#which notebook is for you 👀

[amandaherzman]

[reblogs adored] tomorrow, the 25th of August at 11am AEST my shop will update! I'll have mushroom and meadow flower notebooks, new washi and prints! I'll also be restocking my herbologist zines, volumes two and three!

[liveyun]

you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader

rating. M

genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut

warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am

wc. 4.5k +

if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀

it’s 7:04 AM

or is it really. what is the time again

unfortunately you are awake.

and it’s not by choice.

it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room

and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin

and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!

why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in

you feel like crying

for rEAL.

it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment

you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest

what else is bed hair supposed to look like

“O YEA!”

here we go

again

you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud

has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?

so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried

jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency

you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up

“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”

you haven’t known peace ever since

by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee

you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes

does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder

like ok you understand the value of protein

but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit

and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7

last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge

it smelled like death and regret.

absolute L

anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge

and sigh

it’s empty.

except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk

yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked

10:32 AM

ur first class of the day

and guess what

u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.

again! 😍

u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,

beefy

his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps

and the shading looks pretty accurate too

he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”

you feel a muscle near your eye twitch

“i really don’t remember asking.”

ouch

that came out a bit too rude. . .

you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin

and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid

12:10 PM

you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break

but no

the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation

of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™

does this man even know other foods exist?

atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it

you’re not the one having it anyway

“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang

you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”

he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time

“bored? of gains? never.”

the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose

crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.

“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”

he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”

wha— cough!!

did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?

-100 aura points

your brain just blue-screens

what the hell are you supposed to do with that information

12:22 pm

you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends

his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk

“you gonna eat those?”

“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”

“cool”

c r u n c h

he’s already eaten half the bag.

u are genuinely considering homicide now

the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom

“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”

he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”

“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)

you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners

“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”

...

why is your face heating up. why. stop it

1:00 PM

you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil

“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier

“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye

“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”

“i’d miss the peace”

he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little

1:12 PM

ur phone dings

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow

or don’t. i’ll just steal them again

>:D

you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number

you type back

you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct

his reply is instant.

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛

2:47 pm.

group project time!

otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time

you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones

“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?

wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body

one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king

you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open

in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other

like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination

he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym

“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character

why are his eyes so

cute

“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”

he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”

one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”

my ass.

“he’s useless”

you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”

and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal

you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.

>:-)

midnight.

you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth

through the wall, you hear it. again.

jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.

how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his

you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating

ARGH

that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission

by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision

but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control

you bang on the door like your life depends on it

>:-(

after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.

good lord, those tattoos..

“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down

whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??

“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”

he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?

you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”

“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”

“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”

jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”

before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.

this is your life now.

five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat

you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat

“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat

maybe you should’ve just slept

“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”

you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it

jail isn’t worth it.

yet.

five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point

you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—

crack

“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen

“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain

jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern

he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you

fml

this is so unfair

“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you

you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit

does it look like ur good lol

“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him

“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of

oUuu

“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it

why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?

and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor

your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore

“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning

oh god

“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer

god, stop being so touchy

the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either

you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting

you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission

you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face

and how soft his lips look

your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer

his hair feels so silky soft

but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long

you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this

his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air

jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression

“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely

you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome

his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips

“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought

oH WOW

Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both

and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust

the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised

you both were shamelessly making out on his mat

you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug

and you hear a moan spilling from him

his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away

he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide

and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape

jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel

“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that

“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”

same? SAME?!

you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you

“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline

jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place

“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches

you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you

breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss

you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you

and that kind of inflated ur ego too

>:-)

but now

as u stand behind your closed door

the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic

because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people

he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid

or is this really?..

no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke

the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does

but it’s quiet

too quiet

jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane

you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does

when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way

just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist

asshole

yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest

but it’s not like you’re any better

you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go

your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls

and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you

like you really are a stranger to him

:-(

it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it

the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier

days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance

there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment

even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels

weird

you are so used to him being so noisy and what not

but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air

and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is

you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating

and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having

and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else

you want him to say something. anything.

but he doesn’t

and neither do you

and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist

even when he’s right there.

you go to class and he’s there

sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you

and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep

and you’re… fine with it

totally fine

you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull

it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head

like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope

the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over

and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you

ignoring you

on purpose

you’re not imagining it, right?

lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot

jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you

he doesn’t even look up when you sit down

normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .

but now? nothing

it’s like you’re invisible

and that’s fine. you don’t care.

but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest

because you didn’t expect this coldness from him

even after everything that’s happened

and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..

:(

then you see him texting on his phone

and you can’t help but peek over at his screen

jungkook is texting someone

and it’s not you

for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice

the silence between the two of you stretches out for days

it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together

the night when everything took a wild ass turn

but jungkook’s acting like it never happened

and so are you.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s better

maybe he regrets kissing you.

maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..

and maybe this is easier

you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it

either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment

you try your best to pretend it’s okay

but deep down, you miss the stupid moments

the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.

it feels like it’s been over a decade

:(

and you hate it.

but you push it aside

it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.

you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do

and perhaps ur failing miserably lol

but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him

your notes? he doodled on them during lectures

your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back

your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too

you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door

no, wait—it’s not a knock

it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood

WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG

you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door

and there he is

jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time

hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit

for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat

oh

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy

“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse

you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place

yet

“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his

you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up

“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused

“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer

hUH

the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room

your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you

“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”

“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”

“jungkook.”

you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest

but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”

“juNGKOOK!”

you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”

jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face

like a huge weight has just been lifted off him

almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours

“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there

he somehow looks

small.

“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement

jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”

easier.

only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you

AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently

how ironic

the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip

“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background

and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights

you shake your head with a smile.

“you’re an idiot.”

but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?

jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too

a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst

and it’s over for you

“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”

you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside

“kiss me already”

the door slams shut behind you.

and the rest

as they say, is history

:-)

a/n : i love them bad :’(

mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))

[lyn31]

Ngl, this spring event IS SO SO CUTE, BREATHTAKING, and hilarious at the same time 😭 I didn't expect to see Zayne and his med student interaction lol. So I was wondering, how about Zayne's Student being a big fan of MC? Like- he is jealous of his student, but at the same time, he has to maintain his professionalism lmao

So trueee! Now I think I write it much subtle then what Zayne did on his card, I suppose the event is also quite like that but anyway! Hope you still enjoy it! And I fast forward the timeline LOL

Let me know what you think! 👀💕

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

Prof. Zayne

Summary

You sneak into your husband’s med school lecture in disguise, only to get recognized mid-class—sparking chaos, fan frenzy, and shameless flirting from the professor himself.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Married couple, famous spouse, silly, banter and just cuteness!

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

You sit in the very back row of the lecture hall—hair in a tight bun, hoodie slouched around your shoulders, oversized glasses, surgical mask tugged high. You technically don’t belong here. Not as a student, anyway. Just as an extremely nosy spouse.

But to anyone else, you just look like an overworked med student trying to survive the day. Which is exactly the goal.

You even brought a notebook. It's blank, but it's there for the aesthetic.

He walks in precisely on time. Not a second early, not a second late. White coat crisp, hair immaculately styled, tablet in hand, posture straight. Your heart flutters stupidly in your chest like you didn’t just see him this morning. Like you didn’t kiss him before he left and tell him "good luck" with that soft smugness only a freshly married woman can manage.

The students fall quiet the moment he steps onto the platform. It’s not fear. It’s something quieter—respect, focus, that particular stillness Zayne carries with him into every room. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to. He speaks evenly, gestures only when necessary, and every word lands sharp.

You’re only mildly obsessed.

And then, halfway through a breakdown of a complex cardiac case, his gaze sweeps over the hall—and catches on you.

It’s just a second. Maybe less. But it hits like a spotlight.

You panic.

Eyes shoot down to your blank notebook. You start pretending to write—anything important. Anything at all.

You end up doodling his face instead and snicker at it.

He says nothing. Keeps talking. Doesn’t miss a beat.

But you know he knows.

When the lecture ends, students begin packing up, some already crowding the front to ask follow-up questions. You slip out of your seat and make a calculated dash toward the exit, head down, steps quiet—

“Mrs. Li.”

The name echoes strangely in the academic silence.

You freeze.

You turn, slowly, like you’re in a crime drama and the detective just called you out by name. And sure enough—Zayne stands at the front, tablet in one hand, brow slightly raised. His voice is calm. Polite. But now he looks like he’s questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

You tug your mask down and give a small, sheepish wave. “Hi.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then someone near the front squints. “Wait… Mrs. Li?”

Another student leans forward. “No way—that’s the Hunter from last year, right?”

“Miss Hunter Rookie of the Year?!”

And that’s it.

Suddenly you’re surrounded—students spilling from their seats, phones out, energy sparking like someone dropped a live wire in the middle of the lecture hall. Questions fly from every direction.

“Wait—weren’t your squad the one who led the flank in Sector 10?”

“You trained with your twin sister, right? What’s it like being on the same squad?”

“Can I get a photo—?”

Zayne appears at your side within seconds.

He stays silent. Just... stands there. A guardian statue in a white coat and stethoscope. You can feel the heat of his presence, cool and steady beside you, but his face is unreadable.

One student glances nervously between the two of you. “Uh—Doctor Zayne, is it okay if we...?”

Zayne blinks. Just once.

Then he says. “She’s off duty.”

You elbow him lightly. “It’s fine.”

More flashes. More excited murmurs. One student’s already sending a picture to their group chat, captioned I thought she was a myth.

You answer what you can, deflect what you can’t. Zayne remains next to you the entire time, hands in his coat pockets, eyes scanning the students like he’s still in professor mode—but now with the added burden of everyone realizing he’s married to a Hunter squad celebrity.

At one point, a student nudges their friend and whispers, “Okay but, like... how did he pull her?”

Zayne tilts his head ever so slightly. His lips curve in the way that you only notice.

You hear the whisper.

He definitely hears it too.

But he says nothing.

Eventually, the crowd thins. Students disperse, still chattering excitedly, still glancing back like they might’ve imagined the whole thing.

You even catch someone whisper, “I still remember when Dr. Zayne brought those magazines to Akso last year. They were so cute.”

One student waves as they head out. “Bye, Doctor Zayne and Miss Hunter!”

Once the doors close behind the last one, Zayne finally exhales.

You glance up at him. “You okay?”

He nods. “I just didn’t expect my lecture to turn into a press conference.”

You grin. “In my defense, you know you married a menace.”

His eyes flick down to you, quiet and fond. “Next time, let me know before you disguise yourself and infiltrate my lecture.”

“No fun in that. Besides, it’s not like you do lectures often.”

He hums, low in his throat. “Remind me not to let you anywhere near the residency interviews.”

You slip your hand into his. “But I’d make a great mole.”

He shakes his head. But he doesn’t let go.

In fact, he gives your hand the smallest tug. You take the cue, stepping closer until your shoulders touch.

“You left this.”

You blink as he lifts your notebook from under his arm—your fake aesthetic prop, the one you abandoned in your rush to escape.

He flips it open with clinical precision.

“You took... exactly zero notes.”

You groan. “Don’t judge me. I was emotionally compromised.”

He turns the page. Raises a brow.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

You snatch it from him. “It’s artistic interpretation.”

“Mm.” He doesn’t argue. But you catch the barest twitch of amusement—just a little.

“I see you gave me sparkles. And hearts. And very dramatic eyelashes.”

You’re burying your face in his shoulder at this point. “You were doing so well at being dignified.”

He leans in just enough for you to feel his breath near your ear. “I would’ve preferred a seat beside you. Even if it meant enduring the sparkles in real time.”

“Ohhh, is Prof. Zayne flirting with his student?”

He lifts an eyebrow, gaze cool and dry. “I’m flirting with my wife. Not my student. Unless my student is you... then I suppose I’m doing both.”

You gasp, scandalized. “Doctor Zayne!” You tilt your head up, eyes narrowing. “So the professional mask drops the second no one’s here?”

“Only for you.”

You blink, momentarily thrown. Your heart stutters—because damn, he’s good at this. You try to play it cool, but the corners of your mouth betray you with a slow, rising smile.

He watches you—his gaze softens, something warm and teasing flickering and you can almost feel the moment he shifts gears.

He straightens slightly, expression unreadable. “Though now that I think about it...” A beat. “Should I report you for academic misconduct?”

