#Lacking on taste and protein in his eyes

[masquenoire]

OOC//What about foods he doesn’t like? Is he picky or will he eat something even if he doesn’t enjoy it?

Roman has a pretty balanced sense of taste. He ate a wide variety of food growing up as a child and was exposed to exotic dishes on a regular basis, meaning that while there are some things he doesn’t like very much, he’ll eat them if he has to. He IS picky however; his dishes must be made with quality, fresh ingredients so cheap food pumped full of sugars and additives isn’t something he’s going to like. Arkham is notorious for this, cutting corners by serving sub-par meals as so not to go over budget and Roman will refuse to eat for days upon coming back, hating the poor quality, lukewarm meals he barely considers fit for pigs, let alone human beings. Nobody has a fun time when Roman gets hauled back to Arkham Asylum, least of all when he’s hangry so staff tend to look the other way when he bribes employees to bring food from outside premises.

[ode2rin]

all my flaws

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. post-argument fluff | suggestive themes | established relationship | new boyfriend!rin 

content/warnings. 2k+ wc | characters are in their 20s ! | pro-athlete!rin | making out | narration heavy! | profanity | minimal proofread (me and my word vomit) | it’s like a new installment of this rin

in which: people say new relationships supposedly need a breakthrough fight to level up, but rin swears he would rather go through hell than do this again.

Your first fight as a couple freaked Rin out, even though he appeared stoic during the argument.

In the heat of the moment, Rin abruptly left your apartment, not uttering a word. Instead, he left you with a lingering glance filled with apathy—a look he'd never cast upon you before. His eyes turned void once again, when you were just getting used to it being bright and free.

What began as a simple disagreement, like any other couple's quarrel, escalated into rhetorical questions, accusing tones, and suddenly, it was him against you.

Silently, he rose from his seat, walked to the door, and vanished like a shadow that had never existed. To Rin, it felt like the right thing to do. You can't leave him if he does it first, he convinced himself. A twisted logic, fueled by emotions creeping from his past.

Yet apparently, his logic seems to be in total shambles when mixed and driven by emotions concerning you, because ten minutes later down the road, he wanted nothing more but to turn the car around.

Even so, in Rin’s true self-sabotaging fashion, he refrained. Because he’s awful, selfish, and couldn’t even fix insignificant arguments like a normal person would. Convinced of his own flaws, he believed you shouldn’t be with him— shouldn’t give him that chance after all.

The next thing he knew, the ten minutes he could’ve made to retreat back and apologize turned into 27 hours and 48 minutes of misery, spent in non-speaking terms with you.

It sucks. Everything sucks.

That night, he slept in his own bed. The next day, the in denial and emotionally constipated side of him made himself believe that the expensive yet seemingly useless mattress felt responsible for the raging tension in his shoulders and back. Of course it wasn't because of the absence of your messages or the unfamiliarity of his own bed. Of course, it’s the bed’s fault.

Life isn’t what it used to be. The sun didn't shine properly if it didn't come through the window of your room he spent the night in, his usual protein drink tasted like absolute shit because you didn’t make it for him, and not to mention the lack of cuddles before he gets up in the morning— it was bound to be the worst day of his life ever since you happened.

To make things even worse, he’s disassociating in practice, even missing a goal making everyone stop in their tracks. It was an unusual sight, Itoshi Rin doesn’t miss, after all. 

He was acting so gloomy that Bachira even pointed out how there’s a storm cloud looming over his head. A statement that earned a curt ‘fuck off, bobcut’ from the striker.

Meanwhile, Isagi took a more rational approach of expressing his concern toward his friend’s atypical behavior by taking out his phone and sending you a message.

Isagi: Did something happen between you and Rin? He's being tenfold more insufferable. [1:13 pm] Isagi: Please do something about this. - Chigiri [1:15 pm]

On the receiving end of these messages, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that you felt a peculiar sense of relief, knowing Rin was grappling with the same turmoil after he left.

You'd had your share of arguments before—petty disagreements that were easier to fix due to forced proximity. It was simpler when you were obligated to walk together on the way home from school; otherwise, he would stand in the same spot outside your classroom if you decided to be petty and ignore him. Annoyed but still caring, he insisted on confirming you got home safely, reasoning that your houses were next to each other.

Rin was still hard-headed, much like all these years. A testament to this was his silence over the past 24 hours.

Reading Isagi’s text messages once more, you let out a sigh and made up your mind – you will force him to fix things with you. You will express your displeasure at his abrupt departure, insist he not repeat it if he wants to do this right with you, and convey that it should always be the two of you against any problem.

It might be a blow to your pride to give in first, but it is what the two of you needed. It is what he needed. 

It just happened that you loved that man enough to provide what he needed, despite all flaws.

A day of missing you must have driven him to hallucinate, Rin concludes. You, perched on his couch, delicately peeling oranges and chuckling at a whimsical show on the screen, are just a hallucination.

“You’re home.”

And would you look at that, hallucinations even speak.

From your vantage point, Rin looks like he's seen a ghost greeting him with his unblinking teal orbs and brows slightly arching upwards. You notice the subtle tightening of his grip on the strap of his gym bag as he takes measured steps towards you, as though cautiously approaching a dream he fears might dissipate.

“Rin?” you whisper in confusion. It was meek, barely a whisper of his name, yet it was all that he needed to close the gap between you in mere seconds.

You gape at him from how determined his strides were. Surprise is instantly replaced by warmth as your lover basically throws himself over you for a well-sought embrace the moment you're within his arms’ reach.

You’re real, and you’re here.

And he can’t even begin to tell you how much tension finally left his body with that realization.

“I thought…” he trails off, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

As shallow as one might say, each passing hour of being away from you has fully convinced Rin that it might have been the end to what the two of you had.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you whisper softly in his ear, your fingers finding solace in the familiar texture of Rin’s hair, tenderly tracing paths down to his nape. Rin responds with a gentle kiss along the side of your neck, a silent affirmation of his gratitude for the comforting gesture.

Unspoken sentiments hang in the air, but neither of you feels the need to verbalize them just yet. The minutes stretch, and you both savor each other’s warmth that has been sorely missed.

As minutes gracefully slipped away, you initiated the release from his embrace, much to his chagrin. Rin openly displayed his disapproval by gently yet firmly wrapping his arms around you. But you were resolute in your purpose and slightly pushed him back.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, holding his face to look at you.

“No.”

“I’ll make you some food, then. Stay here.”

Before your intentions could take you to the kitchen, Rin pulled you back making you fall back to his lap. “don’t want you to go,” he confessed.

“But dinner–”

“No.”

“No? You don’t want to eat?”

“No,” he firmly replied, “Later. I want to hold you first.”

You didn’t respond to Rin, and just took it upon yourself to make yourself more accessible for him to hold by facing him while still seated in his lap. The shift in position sent a shiver of anticipation through both of you, and Rin, consumed by the moment, reveled in the exquisite sensation of your body pressed closely against his.

Slowly, his fingers reached the side of your jaw, tracing and guiding you closer to meet him halfway. With closed eyes, you felt his lips approaching, delicately and purposefully, until his lips were a breath away from yours. The distance between your lips diminished as Rin closed in, capturing your mouth in a sweet, lingering surrender. 

Rin’s strong hands explored every inch of you it could reach. You felt his touch on your neck, shoulders, down to your thighs. The teasing fingers paid extra attention to your waist, their grip subtly teasing the hem of your shirt. You melt into him more when you feel said teasing hands slide inside.

He was everywhere— your mind, your body, your very soul. Rin had them well occupied with all of him.

A soft gasp escapes you when he nips the familiar spot on your neck just below your ear, each kiss that follows tracing a path to your collarbones. Another gasp, louder this time, as Rin gently sucked the skin beneath your collarbones, mending the sweet sting with his feather-light kisses.

It was getting harder to think when a feeling of desire ran from your chest down toward your inner thigh from how impossibly hot Rin’s lips were consuming you.

And just when you thought he had had enough of you, Rin’s hand once again cradled your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his. Shivers danced down your spine as you absorbed the sight of his half-lidded, glossy teal eyes.

“I need you, baby,” he breathed, “please.”

It seemed as though there was a lot to make up for in the past twenty-four hours that he couldn't hold you.

You stirred from your sleep to the sensation of lingering kisses scattered from your forehead down to your jaw.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you found your lover gazing at you with those bright and free teal eyes, and you swore you never had a better way to start the day than this.

A smile graced your lips as you prepared to reciprocate the affection, intending to reach for him and plant a kiss on his jaw. However, your gesture was momentarily halted by his unexpected outburst.

“I love you.”

Professing to you used to terrify Rin – it used to knock all the air from his lungs and make the room seem so small. Now, with a few years ahead to gather enough backbone to escape the misery of pining, professing to you— loving you, felt as easy and natural as breathing.

And he hoped, with every beat of his heart against yours, that he would be breathing just fine in the many years to come.

“I love you,” he tells you again. Just for good measure, to ensure you heard him right, and just to make sure you know he does love you.

You heard him well. His words were clear enough, and the rapid beating of his heart against yours was loud enough to attest.

“Say it back, please,” he pleaded against the soft skin of your neck.

“I love you, Rin.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

He offered no verbal response, but a palpable sigh of relief emanated from him. For a man of few words, he sure does need a lot to feel better.

His warm breath lingered on your skin as a brief silence enveloped you both. Then, with a deliberate yet gentle gesture, he gathered both your arms, placing them above his shoulders, and pulled you closer by your thigh, guiding it above his own.

He loved holding you this way. He wasn’t a big believer, but he wondered if this, right here, was the closest he would ever come to heaven.

“But we have to unlearn those bad habits, Rin,” you asserted, your voice carrying a firm resolve, “No more leaving. We will sit through it, and we will talk, baby.”

