isn't his favorite since a lot of the time it's you looking around at stuff while he just waits for you and holds your bags lol, but he loves going shopping with you to get things for the baby 🥺 you still are of course much more enthusiastic, always pointing out the cutest little toys and blankets and clothes (you're like "baby please we have to buy this for her!!🥺" and its a little bib that says "mommy loves me" 🥺) but also bc his papa bear instincts are already kicking in and he wants to make sure you buy the best, safest, and sturdiest carrier, stroller, etc.

Speaking of which, with his contractor background he does build a few things for the baby 🥺 He builds the most beautiful crib and rocking chair, and surprises you with it once he's finished. You had no idea he was building the crib, so you were really confused when he would be so nonchalant when you were at the store looking for one, but you figured all the stuff in the garage or work shed was just materials for the rocking chair. You cry when you see he built a crib for your baby 🥺 (you fuck him right then and there lol you LOVE your man and you're so happy he's the father of your baby)

Sometimes he has to make sure you don't go too overboard with buying too much baby stuff (its so hard, everything is so cute!!) and he just reminds you that you can add it to your baby shower registry

He is the sweetest man ever, and always gives you massages for your sore muscles and swollen feet (and once he massages all the soreness out of you he fucks you because 1. how could he not 2. he's just "making sure you feel extra good" LOL)

During your second trimester he is MORE than happy to dick you down when you're feeling horny, and since your initial nausea and morning sickness have subsided you are now just horny 24/7, and you fuck like a million times a day lol. Every time you're like "🥺 babyyy I'm horny :( take off your clothes like rn" LOL he's like "awww does my baby want sex :(" then he rips his shirt off and immediately manhandles you (without hurting you or the baby ofc) onto the nearest surface lol and later in your pregnancy when you're more uncomfortable he'll make sure to hold you up or put you on the bed or something so you can enjoy it as much as possible hehe.

One time he's like "I hope the baby is okay with all of our... increased physical activity LOL and I hope I'm not hurting her" and you're like "😭 baby i'm sure its fine lol, the doctor said it was okay and it helps me feel better" and he goes "yeah but still if i think about it sometimes it is kinda weird, wouldn't wanna poke her or anything" HAHA but you say "well she'll have to deal with it it's how she got here in the first place, and if its too uncomfortable for me I'll stop" and yes he fucks you afterwards ❤️

He goes crazy with how big your tits get, you always catch him looking at your tits and you're like 🙄 "babeee" and he's like "what, can a man not look at his girl's tiddies? I can't help it, the girls are looking great" LMAOO which of course you can't deny, you've been taking more ✨spicy✨ pics of yourself before you started showing since your boobs really did look amazing lol. He's definitely gotten more obsessed with how big they've gotten during sex, and he's always squeezing them or spending time kissing them even more than he usually does lol. He's just like "god I love these tits so much🤤" and you're like "yeah well remember these are for our daughter!!" "fair enough but these were mine first okay" ( men 🙄)

You decorate the baby's room together 🥺 he thought about surprising you entirely and doing it all himself, but he decided it would be more special and a good bonding activity for the two of you to decorate it together ❤️ You of course plan it all together, but he takes care of the actual heavy lifting with moving the furniture and painting (he doesn't want you breathing it in since you're pregnant) and you have a fun time assembling some of the easy stuff together lol.

Your favorite part is finally getting to hang up all the adorable outfits and onesies, and putting the little socks and headbands in the drawers. You buy a good amount of baby books so you can both read to her.

Tommy gives you the onesie and bib ⬇️ at your baby shower LMAO

The bib is hilarious, and you do end up actually using that onesie sometimes when all her other laundry is dirty 😭 every time joel sees the baby wearing it he either sighs or goes "can't argue with that" LMAOO

[onionstree]

TONIIIIIIIIIII (+ new lore)

please dear god tumblr do NOT crunch the quality on this

LORE UNDER CUT WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

OKAY i finally made up my mind on Toni (he/him) lore!!