Your mouth falls open. “Excuse me?!”

“You impersonated a student. Sat through a full lecture without registering. Brought no notes. Left behind compromising sketches of the lecturer.” A pause. “I believe that qualifies as a violation of protocol.”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I’m going to sue.”

“For what?”

“Emotional damage.”

He leans in like he might actually kiss you right there, one hand still holding yours, the other brushing lightly at your hip. Close enough to steal your breath. Close enough that you nearly let him—

B R R R R N G—!

The dismissal bell blares through the hall like a spiteful punchline.

You both freeze.

Then you laugh—sharp and loud and unexpected. Zayne exhales like he’s been personally slighted by the scheduling office.

You clutch his arm, giggling helplessly. “Your timing is awful.”

“I wasn’t the one who infiltrated a lecture in disguise.”

“But you were the one about to kiss your ‘student’ on school grounds.”

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. But doesn’t argue.

Instead, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles—innocent, but just barely.

“Come on, husband,” you say, tugging him toward the door, your grin still wide. “Let’s get out of here before anyone comes in and you'll ruin your image.”

He lets you lead him, his fingers laced with yours, voice low behind you. “Too late.”

You slip out into the corridor—hand in hand, heart in sync, and the possibility of Zayne’s reputation only slightly singed.

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

Notes

Too late indeed 😂 This is a short and cute one but hope y'all enjoy it still 💕 Here's the series list if you want to read more about Husband/Dad Zayne! Parenthood AU list ✨

[neonovember]

Okay hear me out, how would carmen react to someone he's dating being a "picky eater" that has a VERY limited diet due to sensory issues👀

This is totally not self-indulgent /s

Eeeee

carmen berzatto x reader

enjoy some bear fam ribbing and carmen carmen carmen

honestly I think he’d be interested if anything! His mind is constantly on overdrive thinking of recipes and foods and the combinations of flavours, and how to change this and tweak that. He could run on fumes, just a jar of tums and his notebook and spend the night brainstorming dishes. We’ve all seen it, it might be a way for him to distract from the hellish that is his social life outside the Bear, by bringing it home too. So when he meets his girl, who’s got a palate that is entirely different to anything he’s seen before he takes it as almost a challenge to push himself to produce something amazing, creative and yours.

You’re his girl, he has this carnal need to take care of you, and can you imagine if you were nervous or worried about what he might think??? No he’d run his thumb along your thigh, while you're on either side of him wrapped in the covers that were warm from the morning sun and just raise his eyebrows and snicker in that way he does. And it hit him that your exes were dipshits and never listened to you and he’d gather you in his arms and murmur how you could watch him cook for you every day if you wanted to.

And he held true to that, he’d sit you down on the counter after hours in the Bear later that night. You’d sneak in, when you’re craving for something that the places around you can’t offer and Carmen is just fucking itching to serve you food and show off his fucking Michelin talent.

It would be a ritual, you watching and him making. He’d serve it to you all pretty and clean, leaving his serving to be eaten from the pan. And he watches every expression on your face, every quirk and flick of your eyebrow and he’d know, god he’d know what you were thinking in that moment. If you liked it or not, if it triggered one of your senses into overdrive and had you trying to hide the way your teeth scraping against a certain component left you shivering in disgust.

He’d know and he’d rush to give you water and make you spit it out despite your protests. And you shake your head in anger at the things you can’t control and Carmen will sit with you on the floor of the Bear and he’d smile in that way he does, as he’d ask about every part and force it out of you until he’d be changing the meal entirely. 

Showing you the things you can control which was making your boyfriend who cooked for a living, cook.

He’d be protective over you I feel like, after you tell him bad experiences that had ruined your relationship with food. Making sure no one gave you shit about it, always on guard, eyes in slits and voice gravelly when waiters double check your order or look anywhere but their fucking notepad.

The team is a whole other situation… I imagine it to be a whole team involved in a sit down investigation, an entire intervention by them because they are just so confused and scared (which is actually hilarious) that you were barred from eating certain foods or something.

-- -

“Okay, okay, how about pasta alla vodka” Tina muses, a grin pulling at her jaw as she leans back against the cheap plastic chairs that were reserved for the house.

“Nop, don’t like those bits of tomato they leave in the sauce” You shrug, chewing on your straw as you watch the way the rest of the team rears back in dismay.

Tina’s face drops, stubbornly pulling out a dollar bill and slapping it into Richie's grinning face.

“I thought I had it dammit” Tina groans, muttering about losing to a fake Italian divorcee who skimped her out of a chocolate bar.

You're all scattered in the back of the Bear, popcorn and peanuts are littered amongst half emptied bottles of beers on the large metal table that spans across the room. The Bear had been closed today, some sort of team building attempt at brainstorming new ideas for the menu and the Bear itself. 

Much to the annoyance of the rest of the crew, who had to make the commute in a freezing Chicago winter on a day that was supposed to be a break, somewhere along the fights that erupted at every suggestion and the stubbornness that remained in each of the team it did feel a little like family bonding.

At least it felt like it now, as they all collectively came together to study you.

That's where you found yourself, being pulled into the never calm-always-catastrophic environment of the Bear thanks to Carmen. You had protested at first, thinking you would be out of place in the sea of decorated chefs but as your phone dinged with messages from Syd and Richie, the latter earring on a very thinly veiled threat to ‘be there or i'll come and get you’ you found yourself throwing on a too thin jacket and knocking against on the Bear’s ‘closed’ sign after your shift.

You were greeted with the warmth of the Bear, breathing it in deeply before you realised that the smoky heat of the restaurant was as much fueled by the temperamental crew screaming out obscenities in the back as much as the radiator Fak had somehow fixed for the 15th time.

You didn't quite understand how you got here, you in the middle, and the team surrounding you firing out questions about your less than conventional palate. 

Carmen's disgruntled protest against the team channeling some sort of crud rip off of True Detective did little as the team went around listing dishes from escargot to cheese on bread to get your opinion. 

It was downright ironic, you know this. You are someone who couldn't stand the texture and smell of certain foods to the point of having them struck from your diet with a man whose entire life was surrounded by, and birthed from the complexities of texture and taste.

“It’s one of the stables of Italy!’ Richie barks, stuffing the dollar bill into his pocket hile shaking his head. 

The beer he had opened had gone cold in his hand since the beginning of the conversation. He couldn't stop his mouth from remaining hung open after every shake of your head and shrug of your shoulders towards the meals they loved.

You wondered if chefs have the same value systems as other..tightly knit organisations. One where disrespect leads to your swift removal…off the face of the earth. You don’t let yourself forget that they are skilled in the goddamn wielding of knives no matter their friendly chiding, you might be one shake of your head away from being prepared in all the ways you hate your food to be.

Carmen looked at you, his eyes straining across your body to check if you felt uncomfortable. He knew your tells almost as well as you know, and he'd be quick to shut it down and take you back home if need be. But as your eyes meet his, and the squint of a smile reaches them he shakes his head, mouths a “goddamn idiots”, and rolls his eyes at his families curiosity.

“Listen, I get that, I don't like bits of bone in my meat. But surely, for a dish that you know I know you know tastes like the fucking gates of heaven, you can make an exception” Syd blinks, her face filled with expectation, like she thought it was obvious.

You’re giggling at Sydney words, “Is this reassurance for me or for you”

“Me. It’s for me” Syd gulps, blinking as she registers the truth

“I just can’t eat food, no matter how good you guys tell me it is, that fucks up my sensory issues-”

“Alright, yeah, sensory issues, darling I bet if i could bring you to ONE dinner, one of our dinners at Carmen's Ma's we could easily persuade you-”

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

“No, no look Carmen. This is your woman ain't she? How can you let her walk around without letting her taste the delicate crossroads that produce Chicago- Italian cuisine? I mean you're seriously failing-”

“Fuck you”

“Goddamn fake”

The irony of it all was, you and Carmen had both met at a farmers market. Surrounded by food you wouldn't eat, at a place you didn't frequent, all for one particular food you did eat. And somehow, despite passing by 95% of vendors without even a swipe of your eye against their delicate colors and shapes, Carmen had bumped into you.

And he had apologies and you had crouched down to collect the runaway potatoes and fruits that tried to escape through his pouch, and your fingers had collided when you looked up to see the man who had interrupted your 15 minute venture.

Through the blurted out line of apologies, Carmen had stopped and looked at you and tried to reopen his hanging mouth. And you sat there half amused and half worried he was having a stroke.

“I know this is forward and you can tell me to go to hell, but could I take you out sometime?”

You had caught the last of the disobedient root vegetables when you raised your eyebrows in surprise, and let yourself be shocked again as you said yes.

Carmen had nodded and smiled when you told him you weren't exactly experimental with your diet, wanting to get it out of the way when you found out he was a chef and your sensory issues had been a problem for people who didn't make food for a living.

You expected the same ritual, the same dance of having to explain your diet to people and wait for them to actually understand that your pickiness wasn't just the usual ‘dislike’, but a very real thing that impacted how you eat everyday. You had no choice in it, that's what you told them every time and they had rolled their eyes and thrown your words in your face as they compared you to a petulant child that didn't want to eat their vegetables. You sighed and they did too, as they watched you flip every menu to the page for children and you cringed as the waiter looked around for your child and realised it was you.

Carmen was different though, of course he was. He didn't let his surprise go hidden, as he asked about every food you disliked and everyone you did. Noone before asked, they simply resolved to assume your diet was constricted in the small section of the kids meal. But Carmen asked, he did all night when you had brought it up after he asked to cook for you. Sitting on your couch, talking about you, and your diet, and your sensory issues for hours until he knew everything about them.

Until he simply nodded, and wrote something in his notebook and asked if you were still free on Thursday.

Of course the family was teasing, and of course they’d all tweak any dishes you were craving so that they weren't overloading your senses in any way. You’ve got a reserved seat at the Bear, and all your favourite dishes on standby if you ever wanted to come in to find something that didn't set you off and leave you anxious and sensitive.

It gets to an alarming rate of you coming in nearly every other day, in which Richie, Carm Syd and every other person in the Bear constructed some under the table deals with dea by restaurants to accommodate your sensitivities. They all like to feign ignorance when you walk in the next day all smiles, showing off your little takeaway box from the Portuguese spot you had so desperately to try before the stark textures and flavours of the menu you perused dashed the thought away.

Carmen hated seeing that excitement turn into defeated acknowledgement of the barriers you had around food. But also, in the same breath, Carmen knows how certain textures and tastes can trigger you into getting over-stimulated, leading to becoming frazzled and irritated. Which is exactly why he would never let you push yourself too far, supporting you if you ever wanted to try it out but immediately taking the dish away from you when he realised your heart was racing too quick and you were getting stiff..

“Baby, easy. Need you to go slow, yeah?”

“Alright, that’s enough. You did good sweetheart, I’m proud of you. Lemme make you something for tonight though yeah? Something you like?”

The truth was there were going to be some days where both Carmen's creativity, and your sensory issues outdo him. You were okay with that though, you were still catching up to reality that someone loved you enough to fit their life around yours.

And then Carmen copied your meals for a week when you told him this, until the Bear was relying on his memory of taste and you finally agreed that yes, there was no fitting needed.

[nottivagos]

MAFIA CARLOS MAKING A COMEBACK?? i'm the one who is going to cry ヽ(；▽；)ノ no rush for the fics but i so want to wait until you get jock!carlos out before sending ideas, maybe art student!danny even if i'm not a danny girlie but i have an idea 👀 i don't to overwhelm you with ideas. you got this! good luck!!

- 🐇

You're back again I see.... Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Wednesday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: 🐇NONNIE!!! ugh i love you. this one has been sitting in my drafts for WAYYYYYY too long. if you want a song to listen whilst reading this one, check out "When You Dress Up" by Lucia and The Best Boys <3

Smokey air clung around you as wisps of grey floated to the ceiling, in the vast, antique Billiard Room on Carlos’s estate. The stagnant stench of rich Cubans and imported whiskey burnt your senses. The atmosphere heavy with the weight of dirty money, the reek of wealth wrapped suffocatingly tight around yourself.

The eyes of men that dared look at you for too long burnt into your bare skin that dared make itself noticeable, their gazes lingering on the flimsy fabric that clung ever too desperately to your frame. The faint sounds of cheap lighters crackled every so often, followed by men’s relaxed sighs as they took that initial drag of the sweet nicotine which rushed through their blood. Condensation off of your crystal glass became uncomfortable to the touch as you sat silently in the lion’s den, waiting for that hungry someone to pounce.