Rin’s arms around your waist tightened, as if silently acknowledging your words. You knew he was listening— Rin could be hard headed and all, but he always listened. To you, and only you, that is. 

Minutes passed in silent communion, the world outside fading away as you and Rin held each other. Eventually, drowsiness began to cast its gentle veil over your senses. You couldn't tell if Rin had fallen asleep because his face was buried in the curve of your neck, hiding away in your scent. Yet, the soft and steady rhythm of his breath made you think so.

As you closed your eyes, allowing the realm of dreams to envelop you, Rin’s voice, muffled and quiet, broke the silence.

“Are we going to be fine?”

Barely audible, his question carried a hint of hesitation. And perhaps, if you listen a little closer, you could almost hear the 11-year-old Rin behind his lucid words.

Lucky for him, you had known that little boy throughout your life, enough to love him just as he needed, despite all flaws.

“We will be.”

note. hi, my life ain't life-ing lately soooo here !! i hope all of you are fine and having a blast. but if you aren’t, i’m sending you all of my love. we’ll have better days ahead, trust 🤞🏻

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult pt. 2

Hi. So this is part 2 to I am an adult. I already had an idea that I wanted to do another part but thank you to the Anon who gave me a good idea for it. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

TW: Angst

Word Count: 4k

Description: R realises she might not be as adult as she things she is

Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks after they came to your house. They calmed down, and you calmed down. It was great. But something felt … off. They stopped treating you like a child. Which is what you wanted, right? You had asked for this. You had asked them to stop policing your actions and criticising you. You wanted this. Then why did it feel so wrong?

You didn't go crazy; you continued your life as it always had been; movie nights with Patri, dinner with Pina, coffee with Ona. Everything was totally and completely normal. Except you no longer came home to text messages asking about your location or concerns over your safety. You no longer had Lucy reminding you about your weekly food shop that needed to match your nutritional needs. You no longer had Alexia helping you fill out your official government documents. You no longer had Marta and Caro texting you about your upcoming schedules. You no longer had Paños checking to ensure you were up at the correct times. Your safety net had slipped away, and you were dangling in the middle of open water without anyone to catch you.

But this was entirely of your own making. You didn't realise it, but you had failed to apologise to them. You had failed to act like the adult you thought you were and own up to your actions. They didn't realise it either, not consciously anyway, until a few days later. Paños watched you from the corner of her eye, goofing off with Mapi when she got a sour taste in her mouth. Ingrid had approached her to apologise for her behaviour when she snapped at them. The adult thing to do.

"Hey, Ale?" Paños caught Alexia's elbow, stopping her from moving away. "Did Y/N ever apologise to you? For shouting in the changing rooms?" Alexia frowned. No, you hadn't. You had shouted at her in front of your colleagues, your friends, and you hadn't said a word. Never mind that she was your captain. You yelled at someone in public when they only tried to help. And never said sorry. She shook her head. Sandra hummed and began making discreet enquiries about whether you had apologised to anyone else; over the past few months, you had been rude to all of them. Even Ingrid and Mapi when they had expressed concern over you going out for the third night in a row. They had all apologised to you, recognising their own faults with the extreme actions they had around you. But you didn't extend the same courtesy to them. The older teammates pulled back even further, annoyed with your behaviour and lack of ownership over them – again, it was something you weren't aware of, too busy in your bubble of newfound freedom.

Over the next three months or so, you were finding things increasingly more difficult. At first, it was the food shop. When you were with Alexia, she always kept something healthy in the freezer for you should you feel like food shopping was too much for you but you needed something in the fridge or pantry. After long days at the training centre and after matches, the last thing you wanted to do was go to the always-too-busy shops. So, you began ordering food some days of the week. It wasn't like you ordered anything too unhealthy; you always got something vaguely nutritious with vegetables, protein, and carbohydrates. Everything you need for a well-balanced meal. But with the increased deliveries, the carefully constructed budget that Alexia and Lucy had worked out for you began to crumble. Soon, your bank account was much less full than it once was.

It was a sunny morning in early May when things really hit the fan. You had been pulled into a conference room. It all looked very official. Men with official suits you didn't recognise sat on one end of the long table. The Barcelona Big Bosses, as you called them, were along another. Jonatan and Alexia sat on the third side of the table, leaving a single seat on the fourth. Jonatan looked concerned, the Big Bosses looked stern, and the Officials looked bored. Alexia looked furious – she refused to look at you, her hands fiddling with the pen in front of her.

"Hola," you said as you took your seat. Introductions were made, and something small and square was placed on the table in the middle.

Buen día. "Soy Carlos Álvarez y él es mi colega Juan Ramírez; trabajamos para el Departamento de Estado y hemos sido asignados a su caso." You stared at the Official blankly. Your Spanish had been improving, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. "Le gustaría que esta entrevista se realizara en inglés?" You looked to Alexia for guidance, but she stayed staring at the papers in front of her.

"Um, lo siento, um, no en-entiendo. No hablo español," you responded. It was the phrase Lucy had taught you when you first arrived. The man gestured to one of the other Officials.

"My name is Juan Ramirez, and this is Carlos Álvarez; we are officers from the State Department assigned to your case." Your heart stopped. Did you have a case with the State Department? How? Why? Your fear must have shown on your face as Jonatan took pity on you.

"Y/N, you haven't filled out any tax forms or completed your Right to Work visa." Tax forms? A right-to-work visa? You have never had to fill any of those things out before.

"But … I've not completed those before."

"Yes, you have. Look." Juan handed you photocopies of filled-out forms, all with your name and information on them.

"I didn't …"

"I did it for you, Y/N," Alexia answered. "We used to sit down together and do it." When did you do that? You don't remember any forms.

"It shouldn't take too long to actually fill out the forms, but because they're late, you must go to court to hand them to the judges. Due to your status and job, you can stay in the country, but you cannot participate in matches or training until you have received confirmation from the State Department that you can work again." Juan explained. Court? No training? No matches? "We will also have to freeze your salary. It will be back-dated once you have the necessary documentation, but as of right now, you cannot receive any more money for FC Barcelona or anyone else in Spain." No more money? You were really starting to panic. What did they mean you couldn't be paid? You tried frantically to get Alexia's attention, but she refused to meet your eyes.

The rest of the meeting was a blur. You had been escorted to the mercifully empty changing rooms and gathered your things. As you entered the main corridor, you met an incensed Alexia, with Marta, Paños, Patri and Irene standing behind her. The captains.

You went to open your mouth when Alexia cut you off. "I don't want to hear a word from you. How could you be so irresponsible? You said you wanted to be treated like an adult, yet you do something as stupid as this. You could be deported, Y/N. You could be banned from ever entering Spain again."

"I know, but-"

"Do you? Do you know? You said you wanted to be treated like the adult you claimed you are, but you are not acting like one. Adults take responsibility for their own actions. Adults apologise to their friends for shouting at them. Adults can complete simple forms that take only a few minutes to complete. Adults act like adults," she continued. You felt a singular tear roll down your cheek. "And now you're crying," Alexia threw her hands in the air. "You wanted to be an adult, and you failed." That stung. But it wasn't a lie either. And that made it hurt worse. "Adults own up to their consequences and deal with them."

"Alright, Ale. I think she gets it." Patri tried to help you. She was one of your best friends, after all.

"Does she? Do you understand? Do you understand how much trouble you are in? Not just with me or the club but with the government?"

"Yes," you whispered so quietly that she barely heard you. She straightened to her full height, chest puffed out, shoulders back.

"You will not have contact with anyone from this club until you have received confirmation that you are allowed to work here. I will not allow you to drag them into your mess. When you are allowed back to train, you will be on the pitch every day at 7 am. You will complete extra laps before and after training until I deem it appropriate for you to stop. You will apologise to every single person who works for FC Barcelona for the hassle you have created for them. You will have to earn your right to even sit on the bench, let alone play or be a part of the Starting XI. You will have to earn back our respect, not just as a player, but as a person." Alexia said icily before pushing past you. The others followed suit, slightly concerned for you but still following their captain's lead. Patri gently patted your shoulder as she went.

You made it about 5 minutes into your car journey home before you deemed it too dangerous to drive. You pulled into a quiet side street and sobbed. You had really fucked up. You had really, truly, absolutely fucked up. And you weren't talking about the paperwork. That terrified you, of course. You had never even spoken to the Police, and now you had an open case file against you with the State Department. But what hurt the most was how appallingly and horrifically you had fucked up your friendships. The older girls had taken you under their wings without being asked. And how did you repay them? By behaving like a little brat who wanted to sit at the big girl's table.

The next day, Juan and Carlos turned up on your doorstep, armed with a mountain of paperwork and a tough expression. It had taken you 4 hours to complete all the documents you needed. Your court date came through the post a few weeks later. It was set for a month's time. You had hardly left your house. Initially, you wallowed in self-deprecation and began to hate yourself for how you treated the people in your team. The women that had helped you settle into Spain without being asked. The women who let you sleep in their spare rooms and crash on their couches. The women who filled out essential documents for you without you even realising it. And you had never even thanked them. Instead, you had hated them, resented them for the suffocating feeling you thought they had created. Maybe it was you? Perhaps you were so insistent on doing 'normal' things that you made your own asphyxiating environment around them?

After a week of feeling sorry for … everything, you decided enough was enough. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower. You forced yourself to make food and do an at-home workout. After moving your body a little bit, you sat down and began to concoct a plan. Alexia told you you had to apologise to everyone under the FC Barcelona banner. So that's where you would start. You wrote a list with each department on it. You couldn't find individual names, but you knew roughly how big the department was. You wanted to do something that was genuinely hard as an apology.