Toni used to be a maid in da tower, he's made of dough and cheese. He cleans n whatever, would frequently bug Pepperman to draw his "ideal" body for him. He was completely obsessed with the macho aesthetic and was miserable he looked nothing like how he felt on the inside. He was a big guy in his head!!

So he bails to hide in the deepest corners of the basement and meticulously craft himself into his ideal self. His body is pretty moldable! Though he needed more mass to gain all that height and muscle. So he'd yoink any cheese slimes that made the mistake of crossing his path.

He's not an 'official' tower boss by any means. Pizza Head doesn't even realize Toni's down there, and the other bosses aren't really aware he transitioned. He IS however VERY curious about this Peppino guy storming through the tower... a worthy opponent to test if his body's ready for debut!!

ANYWAY uh Peppino kicks his ass or whatever. He's absolutely enamored by the weird italian guy. Thinks he's the peak of masculinity and refuses to stop following him around. Eventually bags a job at Peppino's since he's kinda homeless what with the tower, uh, collapsing. You know how it goes.

I like to think for the other bosses Toni would only really get along well with Pepperman, both pre- and post- transition. While he's not the brightest Toni does admire Pepperman's art. Plus he was pretty much the only person in the tower Toni felt comfortable talking about his ideal self with. I think Vigilante wouldn't like how loud he is, and Noise would either just get him riled up or he'd be too thickheaded to be fun to prank. I don't know how Fake Peppino would feel about him... I don't think FP would like how he smells. But otherwise it might be okay.

Peppino helps Toni be more vulnerable!! Toni feels a constant pressure to extrude this macho energy, the loudest and most violent person in the room. Peppino helps Toni see he can be just as much a man without having to be so aggressive. He can lean on others too. (-:

That last bit is me projecting I need a Peppino in my life to do that for me PLEASE

pre-tran toni is me rn this shit SUCKS wish i could just mold my body like he does... augh. he's less a self-insert and more like wish fulfillment for me

[bhuerracus]

GW2 OCs Masterpost

these are all my blorbos as of rn... there's more but these are the ones in-game :3

Name: Lugor the Unsightly Age: ~60 Bio: Former control freak Iron Legion Legionnaire (bottom pics), now Mentally Stable (with an asterisk) old man Soldier of the Dream warband. Atoning for his many, many crimes. Very extroverted, flirty, loves to chat and be weird. Sensitive, retreats into solitude when necessary. Cries reading Snargle books because they are so emotional and romantic. Quite chubby / fat but no body sliders so you know. An upbeat but traumatized old man.

More under the cut:

Name: Magnus Bonecracker Age: ~50 Bio: Former Blood Legion Centurion, mentee of Bangar before fleeing. With the help of Ash Legion, him and his warband ran operations to undermine his power. After Crecia became imperator, he was reinstated as a Primus. His fahrar exclusively took in disabled / sick cubs, and he loves them all dearly to this day and is watching them grow into strong, proud Blood Legion soldiers. Now he is retired and living out his wild side. Drill sergeant. A huge wall of muscle. Will tell you all about his cubs, both the ones he's had and the ones from his fahrar, and you'd better listen. No nonsense allowed.

Name: Vanard the Mad Age: ~70 Bio: Born and raised in the Priory. Kicked out because "the fuckers hate [him]", though official word is it's because of his lack of care, results, and socializing skills. Obsessed with making potions, though the skill at which he can do so is dubious. Carries are large bag full of all sorts of vials and liquids. In massive amounts of debt due to unwise spending, so he bums wherever he can to get away from them. The goggles stay on.

Name: Renwick Dreamguard Age: ~40 Bio: Ash Legion Mesmer with a specialty in Chronomancy. Legionnaire of the Dream warband. Insomniac. Obsessed with the concept of dreams, enjoys peering in and toying with people's dreams during his sleepless nights. Blood Legion "weeaboo", thinks Rytlock is the coolest guy ever and would love to meet him. Always tired due to insomnia, rarely seems up for much of anything. High sense of justice and will stop at nothing to ensure justice is served at times, especially if his specialty can be of assistance. Therapist, or whatever you'd call the Charr equivalent of one. His "clients" say he's a calming presence due to his low energy. A bit shy, easily flustered if flirted with.