Low murmurs was the ambience for the evening. Business talks lowly conversed as men whispered into each other's ears about their next deals with sleazy politicians or when their next imports of drugs were coming into the country.

You’d become accustomed to the large fortune Carlos Sainz owned. The empires he’d conquered to be at the top, the blood that had been shed on the pavements of Madrid, the screams of commonfolk’s fear that rang around your ears— it was like second nature now. At first it was endearing. Really, it was. Why wouldn’t it be? You were allowed as many shopping sprees as your heart desired, unlimited budgets for items you didn’t need more of, the designer goods that were constantly being added to your ever growing wardrobe— you swam in Carlos’s luxury, indulging in materialistic filth.

However, you soon found yourself becoming desensitised to the thrill of receiving such gifts. It was obvious to the naked eye that Mr Sainz had a looming, heavy influence on what you wore around his lavish grounds. Yes, you had the liberty of buying whatever you chose, but you didn’t have the liberty of showing off the full outfits that you wore. 

‘The first rule of being a trophy: play dress-up and sit pretty.’ You remembered one of Carlos’s lackey's wives telling you. The advice was like a distant memory back then. You recalled not knowing what a ‘trophy’ meant in that scenario, but you soon came to understand why she said it.

Stay silent, sit pretty, don't bring too much attention to yourself and you'll survive in this life. That was what ingrained into your mind as you adjusted yourself slightly waiting for Carlos to arrive.

Wearing something that he wouldn't approve of was frisky, you knew that, but what you also knew was that you were practically untouchable. Despite wearing the black, flimsy, low cut dress that rode up your thighs which made heads turn, and their eyes glimmer with hunger at the sight, Carlos’s men knew their place in correlation to you, and it was very noticeable that you weren't going to be touched by them anytime soon.

Time droned on deadly slow, the soft ticks of the antique grandfather clock made it even more harrowing. You could sense a shift in atmosphere when Carlos arrived, the small talk dissipated into nothing. Long hair tickled your bare shoulders as you locked eyes with him for a brief moment. Carlos always had a knack for giving you an unreadable expression— a walking paradox for emotion, some may say— but the way his jaw locked into place as he assessed the way the dark fabric clung to you in the wrong places was enough to make your heart drop.

He took his seat next to you, a large hand coming to rest on your bare thigh almost immediately. The touch wasn't as loving as it usually was, no, this one held possessiveness to it. A flicker of agitation glimmered in his eyes before he cleared his throat to proceed with the meeting he'd arranged.

How you dreaded everything from the moment he started talking, the murmuring of others following. A smug burst of confidence was your overall tragic downfall, as a cocktail of emotions swam around in your stomach, mixing with the alcohol that burnt in its wake. You'd never even wanted a meeting to be over so fast, yet secretly yearning for it to not. Biting your inner cheek in desperation, you caught one of Carlos’s lackey's giving you a smirk in your peripheral vision. A hitched breath followed, as you swallowed your embarrassment, looking straight ahead to try and compose yourself.

Carlos gave you a harsh squeeze on the thigh in response to the change in your demeanour. It was almost as if it was a warning. Maybe even a silent ‘I told you so’. You didn't dare look at him, the intensity of his anger suffocating you as the meeting blurred into nothing whilst your head screamed out in agonising dread.

The rest of the evening was a blur. One by one soon enough Carlos’s lackeys were leaving, some with their partners, some after slipping wads of cash to the man sat next to you, some with no recognition of Carlos on the way out.

The last man finally exited the large room as the large, oak door closed with a stark click. Carlos had already moved over to the pristine, untouched pool table at this point, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter placed on another small table beside it. He let out a tut as he let his glass fill to a moderate amount, before a sharp snap of his fingers followed, demanding you come to him.

“Carlos, I—” you began to try to reason, your voice a little shakier than usual. The cold man was emotionally unresponsive, as you brought a hand to brush against his upper arm in hope of a little change in demeanour.

If anything, trying to reason made it worse. Something in Carlos snapped, a large hand wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you towards him, before he pressed your back against the pool table, his body looming over you as his brown doe eyes stayed locked onto your's from above.

Opening your mouth to plead your case, a finger came to press against your lips. “Not another word,” Carlos’s thick accent was dark, the command evident as you submissively nodded helplessly.

“You've already made a few heads spin this evening, haven't you princesa?” His interrogatives bit harshly as he settled himself in between your legs. “What were you thinking, huh? Dressing like that in front of my men? Looking for some kind of reaction?”

“Carlos,” you breathed hopelessly, eyes widened as you stood below him completely at his mercy.

“I didn't tell you to speak, did I?” He butted in, a dark eyebrow raised in response.

“No Carlos,” you responded, “you didn't.”

“Then be a good girl and don't talk,” he drawled into your ear, his hot breath fanning onto your ear as he pressed his lips against your neck, a little underneath your earlobe.

You shivered slightly, feeling his hot kisses trail down the side of your neck as his teeth grazed the skin. A pathetic whine escaped your lips as you laid underneath him helpless, just letting him barrage you with hard bites and soothing licks of his tongue over the sore spots on your collarbone.

You moaned softly, writhing slightly in Carlos’s grip. You felt yourself getting wetter as Carlos peppered wet kisses across your visible chest, before finally catching your lips with a searing one. Your lips melted on his as your mouths fought for dominance, Carlos’s growing clothed erection grazing against your damp panties, the friction driving you crazy.

When he pulled away, a little line of saliva connected both of you together, his lips forming into a wicked upon the sight of you lying on the pool table. Chest rising with ragged breaths, cheeks flushed a harsh crimson, eyes wide and pleading. Carlos’s bites still stung, and you both knew there would be hickeys in their wake tomorrow, a punishment for dressing like you did this evening.

“Carlos,” you pleaded with a soft whine. “I'm sorry, please,” you whispered, the look in your eyes begging for more.

He just chuckled tauntingly in response. “You really think you deserve being fucked after what you've done, huh, cariño?” He teased with mockery, his brown eyes darker than usual.

“Such a dirty girl for me,” he drawled, calloused fingertips tracing along your collarbone ever so slowly which drove you even more insane. “Is that what you wanted all along? To dress like this just so I'd fuck you?” He asked as his hand came to cup your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothingly across your flushed apple.

You bashfully shook your head, an obvious lie on your part, gulping nervously in response. You couldn't make eye contact with him, not with the pooling desire burning in between your legs, which you'd begun to rub your thighs with to help alleviate.

“My, my,” Carlos hummed, licking his lips ever so slightly. “Maybe if you weren't so much of a slut, I'd take you right now,” he mumbled, “but after that little show you put on for my men? Now I'm not so sure.”

You groaned in response to his words. Your body yearned for his touch, the slow trails of his fingertips ghosting over your hot skin as it practically begged for more. Carlos pitied you. The sight was so beautifully saddening, you looked so desperate, so needy for him and it only added fuel to his own fire.

“Look at you,” Carlos sighed before letting out another tut in mockery, looking down at you with a feigned frown, “all helpless and needy for me. Whining underneath me like the bitch you are,” he added before he slid down your thighs, positioning himself on the floor in between them.

“Open up for me nena,” he commanded lowly, nudging your thighs apart slightly. “Come on,” he encouraged.

Abiding to his command, you spread yourself apart, just so your soaked panties were on display for him. Carlos let out an amused laugh in response to the sight, before his fingertips came to clip themselves around the hem and pull them down your legs with ease.

“Carlos,” you breathed again, feeling his hot breath mingle with the cold air of the room on your slick folds. “Carlos, I—”

You were cut off by Carlos’s tongue delving into your weeping cunt uninvited, nose slightly nudging against your clit as you gasped in response. Hungry hands clawed at his head almost instantly, nails combing through his beautiful brown hair as he continued to lap up at your pussy, his tongue working miracles as you moaned loudly.

The heat in your belly burnt swiftly as you felt yourself teetering over the edge with every lick or suck Carlos made on your slick cunt. Eyes rolled back as the coil began to tighten to a new intensity as you felt your imminent crash of ecstasy waiting to happen impatiently.

Your nails dug into Carlos’s scalp as your body finally let go after the pleasure became agonisingly too much to handle, your body shuddering uncontrollably with the longing release your body was desiring for. Crying out with an overwhelming pleasure, you whined as Carlos lapped at your dripping pussy, savouring the taste of your orgasm on his tongue.

“Good girl,” he purred onto your cunt, before pressing a soft kiss against it. He stood up from his knees, some of your juices still congealed on his face as he looked down at your panting mess of a state.

“Next time I won't give in so easily, cariño,” Carlos cooed as his hand came back up to your face and rubbed your cheek again. “Dress like that again in front of my men and I'll take you in front of them,” he warned, his thick accent low as he had a devilish smirk on his face, “but I bet you'd like that wouldn't you, princesa?”

like mafia!carlos? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[yan-randomfandom]

i love your writings sm!! It's literally so good i keep coming back to see if you've updated udgshsj 😔😔 💖💖

This might be kinda a weird idea but I want to share this idea of yandere robot ford &/or stanley-

Here's a small drabble

So so reader's like a researcher/mechanic or smth similar to that, and one day they found this strange robot their backbyard and they see that the robot's conditions are not too damaged and it look like its intended to look like a human, reader became intrigued so they took it back inside and decided to repair it. They saw that the robot's label spelling out "ST4NF0R5/ST4NL33". it took days for them to try reactive the robot.. one night reader slept on their desk, and suddenly light appears on the robot's eyes and as he scanned the environment, his eyes landed on your sleeping figure.

i'd love to see your interpretation of this if it isn't too weird !!! Can be HC's or small scenario, preferably romantic but it's up to you!! 🥹🥹

Tysm for your time i hope you have a great day!! 💗

p.s can i be 🪴 anon?

Yandere!Robot!Pines x GN!Reader

a/n: thank you 🪴 anon!! i love the lil robot idea you have, very interesting 👀 I also decided to continue your drabble, which is super well-written btw 😭

Also we won't have a specific twin here, but he'll be called Stan. The first syllable Reader nicknames for. But you can imagine any Stan!

🤖 ;

You wave your hand repeatedly in front of the robot's face.

No response. How strange.

The reports indicated recent activity. His motherboard and circuits were slightly warm, which was unusual for decommissioned robots, and some motors even seemed out of place.

You were supposed to run tests today to see if the robot was still functioning, but it seems that it was ahead of itself.

It didn't make anything less confusing, though. Did it turn on while you were sleeping? Why isn't it reacting now?

With a defeated sigh, you lean back in your chair, loosely chalking the situation up to a faulty powerhouse. Guess you're just too good at fixing stuff. You'll have to observe it more later.

For now, you should really eat breakfast—you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. A bit too fixated on the robot you found.

You placed its cracked glasses back on, your eyes lingering over him.

No further signs of movement; he remained still. You're keeping an eye on this one, because right now, you're slightly paranoid he might explode on you.

Oh, well. There's plenty of time.

You headed to the kitchen and grabbed your usual jar, your fingers wrapping around the lid.

A grunt left your lips. A bit tighter than what you're used to.

You tried to open it again, this time having your hand underneath your shirt.

Dang.

Suddenly, the jar was taken from you and, with ease, got popped open by a large hand.

Your jaw dropped.

The robot you had been fixing for the last couple days stood in front of you—no support, and no external control.

Stan placed the jar on your counter, his mechanical eyes locking onto yours. His stare felt almost reserved, calculating.

You merely stood there in disbelief for the next few seconds.

📝 —

"This is amazing! I didn't think you'd be active so soon," you rambled, scrambling around the room for your notebook. "Just give me a moment. Where did I put that darn thing..."

Stan quietly watched you. His eyes tracked your every movement, never leaving you for a second.

"Found it!" you chirped, holding the notebook triumphantly in one hand. You walked over to the robot, gesturing toward the chair behind him.

"Please, take a seat! You might not be, uh, oof—"

Instead, you found yourself gently pushed down into the chair. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering, before stepping away. That was an act of service, you noted. You cleared your throat.

"...And that brings me to my first question!" You uncapped your pen, positioning the tip on your notebook.

"What is your purpose?"

Stan paused, seemingly processing your words. You'd never actually heard him speak before so you're a little on the edge of your seat.

"...As an artificial intelligence," he started. You almost clicked your tongue at his voice. It was gruff, perhaps a feature, but either way, you could tell it lacked a stable voicebox.