Buying flowers with a printed note was easy. So, you decided baking was the best option. You could bake reasonably well, and who doesn't love sweet treats. You decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so you made as many cakes, muffins, doughnuts, churros, brownies, and cookies as possible. The works. You couldn't go near the training centre, so you couriered them each day, handing over your mountain of confectionary with a label attached to which department it should go. Inside was a handwritten note apologising profusely for the difficulties you had caused them, promising that you would come to speak to them in person as soon as you were able to. The team was slightly easier to individualise things; you knew their favourites, so you spent a few days baking up a storm for them. You knew they were under strict instructions not to contact you – you wondered what punishment would await them if they tried – but you couldn't deny the total radio silence hurt a little. Could they really cut you out of their life so quickly? But this was your own making, you kept reminding yourself. This was on you. You had to fix this.

Eventually, your time in court came as you handed over the documents. The judge was strict and disapproving, but you could tell the man behind the gavel was nice enough. Your official confirmation documents came two days later, with instructions on who to give them to and when your next form deadlines were. You took out your phone, recorded the dates in your calendar, and wrote them on a piece of paper to pin to your fridge.

All that was left for you to do now was go to training.

Go to training and face the team.

Go to training and face the older girls you had been so rude to.

Go to training and face your captains.

Go to training and face Alexia again.

You set your alarm for 6 am the following day. You completed your usual daily routine – showering, brushing your teeth, getting your protein shake and breakfast, getting changed, getting in the car, and driving to the grounds. You had hoped it would calm you, but as the building got nearer and nearer, your nerves began to skyrocket. Taking steadying breaths, you made your way to the changing rooms. The building was eerie, being this quiet. Typically, the hallways were filled with loud chatter, and the changing rooms were filled with laughter. You made your way onto the pitches at 6.45. You were early, hoping it showed Alexia that you were trying to fix things. You initially decided to stand and wait for her, but then you remembered that she had told you you would be running until she decided you would stop. So, you start doing your stretching and activation. You didn't know this, but the Captains watched you from the conference room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the training facility. After your stretches, your phone buzzed. Alexia had texted.

Ale <3: 30 laps.

Cariño: Hi. Yes, no problem. Will you be coming outside?

Ale <3: No, but I will know if you cheat.

30 laps was a lot. But you didn't want to cheat; this was your punishment for all the stress you had caused, so you would do it, and you would do it honestly—even if it killed you. You had asked because you wanted to see Alexia. You tried to apologise to her first, but that wasn't an option at the moment.

Ale <3: It's 7. Start running.

You filled with your watch as you took off on a gentle jog.

"30? Are you trying to kill her?" Irene asked as she watched you complete your 20th lap. You had only been running for about 35 minutes, but she was mildly concerned. This was the first time you'd done any significant form of movement in a while.

"She won't be needed in matches for a while. She'll be fine." Alexia wasn't about to let you off the hook.

"I know she won't be at matches for a while, but come on, Ale. She's got to do a full day's training after this. And laps afterwards." Marta pointed out. They had all been disappointed and hurt by your actions, but she thought Alexia might be taking it too far.

"She's fine. And who said she won't be at matches?" Alexia smiled, slightly evilly, Patri thought.

"You did?" Paños looked at her, confused.

"No, I said she won't be playing in matches. She will still attend them." They all shared mildly worried looks but let Alexia have her way.

When you eventually finished, you walked around with your hands on your head, taking deep breaths and trying to slow your heart rate down. 

Ale <3: You can go. Be at breakfast at 8.30.

Your heart sank a little as you felt the iciness behind her texts, but this was your own doing. You had to deal with the consequences—like an adult. You headed to the showers to get dressed for the next training session, your shoulders slightly drooping. Alexia couldn't deny that it pulled on her heartstrings a little, but you must be taught a lesson about accountability.

When you arrived out of the showers, the changing room was busy. Everyone stopped talking as you walked to your cubby. You decided to utilise everyone staring at you to your advantage.

"I would like to take this time to apologise to you as a team. I will be coming and doing it individually as well, but I wanted to do this as a team. I am so, deeply, truly sorry for the way I have been acting in these last few months. I was angry and frustrated, but instead of talking calmly like an adult, I raised my voice and lashed out. I am so sorry. I am also sorry for causing a rift in the team – that was never my intention. I am also sorry for the issues I have caused by not completing simple forms. I apologise." You nodded and turned around, hoping the eyes wouldn't keep looking at you. Ona first broke the silence, nudging you slightly and smirking as you met her eyes.

The training was brutal, and Jonatan was not taking it easy on you (and you were reasonably sure it had a little bit to do with Alexia). You used the time you were allowed to talk to apologise to everyone personally. Most people shook you off, but the older girls listened to you and told them how much you hurt them. They accepted it nonetheless – they could see you were trying to make amends. You got through training without complaints, like an adult. You helped collect the equipment before stopping in front of your 4 captains.

"H – How many laps?" You asked, not quite looking any of them in the eyes.

"5," Alexia commented. You nodded and set off running again.

"Ale, aren't you being a little harsh? You're making her run about 6km today on top of training." Marta looked at you. You looked a little weak, running slower than this morning. But you had the determined glint in your eye that told her only Alexia could make you stop.

"She needs to learn her lesson." She shrugged and moved away.

It continued for about three weeks before Jonatan put his foot down. He was starting to get more than a little concerned by your and Alexia's behaviour. You had made up with the rest of the team entirely. The older girls, bar Alexia, asked you about your evenings, and you asked about theirs—just like any group of adults would do.

"Alexia. You need to stop this. She has proved herself. She has said sorry to every person in this building. You need to stop punishing her. I want her back on the team sheets for matches, and I can't do that with you slowly killing her." Jonatan had called her into his office after training. He hadn't initially questioned her behaviour; he had supported it at the beginning. But he could see that the constant rejection from her was getting to you. You were still young, after all.

"She hasn't," Alexia said, watching as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "She hasn't apologised to me."

"Maybe that's because you keep looking at her like you're going to kill her. I see her come up to you, clearly trying to apologise, and then you stare at her, not unlike how you're staring at me now." She quickly fixed her face. "You're terrifying the poor girl."

Her talk with Jonatan made Alexia question her methods a little bit. Yes, she made you run an additional 35 laps daily, but you had to learn your lesson, right? This was the only way to make you see how you were behaving. She was sure of it. In actuality, she was hurt. Your actions had really hurt her. Disregarding you shouting at her in front of everyone, you hadn't wanted her. And that really stung. She may have wanted you to also feel that pain … just a little bit.

As Alexia walked up to your door, she was slightly … nervous? No, that couldn't be right. She was Alexia Putellas, she didn't get nervous. But she was. It was the same feeling she got as a teenager when she knew she had run late at training, missing her curfew, and knowing that her mother was waiting for her behind the door. She decided she was more apprehensive than nervous. Alexia did not get nervous. As she raised her hand to knock, the door disappeared.

"I really don't know what to do," you jumped slightly as you registered that someone was standing before you. "Oh, hi," you said uncertainly. "Ona, I've got to go … Ale, um, Alexia's here … bye." You hung up the phone, putting your coat back behind the door. "Would you like to come in?" You offered meekly.

"Por favor. If that's ok." You smiled hesitantly and stepped back.

"Would you like a drink? I've got water, juice, tea, coffee … wine?" You sounded so unsure of yourself. Had she caused this?

"A tea would be lovely." You both settled yourself with the standard social conventions.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," you said as you gestured to the table. "I wanted to apologise to you. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was rude. I should have been adult enough to discuss my feelings properly," you stared hard at the table, fidgeting with the mug in your hands. As Alexia opened her mouth again, you continued, pushing through before she could comment. "I would also like to apologise for what happened with the documents. I was so stupid not to fill out those forms. I made something that would have taken an afternoon at most into a massive thing. I'm sorry if I caused any embarrassment to you, as a person or as Capitana." You thought you embarrassed her? Yes, what you did was irresponsible, but you were living alone for the first time in a new country. Alexia should have made you do the forms earlier when you still lived with her, not doing them herself without your knowledge.

"Gracias, cariño." You looked up, shocked at the term of endearment. She hadn't called you that in a long time. "I would also like to apologise."

"You have nothing to-" you interjected.

"Sí, cariño, I do. I was so harsh on you. Harsher than what was warranted. I'm sorry. I'm not embarrassed; I never was. I was hurt. You said you didn't need or want me anymore. That hurt me," she explained.

"Ale … Alexia, I'll always want you around. I didn't want to go cold turkey on you. I just wanted you to treat me like you treat Cláudia, or Jana, or Ona. But I never wanted you to not be in my life." She smiled softly at your response. Although, she didn't like that you hesitated to call her Ale.

"Look at us, cariño, talking like the adults we both are." She joked as she sipped on her tea.

"Like the adults we both are, Ale." You smiled back.

So that was part 2. I hope you liked it. I don't think I'll make any more parts, but we shall see.

[h5eavenly]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

nine -the devil and angel are entangled. warnings: smut and a bit of angst.

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You’re having a bad day. It did not necessarily start that way. In fact, your morning started out as one of the best in quite a while, from waking up ten minutes earlier than your alarm to the pleasant quietness that had swirled around in your apartment settling that same pleasant emotion to swim through every nook and cranny of your being.

And so, you find yourself going on a coffee run before heading to the company, a charming smile adorns your face that gets you a free blueberry muffin. It all falls perfectly into the pleasurable warm buzz in your chest. like pieces of a puzzle flumping into place. Crumbs of joy that had managed to find its way into you, separating the collective graying clouds of heartbreak you’ve been lying on for a couple of days.

But oh, you were so wrong. You should have known these clouds are gonna be replaced with a burning fire instead. One that you became too familiar with. It sets your soul ablaze every time you come face to face with the devil’s facet, clad in designer brands and doused in a seemingly uncanny aptitude for getting on your nerves.

Jake Sim.

“What the fuck is this?” he almost spits, a grimace clinging to his handsome features and a glare saturated with the same fire that’s burning inside of you.

“Coffee?” you reply, drily. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and the cup of coffee you handed to him ten seconds ago.