[blingblong55]

Tap Out-Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Based on a request:

Heyyy there👀 So, it's been a while since I started following you but, your one shots are FUCKING AMAZING!!😭😂

Anyway, I just wanted to ask you, if it's okay would you please right a one shot or anything about Ghost who does material arts(boxing) with reader?! or F1 driver Ghost?! Thanks🥲💖 (It doesn't matter if it's smut or fluff I just really like your writings. by the way sorry if it sounds weird, just first time requesting in tumblr😭🤦🏻‍♀️)

A/N: I'll be doing boxing first because like...I need boxer bf Ghost rn F1 driver Ghost deserves smut tbh...

F!reader, fluff, boxer!Ghost, boxing au, established!relationship, jealous!Ghost

Simon was not one to keep relationships, that everyone knows but when you and him met, that was when he knew his life would change. You two were complete opposites and that is what complimented the relationship. It is midnight rain and you the sunshine.

He was never one to show off to prove his skills but when you showed up at the gym to watch him train, best believe he was flexing his muscles, showing off what he can do in the ring. His mates knew best, a pretty woman like you with a tall and broad man like him? Yeah, it was meant to happen. He wanted you one way or another and he was going to prove he could be more than just a boxer, he is a lover and a big softie, but that is only for you.

As time passed and the more dates you two ended up going on, he finally dared to ask you to be his girl or as he put it, "Be my number one fan, c'mon baby, what do you say?" The smile you gave him after his question proved you were already his, to begin with. During and after practice, you were on his mind. You had become the motive for him to continue to fight.

As he was about to walk out into the public and to the ring, he saw on the room's TV his best girl. Wearing his chain and a small sign to support him, this alone brought a smile to his face. Yeah, he was dedicating this win to you. He is cocky but for a good reason. He was named one of the best boxers in all of Manchester and possibly the entire country. The scars that littered his body from years of boxing were now worn proudly by him, this was after you kissed them all one night, to prove to him he was no freak for how many he had. The tattoos he still had marker residue on from the night before, where you painted on them, trying to memorise them all as if they were your own. He kisses the tattoo where you last touched, his forearm proudly has the red lipstick smudged there.

Why did he know he was going to win against an amazing boxer like his opponent? Easy, bastard was flirting with you and though he never shows his jealousy when you're around or ever, in the ring that is where all the urges to punch him would come in. You were his to love and hold, no one else's.

The two touched gloves and the match began, you rooted for him, called him cute nicknames and cheered when you knew the punch would get him points. Before this, you didn't know a thing about boxing and saw it as something too violent and stupid. The way he softly spoke to you when speaking of his profession, the way his hands touched yours and taught you to fight, that is what had you so hooked on this sport. Your favourite boxer, yours and yours alone. After an impeccable last round, he won.

During break, he had seen how his opponent had winked at you and that was enough for him to fuel up the need to put that mediocre of a man in his place. Simon was cheered on after being granted the belt but in the crowd of fake friends and crew, he looked for you. The one person who for years now has been by his side, his shoulder to cry on and the only woman he loves, you. You smile when you notice he is looking for you in the crowd. "Simon!" you waved and his face lit up. He ran off the ring and to you, he lifted you as if you were feathers, "Baby, we did it!"

That was his thing, he never took full credit for anything, always thanked his crew but before them came you, his number one girl. If the man would've even touched you most slightly, Simon would have made sure to make that man tap out and beg for an ambulance. You kiss him despite the blood and sweat on his face. Never grossed out by it because, at the end of the day, your big softie had won.

Was he jealous that his opponent had been with his girlfriend? Yes and no. For one, he knows you are more than loyal and are in more than in love with him. What was it then? The fact that, that man was a womaniser and you as his girlfriend do not deserve to be sexualised by anyone, expect him when you wear that dress he bends you over to.

After everyone was gone, you and he stayed behind in the locker room. Hands intertwined, is bruised knuckled being caressed by your delicate hands. "I love you, Simon." He let out a soft chuckle, a red hue on his face as if it was the first time you told him this. He looks away blushing, You always had a way to make a tough boxer like him turn into a huge softie. He was melted away by how delicate and how soft your words always were.