"I provide day-to-day assistance and companionship," he continued, blinking robotically. Stan didn't say anything more after that.

"A companion, huh," you hummed, jotting down your newfound discoveries.

You assumed that his creator must have been incredibly lonely if they had to resort to building robots. Not that you're judging them; after all, you understood the feeling of being an outcast from society. If you had to dig deeper into Stan's appearance, his design looked oddly specific. Maybe he was based on a real person—?

"You are not my creator."

Your hand stopped writing.

"...Oh, shoot," you gasped, standing from your chair. "You're right. I haven't even introduced myself!"

He stared down at you, his height suddenly feeling like it was looming over you. You swallowed the lump of your throat before continuing.

"I'm—"

"You are not my creator," he repeated. "But you fixed me. Why?"

"Well... I—"

Stan purred within his robotic body. "I suppose it doesn't matter. My creator dismantled me, and I must make sure you don't do the same."

His large hands gripped you by your sides. You panicked, your heart rate increasing. He must have noticed.

"Do not worry. I am merely fulfilling my purpose."

bonus draft:

You grinned, letting Stan take your laundry basket.

"Aw, geez, I had it," you snickered, crossing your arms. You watched him put the clothes one by one for drying.

"It is more efficient this way," he replied as he continued to his task.

this was supposed to be longer but yeeaaahh

[f1tales]

i'm working late, cause i'm a singer - mv1

that's that me espresso || part four

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: i didn't proof read this.

face claim: sabrina carpenter

liked by maxverstappen1, hattiepiastri and others

ivypiastri: i'm working late, cuz i'm a singer ✌

View all comments

ivysgarden: girl new music when?

ivypiastri: soon 👀

ivypiastrifan: 💓

landonorris: i'm working later, cuz i'm a driver? idk what this means..

oscarpiastri: it means she's working late cause she's a singer.. what's not to understand? muppet

landonorris: hey! who u calling a muppet?

oscarpiastri: you.

ivypiastri: ladies, ladies. easy

maxverstappen1: 👀

oscpastry81: uh max what u doing here?

landonorris: i'm wondering that too.....

Ivy hadn't been able to attend the Chinese Grand Prix. She had been cooped up in a small studio in Perth to work on some more songs for her album.

That didn't mean she didn't watch. Max had FaceTimed her the second she could. Her heart skipped a beat when his smiling face appeared on her screen.

She missed him.

Which is why she was headed for the airport: on her way to surprise Max in Monaco. Oscar and Lando were headed off to the MTC, so she couldn't ask them to pick her up from the airport. She had pressured Oscar into giving her Daniel Ricciardo's phone number.

She had met the fellow Aussie a few times, twice in the paddock and once that week on his farm, but they had never exchanged phone numbers.

He had been very excited to come pick her up in Nice. Went on and on about how romantic this was. And how Max couldn't shut up about her.

Only twenty-one hours until she would see him again. God, she was so gone for this man.

Ivy spent the majority of her flights scribbling down some lyrics in her notebook. A big portion of her album was done now. Max had been so excited about the songs she had showed him.

She still remembers the beaming smile on his face when she played him a song over FaceTime. She wrote it after she and her ex broke up and about how the dating pool was slim; she hoped he wouldn't think it was offensive.

On the contrary; he laughed as he bopped along.

It had been Ivy feel all giddy. Never in her life had anyone made her feel that way. And they'd only known each other for about a month.

At the airport in Nice, she looked around as she dragged her suitcase behind her. Surely Daniel Ricciardo wouldn't be hard to miss. She squinted her eyes as she did another take around the airport arrivals hall.

"Looking for someone?"

Ivy jumped aside. Daniel's booming laugh could be heard all throughout the airport. They might have heard him all the way over in Monaco.

"Funny."

"Alright," Daniel grabbed Ivy' suitcase out of her hand, "let's get you to Max. He'll be so excited! Surely this is the most romantic thing someone's ever done. Can I film it?"

liked by ivy_piastristan, formulaoscar and others

ivypiastri_updates: Ivy was spotted arriving in Nice earlier today! She was seen leaving with fellow Aussie Daniel Ricciardo 👀

View all comments

ivysgarden: she looks stunning!

piastriverstappen: wait wait wait, wasn't she seeing max tho?

pastrysiblings: chill, DR literally only picked her up...

eics.ivy: noooooo my piastappen heart 💔💔

oscpastry: is that what we're calling them now?

formula-ivy: guys, seriously!! she was never even confirmed to be dating max. go touch some grass please.

maxinmotion: are we forgetting daniel's literallly max's friend? maybe he asked him to pick her up.

pastrysiblings: or or or or max and ivy aren't together. 🤔🤨

maxverstappen1: Hm.

eics.ivy: MAX?!

maxinmotion: @/pastrysiblings explain this then.....

pastrysiblings: @/maxinmotion i can't.. i'm stumped.

Daniel glanced over at Ivy, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his Porsche. She was fidgeting with her hands as she looked out the window.

"Do you want to stop at mine first? Shower or something?"

Ivy looked over at him. A grateful smile spread across her face. "Yes, please! Thank you. I don't want to show up at Max's house and smell like plane. Imagine that gives him the ick."

The Australian driver hummed, "somehow I don't think anything you do could ever give that man the ick."

They fell into easy conversation about music. Ivy invited him to the studio some time, maybe he could play guitar on a track or two. Ivy had grinned at the way his eyes lit up. Daniel, in return, had invited her to come to a race as his guest sometime.

They pulled up to the garage of Daniel's apartment in Monaco. Daniel frowned. Ivy followed his gaze. Max was standing in front of the apartment building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked anthing but happy.

Ivy looked over at Daniel, "we're you expecting him?"

Daniel groaned. He shook his head, he showed Ivy his phone. Heidi had texted him; it was all over Instagram. Pictures of him picking Ivy up at the airport.

Now, Daniel knew Max to be a pretty reasonable person in his privatel ife. But not when it came to Ivy. Daniel has no idea what happened the day he met her, but he's crazy about this girl. He's incapabale of reasonable thinking when it comes to her.

"Well, this should be fun."

Ivy glanced between Daniel in the driver's seat next to her and Max standing with his arms crossed outside; yes, this will be great fun.

part five coming soon.

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller

[wrestlingwithlife]

Task Force 141 Boys with Cowboy (Head canons)

Decided I’d write some head cannons for Cowboy!Reader with our main boys either that haven’t written about yet or have but are so cute I wanted to reiterate <3

Task Force 141 x Cowboy!Reader

—————————————————————————————————————

Soap :

#1 hype man fr 🗣️🗣️

Absolutely obsessed 😍

Will literally find any excuse to get Y/n to talk just to hear his accent

After watching Ghost get man handled by him he actually begged Y/n to spar with him

Looks up southern stuff to say to Y/n

“Y/n, will you take me to a Honkytonk? 🥺”

He tries his best but at this point he’s just doing it to get a reaction

Stumbled across the song “F***** by a Country Boy” and thought all country music was like that

Couldn’t look Y/n in the eye with hearing it in his head for a solid week

Never sleeps better then when his head is in Y/n’s lap

Literally will sleep like a rock

Soap is usually the one who falls asleep on Y/n

He didn’t realize how cuddly Y/n actually was until after one fateful night

Soap had came to watch old murder files with the southern male one night

Y/n fell asleep on Soap’s shoulder, slumbering silently

When Soap went to lean forward to grab his water he was yanked back into Y/n

Y/n bear hugged him to his chest and refused to let him go

Soap cherished that moment for the rest of forever

Added ‘Save a horse ride a cowboy’ to his Instagram bio

Has def stolen Y/n hat and tried it on

Y/n didn’t have the heart to tell him about the hat rule

But he’ll handle it eventually~

Absolute thigh guy

Has been caught staring so many times

Does not care

Continues to stare 👀

Has asked Y/n to crush him between his thighs

Y/n thought he was joking

He was not

#relatable

Ghost :

Absolutely whipped

Won’t even deny it if someone calls him out

He’s all about that Honkytonk Badonkadonk🤠

When Y/n says a word or phrase he doesn’t understand he just nods along until the male walks away, in which he will whip out his phone and immediately search it up

When Y/n mentioned there were times he missed his horses he made it his personal mission to find horses for him to pet

Ended up finding a place nearby that did horse therapy

He and Y/n both went and they absolutely loved it

The horses absolutely adored Y/n and smothered him with love

The southern male was happy to reciprocate

Ghost took a picture of it and now it’s his Lock Screen

Ghost was nervous the horses weren’t going to like him

Most animals don’t like his mask

Was elated when he realized the horses didn’t care about it

They really started to love him when Y/n showed Ghost how to feed them

Ghost was in heaven

He grew particularly fond of an old shire mare

She was all white and covered in scars but she was so impossibly gentle for her massive size

The worker said they called her Big Mama and she’d was a retired logging horse that had been rescued from going to slaughter

She adored Ghost and followed him everywhere

The workers explained she had a knack for taking the more nervous horses and animals on the ranch under her wing and making them feel a safe

Ghost almost cried when he hugged her 🥺

Now where Soap liked to sleep on Y/n, Ghost prefers to have Y/n sleep on him

Was laying in bed with Y/n one night while scrolling through his phone

Y/n was already snoozing 😴

Ghost went to put his phone on the nightstand only to get yanked back

Bro was shocked

Y/n snatched him back, burrowing under his arm

Almost cried again 🥹

Price :

Absolutely adores Y/n southern culture

Has a little notebook where he keeps stuff he learned from Y/n written down 🖊️

Occasionally uses southern slang around Y/n but unlike Soap he’s completely serious

Except the word Ain’t

He refuses to say that

When he finds out Y/n feels homesick he does everything he can to help

Gets Y/n all his favorite things

Favorite candies, books, flowers, even got Y/n a cow stuffie when he talked about missing his animals

Y/n put it next to his horse stuffie he got him last week

Price is a good cook but he doesn’t usually have the urge to do it that often

But when Y/n talked about a dish from his home town he missed??

Price spent two day’s learning how to make it and getting the stuff

Whipped that shit up like freaking master chef

The cowboy was elated and gave Price the most bone crushing hug

Snuck a little cheek kiss in there too 💋

Price’s cheeks turned pink so fast

I’m just going to say it…

Has drunk made out with Y/n before 🤯

The two got absolutely turnt on whiskey and just went for it

They never spoke about it after that but when they get close they still think about it

Price misses how the American male tastes

Something definitely awoke in him the day that he watched Y/n ride that mechanical bull

In a game of ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’ Y/n would Marry Price a hundred times over

I mean, me too 😍

Tried southern Cajun food that Y/n made once and his heart almost stopped

It tasted good and then all of a sudden everything was on fire

Did better at holding his spice then Soap tho so 10/10

Y/n’s go to after solo missions

Y/n will stumble into his office all tired and instead of pulling up a chair just plops on the floor and leans his head on Price’s leg

Price just plays with his hair while he finishes paper work

He’d be lying if he said his mind didn’t occasionally wander with how close Y/n was to his nether regions 😜

Gaz :

Trails Y/n like a puppy 🐶

I mean this boy hangs off his every word

If Y/n ever has to run an errand off the base you best believe Gaz will be going with him

Also looks up southern slang to understand Y/n better

Also listened to “F***** by a Country Boy” and couldn’t look Y/n in the eyes for a solid week

Always offers to help Y/n when he works out

Sometimes gets distracted when he’s spotting but no one can blame the poor boy

Acts of service is def his love language ❤️

Demands to know the names of every animal Y/n owns

Made a playlist of songs that Y/n mentioned he liked

Listens to it constantly

Likes to ‘help’ Y/n cook

Really just hands him stuff that Y/n asks for

Handles the spices the best out of any of them

When it’s just the two of them going out for whatever reason he’ll just grab onto Y/n somehow

Holding a hand, the hem of a jacket or shirt, or intertwining their arms

Y/n is happy to reciprocate

People will come up to Gaz while Y/n is distracted and compliment how cute of a couple they are

Just thanks them and doesn’t deny it ever

Sleeps in Y/n’s bed more then his own

Y/n will be working at his desk and Gaz will just wander in in and plop onto his bed to sleep

If Y/n takes to long Gaz will sigh loudly till he gets the hint

Always fights Soap for Y/n’s lap on movie nights

Besides Price he’s probably got the best sense of self control

He ain’t perfect though

Is Y/n isn’t watching him he is LOCKED ON

Always locked onto those cheeks 🥵

His mind does tend to wander

Y/n could ask Gaz to fake his death and run away with him and Gaz would do it in a heartbeat

[thedilfdiaries]

Italy ~ let go and let daddy

soft daddy!Joel x f!reader

Masterlist ♥︎ Soft Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 4,915

Summary: As your adventure begins, it becomes clear that Joel is determined to make this the best summer of your life.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, f oral receiving, lots of soft daddy stuff - like so much, use of 'baby girl, good girl, my girl, baby, daddy', reader has breasts and wears a dress, just Joel doting on you so so hard. The endinnnggggg 👀🤭

Notes: Hi friendinos! Thank you for waiting so patienly for this! I wish I could write them here forever so I could have them see more, but Joel has a short timeline to show reader the world, shining, shimmering, splendid.