“It tastes like absolute shit. What kind of milk is this?” your hand twitches against your chest, you fight against an otherworldly urge to just smack him across the head and maybe pull on his perfectly styled hair that somehow manages to add grams of beauty to his already perfectly sculpted face –

Okay. Taking a deep breath in, you manage to trap in your wild thoughts for a mere second as you clear your throat.

“Califia. Isn’t that what you like?”

“This is not Califia.” he declares. His head swivels towards you with a deepening glare that somehow has your insides tying into knots. His eyes shouldn’t affect you this much but the dusted colors of dark brown and a light black on his lids only add sharpness to them. It has you pathetically kneeling into desire.

From behind him Sunoo sighs, abandoning his work on jake’s face and his brushes to walk away from the growing heated argument he knows is bound to happen. He has been a witness to it close to a hundred times by now.

“Call me when you’re done.” He calls to the both of you with a yawn. It falls on deafening ears as you attempt, fragilely so to glare back at Jake.

“it’s what I asked them for I don’t know what to tell you Jake.” Even his name leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, melting into something darker that you ignore.

“Well clearly someone is lying here.”

“it’s not like I can make the coffee myself.”

“Then don’t bring me something I didn’t ask for.”

“I’m just trying to be nice.”

“that’s not working very well for you, isn’t it bunny?” his tight brows and tongue poking his cheek shouldn’t also affect you, but it does. Perhaps that’s why it annoyed you, the fact that he was just so attractive yet so annoying. Pulling you apart with confusion. It all bleeds into frustration that bubbles up in your blood, so you huff. Refusing to accept defeat.

“I’ll get you a different one.”

You try to reach for his cup that he has deemed worthless, placed it on top of the table across from him. His hand circles your wrist before you do. His fingers are cold against your pulse, sending shivers down your spine and a pitiful gasp bubble at the back of your throat. Coming up with immense force and almost spills your deviant cravings right at jake’s face. You bite on your lower lip just in time to kill your embarrassment.

“Just get me a protein bar instead. I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore.” The lack of emotions in his tone is antithetical to the masses dancing in his eyes. growing darker in color, splashed with undeniable desire. Making itself so evident when he glances down at your bitten lips.

You swallow around nothing. Your eyes prancing between his as if it’s ever possible for fire to be added upon more fire. Like it could consume you whole and turn you into ashes that simply lays at the feet of the nation’s sweetheart. Another countless victim to the glistening of him. You don’t know who you should start throwing the blanket of blame on first. Your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you and left you to deal with despair on your own? Or perhaps it was the perpetrator who started this little game of mouse and cat? Translating itself into endless staring contests between the two of you and you always end up losing somehow.

It only got somehow rapidly worse over the week. Jake will peek at you in the most random of times. Between the fluttering of his lashes as he’s getting his face done for whatever upcoming programme or in the between the crowds of nameless people and amid the loads of work, you’re being crushed under. His eyes would find you one way or another. A thin line on the verge of breaking stays between you two. It’s in the lingering of his stare when you’re stuck in the van in the middle of unmoving traffic. He rests his chin in the heart of his palm and a wandering curiosity laces his gaze with a dazzling intensity. They’re piercings and more than anything clear.

Capturing you in place with the overwhelming knowledge that he knows exactly what he wants. It almost has you melting against the leather of the car seats. Like a flower loitering amongst many, almost blending in with everything else and hoping to be lucky enough to get picked. It’s pathetic. You grow hateful at it so quickly it should be alarming. It meshes into you taking it as a challenge, daring yourself not to be the first to be weakened and look away.

A smirk disperses across Jake’s lips each time with no fail and you stumble on your cold façade, swaying and drenched in a feeble coated loneliness. Yet with a coarse heart you take and take until you snapped.

It happened two days ago.

After a long day of work you find yourself in the all-too familiar elevator of the company. An Aching body and a hazy mind. Jake has his head thrown back against the wall behind him, his Prada sunglasses covering his eyes while Jay is next to him scrolling through his phone mindlessly. You bask in this rare tranquility for a few seconds before it’s interrupted by a huge group of staff members. Invading the cramped space. With a sigh and deflating shoulders, you move to make space. Squishing yourself into a corner as you hug yourself in futile attempts to make yourself appear smaller than you already are.

You’re surprised when another smaller group joins in as well leaving little to no room to breathe. Jake is somehow pushed right next to you and into your space. His scent breaks its way through to you before you feel him against your back, his chest pressed against you, and he uses his palm to rest on the wall right next to your head that is refusing to face him. Instead thanking God and the heavens above at the lack of mirrors in this specific elevator.

The last thing you want right now is catch your own reflection or even worse – Jake’s reflection.

The sudden proximity has your heart picking speed as you haven’t been this close to Jake before, his expensive perfume almost chokes you when someone pushes him again. Causing him to press you further against the wall. You’re starting to feel suffocated. It only ever becomes worse when you grow hyperaware of his chest raising and falling against your back, his breath fans against your exposed neck and you shiver.

“You good, bunny?” Jake murmurs into the back of your head, his other arm coming up to splay his hand flat against the wall, successfully caging you in. his voice is low yet soft. Softer than any other time he had spoken to you before, tenderly causing tingles to linger at the top of your spine.

Jake had never spoken to you gently before if he’s not blunt and cold. He is teasing you with harmless insults and perhaps that’s why his tone has specifically broke you that day. It blazed a trail down your being, nestling in the middle of your stomach and travelling down right to your core.

When was the last time someone had spoken to you this softly?

You can’t come up with a good enough answer. Not to the question swimming around in your fizzy mind or the one Jake threw at you. you’re flickering, wobbling on this thin line between you and your eyes are following the trail of veins on his hands. They look so strong that your brain melts and turns into mush, the only thought arising on top of everything is that he could fuck you right now and you would definitely let him.

Maybe that’s why when your lips separate a phantom of a whimper escapes you, ringing in Jake’s ears when you start squirming, pushing your lower half back against him in the process. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to get away or closer to him.

“What are you doing?” He groans, pushing further into you to stop your constant movement. The sound sends another unwanted shudder through your body.

“I can’t breathe.” You hang your head, disgrace marring your cheeks in red at the way you catch yourself in a lie. The way your eyes have glazed over, and there’s a haze turning your mind into a jumbled mess. forcing you into the lust you have been denying the existence of for days now.

You can’t breathe.

And it’s not because of this cage you found yourself trapped in, it’s because of him.

“we’re almost there.” His voice is almost like a distance dangled comfort, offered by some pitying god that you refuse to take despite your sinful thoughts and so you grow quiet, equally terrified at acknowledging the fact you want him.

You feel like a stumbling mess all the way home, with wobbly legs and a quivering heart that somehow always manages to make itself your worst enemy. You don’t allow yourself the pleasure to scour the thoughts swirling in your mind for answers. Instead, you mellow out into the tingling electricity that had lingered on your back. As if his scent seared itself onto you, you end up touching yourself in the middle of your bed. myriad of visions invades your mind. They’re mostly of Jake’s hands and intensive stare. A glorious fire that takes you so high up and only when you’re down do you realize;

Oh, you’re so fucked.

“yn,” jake’s annoyed voice pulls you right back into the current situation you’re in. he arches a brow at you and you blink, breaking yourself out of a daze.

Daydreaming about your boss who happens to be in front of you right now is a different kind of fucked. One that you didn’t have in your bingo card for this year.

“Right. Protein bar I’m on it.” You free your wrist from his grip easily, he falls back into his seat with suspicion mixed with irritation that has him biting on his lower lip. A habit that you grew to hate so quickly. It has you straightening your back and moving away in a stiff manner. As if you’re an alien that just learned how to walk on human ground.

“You okay?” Jay asks you when you manage to faceplant right into his chest as soon as you’re out of the room, a breath of a chuckle escapes him at your expression.

You only give him an equally stiff thumbs up, a blush so deeply red spreads across your cheeks like an exposure to all the corrupted fantasies that found your brain and made it their home. It’s so ridiculous you don’t even welcome them so why are they taking over you as if you are a dried up branch flourishing back to life with none other than your desire for Jake Sim out of all people.

You will not allow it.

You catch yourself in another lie when afternoon rolls around. Passing by you with a blur drenched in misfortunate mishaps. It all begins with an inexplainable discussion you end up in with one of the staff members, you don’t recognize her so you think she must be new. She saw you next to Jake earlier that morning and apparently thought it was funny to joke about you and him fucking and perhaps it hit way too close to him. Perhaps because it is something you’ve been thinking about for nights upon nights but it had angered you so much. To the point where you decide to give her a piece of your mind when you run into her in the bathroom.

Despite the smell of actual shit surrounding you, your anger doesn’t subside. In fact, it only grows bigger when the girl rolls her eyes at you and walks away in the middle of you talking. You screamed, hitting your hand against the wall.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken nail. A bandage that has a fucking bunny on it of all animals wrapped around your pinky and a scowl not nearly as cute plastered on your face. You are startled when the door of the dressing room opens, your stare flits across Jake’s figure that dawdles past you followed by Sunghoon. You sink further into the couch you’re sitting on. Annoyance pulling at you when your silence is interrupted.

“Oh, hey yn.” Sunghoon greets, notices your figure that is being drowned by a graying disappointment. Almost as deep as the lines forming between your brows.

“Hey,” you return drily.

Your eyes linger on Jake, and he catches them from across the room. They cut into you deeply, it has you splitting open, breaking like shattered glass and your only wish as you go down is to cut him back.

The longer your staring stretches the more you feel your blood started to bubble with something akin to anger. Running through your veins and becoming one with every other negative emotion that has nestled in you throughout the day. It makes up all of you, turning you into a hungry void that wants to swallow everything in sight. It only grows when you feel like you’re the only one who’s getting burned by this fire growing vastly fast between you two.