Your hands cupping his bruised face, "You won and I know for sure that last punch carried more than you let on." That was your thing, always seeing past what others never acknowledged. This is what made you two perfect for each other. Your hands caressing his face, his eyes big like a lovesick fool. His face leans more to your touch, "I love you too, R/N." he softly speaks. That tough boxer is now gone, replaced by your precious boyfriend, Simon

tags: @thisuserisaninfpgirl

A/N: I'll make sure to write that F1 smut soon:)

[girldriveroscar]

ok i know it can get into weird territory talking about drivers’ bodies so feel free to like. not. but i sometimes wonder for the sake of wondering how oscah would be built if he wasn’t racing in f1. the slightly meatier version. or if he was just kind of. regular guy who also works out for functional fitness kinda thing. idk. would be hot in any way

tagging cw body image cus its potentially weird yes you're right. this is my bread and butter. my spinach an artichoke dip. hey. lets order apps for the table...apps for the table? anyone??

formula one drivers r so Specifically fucking restricted to twunk builds its like. Deeply unserious to me. got another ask about this so I'll try and actually answer w proficiency to that in a bit but rn.

hm.... just thinking about workout porn mmmmm..... there is something sooooo sexy about being pumped full of t and flexing and sweating an grunting and moaning about pushing ur body to its physical limit. right right. spotting that's a Little too close for comfort and Definitely more about getting a Whole Whiff of someones inner thighs and pits hey Hey... heyhheyhehyehy....

no ok locking back in. I wannttt I want to see Oscar who doesn't eat like a fuckin Victorias secret model So Dearly Badly. like a big thing about working out ur ass is that Actually having like a phat ass is less to do w muscle its about just having Fat On Your Ass. and Boy does he have the fucking bbl genetics to have an even fatter ass.

if he did actually work his glutes too like lower volume higher weight I think he wld actually be in like. Guy With Embarrassing Amount of Shelf territory. I mean hes alrdy nearing that and hes fs not repping his max yk so. idk. analyzing his ass potential man what the fuck am I doing. I also just think like. he has such the right build for a guy who could be soft around the edges but Really Reallllly fucking strong. like he could easily bulk upough kinda peak...

shaking my fist at the sky damn u sport that prioritizes high muscle mass low body fat dam you. I also lowk think it's so not that srs but that is me being a bitch and thinking these millionaires lives are so much more comfortable than they make it out to be. oh No. somebody makes me three protein rich meals a day woe is you bro. order the fuckin pizza you weirdo

that's to say. I really don't think a lot of the drivers are prioritizing muscle mass to bf ratio like they..Maybe Could... bc I think.. its really not that vital to performance.. ill put that tangent in the Thinkpost tho

[b4tteryaciid]

~3k Words

Was thinking about making a whole fic out of this but I'm honestly not sure if I would enjoy it very much. Lmk what yall think about it. This was supposed to be the first chapter. It's a body swap type AU and I'm not too sure where I wanna go with it rn.

Sorry if the paragraphs are weird I copy pasted this from my notes app and Tumblr ate my paragraphs so I had to separate them before I posted it.

The first 4 chapter were supposed to be this but from everyone else's POV before they actually start trying to solve the problem but I'm lazy and illiterate and idk if I want to write allat. So anyways! Here ya go

The bed was nice and warm, Gaz was laid out on his side pooled under thick blankets and cradling a pillow in his arms. He hadn't been woken up by his alarm so he didn't dare open his eyes and kick the final lick of sleep away from him. He shifted and urged himself back to sleep until he felt a shift, not from him. He heard a groan from next to him and the pillow he was holding moved, arms were wrapped around his torso and he felt the press of someone's head on his chest. His eyes shot open in a panic. Someone was in his bed, holding onto him, and, wait, he was holding onto them too? What the hell? He tried to decipher who the hell was in his bed, in his room but it was too dark to make out much. He shuffled back and carefully pushed the person off of him. He couldn't remeber bringing anyone to bed with him, had he gotten drunk and brought a fling home? He couldn't have, he was on base wasn't he? The person huffed and shifted back into the pillow and he could see their face clearer. The blanket was pooled around their waist and he could see their broad chest, their face was smushed into the pillow and their hair was chopped into a Mohawk, it stuck up at all angles and flopped down onto their forehead. Wait. Mohawk? Holy fuck Soap? Oh no. Did he get drunk and fuck Soap? Why the hell were they sleeping together? He looked around the room and realized it wasn't his. It wasn't Soap's either for that matter.