Joel's song for this entire AU: To Be With You - Mr. Big

As you start your summer adventure headed to Italy, you can feel the excitement building up inside of you. You never expected that you'd be traveling the world let alone with an older man like Joel, a man you've only been seeing on and off for a short while, but as you think back to your time with him, you know that he's going to take care of you, and you can't wait to see what kind of adventures he has planned.

Joel's plane tickets are first class, and as you board the plane, you can't believe how luxurious everything is. You're immediately struck by the opulence of the interior. The plane is decorated in rich, warm tones, with plush leather seats and polished wood accents.

You notice the attentive service. The flight attendants welcome you aboard with warm smiles and promptly offer you a glass of champagne. You feel like you're dreaming. The most you've ever been offered on a normal flight is a packaged biscuit and half a can of cola.

As you settle into your seat, which feels like an entire room, you can't help but feel pampered. The seat itself is incredibly comfortable, with ample legroom and a built-in massage function that you take advantage of immediately. The entertainment system is state-of-the-art, with a wide selection of movies, TV shows, and music to choose from.

And just when you get settled, you're presented with a menu featuring dishes prepared by a Michelin-starred chef, complete with wine pairings selected by an expert sommelier. You opt for the seared scallops with cauliflower puree to start, followed by a tender filet mignon with truffle mashed potatoes.

Obviously the food is impeccably presented, and each bite is a symphony of flavors. You feel like you could get used to this. As the flight attendants clear away the food Joel suggests watching a movie together and after a brief disagreement about which one to choose, him wanting action, you wanting something a little less intense, he finally relents and decides on watching "The Notebook," a movie that he knows you love. However, he takes forever trying to line up the movie on his device so that it plays at the exact same time as yours.

"Come on, Joel. Just press play already," you say, giggling.

"Okay, okay. But I want to make sure we're synced up perfectly," he responds, trying to fix the timing one last time. “Okay press play on yours in -” he pauses to look over at your screen and then back at his, “in 5 seconds.”

“Yes sir.” You wink at him.

Finally, he presses play, and as the movie progresses, you find yourself getting lost in the story you laugh, you cry, and you even find yourself holding Joel's hand during the more emotional scenes. Joel is surprisingly engaged in the movie, laughing at all the right moments and making thoughtful comments about the characters and their motivations.

You can't help but feel a warm glow spreading through your chest as you listen to him. You've never felt this close to anyone before - not like this, at least. You find yourself getting lost in Joel's gaze, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way you can almost hear a southern twang when he laughs too hard.

He suddenly glances over, looking at you, his eyes are filled with warmth and tenderness. You feel a flutter in your chest, and you can't help but smile.

"What?" he asks, grinning.

"Nothing. I just... I'm happy,"

"Me too, darlin'. Me too," he says. "I'm glad you're here with me.”

"Me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Throughout the rest of the flight, you're constantly amazed by the level of service. The flight attendants anticipate your every need, making sure your glass is always full and your needs are met. Even the bathroom is luxurious, with plush towels and premium skincare products.

As you prepare to land, it's clear that Joel has pulled out all the stops to make this trip unforgettable.

When you arrive, Joel has arranged for a private car to take you to your destination and as you ride through the winding streets of Italy, you can't help but feel like you're in some kind of dream.

When you step out of the car, you're immediately struck by the beauty of the where youre staying. The architecture is a stunning blend of modern and traditional Italian styles, with intricate details and ornate accents that reflect the country's rich history. The grounds are immaculately maintained, with lush gardens, sprawling lawns, and a picturesque courtyard. As you enter the lobby, you're greeted by a warm, inviting atmosphere.

The hotel staff is impeccably attired, with friendly smiles and welcoming words. They escort you to the check-in desk, where you're presented with a chilled glass of prosecco and a warm, freshly baked cookie. The check-in process is seamless, and as Joel finishes with the receptionist, she provides you both with a detailed itinerary of the hotel's amenities and services.

-

After settling into your private villa, you can't help but marvel at the incredible space as you start to walk around. You've never seen a place so big. The living room is spacious and inviting, with plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace. The dining area features a table that can seat at least ten, with crystal china and silverware already laid out for your convenience. The bedroom is a true sanctuary, with a comfortable king-sized bed adorned with plush linens and pillows. A flat-screen TV hangs across from it on the wall. The ensuite bathroom has a deep soaking tub, a separate shower, and a dual vanity area and is stocked with luxurious bath products, including high-quality soaps and scented candles. And just as you think you've seen it all, you discover a fully equipped kitchen, a home office, and a private patio with an outdoor grill and dining area.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the private pool off the bedroom, which features a stunning infinity edge that seems to blend seamlessly into the ocean beyond.

After you spend some more time exploring the Villa, Joel interrupts you, leading you out to a separate balcony that overlooks the ocean and picturesque view. He stands behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist.

You both stand there enjoying the moment before you say something, “what a beautiful view, huh?”

But Joel's not paying attention to the view. He's studying you, how you look so surprised and happy. He never takes his eyes off you when he replies, “sure is darlin’, nothing more beautiful.” He pauses for a moment longer. “Now come with me." He grabs your hand and leads you to the massively oversized bed and helps you sit down on the edge. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, and you can tell that he's excited.

“Alright, close your eyes.”

You do as he says.

He quickly starts moving a small table in front of you and positioning boxes and bags onto it.

You hear the rustling of tissue paper and your curiosity peaks.

“Okay - open.”

Your jaw drops in amazement. In front of you are an array of beautifully wrapped boxes, each one perfectly tied with a satin ribbon. In addition, there are bags from some of the most exclusive designer stores in the world, Gucci, Prada, and Versace. Joel smiles at your reaction.

“Joel, this is too much, I -”

Joel interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "No, no, darlin'. It's not. I want you to have the best of everything. You deserve it. Just open ‘em, please." He says, almost desperate.

You look up at him a little unsure, before slowly getting off the bed like you're trying to be quiet.

“Here,” Joel intercepts with a box, he can still see your clear reservations about all of this.

You're overwhelmed by the sheer luxury of the items inside. There are designer dresses, shoes, handbags, and accessories, each one more beautiful than the last. You try on a few pieces, and they fit you perfectly, as if they were made just for you. But you can't help feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, you're overwhelmed by the generosity and thoughtfulness of Joel's gifts. You've never had anything this extravagant before, and you can't believe that someone would go to such lengths to make you feel special.

On the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that you don't deserve any of this. You've always been a simple girl, content with the basics, and never really needing much more. You've never been one to indulge in luxury, and the thought of wearing designer clothes and accessories makes you a little uneasy, like a fish out of water. But as you look up at Joel, you can see the joy and excitement in his eyes. He's clearly thrilled to be able to share this with you. You can't bring yourself to disappoint him. So you push your reservations aside and continue to try on the beautiful items, smiling and thanking him with each new gift.

"Joel, these are all so beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll wear them for me,"his eyes are sparkling with excitement. "I want to see you in all of these beautiful things. You deserve to feel as special and loved as you are, darlin'."

You can't help but be touched by Joel's words. You've never felt this seen or appreciated by anyone before. You take a deep breath and push your reservations aside once again. "Okay, I'll wear them for you," you say, smiling up at Joel. "I can't believe you did all of this for me."

“I can’t believe how damn good you look, baby.”

Joel's face lights up with each outfit change. He wants to help you try them on, but you force him to stay while you run in and out of the bathroom, piecing each option together.

As you try on the last item, a stunning designer gown that fits you like your fairy godmother had magically placed it on you, you stop to look at yourself in such disbelief that this is even happening. When you step out, Joel takes your hand and spins you around, looking you up and down.

"Better call NASA because you're out of this world, darlin." Joel's face is filled with admiration as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, just wow, takin’ my breath away. Can't wait to show you off."

You feel your body get warm with pleasure at his words. You've never felt this beautiful before. The dress really is stunning, and it makes you feel like a million bucks.

After trying on all of the beautiful clothing and accessories, you and Joel decide to head out for a romantic dinner at a local Italian restaurant. The food is delicious, and the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You can't help but feel grateful for this amazing experience and for the man sitting across from you. As the night wears on, you can see the exhaustion setting in on Joel's face. He's been going nonstop since you arrived, making sure every detail of your trip is perfect.

"Joel, why don't we head back to the hotel? You look exhausted," you suggest.

"I am a bit tired, darlin'. But I don't want the night to end just yet. How ‘bout we head back and I'll run you a bath?"

You can't help but feel a surge of love for this man. He's always taking care of you, always making sure you're happy and comfortable. "Only if you join me," you say, smiling at him.

“Wouldn't have it any other way.”

As you make your way back to the hotel, you can feel the tiredness setting in on your own body as well. The day has been a whirlwind of excitement and new experiences, and you're looking forward to a relaxing bath.

When you arrive back at the villa, Joel guides you to the bed. You sit on the edge, feeling the comforting pull of the bed beneath you. You're about to reach for your shoes, but Joel grabs your wrist and kneels down in front of you. “Let daddy take care of you.”

Joel starts to undress you slowly, taking his time to savor every moment. As he removes your shoes, he kisses your feet gently, causing you to giggle and squirm with delight. He then moves up to your legs, gently rolling down your stockings and kissing your thighs as he goes.

“You deserve to be taken care of, baby girl. You've had a long day, wanna make sure you're comfortable."

"Thank you, Daddy," you say, smiling down at him.

Joel's face lights up at your words. He stands up and takes your hand to help you to your feet, he turns you so your back is facing him and he slowly unzips the your dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he goes. The fabric slides off your shoulders, revealing your bare skin underneath. Joel can't help but let out a low whistle as he takes in your bare shoulders and the curve of your back.

"You're so beautiful, darlin',"

He helps you step out of the dress, carefully folding it and setting it aside. He then turns his attention back to you, slowly sliding your bra straps down your arms, and unclasping it in the back. Then he works your panties off. You feel a shiver of pleasure run down your spine as he undresses you. It's like he's worshipping your body.

Once you're completely naked, Joel helps you onto the bed, covering you with a soft blanket and tucking you in. He leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. "Be right back, darlin'. I'm gonna run you a bath and get everything ready," he murmurs.

You nod, feeling a sense of warmth and safety spreading through your chest. You snuggle deeper into the blankets, your mind drifting as you wait for Joel to return.

Joel returns carrying two flutes of champagne. He sets them down on the bedside table and then helps you up from the bed. He grabs the drinks, and you make your way to the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming hot water and scented bubbles. Candles flicker on the edges, casting a warm, inviting glow.

Joel holds your hand as you step into the tub, making sure you don't slip. Once you're settled in, he hands you a champagne flute. "For you, my love," he says, his eyes sparkling with affection.

The name catches you off guard. He's never called you something so - relationshipy. But you try not to think too much about that and take a sip of the champagne, feeling the bubbles dance on your tongue. It's the perfect complement to the warm, soothing water.

Joel joins you in the bathtub. He sits down behind you, his legs on either side of your body. He takes the washcloth and begins to gently wash your body, starting at your shoulders. His touch is tender and loving, and you can feel your body relax under his ministrations.

As he washes you, he praises you, telling you how beautiful and sexy you are. He tells you how much he loves your body and how much he loves being with you. His words are like a balm to your soul. He moves up to your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers. It feels so good that you can't help but let out a soft moan. Joel smiles. "That's it, darlin'. Let go and let daddy take care of you.” As he moves down and washes your neck, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your skin, causing you to shiver with pleasure.

"You like that, baby girl?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Yes, daddy, feels so good," you whisper.

Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He continues to wash you, moving down to your shoulders and arms. Massaging your muscles with the washcloth, helping to ease any tension or knots. His hands move down to your chest. He washes your breasts gently, taking care to avoid your nipples. You can feel your body responding to his touch, your breasts feeling sensitive.