Jake’s façade never breaks, doused with indifference and feigned coldness. It’s in the way his pruriency for you is ferocious. Taking up every sense of his being, he finds it in the notes of your scent, vanilla, and cinnamon like you’ve stumbled out of a bakery. Sugary sweet and he’s never been a fan of dessert, yet he grows a sweet tooth just for the taste of you.

It’s in the way you’re infuriatingly confident. Carrying yourself with a loudness he’s sure he despises yet you manage to walk away with pockets full of his attention. The shape of your body capturing growing ounces of his interest day by day. Perhaps he’s just sexually frustrated, he hasn’t fucked anyone since Chaewon. And so, when he glances one too many times at your legs and when he’s staring at your breasts too long to be deemed discreet. He lets himself because he’s just taken by his sweeping frustration.

Because truth is he finds you insufferable, overly stubborn with a spark of determination in your gaze, yet his want is uninhibited, crawling to you with licks of temptation and he pretends to be stronger than any of it. That the way you laugh so loudly is enough exasperation for his lust to abate. He pretends that you being so pretty doesn’t matter as much, that the innocence clinging to the edges of your smile like you haven’t been tainted by the evil of the world is only a rarity he finds in you.

It pulls him right into you and yet away from all his logical thinking. He finds himself being thrown back and forth in the overwhelmingly profound walls of his brain.

He’s never met someone who irritates him as much as you do so how is it that he craves you this bad?

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

“yn can you hand me Jake’s shirt? It’s on the rack behind you.” Sunghoon speaks, words cutting into the pregnant silence that had spread around the room. It hangs heavy that you don’t ever hear him.

Your mind stolen with the wandering of your eyes, dipping to Jake’s hand clad in rings. They’re nothing sort of enticing and yet you find yourself transfixed, unable to process anything that’s going around you and unable to look away from him.

It’s tremendously inequitable how he looks like he ambled out of a painting carefully coming to life by a starstruck lover. It’s aggravating how he’s a sculptor’s approximation of a person. You’re sure he’s been sipping on angels’ tears in his past life because there’s no way for him to be real otherwise and even when the angel is walking towards you with so much force in his steps, his wings dripping with glittering gold covers the floor and a couple of broken hearts cling to his lashes, you hold your breath. It’s in the faint scars adoring the palm of his hands.

It’s so absurd how could it be possible for something so tarnished to hold onto so much beauty? How is he so captivatingly attractive?

When Jake leans over you, his body mere centimeters and your face is almost buried in his chest. Your heart pulses against your ribs, eyes widening in surprise.

“Focus bunny,” he says with a stern look in his eyes, pulling back and the shirt Sunghoon had asked for in his arms.

You’re unable to come up with something to say. Your mind a blank when Jake takes his shirt off. His skin comes to view like whiplash to your face and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle.

It has your cheeks heating up, you fumble with the end of your rope.

One slip, all it took was one slip and you’ve fallen.

“Can you leave us alone?” Jake’s voice breaks into your clouds of thoughts and you swallow. Standing up and with too much of shakiness in your legs, you head for the door.

“Not you bunny. Sunghoon leave.” The latter looks between you two, taking note of the tension that seems to follow you two. It’s fatuous yet Sunghoon complies.

“What’s with you?” He stands before you, arching a brow at you and you linger by the door. Toying with the hem of your skirt and avoiding his gaze. The same one that is dancing across your figure appetitively.

“What?” You don’t mean to snap at him, but you do and his face hardens enough to chip enamel.

“Don’t start giving me attitude now.”

You sigh, a breath of exhaustion as you try to regain some pieces of sanity that the lines on his abdomen stole. Your eyes lolling everywhere but him.

“Sorry I’m just having a bad day.”

“you’ve been having a bad day for the last two weeks?” he asks sarcastically, followed by a scoff that tugs at your anger so easily. Yet you keep quiet.

“Get your shit together yn. you’re only making this harder for everyone else.” He adds bitterly, scrutinizing your futile attempts at avoiding his eyes. maybe because you know he’s right that anger finally sinks its teeth in you, and you don’t resist it. Locking eyes with him with a newfound raising flame.

“It’s not like you’re making it any fucking easier for me.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“I’m not cussing at you.”

He pauses, his gaze flickers for a mere moment that it’s enough to have you slipping yet again. As if you have been standing on slippery glass all along, barely hanging on by his avoidance and a simple darkening of a shade is enough to weaken you. eluding the depths of your desire to the surface. The wall of tension builds alarmingly fast, it’s in the way Jake’s eyes follow your lips.

“My job isn’t to make anything easier for you. so, if you feel like it’s too much you can leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Your voice wavers slightly, mimicking the buckling of your knees.

“Then take it.” You wither away in silent indignation, so intense it feels seared on you and it only grows, peeking over the now mountain of tension. So leaden, it only intensifies when Jake’s takes slow steps towards you. A playful glint has taken its claim in his eyes, like he had won a contest you didn’t agree to be a part of. When he’s close enough he brings attention to your lips with his index finger.

“And take care of this mouth too yeah?” like splashes of wine your cheeks grow red in color and Jake’s lips tilt upwards in a troublesome smirk “behave bunny.” His words are meaningless, a passing empty thought he throws right at your face and when you sputter for a response. Swaying with shaking hands to gather your discomposure that he abandons as he walks past you.

It’s a blunder, one that will have you mourning your dignity right after and yet like a fool who stumbled upon a dazzling cup filled with sparkling poison you drink up. The devil and angel are entangled with sin when the words tumble out your lips;

“You take care of it then,” you turn to look at him and he looks back with the same vigor spilling from his eyes, like a river running down the route of lust.

“If you hate it this much then take care of it.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides, it stretches agonizingly slow that you almost feel an overly determined urge to melt onto the floor you’re standing on.

Your mind careens over your own words yet when Jake takes a tentative step towards you, his eyes search yours for crumbles – you hope are heavenly enough to have him breaking and you didn’t just offer yourself to refusal. You don’t evade it, instead you allow yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating tension.

No one has ever looked at you with this much want before and so you forget the ability to breath like tiny million sparkling stars are falling from the darkness of his eyes and right into in the lodge of your throat, so sharp and rigid and they’re bright, so bright it lights up your insides. Like lightness have found an abandoned cave –

And because Jake burns first, so frighteningly fast like melted candle wax. Your inside twist when his lips meet yours in desperation that emerges a gasp from you

- They fucking explode.

Your lips move against each other with famish, a thirst nestled so deep in both of you it can only be quenched by your kiss. His hand is on the curve of your jaw and yours form fists in the lines of his shirt. The pressure of his mouth upon yours renders your mind a foggy mess. So much so that when he moves you against the door, your back hitting it harshly you follow with no reluctance. Another pretty gasp escapes you at the impact and it gives his tongue access to your mouth.

A light moan falls from you, as the kiss deepens the bridges of your noses slide together and with a mind of their own his hands are like phantoms travelling over your body, palming your breasts over your shirt. your every sense becomes overwhelmed with his lips, his touch.

“Are you clean?” he pulls away briefly and you whine, eyes heavy lidded as they chase after his lips again. As if your cells need him to live as opposed to oxygen.

“What?”

“I’m going to fuck you so are you clean?”  you blink at him, the fog clearing up for a moment and you almost frown close enough to take offense if your underwear sticking to you with wetness isn’t growing annoying,

“I’m clean,” you murmur, almost doused in shame that you don’t get to linger in before he’s diving back into you. his lips finding yours with fervor and the air bleeds red with desire.

With his hands down your underwear, he lightly brushes to tease at the wetness. Lips quirking in something akin to egoistical pride. And your expression turns sour despite the incontrollable bucking of your hips against his unmoving fingers.

“How come you’re this wet already?” he’s imprinting the words upon your cheeks, leaning down to drop the same bruising kisses to the skin of your neck and collarbone, drawing a map of possible regrets.

“I’m horny and I haven’t been fucked in weeks what did you expect?” you sneer, and his chuckles vibrates against your neck.

When he goes back in to kiss you, you feel your cognitive facilities shut down. Your hands with a mind of their own travel across his body, in his hair like you’re running on a time ticking bomb, and you need to feel every inch of him before it explodes.

“Get on the couch.” He whispers against your lips.

“You don’t have enough stamina to do it standing up?” you tease, a playful quirk of your lips that has his eyes darkening. You’re not sure if it’s anger or lust.

“Unless you want me to leave you like this you better zip it.”

Once you’re on the couch, he clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, his hands work fast on freeing his cock from his slacks and your mouth is falling apart with an open silent whimper when he runs the head of his cock down your covered slit. You pant into his mouth, spit dripping down your chin and you arch into him with a new sense of need coloring your moans.

“Hurry,” you mumble against his lips, your embarrassment shows plainly on your face and Jake only smirks at you.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your skirt and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of fabric around you. he slides your panties down your legs just enough to have your pussy on display for him. Jake’s eyes are feral and heavy as it trails over your figure, so intensely deep it has you squirming in your place. An uncontrollable need crawls over you mixing in with your frustration.

“Are you gonna fuck me like you said you would or are you gonna keep staring at me?” you huff, feeling your patience thinning.

His lips quirk upwards in flickers close to mockery as he smooths his hands over your legs, tad too gentle for your liking but when he’s looking up at you it’s not close to tender but rather like you had fallen right into the devil’s lap.

Just like he had planned all along.

He slowly sinks into your wetness, chuckling at how quickly your mouth falls open with a silent moan. He grinds into you, his own eyes falling shut at how your walls lock his cock inside of you and you’re more than grateful for that. Not wanting to be witnessed with a stupefied look on your face.

You want to – try to keep quiet as if a challenge had presented itself to you and you remain nothing but a too stubborn of a flower, refusing to be picked especially not by Jake Sim of all people and so you bite down on your lower lip. You almost taste the sweetness of victory on your lips and then it’s pulled so brutally away from you when the head of his cock hits that gummy spot and you convulse. Head falling back with a strangled moan.