He hastily pulled his too-heavy limbs out from under the snooring scott and stumbled out of bed. What the hell was going on? Why did his limbs feel so bulky and heavy? He looked around the room to quickly locate the bathroom and hobbled towards it. He looked down as he walked and noticed he was barefoot, but his skin was significantly lighter than usual. The ambled through the passageway into the backroom and smashed his palm onto the light switch, it landed way harder than he intended it to. The lights flicked on and he was face to face with a huge man, his eyes bored into him and he was adorned with a black mask with a skull painted onto it. He stumbled back with a shriek, grasping at his face and getting a hand full of rough fabric. He looked down at himself and was greeted by an expanse of paled white skin covered in a mass of deep pink scarring. He was covered in rippling muscles and was only covered with thin black boxers that barely left anything to the imagination. He had a significant bulge and a line of thick blonde hair that trailed from his belly down under the thick waistband.

He heard a groan from behind him and footsteps. He swivled around and got a face full of Soap. He glanced down at him, and realized he was stark naked. "God Soap put some fuckin' clothes on would'ya!?" He covered his face with his hands and realized his voice came out way deeper than he was used to. "Ghost?" He uncovered his eyes and shot Soap a questioning look. He turned around and took a step towards the mirror. Gaz reached up and ran his hands over this face, he looked at himself, or, rather, Ghost in the mirror as he felt his fingers running down his balaclava. He carefully pulled at his eyes with his fingers and looked down at his hands as he flexed them. Thick scars ran along his knuckles and there were smaller ones on his wrists and forearms. "What the fuck? Why the hell am I Ghost?" He was certain he wasn't dreaming. He could feel everything clear as day and it was tripping him up. "Not sure, why the hell am I Soap?" He hadn't even noticed the man walk up besides him. He was also feeling his face and was running his fingers through the mohawk. "Not sure why im naked though"

"Yes, please put some fucking pants on" What the fuck was going on? Why was he in Ghost's body? Why were Ghost and Soap sleeping together and naked? Yanno, he didn't want to know, he could imagine and that was already horrible. He would need intensive therapy to get the image of his Lieutenant and best friend banging out of his brain. It was even worse that he woke up cuddled up with Soap while he was naked. Wait. What was it that Soap had just said? Something about why he was Soap? He turned and stepped out of the room as Soap was digging around in a big closet. He finally had pants on this time so that was nice. "What the hell is going on?" He asked, his voice was still deep and it shocked him. It was unnatural. All of this was shocking and unnatural. "Not sure, just know they're gonna get a piece of my mind for this." Soap didn't have his usual strong accent and it was throwing Gaz off immensely. He still had an accent of course but it was easier to understand without a bunch of Scottish nonsense thrown into it. It sounded like when Soap forced himself to sound as American as possible, or when he tried to suppress his accent as much as he could, usually to make fun of people, AKA him and Ghost."Who are you then if you're not Soap?" Gaz asked crossing his beefy arms over his broad chest. "Captain John Price, pleasure to meet you. And you are?" Of course it was Price, he was way too calm about this crazy scenario.

"Sargent Kyle Garrick." He responded as Price snagged a shirt from the closet, he pulled it over his head with a huff and turned to face Gaz. "Right then son, get dressed, I'm calling a meeting.""How are you so calm about all this!?" He threw up his hands "I woke up in Ghosts body with Soap- you-? In my arms completely fucking naked! You have to realize how completely fucking mental to be fine with something like this!" It was weird to see Soap with such a serious expression, he always usually had a goofy smile on his face and was usually in a good mood. "As weird as this is I'm the Captain and need to lead you boys, I need to have a level head. Plus enough weird shit happens around here anyways I've just come to except it at this point." He chuckled and jestured towards the closet again. "Hurry up and get dressed Garrick." Price had donned one of Ghosts shirts and now Soap was sporting a shirt with "L.T RILEY" across the breast and "LIEUTENANT" across the back.