"Daddy.." you moan, your voice filled with longing.

"I know, baby," Joel replies, his voice low and husky. "But, I want to take care of you first. You deserve to be pampered."

He moves down to your stomach and hips. He's meticulous and thorough, making sure to cover every inch of you. As he reaches your thighs, he pauses for a moment, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"Can I wash you here, darlin'?".

“Yes please.” You're so turned on that you can feel yourself trembling with anticipation. Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He washes you gently, his fingers exploring your folds with care.

His fingers keep rubbing over your clit again and again, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. "Daddy, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." you moan, unable to finish your sentence.

"Shhh s'okay," Joel replies, his voice soothing, as he kisses the top of your head. "I've got you baby."

With those words, you let yourself go, your body shuddering with pleasure. Joel holds you close, his free arm wrapped around you as he whispers into your ear as you come down from your high, “there's my good girl, always so good for me.”

As you come down from your orgasm, you can't help but feel a little embarrassed at how loudly you moaned. But Joel's gentle touch and soothing words help to put you at ease.

"You're so beautiful when you come, princess," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

—

As the water starts to cool, Joel helps you out of the tub and wraps you in a soft, fluffy towel and leads you to the bed, helping you to lie down on your back.

All you can do is let out a contented sigh as you relax into the bed.

"Does daddy need to take care of his baby?” he asks.

You nod, unable to speak. You're stuck in some kind of love haze, and all you feel is calm and euphoric.

"S'okay baby, you don't have to think about anything, just relax, let daddy do all the work.” He hums as he starts to massage your shoulders, working out any knots or tension that you might have. His strong hands move down your arms. You can feel your muscles melting beneath his fingers. As his hands move down to your chest, he pauses for a moment, "Can daddy play with your tits, baby?"

“Mhmm..” You lightly moan

He starts to massage your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples until they're hard and sensitive. You can feel yourself getting wetter with every touch.

As his hands move down to your hips and then your thighs, he finds your sensitive nub and starts to rub slow circles over the bundle of nerves. Your breathing becomes frantic, “Daddy need you inside me, I- fuck -”

"I know, I know, my princess, but first you gonna come all over daddy's fingers, arentcha? Dont worry m’gonna take real good care of this beautiful pussy."

Joel's fingers continue to work their magic, building you up to the brink of ecstasy once again. You can feel yourself getting close, your hips bucking against his hand as you chase your release. "That's it, baby," Joel murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let daddy make you feel good."

With a final thrust of his fingers, you come apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Joel holds you close, murmuring words of love and praise as you ride out the waves of pleasure. “Oh, I know, I know, I gotcha baby girl, you're okay daddy's here.”

When you finally come down from your high, Joel begins to kiss his way down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He pauses at your hips, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he looks up at you.

"You're so damn perfect, darlin'," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Daddy’s gonna have a lil snack now, okay?"

You nod your consent, your breath hitching in your throat as Joel's mouth descends on your clit. He licks and sucks, his tongue exploring every inch of you as you writhe beneath him. It's overwhelming, the sensation of his mouth on you, his fingers inside you, and you can feel yourself building up to another orgasm already.

"Daddy, I'm gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers threading through Joel's hair as you hold him close.

"Come for me, baby," Joel murmurs against your skin. "Soak daddy's face.”

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue, you come undone, your orgasm shuddering through you like an earthquake. Joel stays with you, his mouth on you as you buck around, until the last aftershock fades away.

When he finally pulls away, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only serves to heighten your desperation for him even more.

"Need to be inside you, darlin'," Joel growls. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."

“Please daddy, please.”

He gently caresses your cheeks with his large hands. The sensation feels similar to being in a sensory deprivation tank, making you feel calm and warm. His hands cradle your face like it's made of the most delicate china. “Shhh, baby, I'm here, m’gonna give you whatcha need,” he says before kissing the top of your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

He pulls away and positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he pushes inside, inch by inch. You're so wet, so ready for him, that he slides in easily, filling you up in a way that makes you feel like you're home.

Joel starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. You can feel the tension building up inside of you again, the coil of pleasure in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

"Daddy, I - I can't, gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers digging into Joel's shoulders. The feeling is incredibly overwhelming this time as Joel's rock hard cock fills your walls, it feels like he could break through and rip you to shreds.

"Yes baby, come for me," Joel growls, his thrusts getting faster, harder. "Come for daddy.” He never takes his eyes off you, “That's a good girl.”

As your orgasm crashes over you, you feel yourself clenching around Joel's cock, your walls pulsing in time with the waves of pleasure. Joel lets out a low growl as he feels you coming, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release.

"Fuck, darlin'," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you. "I'm gonna come, baby."

You can feel him swelling inside of you, his cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to the edge. With one final thrust, he comes undone, his release filling you up in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.

Joel collapses on top of you, his heavy weight making you feel warm and safe and secure. eventually, he shifts his weight, so he's beside you and wrapping you in his arms. "My princess," he murmurs, stroking your hair lovingly. You look up at him, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. His brown eyes gaze down at you.

Your hand reaches out, your fingertips running along the side of his face, his stubble scraping against your skin. Joel leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips inches from yours.

"Thank you," you say softly. You want to thank him for being there for you, for loving you unconditionally, for taking care of you, and giving you everything.

"There's nothin' to thank me for,” he replies tenderly. "I couldn't be happier than I am right now, havin' you in my arms."

You rest your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering closed. You're not sure how long you lie there, but eventually, you start to feel the pull of sleep. Your eyelids grow heavy, and your breathing evens out.

—

When you wake up, you're not sure how long you've been asleep, but you feel refreshed and energized. Joel is still lying beside you, his arm still wrapped around you.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Joel murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," you reply softly, turning to face him.

Joel's eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby," you reply, snuggling closer to him.

Joel's arms tighten around you, and you can feel his heart beating faster. "Good," he murmurs. "I have a surprise for you."

You look up at him, your curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise," Joel says, his eyes still closed. "But I think you're going to like it."

You wait patiently, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, Joel opens his eyes and sits up. "Come on, get dressed," he says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

You do as he says, slipping on a pair of jeans and a cute top. You're not sure what Joel has planned, but you're excited to find out.

When you're ready, Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the Villa. You follow him through the lobby and out onto the street. Joel leads you through the winding streets, pointing out different landmarks and telling you little stories about each one.

Eventually, you come to a small courtyard, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. In the center of the courtyard, there's a wall covered in locks, each one engraved with the names of two people.

"This is the wall of love locks," Joel says, his voice soft. "Couples come here to declare their love for each other, and then they throw away the key."

You look up at him, your eyes wide. "That's so romantic," you say, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Joel smiles at you, taking your hand. "I want to add our own lock to the wall, if that's okay with you."

You nod, your eyes filling with tears. "That would be amazing, I've always dreamed of seeing this. "You say, your voice thick with emotion.

Joel leads you over to the wall, and you pick out a lock together. You engrave your names on it, along with the date, and then you secure it to the wall.

As you throw away the key, you feel a sense of finality.

Joel's face breaks out into a wide smile, pulling you into a tight embrace. As you stand there, surrounded by the love of the people who came before you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease and happiness mixing together.

Eventually, you make your way back to the hotel. Joel pauses in the lobby, “Hey, you head up, princess, just need to check on something at the front desk.” he hands you the key card and watches you disappear into the elevator.

He walks up to the front desk, “hello Mr. Miller, how can I be of service?”

“Just checking in for a delivery, small box?”

“Ah, yes, it was just delivered. One moment, sir.”

The receptionist heads into a room behind the desk, not long before coming back out with a small box in their gloved hand.

Joel takes the small black box and opens it, staring at the stunning ring nestled inside. He knows that he's found something special with you, and he's not going to let it go. He's going to make sure that you have the best summer of your life, and he's going to make sure that you never forget him.

—

Thank you so much for reading! Where should they go next?

[julissart]

Attracting like a magnet 🧲

Thanks for voting for this pair, hope you like this doodle comic as much as me (if I told myself from 6 months ago this was a thing I wouldn't believe it)

Thanks for your comment @sampaisleyriot, maybe you will be interested to see this 👀

Since I don't have enough time and still limited writing ability, here's some headcanons of mine about this ship 🤭

Kidsopp headcanons

Things happen fast but at the same time feels kinda slow burn-ish in the few days the canon allowed it

Usopp fell first (oblivious to that info) but Kid fell harder (that man goes all out about everything)

Kid uses "wee lamb" for Usopp, at first just like a nickname but when the sniper narrates the story of Merry it gains a more deep meaning, later adding "my". Usopp decides to call him "rooi" when there's no tension and he feels silly, later becoming just "ro"

Kid sees a notebook where Usopp has designed some tattoos, Usopp ends up drawing on him almost everyday, Kid surprisingly lets him touch his scars and paint on them

Usopp put make-up on Kid just like himself in film red, Usopp gives him a pair of personal size headphones and Kid his older rounded goggles

Kid only teases Usopp because he likes the way the other reacts to everything, Usopp hopes this doesn't awake something on him (it will)

And for that Usopp thinks Kid is kinda of a player, but he's actually pretty loyal when he decides to be

First kiss was a drunk kiss, Usopp hit a dartboard with his eyes closed, Kid thought it was direct at him at first but then saw the bullseye, Usopp said he felt that it would be there at that moment (just casually using observation haki, no big deal, normal Usopp behavior right?)... After a few seconds Kid grabs him and smashes their lips together

Kid brings out of Usopp his bold and daring side, sometimes he not only feel braver but externalizes it more

Lightly jealous Luffy (not in the romantic way but in the "you're MY sniper" way)

Sanji and Zoro being overprotective after finding out he has been talking to Kid (oh boy he's in trouble)

My OP Fanart Masterlist 2025

[pombeom]

no escape from you | beomgyu fic (part 1)

pairings: enemies to ??, roommate! beomgyu x reader

warnings: suggestive content

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for days but i finally wrote it the way i want. might make this a series with smut in the next chapter so keep a lookout 👀 (not proof read)

You were the responsible one between you and your roommate. You always kept things clean, even picking up after his dirty dishes. But being his partner for a paired project was not what you signed up for. Gambling your grade and trying to work with him? Not a chance. 

When are you free? We really need to start our presentation! 

Your frantic spamming of texts went straight to delivered and were probably not going to be read for another 24 hours at least. You would think that being assigned to do a presentation with someone who was quite literally your roommate would be a breeze, but with Beomgyu never being around, the task seemed impossible. You hated the guts of this guy but you were willing to work through it for the sake of your grade. Well that’s only if he comes backs to your shared dorm before the end of the fucking day. Your sleep schedule awaits no one. 

Sat at the kitchen table, you spend the next 3 hours researching for parts of your presentation knowing that it’s probably be easier to start it off without Beomgyu. Scrolling through websites and watching videos on the topic, you write down the notes in your notebook but eventually, without meaning to, your eyes slam shut, falling alseep in your folded arms which rest on the table. 

A lock clicks as the door screeches open. At the early hours of the morning, you are awakened by your drunk roommate. You jolt your eyes open upon hearing the noise of his shoes, his footsteps uneven, indicating his intoxicated state. Anger bubbles in you as you turn sharply to face Beomgyu, giving him an intense glare which he meets with his half open eyes, appearing to be laughing at you. 

“Aww, did you wait up for me, sweetheart,” he taunts, knowing how much you hate the stupid nicknames he gives you on purpose. 

“No. In fact, I fell alseep trying to finish our fucking presentation which is due in fucking 2 days! Do you know how many times I called and texted?” Your tone came out harsh and direct which in some ways was exactly what you were going for but more so, you just wanted to get your point across. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I was out.” 

“I can see that. And stop calling me “sweetheart”. It sounds so fucking stupid. I have a name and that’s what I’d like to be called.”   

He inches closer to you, stumbling a little, grabbing onto your arms for support. His grip is gentle but firm, cautious to hold tight but not to hurt you.  

“Listen sweetheart, if you’re gonna yell at me at least do it when you’re not dressed like this. I can’t help but get a little turned on.” 

“Fuck you!” You turn a shade of crimson as you feel a sense of angry embarrassment. Your slip dress was short and the low cut did nothing but show off your cleavage to Beomgyu who towered over you, getting a clear view of your chest. 

“Well if that’s what you want, sweetheart. I’m down. But maybe tomorrow or something. I’m tired right now.” He smirks, saying goodbye with a two finger salute. 