“F-fuck-“ you clench around him and your hand scrambles for purchase in his locks, the other digging into the couch, the throbbing pain of your pinky long forgotten.

He falls forwards with a soft laugh, so melodic and unexpected it has your stomach twisting into knots you aren���t sure are nerves or pleasure. He buries his face in your neck as he sloppily drives his hips deeper into you and his lips draw a lazy map of salvia rather than actual kisses on the skin of your neck. It leads him right to your lips; the eye contact you hate so much transpires again. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony, it’s absolutely sinful.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened bunny?” he whispers on top of your mouth, close enough to behold the want in your eyes. you attempt to glare at him and yet it melts right with your dignity with the touch of his fingers on your jaw, stopping you from looking away as he fucks into you harder “are you gonna thank me for taking care of it?” open mouthed kisses dot across your jawbone before lining his lips over yours, your chin in his hold as he thrusts into you.

When he leans back, you’re growing delirious, barely gripping into your remaining sanity when he smirks at you “come on say it.” He mumbles half-heartedly and you shake your head with a whimper, it echoes throughout his mind and ignites a bigger fire within. Curling into an ungodly soundtrack of sweaty bodies and the hankering to break you.

“Say thank you Jake for giving me your cock,” he mocks, his voice like devilish thorns against your skin and you push at his shoulder with a grunt.

“F-fuck you.” He doesn’t falter at the wavering of your voice, so debilitated compared to the way you glare at him and yet it turns him on even more.

He starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. It has your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth falling open with moans and whines- anything that could be good enough to indicate how he feels inside of you, how your cunt grips onto him in desperation for more, more, more.

You’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re struggling to breathe, struggling to control your sounds anymore. They spill over endlessly, and Jake knows they’ll be tattooed into his brain just like the first time he had heard music in his life. They will haunt him just like the clicks of a piano, so sweet, sugary sweet and addicting. He feels so good, inside of you, around you that tears start stinging in your eyes.

“Fuck- fuck Jake I’m coming oh- “you blabber.

“Shut the fuck up.” He presses his hand flat to your mouth, hushing you and pressing you further onto the couch and your eyes soften as you swallow, entranced by him. Your walls tighten around him and his tight grip falters but remains. His face is drenched in perspiration and so much want for you.

With the oxygen stolen from your lungs. Your breaths are quick and heaving and your body shakes in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaches quickly, building so intensely with the way his movements become jerky. Shooting your hand to your clit you work yourself up and further into the gates of iniquity. your whole body becomes taut, and you rock into your hands and chase after his cock. watching you melt under him is something Jake will be viciously proud of for a couple of days to come.

So much so that it’s almost an impossible challenge for him to pull out of you when his own high approaches dangerously overwhelming. With labored breaths, his eyes glued to your heaving figure. He spits on his hand and starts pumping his pulsating cock. His other hand scrambling for the tissues on the table and he sends himself over the edge. Your eyes are the only thing that he needs to fall.

As soon as the fog of lust clears up you feel a shift in the air. The gold and sparkles disappearing and washed away along with all the bent-up anger. Leaving behind nothing but a sliver of dullness and awkwardness that clings to your limbs. Jake moves from on top of you with a grimace. You watch him move to tidy himself up in almost blissful yet holding on by an ambiguous edge that tug at your heart painfully. When he looks at you, you don’t know why you almost feel like you want to disappear.

“Jay has been asking for you. Fix your hair before leaving I don’t want him knowing about this.”

Oh. Oh. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you that he doesn’t want anyone to know about this and you do realize how inappropriate all of this is and yet you still stumble into a bitter feeling. An old picture starts burning in your mind, the same one of you falling into desperate repetition of a prayer to someday be good enough to keep and not a sparkling piece of art that holds no actual value.

“I’m gonna leave first.” Jake speaks into your growing silence and the click of the door is the only indication of him leaving.

You don’t know how long you stay there on the couch. A couple of hundred emotions take over you, guilt, anger, regret, and shame. So much shame and all it took was one slip to throw you into the maze of agony so familiar yet so frigid and cold.

When you walk out of the room you run into Jay right away like a mockery of the devil you’re growing sick of playing with. There’s a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he studies you, one that you don’t get to see because you’re so busy looking anywhere else.

“You and Jake had a good talk? Sorted out the tension?”

“Yeah, all good.” You mumble almost inaudible as you push past him with a burning face.

Jake watches the interaction between you two with intense attention. His eyes betray him as they follow your figure almost religiously. and when Jay strolls to him with a shit-eating smile plastered across his face., Jake groans sinking down into his chair and hoping to somehow vanish.

“Don’t even fucking start,”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Jay retorts with a laugh.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

Once you’re one step in your apartment the sounds of all the too familiar trio have your shoulders deflating even further if possible. Despite your immense love for them the need for a quiet night after the hectic day you had is bigger. You can kiss it goodbye now.

“Hey,” Niki greets you as soon as your figure is in the living room, the other two sitting next to him on the couch turn from the tv to you as well and you force a smile upon your face despites the aching in your body,

“Hey guys,”

“Heeseung is helping me get to plat.” Jungwon tells you, eyes brimming with joy. It has your chest enveloping with warmth. a breath of fresh air like you’ve been choking all day. On your thoughts and on lingering stares

“Slay.” You ruffle his hair as you pass by him and into the kitchen, gravitating towards a glass of wine that you’re sure your soul needs.

“Are you okay?” Niki asks, eyes dancing across your features. Your mind clutters full of the earlier events and you down your glass of wine in a moment.

“I’m perfect.” You reply, pouring yourself another glass and running away from the concern lacing Niki’s eyes “I’m gonna take a bath and call it a day. Don’t trash my apartment.” You call out to them as you start heading towards your room.

“Without me?” Heeseung says from behind you, you ignore him and the only thing you hear before closing your door is the impact of Niki’s hand hitting his head and a loud ‘Ouch’ following.

The darkness of your room welcomes you, in a rather unexpected coldness that has you wondering what home really is. It’s all so stupid, and yet you wonder why you feel like a hole had opened right under you. staring at your glass of wine you feel like the air, not free but hallow.

One slip was all it took.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora @vousty

@realrintaro @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory @hearteyesforseungsung

@jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @pretty-bluntz @babrieeee @mandoscyare

@stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @softieluvsyou @seunghancore @chaewonshoney

@chaeyunloveeee @beommii @fuxktaekook @antonsgirlfriend

@direxila @rockyhedgehog @nessas-archive @lukeys-giggle

@arikazu @pochamocharoll @chlodavids

[mushroomates]

gimli headcanons:

likes doing laundry. finds it soothing

history nerd!! loves reading old tombs/biographies of his ancestors

is incredibly intelligent. beats frodo in chess. would beat gandalf but gandalf cheats. has been in a stalemate with aragorn for two and a half years.

well mannered but chooses to forgo his politeness to make a point. especially around elves.

does NOT like horses. not just riding them, which is canon, but actually dislikes the animal itself. the reasons why include (but are not limited to) :

he does not like being not on ground. he does not have a fear of heights so much as a fear of… feet not on ground. as evidenced by refusal to jump, treehouses, and well, horses

he does not like their faces. they are long and have eyes on the side like prey. gimli thinks this is deceiving as horses are very large and can kick in someone’s skull. not his skull.

gimli believes that in a one on one match with a horse, he could easily win. he has thought of several, very specific, scenarios of this and has a detailed plan of attack should this situation occur.

they so easily turned against their home for an evil overlord (read: sauron stole all the black horses from rohan) and therefore cannot be trusted. as a rule, anything that willing you let you ride it cannot be trusted. they can’t be satisfied with this life. they are plotting something.

believes he would be great at drums. it’s just hitting things hard and he’s pretty strong.

ok, another thing about horses: they are fragile to a ridiculous extent. you breath wrong and it breaks. they have bad bones and bad blood flow in their legs, and their legs are all that they’re used for. he doesn’t understand why humans invested so much time into horses when they’re genetically bad at what they are meant to do. he’d feel bad for the horses if they weren’t so awful.

drinks coffee, not tea

takes great with the up keeping of his gear. he sharpens his axes, polishes his boots, shines his armor and waxes his mustache. that’s not gear, but he takes great pride in looking groomed and caring for his belongings.

has an axe for every occasion. battle axe? do you want throwing or slashing. a day on the town? have you seen this intricately carved masterpiece that also is a weapon? digging a hole? PICKAXE. cutting a cake? how about an axe???

hates the rain because it ruins his hair and beard. also loves the rain because it ruins legolas’s hair and clothes.

will eat anything. has a great tolerance for spice. contrary to popular belief, dwarves are not shy of seasoning but are very cautious around other races in fear of poisoning their friends

will also eat some rocks. salty is his favorite (halite, hanksite, glauberite) but also likes to add chunks of chalcanthite to his food for a slightly sweet yet metalic flavor. this is also slightly (SLIGHTLY) poisonous as evidenced by sharing his trail mix with boromir

also calls dirt the “local seasoning”

will taste dirt to try and get a feeling for the land. this tells him the acidity, weather, possible wildlife, and also pisses off legolas

actaully genuinely likes the taste of dirt. (note: if you desire to eat clay/dirt that is a symptom of iron deficiency. for gimli, he eats spoonfuls of the stuff like their supplements because as a kid it was fed to him like multivitamins)

OK SO HEAR ME OUT: lack of sunlight can cause really low hemoglobin and ferritin (a blood protein that contains iron) sooo being constantly in dark caves can cause some forms of iron deficiency. because dwarves are conscious of their young, dwarf children often grow up not often being in direct sunlight.

the solution? dirt. dirt contains iron and other tasty minerals that are good for the body. charcoal has natural antioxidants. so does clay. am i saying that momma gimli (unnamed) fed her son ash and clumps of dirt? yes. also bits of broken pottery. it’s good of the immune system.