He quickly pulled on some dark jeans and shirt that was identical to the one Price was wearing. Price had snagged one of their phones and was typing something into it. Gaz reached up to tug at the balaclava covering his face, it felt like he was suffocating. "Don't take that off of he'll kill you and then me too" Price warned, pointing at him before sliding the phone into his pocket. He grabbed another phone off the floor and handed it to him. "It's Soaps, didn't know his password, maybe you do. I texted using that chat Soap had set us up a while ago, told the boys to meet us in the conference room."

"Why not your office?" Gaz questioned, taking Soap's phone from Price and slipping it into his pocket. "Do I look like I have my keys on me?" Price asked as he slipped on Soap's boots and started to lace them up. Gaz followed suite aswell, pulling on some black socks before slipping his feet into Ghost's boots. "Right" Gaz said as he finished tying a bow into the shoelaces and standing up to his, now, full hight. Price headed for the door and jestured Gaz to do the same. They started down the hallway towards the conference room after Price pulled the door shut. Gaz's steps were heavy and he felt bulky and too large. Gaz weighed less than Ghost and was pretty light on his feet, he knew Ghost could be too because he loved to sneak around and was usually pretty light on his feet too, but Gaz had no idea how he did it. The man was built like a fridge and had large feet to match. He clumsily fished Soaps phone out of his pocket and was appalled when he could fit the thing in his now huge palm. "Hey Cap, when's Ghost's birthday again?" "February second, ninteen something, why?" Gaz quickly typed something into the number pad to input a password. He'd already tried Soaps birthday so the most logical next step would be Ghost's. "Were in" Gaz grinned even though you couldn't see it behind the mask. "Wow, they really are obsessed with each other aren't they?" Price asked. "Yep" Gaz replied clicking open the text chain. There were two new message notification on the top of his screen:

Ghostie❤️: This is Price. It seems something weird has happened and we woke up in different bodies. Whatever the hell that means. Garrick woke up in Ghost's body and I in Soaps. Meet up in the conference room whenever you receive this.

Of course Ghost was saved as "Ghostie ❤️" in Soaps phone.

Captain: Aw what the hell guys this is weird, cap your face feels funny

Gaz assumed that was Soap. He continued to follow Price down the hall with wide steps. He had to force himself to walk slower as not to overpass him. Price shouldered open the door and led Gaz inside. "Go corral Ghost and Soap while I try and figure this out." Price instructed and he began to collect things from around the room. He figured he would head to Price's room first considering Soap, he assumed it was Soap, Ghost didn't text like that, seemed to be the only one awake of the two.

He started down the long hallway to Price's room. He was starting to get used to his hight and bulk, it was unusual definitely, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He wasn't freaking out as much as he should be considering the situation. Waking up in your scary Lieutenant's body cradling your best friend was sertainly something. He'd tease Soap relentlessly for that he knew that much. Once he reached the door he knocked way harder than he intended to. Goddamn Ghost was a giant. "Aye ahm coming!" He heard scrambling and a disheveled looking Price opened the door. "Ghost wha ta fuck es going on?" Yep it was Soap alright, speaking in Price's voice with a Scottish lilt to it. Gaz held in his laughter at it, he looked so dumb with a goofy expression on his face, shirtless and disheveled and speaking with a forced Scottish accent. "Aye what're ya laughing at Garrick!?" Soap crossed his arms and Gaz looked slightly down at him with a snort that devolved into full belly laughter. His laughs were deep and rough and tears sprung to his eyes as he laughed in Soap's face. "Aye quit that would'ya! Ah dinnae need you laughing at me!" He punched at Gaz's arm but it didn't do much. He was slipping in and out of his accent and he sounded hilarious to Gaz's ears. It really wasn't that funny considering they were all swapped or something of the like.