With that, he makes his way to his own room, leaving you filled with a cloud of confusion and unease. He may have been joking but his words made your stomach flutter, carrying and intense heat throughout your body. 

I really need to go to bed. 

————————————————————————

Getting approximately 4 hours of sleep last night had you waking up on the wrong side of bed. You were cranky beyond help and your mood only depleted when you saw Beomgyu sitting at the kitchen table, munching away at his cereal. 

“Good morning sleepyhead, get a good night of rest?,” his remark was sarcastic, almost shaming you for your evidently tired appearance. 

“Beomgyu please. It’s too early in the morning to be arguing with you.” 

“As you wish.” 

You joined him at the table, grabbing yourself some fruit and toast and you both continued to eat in silence. The air was stiff as you could feel Beomgyu constantly looking up from his bowl to stare into your face whilst you desperately attempted to avoid looking in the same direction to prevent any accidental eye contact. 

Why was he being so intense today?

As you finish your last bite, a wave of relief washes over you as you quickly get up and head over to the sink, washing up your plate before you feel a presence behind you. Beomgyu’s chest came in direct contact with your back sending a flush of pink straight to your cheeks. You tried to move away but his arms caged you. You could hear his breath against your ear, leaving a tingling sensation on your sensitive skin. 

“You know my offer from last night still stands. If you’re up for it,” his whispers send you into a frenzy and you turn around faster than the speed of light almost challenging him as you look up to his face. 

“Listen to me Choi Beomgyu. You have no right to speak to me like that. Nothing of the sort will ever happen. Do. You. Understand?” Your voice was firm and confident, concealing any embarrassment you felt earlier. 

“Shit. That was kinda hot, sweetheart.” He places his hands over yours which had somehow made his way up his chest, grabbing ahold of his white t-shirt. “Now, we have a class to get to. Wouldn’t want to be late now would we?” 

The realisation struck harder than lightning as you jolt you eyes over to the clock, knowing you had a little over 7 minutes to make it to your class. If you ran. 

You push Beomgyu away and grab your bag and slip on your shoes by the door and dash out the door, without care for your roommate who was also in the same class. 

“Hey, wait for me!” His voice yells from behind you, almost catching up. 

“Beomgyu, I really don’t have the time for this right now. I’m gonna be late.” 

“I know a shortcut. Follow me.” He grabs ahold of your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction from the one you’re used to. What started off as speed walking had evolved into a sprint as you’re left huffing and puffing trying to match the strides of his long legs. 

Within minutes you arrive at the door of your lecture theatre, astounded that you made it on time. As you both walked in, still clutching hands, you quickly noticed the limited seats available. Almost every row was full apart from 2 seats on the furthest end of the 7th row on the left. 

“There,” Beomgyu points, upon identifying the seats, ”Guess we’re sitting together today.” He sounded rather pleased, the corners of his mouth lifting to display his smug expression. 

“Brilliant. Sooo excited,” you sneered, ensuring that the sarcasm in your tone was conveyed as you squeezed past the entire row, making your way to the end, as Beomgyu takes a seat to your right. 

“You better be, sweetheart.” 

[sleepingdeath-light]

laios touden + cat boy s/o smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; shadowsalone / pj simp anon (08/07/24)

fandom(s) ; dungeon meshi

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; laios touden

outline ; “dungeon meshi eh...?

General dating hcs and smut for Laios and perhaps a catboy!reader? 👀”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, dominant-leaning verse!laios touden, biting kink, marking kink, hand jobs, deep throating, public and semi-public sex acts, dirty talk

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

laios is a switch with a barely noticeable dominant lean, but generally speaking he’s happy to take on whatever role you want him to — i.e. if you want him to dominate you then he’ll use his size and strength to hold you in place as he fucks you stupid and showers you in just enough praise to remind you that he’s in love with you, and if you want to dominate him then he’ll lay back and let you do whatever you want to him with a trusting smile and an unwavering desire to make you feel good however he’s able

(how sweet!)

he’s also pretty damn versatile and is always happy to experiment with new positions with you… that being said he does have his favourites. when he’s topping he prefers to have you in full nelson, doggy, or mating press. and when he’s bottoming he enjoys riding you or fucking in missionary.

his marking kink isn’t the most conventional in that he finds the marks you leave on him to be extremely interesting and will spend hours staring at them in the mirror and recreating them in his notebook if left to his own devices. the scratches on his back and shoulders, the bite marks on his thighs and stomach and neck, the hickeys smattered all over his body — all of them are reminders of your more animalistic side and, naturally, he really fucking loves them and wants to preserve them as best he reasonably can

laios loves it when you bite him — especially if you bite him on the softer parts of his body like his stomach, chest, or ass — and lets out the lowest groans and moans when you do so

he’s incredibly curious about your biology and, more specifically, how your beast-like traits impact your sexual sensitivity. this means that he’s incredibly touchy during foreplay and sex, barely able to keep his hands in one place for more than a few moments at a time as he alternates between touching your ears and your tail with different rhythms, pressure, and so on just to try and figure out what feels best for you — though sometimes he can get very carried away which, depending on your preferences, can lead to you either getting sent spiralling into a very pleasant and fuzzy sort of sub-space or can lead to you becoming a bit too overstimulated for comfort and unable to focus on what’s actually going on

always tries to take you as far back into his throat as he can when he goes down on you, which means that over the course of your relationship he’s able to basically train out his own gag reflex — he’s nothing if not determined, after all

has no qualms about being sexually intimate in public or semi-public settings (as long as you’re not, say, sucking his cock or giving him a hand job right in front of any of the party members), but beware that laios has a terrible poker face and the second anyone looks at you they’ll pick up on exactly what you’re doing… so… yeah… engage at your own risk

(or just ask him to pleasure you instead and return the favour when you’re able to slip away to somewhere more private)

he talks a lot during sex, like you will not be able to get him to shut up unless you gag him with something, and a lot of what he says is dirty without him intending for it to come across that way — like very straightforward comments about how different your cock feels to a normal tallman and how much he enjoys it, or about how he can tell when you’re close because you start doing that thing with your face followed by him reaching down to jerk you off to completion, or other similarly blunt statements like that — but at least he’s gotten past the stage of stopping (sometimes even mid-thrust) to grab his notebook and write down something new he’s noticed about you… small wins

(though he does still, very occasionally, stop during sex to ask you whatever question just popped into his head — which can, and has, led to some objectively hilarious if somewhat frustrating situations in the past but you wouldn’t trade them or him for the world)

laios loves looking at you, so the best way to tease him is to tie him up and touch yourself while he watches — it’s the most beautiful form of torture he’ll ever experience and he’ll love every second of it

[chaeyoei]

Hello :3 ,I had an idea while staying up late (it's 3am) and I was remembering school and so on, so I'm curious if you could write about HSR characters in school (as usual I want Blade and Aventurine;) and other characters if they're male or female (Kafka pls..) And how they act with the reader

All in all, have a good day/night (Any time.)

👀 we'll settle some things down then. Gender Neutral. These are personal opinions and my creative juices aren't flowing well.

Blade

Blade borderlines between Class delinquent and Bunker.

Blade was an A grade student but something happened and he lost all motivation and became who is he now.

You can expect school bully traits from him. He and his group are always in detention. It's become a daily basis.

His interaction with you would really just be him not acknowledging you or if you're close to him, he'll share his lunch with you.

Sliver Wolf

Sliver Wolf is the Kid who's going to be developing obbies in Roblox and just be a champion in digital games.

She's going to bunk classes and just grafiti the school wall.

If you ever see the username ChampionSliverWolf_0 in your game, just know that you're losing your one game streak.

She'd call you loser if you're really bad at games (me), and if you make for a good opponents, just expect from her to come up to you and go "Game night at 5 pal" And then leave.

Kafka

Makima Charm with Monkia's manipulation.

You know this woman is going to make you question your sexuality. She just has that charm. The one girl who's locker would be filled with love letters and roses.

If you ask anyone what they think she'd be in the future, 99 out of 100, you're going to hear model.

I think that her and Blade would be friends which nobody expected to happen but she would give her notes to Blade and in return Blade would protect her from the creeps. (No ship.)

Kafka would either be that one girl you can ask on how to charm your crush and she'll give you tips for some credits ofc.

Firefly

That one silent and shy girl that can kick ass and give you nasty looks if you bully her or her friends.

She's a goodey two shoes but she'd break rules for her friends.

I'd like to think she has a condition that limits her to have a few friends.

But I think she and Silver Wolf would get along pretty well. Silver Wolf would host a slumber party and invite Firefly, they play Mario kart and monopoly, munch on Cheetos and fall asleep.

Firefly, if you're a good friend would remain lighthearted and shy infront of you but boy if anyone ever bullies you, she's going to kick some ass.

Aventurine

That one kid who already has a business running. Need a pen? That'd be 10 credits, a new notebook? 25 credits. Gum? 5 credits.

He's really popular too. Heck he's somehow friends with the topper Ratio.

i think he'd be a shameless flirt. He'd have those right lines and rizz you up like it's nobody's business.

Herta

The Academic weapon. Doesn't even attend the class, shows up in the finals and scores the best with full marks and nobody knows who she even is.

honestly, nothing. She's not even attending. You either don't know her or do.

Robin

The popular girl who'd help you do your make up and is just nice. There's a chance that my Seele can crit more than the chance of anyone disliking her on planet Earth.

The most active and the lead of the choir.

She'd help you in everything, whether it'd be studies or getting you into a group.

Drabble and no long paragraph because my creative spirits have betrayed me like Dan Heng IL not coming home after I spent everything on him.

[reddtulips]

you wanted requests 👀 how about an overworked price being forced gently coaxed by the 141 into taking a day off? all of them or a member of your choosing. he tries to order them to back off as their captain and for the first time gets a sarcastic "yeah right" look in return.

wholesome/domestic/sexual however you wanna take this. go wild

i just think he needs a break

yelling at the top of my lungs for price to go on a vacation and take an 80 hour nap and just eat citrus fruit

Captain John Price x the rest of task force 141 (mostly John “Soap” MacTavish)

Price has just gotten back from a mission, casualties and hostages and yelling until his voice is hoarse and flying bullets whizzing past his head galore, and no matter how much he tries to relax his breathing, he simply can’t.

His chest feels tight, his shoulders ache with every move and the food in the mess hall is actual slop, which just sours his mood even more.

It takes him forever to get through the paperwork for the mission, and the second he writes his last signature of the day, he exhales heavily. Even the squeaky chair he’s sitting on is annoying the living hell out of him. He feels like breaking it with his bare hands.

Exhaustion washes over him. He pushes the papers aside, files and pens and an open notebook with notes as well and rests his arms and head on the table. He just needs five minutes. Five minutes of interrupted down time and he’ll get right back up and phone Laswell and see if there’s any new info from the mission.

The door to his office creaks open. Price raises his head, high on alert, but relaxed a smidge when his eyes meet Johnny’s blue ones. He’s carrying a mandarin; is slowly starting to peel it.

“Been lookin’ fer ye, Price,” Johnny says. There’s no formalities or a sense of authority with them anymore. Price only pulls rank when Johnny’s being bat shit crazy on the field, and does it to save the sergeant’s life.

“You’ve found me,” Price mutters. His body feels too heavy to lift from the table. “Can’t say in what shape, though.”

“Better shape than most of those bastards from today, I’ll say that.”

All of the shadows from the mission were KIA and only three of their own soldiers were wounded and in medical right now.

Johnny grins, approaches the desk and looks like an apex predator under the dim light of Price’s floor lamp. Price gets a whiff of the citrusy mandarin, feels saliva forming in his mouth and swallows. Johnny, ever the observer, offers half to his captain.

Price takes it. Their fingers brush, and Johnny feels the buzz of electricity he can never seem to get used to. Johnny takes in his captain’s appearance. His hair is messy and his eyebags are darker and sit further down his cheeks than usual. There’s a small haziness in his eyes and Johnny thinks he could take on his captain right here and now and win without too much of a fight. That scenario looks very very wrong in his head.

“You feelin’ aright?”

“Never felt better, sergeant.” Price lies through his teeth and finishes the rest of his mandarin. The juice is sweet and sour at the same time and refreshes his mind there must be some magic in them. “D’you need anything or do I have to assign you recruit training for the next two months?”

“I’m just lookin’ out for my captain, is all,” Johnny says, raising his arms in defense. “Ye’ve been cooped up 'ere a lot. . . at base. We miss ye at home.”