fr tho clay/dirt/charcoal are the dwarven multivitamins. you have a tummy-ache? here, have a rock. i truly believe this was scientifically proven by dwarves and only FOR dwarves (plz do not eat dirt)

fuckin loves mushrooms. has a mushroom log at home. whenever dwarves find some fungai in a cave they go feral

likes dogs. thinks it’s great that they dig holes. thinks it’s fantastic that the bury things in holes. absolutes loves when they get muddy, and then shake off all water and dirt all over you.

when he came back home with the name lockbearer, a lot of the dwarves thought it was really cool and he has some sort of elven puzzle that requires a code to unlock something. imagine their surprise when he rocks up and is like: no, even better. HAIRS. three of them.

enjoys making mudpies- made them as a kid with his cousins, (mostly with rock slurry) and continues to, even even as an adult.

made them on the fellowship with the hobbits. taught them all about the best types of dirt and the water-to-soil- ratio needed.

while cutting up slices of his pie, he offered one to boromir, who in good nature, took it, clearly thinking it was just part of the bit.

poor boromir was locked in a stalemate after gimli cut his own slice, and began eating it.

to his credit, boromir did brave a few bites, but had to stop once he nearly had a mouthful of maggots

“protein”

gimli is like crazy good at hair. can braid quickly and efficiently in elaborate styles

picked up eleven hair style techniques in lorien (quicker than legolas) and was forced to relay them to the elf through twine as there is no way he’s letting grubby elf fingers to touch his glorious mane that’s been decades in the making

would ask for a drink “on the rocks” and get slightly upset if it did not come back with actual rocks

[malebodyexhibit]

Two Tops Can't Make A Bottom... Maybe? (a free commission tale)

Beggars can’t be choosers. But, do I look like a beggar? Naw, man. I could walk into a bar and come out balls drained. Twinks love this body and these magic fingers. My boyfriend and I met at that bar with the public toilets you could screw in. We hit it off well, mostly because he was so hot. We had friends in common too so it was easy to hang. Eventually we moved in together and after 3 years, I’m over him.

He’s still insanely hot and still manages to keep his body tight. Being on the college football team helps, but he just doesn’t do it for me. My tastes got more complex since I met him. The other night, he wanted to screw while pinning me down. He wanted to top of course, but I like topping too.

Do you see the problem? We’re not compatible anymore!

I just wish I had a cute twink boyfriend, but not like those desperate freshmen. I want a guy that needs a strong guy to show him how to act. I want to hold him down while getting a little rough with him. But I do want a twink who still plays sports so I can undress him and smell him. But it seems like a wish that’ll never come true, then I remembered I have a friend who’s a witch.

She managed to cast a spell for me that would make my boyfriend the perfect twink. All I had to do was sneak something into his protein powder and let it do what it does. Simple enough.

This morning while my boyfriend was in the shower, I took out his protein drink and spiked it with the magic powder. He came out and chugged it down. I watched as before my eyes, he started to change. His strong arms became slimmer and graceful. His blond became more fair. His confident stance of standing chest out and hands balled into fists, became more relaxed. His muscles shrank, although he still had a nice, firm build. His eyes became softer, almost angelic. He looked more like a preppy schoolboy than his former jock self.

I walked towards him and asked if he was alright. He looked at me confused, then meekly stammered, “y-yes.” I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him to his knees. I told him to start sucking. He didn’t fight back and he became my submissive bitch. He still has his old memories, but lacks any dominance to try to assert his old cocky jock self. In fact, he seems to prefer this. After he does his workouts, he comes home, smelling of sweat and BO. I love pulling him close and smelling his stench. He’s so ticklish as I sniff him from his neck, his armpits, and his feet. I never knew how much I love a smelly boy. I love to give him a good spanking when he showers. Something about smelling him like a dog in heat drives me nuts.

He now bottoms like a pro. My favorite position is grabbing his thin ankles and bringing them to his ears. What a flexible bitch! It makes fucking his hole so good. His little 4 inch cock looks so cute to my 10-inch rod. I don't think he could be such a perfect twink.

---

Author's note: thanks to zzzinternetperson for this recommendation and picture. Although I did change a few details.

[frickingnerd]

living together with shinjiro & akihiko

pairing: shinjiro aragaki x gn!reader x akihiko sanada

a/n: this got super food related, oops— anyways, this can be read as platonic or romantic/poly! <3

when the three of you finished high school and started college, you decided to move in together!

living together seemed to be inevitable and since you needed to move anyways, unable to stay in the dorms of gekkoukan, the three of you got an apartment together!

you were used to living together from your time at gekkoukan, so most things translated well into living together as a throuple

shinjiro was still the one cooking for the three of you! nobody can even get close to his cooking skills, so it's clear from the start that he'll play the cook for the three of you

though akihiko does cook for himself too sometimes! his food lacks seasoning and is mostly focused on proteins and efficiency, so shinjiro and you are rarely interested in it. but he always offers the two of you a bit anyways!

the only times you really eat anything akihiko makes is when he cuts some vegetables or fruits for you when you study! the lack of seasoning on those is actually a good thing!

akihiko also bakes his own cereal bars, often with your assistance! they never taste good, because he refuses to let you add sugar to them, but he's still eating them anyways!

since cooking is shinjiro's job, you mostly do the cleaning around the apartment! the two boys are rather clean, so it's not too bad!

you're also the one that also has to keep an eye on which items you need to restock! whether it's shampoo or dish soap, you're usually the one writing those items down on your shopping list, as shinjiro and akihiko only notice things are running out when it's already too late

the three of you always eat dinner together, as well as walk koromaru at least twice a day! those activities are the ones you always do together without fail!

aside from that, you give each other the space you need! when exams approach, you often don't see each other for days, as you practically lock yourselves in your room and study non-stop!

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - FOUR

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: A look into the House of Sigma Beta Theta (ΣBΘ). Annoyed with the vague hinting at the party on Friday, Steve confronts Clint and stands up for once– and it only slightly backfires.

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1386

warnings: cursing, food mention, meeting the rest of the brothers, dudebro Clint, fuckboy Tony, singling out/exclusion, power dynamics, Steve's just trying to make it through the day man

a/n: we get to meet the rest of the fraternity! so sorry it's been a while. the holidays, seasonal depression, and work happened and i didn't really have the motivation to write for steve again until recently. hope yall like it ❤ p.s. thank you all SO SO much again on the continuing love for filthy impetuous souls. it means the world ❤

This chapter was not beta'd by anyone else. All mistakes in this chapter are my own.

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥ Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Wednesday.

Dribbles of cereal milk splash onto the kitchen table as Steve switches between eating breakfast, drafting a perfect-but-also-not-too-perfect text to his barista, and reading the newspaper. The newspaper thing makes him feel like an old fucking geezer, but it reminds him of mornings with his Ma back home. He misses her.

He makes a mental note to call her this weekend. 

Munching on another spoonful, he nearly chokes at the sound of slow, calculated footsteps descending the stairs. Normally he’s the only one home on Wednesday mornings. Normally he can sit in comfortable silence in the kitchen without needing to sneak around the fucking house. However, this specific Wednesday morning was not normal– all the guys were hungover from the party the night before. Upon realization, Steve reluctantly swallows the half-chewed gob of Cheerios. It lands in his stomach like a rock as he frantically looks about the scene on the table; he can’t decide fast enough whether to hide the newspaper, or his phone– or himself– before whomever is around the corner sees him outside his bedroom, outside his element. 

Tony Stark is the first to stride into the kitchen. Jet-black hair slicked back with yesterday's pomade complimented by a face riddled with stubble. He’s a mismatched mess of a worn Yankees jersey, khakis, and the newest Nikes, all of which are covered by the stench of luxury cologne and seven types of vodka. Even with designer sunglasses on, he winces at the fluorescent kitchen lights while dragging his feet straight to the coffee pot. 

"’Sup, Rogers." 

As far as they are into the semester, it’s the first time Tony directly acknowledges Steve in a way that isn't sarcastic or followed by a snooty comment under his breath. Steve quietly tips his chin to Tony out of politeness. From his perch at the kitchen table, he watches Tony pour a mug of coffee before slyly taking a mini Fireball out of his shirt pocket, dumping it into the hot liquid. He stirs his concoction with a finger, tasting it with a faint grimace before sipping. 

To each their own, Steve thinks. 

"Are you really reading the fuckin' newspaper, old timer?" Tony remarks behind his mug. Last night’s party and lack of proper hydration makes his voice raspy, deeper than usual. Steve shrugs, nodding with a faint 'yeah' in response. Steve sips his protein shake.

Tony sniffs a laugh. "Soon enough, you'll be on it." 

Another slurp. 

"What?" Steve chokes, a chunk of unmixed protein powder lodging itself in his esophagus.

"Hm. Nothin'." 

“No, what did you–”

"Whoa! Sure is a party in here," Clint Barton jokes upon entering the kitchen, following in Tony's footsteps to the coffee maker. Compared to Tony, Clint takes his hangovers in full stride. It figures, too; the guy is a kinesiology-finance major with a nutritionist-business major of a girlfriend. Eyes full of light and mischief, hair already stylishly spiked even though he just rolled out of bed, he’s already in his usual workout shirt and sweatpants. Clint whistles to himself, taking a large tub of protein powder off the top of the fridge before fixing a shaker of protein coffee. Tony steps out of the way to the other side of the kitchen to lean against the stove, watching, lurking. 

"Not until you got here, Clint," Steve attempts. Clint doesn't turn around until he's shaking his protein shaker. Loudly. 

"You say sumn'?" He asks, smirking when Steve begins to shake his head and go back to his phone. 

"Steven, I kid, I kid.”

Steve gives a tight-lipped smile, looking down at his soggy Cheerios. The knot in his chest tightens. The milk smells sour.