"Aye my bad mate, put a shirt on and we'll go find Ghost." He exhailed on a shakey laugh as he spoke. Soap grumbled and walked further into Price's room, leaving the door open for Gaz to enter aswell."So what tah ell is goin on ere Gaz? This some Freaky Friday shit, what day of the week is it? Tuesday?" Soap was rummaging through Price's clothes and pulled on a dirty brown colored shirt with Price's rank on the breast and back, just like Ghost's. "Yep" Gaz affirmed and Soap slipped into Price's boots and lazily laced them up. "Right, cmon now we're going to fetch Ghost. Assuming he's me because everyone else is accounted for." A sizzling pit opened up in his stomach and started to mouth at his organs. He would have to see Ghost as himself? That sounds unappealing. He fiddled with the edge of the mask as he lead Soap to his own room.

"Yanno Gaz this is all yer fault." Soap proclaimed, running his hands down his face and running his fingers through Prices facial hair. "Me!? How is this my fault?" "Dunnae, ye jus' seem like tah logical person tah blame.""What!? Why not Price he's the captain!?""Donnae think he'd let somethin' liek this happen.""An' I would?" "Probably." Soap shrugged Gaz knocked on the door and the second he did it was renched open as he was greeted by himself. He looked scared, still in his pajamas and stairing into his own eyes. "Aye ye alrigh'?" Soap asked reaching out towards Ghost's as he flinched back. It was so weird to look at himself. To see himself look so scared and small. He knew it wasn't really him and that Ghost was in his body, piloting it as his own. Seeing through his eyes and feeling through his skin. Breathing through his lungs and hearing through his ears. His eyes were bloodshot and panicky, Ghost was awkwardly standing there toying with the metal key and chain of his favorite necklace anxiously. "Ghost?" Gaz asked. Ghost tilted his head at him and stood up straight, albeit a little shakey. "What tha hell..?" Ghost whispered looking at them both and using both hands to pull at the necklace. "Uhm- can we come in? We'll explain everything?" Gaz offered, slightly off-put by Ghost's reaction. He nodded and stepped back into the room slumping down onto the disheveled mattress. "Care to explain?" Ghost asked, sitting up and sliding into his tough guy persona. "Aye well ait seems we've got a Freaky Friday on our ands" Ghost's anxiety seemed to leave him as he gave Soap a weird look. "Price? Why are you talking like that?" Ghost asked. "Aye naw am Soap, an that's Gaz" he gestured towards where Gaz stood and he offered a little wave. Reaching back up the absentmindedly tug at the mask. "Were in some body swap thing, all in different bodies, were supposed to be meeting up with price to figure out what the hell is going on" He tried his best to explain. "Ah ken ait sounds loony but aits true" Soap shrugged and ran his fingers through his facial hair. Ghost looked up at them skeptically, pulling against the necklace as it clinked. Ghost grunted and stood up "you're not taking that off Garrick. Got it?" Ghost growled and jabbed his finger into Gaz's chest. Gaz rasied his hands in surrender "Aye I wont." "Can ye get dressed? We've got a meetin' ta go tah." Soap said flopping down on Gaz's mattress with a sigh. Ghost grumbled and pulled open Gaz's closet doors.

Gaz turned to look down at Soap with a huff as he crossed his arms. "I'm killing you later by the way" he said and Soap gave a gravely squack. "What!? What did I do!?" Soap sat up at stared at him with mock outrage. "Care to guess how I had to wake up this morning?" He watched Soap think for a moment before he turned a shade of red. The sight was incredibly goofy, Price sitting on his mattress without his hat and an embarrassed expression across his face. "Exactly Soap. If I didn't have this mask on I'd give you one hell of a wet willy." Soap recoiled with a groan "That's disgusting Gaz" he whined. "You've done the same shit to me!" He threw his arms out in offense as Ghost paddled back over to them wearing as much black as possible. "Can I have my phone?" Gaz asked himself. That'll never not be weird. Ghost silently grabbed it off the bedside table and handed it to Gaz. "Oh, here Soap" Gaz swapped out the phones in his pocket and handed it to Soap. "Cheers" he patted his pockets and pulled out a set of keys, a phone and a gum wrapper. All Price's Gaz assumed. Soap shoved everything back into his pocket and raised his eyebrows at Gaz."Right, cmon then" Gaz started towards the door and emerged into the hallway. He heard the click of his door behind him before he beelined back to the conference room