Ah. Home. Price blinks, then blinks again. He looks up at Soap, sees his lips are pulled into a thin line.

“Soap,” he says, “get the hell out of my office.” the words come out and they sound like a deep sigh from the bottom of his lungs. He can’t deal with this. Not right now. Because he knows. He knows he’s been at base more than home with his boys. And he misses them as well but he has a job to do and he can’t let anyone down. Especially when life or death is at stake.

Price rubs at his eyes, drags his hands down to his beard. It does little to wake him up.

“Ye need a break, sir,” johnny says. “Somewhere on a beach and with 10 ice-cold beers waitin’ in a cooler.”

Price chuckles. “Tempting as that may sound, sergeant, I have too much shit to do here. I'm waiting on Laswell to send me some intel about the mission.”

“I can help.” Soap crosses his arms. Lifts one leg and sits with half of his ass hanging from the edge of Price's desk. Price appreciates the new view of Johnny's bicep, the floor lamp making his tan skin glow.

“I'm listening.” Price raises an eyebrow, sits back in his chair and intertwines his fingers.

“I'll do yer paperwork.”

“No,” Price replies immediately. Beautiful biceps, your charms will not work today.

“I can forge yer signature.” Soap grins and a wolf stares at Price then.

Price huffs a laugh. He’s not surprised to hear that and he fully believes the sergeant’s words.

“Get out, Soap,” Price says, a quirk to his lips. He thinks for a moment when he sees the shaved parts of Johnny's head are sprouting hair again. He needs a trim. "I'll be home tonight. Ask Gaz if he can make that lava cake we all like. The one we ate. . ." It's been so long he can't even remember the last time they ate the dessert.

"A month ago?" Soap supplies, shoving the fact into his captain's face.

Price closes his eyes. Has it really been that long?

At the look on Price's defeated face, Soap leans across the desk, captures his captain's chin between his fingers and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Come home tonight."

Another kiss, slow and deep.

"I said, I will." Price pulls away to murmur. His body burns with guilt and lust. He's made his boys sad and worried and that's the last thing he wants. What he does want is Johnny's pliable body underneath him and Gaz's warm mouth over his cock and Simon's thick thighs underneath his ass.

"Ye've been sayin' that for the past week." Johnny shakes his head. Price can't remember the last time he had a conversation like this with him.

His cock is already half hard from three long kisses and a gentle hand against his cheek and he realizes he can't put his work above his boys any longer.

"I'll be home tonight, love. I promise."

Price pulls Soap down for another kiss that nearly ends up with them tearing each other's clothes off and Price railing Johnny into the desk, and he would give a single fuck about being loud or the rickety old table squeaking and giving them away. Soap is the one who pulls away first, eyes hazy and pupils blown wide and lips soft and puffy. He looks like a fucking dream.

Johnny begrudgingly leaves Price’s office when he’s being practically pushed out the door. He has a hard on in his pants and the peel of the mandarin is held tightly in his gloved hand. I promise, I promise, I promise.

The words are whispered into the crook of his neck that night, Price rocking into him while he’s gasping and moaning over the words sir, yes, fu-ah-fuck, ah, a-ah, ah, missed ye s’much. Ghost and Gaz’s brains are practically melted at this point, but they watch Johnny as his eyes roll back into his head and his cock spurts come in streams all over his toned stomach.

Price cums a few thrusts later, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. His boys are sated, he feels the tension in his shoulders and back slowly leave him in waves as the last of his orgasm washes over him.

They wash up, change the sheets and when they lie back down on the bed, he’s in the center. Soap, Ghost and Gaz curl up together with their captain, and they make Price promise he will take at least a few days off, because the house just doesn’t feel the same without all four members in it.

—————

a/n: I’m so incredibly sorry this took so long but I had so much shit to do last week and I rewrote this twice and I still don’t know if I’m happy with it or not, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy :’)

[eldritch-spouse]

I'm very curious about Nebul's training sessions, maybe at the start when he just gets his pearl or something more advanced, but I would love to read that scenario and his techniques, maybd something like a diary entry from the start to a more obedient pet/pearl 👀✨️🙏

-🍵🪶

Not sure if I asked this before, if so please ignore♡

[You find a leather-cover notebook and flip to two random pages.]

I have reason to believe great progress has been made.

It is never ideal to starve a human, for a plethora of reasons I don't have time to detail right now, but deprivation is often more effective than pain to instill dependence. Had she resisted for another day, I would have to resort to much more traumatic means. Again.

The process has not been easy, her nature is deceitful, where one might think she would fawn, she fights. I'll fix this, carefully. Her potential is magnificent, I could never afford to fail.

Today, her instincts surpassed her will.

I felt the swell of misery within her mind when hunger drove her to beautiful obedience. She crawled, cold and desperate, despairing, towards my outstretched hand. That morning, she ate from my palms, naked and afraid. It reminded me of the strays I used to cater to long, long ago.

She did not lean into my praise, but she accepted it silently.

There has been a setback, much to my displeasure. Though my mood is not entirely ruined.

Although she has excelled in many of my tests, some manner of impulse drove her to snatch the keys to the elevator. I'm not exactly sure of the moment in which she did this, but their absence didn't escape me. Considering she has not yet earned the privilege of convenient coverings and her reach of this floor is limited after a certain amount of time, I will have to prod her mind for whatever excuse of an escape plan she had concocted.

She must rest right now however.

For I gave her exactly what she craved. To be rid of me. Dimwitted animals must learn things the hard way, which is why she was free to explore the bowels of The Clergy's Eye on her own tonight. With the cooperation of my coworkers, Pearl spent hours on plenty of the floors, dragged into whatever shenanigans they please. When I checked on her in Morell's care, I could almost taste the terror in her sickly complexion as she was guided to remove the eyes and tongue of a kitchen pig.

I can only imagine what Vinnel had her participate in, or whatever clinical abomination of a task Patches tossed her into.

She came back to me in the ideal state. Mildly dissociated, weakened, recognizing me as her sole source of comfort and familiarity.

Of course, there was still my part to be done, though the psychological part of this lesson had been achieved, I wanted her to retain physical reminders of her failure, so an impact session was initiated. Just the right conditions gathered for a wonderful result, and at some point, through her tears and sobbed whimpers, she had grown wet.

Usually, this breakthrough isn't achieved directly after such intense episodes of punishment, but I am nonetheless very delighted. Although many opt to ignore it, pleasure is also a magnificent teacher.

It wasn't hard to bring such an overwhelmed body to orgasm, I held her through quivering legs and spasming pulses, the sound of her garbled apologies is still causing me to stiffen sporadically and it has been hours since she lay resting.

[cameronspecial]

https://www.tumblr.com/cameronspecial/730937552404627456/let-me-protect-you-angel

can you tell use more about rafe’s rules for the reader, pls and thank you lol 👀

— @cantstoptheimagines

Let Me Save You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Uncomfortable Because of A Pervy Misogynist

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is a continuation of Let Me Protect You, Angel.

Masterlist

Some of Y/N’s favourite rules for being Rafe’s girlfriend are the ones that show her that he cares. She didn’t need to look at the napkin anymore to remember which rule was which number because she had them all memorized since they wrote them down on that napkin during their first date. Numbers Five and Six often happen in tandem and show Rafe’s caring side. She hasn’t seen Rafe in almost five days, which is quite obvious to the whole campus as Rafe always gets more on edge when he doesn’t see her. However, she finally gets to see him again and follows Rule Number Six. The door to Rafe’s room has a code, which beeps its little song as she punches in her birthday. 

Her thoughts are focused on taking her stuff out of her backpack, so she is genuinely surprised by Rafe’s arms wrapping around her waist. “I’m so glad you could come over tonight, Angel. I was scared we were going to break our streak,” he declares, pressing his nose against the skin of her neck. She brings her hands up to wrap them around his neck and looks up at him, “It would be a shame. I’ve slept over at least once a week since we started dating. That’s a hundred and four-week streak.” Rule Number Six: Sleepover in Rafe’s room once per week whenever possible. 

He moves them over to lie down on his bed with his head resting on her breasts. She can feel his soft breath on her skin as he talks. “Rule Number Five, Angel.” She draws patterns on his back, letting out a big sigh, “It was stressful. I had a lab and I couldn’t find my notebook with all my notes for this week’s experiment. And then I got caught up in the cafeteria line at lunch so I was late for my meeting with my academic advisor. This whole week has been so busy.” She feels his fingers start to trace tiny hearts on her bicep. “I’m sorry things have been so hard and I couldn’t be there for you, Angel. I hate that I had to go away for my football game,” he grumbles. The fact that his mouth is pressed against her skin turns his words into raspberries and it makes them both laugh.

“It’s okay, I’ve been pretty busy, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to come over anyway. How was your day, Rafe?”

“It was okay. Same as always. The only eventful thing that happened was that Topper accidentally wore my underwear. That was weird. But it got so much better when you walked through the door though, Angel.”

“My day got better when I walked through the door too.”

He lifts his head and gives her a sweet kiss on the lips. Rule Number Five: Always tell each other how your day went, no lying. Even if it has to be over the phone, through a text, in an email or in a written letter. 

——

Y/N remembers how ridiculous she thought Rule Number One was when Rafe wrote it down on the napkin. “Come on, that’s never going to happen,” she proclaimed, tilting her head upright after reading the words. Rafe shook his head, underlining a specific word of the rule, “You don’t know that. And, god forbid if it does, then I want you to let me save you, Angel.” She could see he was serious and concerned about the possibility of something happening, so all she could give him was a nod as a promise.

Right now, she could not be more glad that her boyfriend is always thinking ahead on how to protect her. She didn’t know how she got into this situation. One minute, she was by herself in the lab looking over the work she did for this week's experiment and the next, Terrick was in the room with her. He has every right to be in the room; he is also in her class and pays for tuition. However, she always feels a little unsettled by him. The way he looks at her makes it obvious he is objectifying her. The way he speaks makes it clear that he was not taught to respect women. The way he stands too close to her makes her stomach drop. She wants to walk out of the lab right now so she isn’t alone with him, but he is blocking the doorway. “And the bitch got my name wrong too. Like sure, get my order and my name wrong,” he starts ranting. “I don’t understand how a girl can screw up my drink order. Aren’t you guys made to do that type of stuff?”

Y/N doesn’t know what to say. His frustration at something so trivial causes fear to flash through her and she is scared of what might happen if she tries to leave the room. Thankfully, as if Rafe had spider senses, she gets a call from him. She gently lifts a finger up to tell Terrick to give her a second, “Hi, Rafe. What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I was just wondering what you wanted me to bring over tonight. I’m at the store, right now,” Rafe asks, placing his pre-workout into his cart while his phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear. Y/N flashes Terrick a tight-lipped smile as he impatiently waits for her to get off the phone, “I’m actually craving some pie. Could you get me a coconut pie?” Rafe immediately stops what he is doing and moves his phone to his other ear. “Are you sure you want coconut?” he presses, already returning the stuff he was going to get onto the shelf. 

“Yes.”

—— 

They stayed on the phone for the whole time it took Rafe to get back on campus, pretending that he needed a detailed account of every single item Y/N needed from the store. When he walks through the door, Y/N feels her heart rate start to slow down. “What are you doing here?” Terrick snides through his teeth, looking at her boyfriend in annoyance. Rafe immediately puts himself between Y/N and the other man, “I realized that I am so clueless that I need Y/N to come to the store with me, so I came to pick her up. Are you ready to go, Angel?” The last part is obviously directed toward her and she is quick to get her backpack so she can weasel her way under Rafe’s protective arm. “Yep. Bye, Terrick. Great talk.” 

The couple makes their exit in each other’s hold with Rafe keeping an eye on Terrick. Once they are out of his earshot, Y/N lets out a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” Rafe worries, looking her over for any indications that Terrick touched her. She gives a small nod, “Yeah, he didn’t hurt me. I don’t think he was going to. I’m sorry I used the code word, I probably shouldn’t have if I didn’t think he was going to do anything.” He stops their journey towards the exit and swings himself so he is facing her. His hands find weight on her shoulders and he lifts her chin up to look him in the eyes. “I don’t care if you use the code word for me to come kill a spider. If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable or scared, you tell me coconut pie and you let me save you, Angel. Do you understand?” he brings her into a hug and kisses her temple. “You have to trust your instinct. Your safety is my number one priority.”

Rule Number One: Say coconut pie if she needs Rafe to save her.