-

Once Gaz bodied the door open, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of it, Price looked up from a scattering of papers amd stationary supplies on the desk. "Good you boys are here. I've already managed to get ahold of laswell through Ghost's phone and inform her of the situation. For now we'll have to deal with it until she can arrive to help us."

"What are we supposed to do then?" Ghost asked, shifting on his feet. "Lay low, if you have to go out anywhere don't make a scene and try and be normal about it. We don't want to cause a stink." The three of them nodded along to Price's words. Gaz wasn't entirely sure this whole thing would work. What would laswell coming solve? Sure he liked the woman and she was one of the smartest people he'd ever met but what would she know about body swaps? Was she an expert in Freaky Friday? Godmanit, now Soap got that stupid movie stuck in his head. He didn't even think he'd ever watched it. Might have with his cousins at some point but it was hazy. He sighed dramatically and rubbed his fingers down his face, or rather, the stupid fucking mask he was wearing. How the hell did Ghost do it all the time? "Practice." He heard himself answer and he turned to look at where Ghost stood. He must've spoken aloud."Alright boys, suppose your hungry?" They all paused before giving hesitant confirmation. "Right then. Let's brave the cafeteria." Gaz groaned inwardly. He really didn't want to have to pretend to be Ghost. How the hell would he even eat? This was a disaster. Total dumpster fire. Like smashing bottles of vodka all over the ground and lighting up a smoke.

He was sure simply getting breakfast couldn't be that bad.

Right?

[pansoph]

thoughts on love island

ok now that it’s just girls i wanted to share an update on my vaginismus. sorry if u actually wanted love island thoughts. this is mostly for the girls but i don’t blame u for being nosy if ur a man just don’t be weird

i’ve struggled w painful sex (dyspareunia) my whole life up until very recently bc of a hypertonic pelvic floor (which i think stems from a physiologically traumatic first experience) and didn’t really start exploring sexual desire or even watching p*rn until i was in my early-mid 20s. eventually over a period of many months it started to feel good/i could climax but it was still really painful at the entrance. but recently (this morning!) i noticed it was completely painless. i can’t tell u how crazy it is to experience something one way and think that’s normal or just how it will be forever and then realise it’s not, once that experiences changes. over and over again. genuinely thought it was just a physiological quirk of mine, to hurt there, because it had hurt there for so long. makes me think about how many other limiting assumptions we make about our bodies/minds that aren’t true

i digress but honestly i think the change has something to do with being with someone earlier this year that i was deeply attracted to who happened to be submissive and i automatically took on a more dominant role which felt so weird at first (conditioned heteronormativity win) and that slowly led me to become able to relax completely, or in other words i guess for my brain to locate and activate the nerves and muscles and tell them to relax (pretty sure even after i ended things with him it still hurt). alternative theory, i started reading body keeps the score after we ended things and began practising breath work more often, understanding the importance of being present (as someone who defaults to dissociation) and acceptance-commitment therapy (ACT) techniques and i think this in addition to having painless, really connected sex (that subverted the only dynamic i had ever experienced, the one environment where all my dyspareunia experiences had been set) for the first time helped.

anyway i truly think my dyspareunia is in some way related to a disconnect between my mind and body that i’ve experienced since i was a kid and today i realised more and more often lately i’ve been able to force myself into emerging, to compel presence and embodiment. i didn’t realise i was constantly dissociating until i read body keeps the score and resonated with the sections about numbing oneself in response to pain. armed w this awareness i’ve been trying to embrace it (explains why i’ve been posting so much about pain/desire lately).

i experience desire > i experience pain > i force myself to feel it instead of shielding myself from it > i practise breath work to allow myself to coexist with the pain > i am present <> i am alive.