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve looks up, locking eyes with Clint. He swallows, hands gripping the newspaper and crumpling the comics section– his favorite. 

“You have fun last night?” Clint asks, dropping more powdered supplements into his shaker. 

“Y-Yeah, it was fun.” 

“You see any cute honeys you like?” Clint waggles his brow. 

Steve’s face burns. His eyes dart to Tony, who’s hiding a knowing smirk behind his coffee mug. 

“I think, yeah,” he shrugs. 

Clint laughs, lips morphing into a knowing, dark grin. “Well if you think they were cute last night, just wait ‘til Friday. You’ll believe it, then.”

Another vague nod to Friday. Steve’s brow furrows, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean by that?” 

Clint blinks, surprised at the confrontation, and sets his shaker down on the counter before approaching the kitchen table, hands slamming into the wood. Steve’s cereal sloshes, splashing a bit onto the screen of his phone. 

“You wanna ask me that again, Steven?” Clint hisses with a challenging smirk. “Go ahead, y’know I can’t hear real well. I didn’t hear ya the first time.” He leans in with a hand cupped to his ear and a mocking face. “What’s that? Huh?”

“Nothin’,” Steve mumbles. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s knuckles are white.

“Sorry! Come again?” Clint’s smirk grows wider the further he leans in. 

Steve stands abruptly, slamming his own palms onto the table. “I said–!”

“You said what?”

Steve and Clint turn to the direction of Bucky’s voice as it drifts into the kitchen before he and Sam do. Hands pocketed, brow raised, ponytail bobbing, Bucky looks sternly between Steve and Clint. Sam mirrors him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Steve straightens instantly; Clint follows suit, stretching a hand out to Sam to exchange high fives. Steve’s eye twitches.

“Hm?” Bucky questions, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. He looks from Tony– who just nurses his coffee, checking stocks on his phone– to Clint– who lifts his hands in defense, acting confused– and finally to Steve– who sets his jaw, trying his best to level his breathing and frustration. 

Steve swallows, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t say anything.” He tries to keep his tone level, convincing. Bucky nods, gaze shifting to Clint. 

“Nothin’, boss, y’know me.” Clint’s lips twitch along with his brow. 

Bucky’s eyes dart between them before he turns back to Sam, who leans against the fridge with crossed arms. Steve locks eyes with him for a second longer before he turns to Bucky and shrugs. The moment hangs in the air, silent and tense, like every other time all five of them are alone in the same room. Steve’s always the one that feels the tension, though. 

“As you were,” Bucky concludes. The kitchen reverts back to normal as everyone resumes the start to their days. Steve stands idly by, looking down at his milk-coated paper and phone, his breakfast soggy and ruined. He sighs and begins to clean up. Before he leaves the kitchen, Bucky grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Forgot to ask. You inviting anyone?” 

Steve responds with a confused look.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “To the party, Stevie,” he clarifies, flashing a smile differing from his usual, knowing smirk. 

Steve hesitates, looking to Sam then back to Bucky. “Kinda, yeah,” he shrugs. All eyes are on him and the kitchen stills once again. Bucky’s brow rockets up his forehead.

“Yeah? Who?”

Steve’s Adam's apple bobs. “Uh, just–just a friend. From class.”

“But who?” Bucky’s grip on Steve’s arm tightens. 

“She’s just a–” Steve immediately bites his tongue. It's too late. 

“She? You have a she-friend?” Clint asks incredulously. Even Tony looks at Steve from behind his lowered sunglasses. All eyes are on the blond whose eyes dart around helplessly. 

“I–Wh–She’s just a friend from class, that’s it,” Steve defends, heat pooling in his cheeks as he stares pointedly into Bucky’s cool blues. Bucky holds him for a second more before releasing his arm, dusting off Steve’s shoulders, smiling. 

“We’ll make sure to give her a real warm welcome, then,” Bucky winks. 

Unnerved, Steve quickly makes his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room while mixed conversations from the kitchen chase after him. He doesn’t bother listening. Once he enters his room, he triple checks the locks on the door before slouching into his secondhand office chair. Popping in earbuds, he hits play on the album he fell asleep to the night prior as his fingers fly over his phone’s keyboard, coming to a stop when the adrenaline does. 

He reads over the text, chewing his lip, and hits send.

Hey, it’s Steve

who?

Meathead.

oh i know just wanted to hear u say it

Don’t you mean see it?

damn. got me there

nice first attempt at texting btw. solid 8/10, good introduction

8/10??

What can a guy do to earn a 10/10?

hmm

come by the cafe later and try a new drink i made ;)

Deal.

[vampyresovereign]

Hi hi hi!! <3 <3 <3 I love your account and your music hcs for the characters especially Savanaclaw thinking about Jack listening to Ice Cube and Eazy-E is so funny to me to imagine. KDot too oh yes <3 If requests are still open could I ask for a GN!Reader as his gym partner. Kinda like he thinks MC is so weak with bones like jelly so he tries to motivate us to work out with him... Even if we suck at it haha!~!

YES QUEEN/KING OF COURSE ILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU!! I honestly was kind of scared cause I thought i put TOO much unnecessary thought into what everyone's music taste might be (like you could tell i was geekin out over music ngl) so I'm really glad you liked the headcanons. mb this took so long, here's your request<3333 -isa<3

Pairing: Jack Howl x GN!Reader Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Quick Synopsis: You accompany Jack on a little trip to the gym, inspired by a snarky comment from coach Vargas. Tags: Use of Y/N, reader is not Yuu, no specific physical description of reader, reader is embarrassing as hell but it's okay cause Jack is patient with them, might be inaccurate/i've never been to a gym

-

“Alright everyone! Class is over, get out of my face!” 

Coach Vargas practically screamed from the middle of the field. You watched, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the freshly cut grass as your fellow classmates grabbed their brooms, walking and talking in groups on their way towards the locker rooms.

Maybe it was because the weather forecast advised sunscreen since it was over 80 degrees, or maybe you were just stressed out from other classes, but something made phys ed today much harder than usual. 

You were startled when the coach suddenly appeared behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Your endurance is getting stronger, L/N,” He started. “But you still have a long way to go.”

“What do you mean, coach?”

“Well, for starters..” He removed his hand from you, taking a second to lift his arm and flex the bicep in front of you, as you raised an eyebrow.

“..You know, something many don’t know about broom riding is that most of your energy actually concentrates in the arms. You need to be able to balance yourself and hold onto the stick, y’know? And to be honest with you, kid..”

He pointed towards your arms.

“That’s something we need to work on, don’t we? Hit the showers.”

You shouldn't have taken that comment so seriously, coach was known for being pretty vain and shallow when it came to physical appearance. But unfortunately, he had a point.

You constantly skipped leg day and couldn't lift a dumbbell with more than 3 plates.

Though you were dwelling on it, you decided to try and put those negative thoughts away. Your next period was lunch, and you had even more stressful classes to deal with after that.

Lack of muscle was the least of your problems at the moment.

As you walked towards the cafeteria, lagging behind another random group of people, you spotted a familiar pair of fuzzy white ears in the crowd, walking the opposite direction.

You felt your eyes spark in recognition, immediately calling his name out.

"Jack!"

Jack's eyes widened, ears pointing up for a few seconds in surprise. He walked towards you, scratching his head. "Hey Y/N, what's up?"

"You know the cafeteria is that way, right?"

It was then you noticed the giant duffel bag slung across his right shoulder.

"I know. I'm not goin' to lunch."

"Why not?" You inquired.

"Decided to hit the gym at around this time from now on 'cause it gets way too crowded after classes are over," He said.

"So.. You're just not gonna eat anything?"

"Of course not," He scoffed. "I got a few protein bars and shakes in my bag. I'll be fine."

You hummed in response, you had totally forgot that working out was Jack's whole thing. As he adjusted his bag, an idea suddenly popped into your mind.

"Hey, can I join you? I kind of wanna try exercising for a little bit."

He looked at you, slightly shocked. "For real? You never seemed interested before."

"Well, I guess I wanna try something new today. How about it?"

He placed a finger on his chin in thought, before placing his hands on his hips.

"..Sure, I guess."

-

Before the two of you headed to the gym together, you each went back to your respective dorms to grab comfortable clothing.

You didn't know what exactly to wear, so you settled on an old tracksuit you hadn't worn in the seven knows how long.

When you walked in, there were obviously some people there, but you had strolled past them and followed Jack into the section where the bench presses and mats were, suddenly feeling nervous.

Jack very quickly got to work, setting his bag down next to a random bundle of equipment, and adding about 5 plates to the light dumbbell.

You stood next to him awkwardly as he leaned his back down on the bench, wondering if this came off as creepy.

He glanced at you as he sat the dumbbell to rest, raising an eyebrow. "You know, there's a set right behind you, right?"

"..Oh. Sorry, this is my first time here, I'm just kind of trying to figure out what to do through you," You blurted out, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.

You moved to the set he had just mentioned, which also happened to be directly across from his, grabbing pretty much the same amount of plates on the way there.

You held back a grunt as you held all of them in the palm of your hands, wondering what the hell Jack was eating to be able to carry this amount effortlessly.

You leaned back on the bench, trying to replicate the same position you saw Jack in as you curled your hands around the base of the dumbbell. Taking a deep breath and lifting it up, you were good for about 4.5 seconds.

"Fuck!"

The realization of how heavy the equipment was immediately crushed down on you, literally. You dropped the dumbbell on your stomach, curling up and holding onto your belly for dear life when the instrument fell on the floor.

You heard Jack get up from behind you to assess the incident.

"The hell happened?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips.

"I don't know how you do it, man."

He grabbed the dumbbell from off of the floor, sighing. "Y/N, beginners don't start with this amount. It's kind of common sense."

"It looked simple when you did it.."

"Yeah, because I've been honing these skills for years." Jack removed about 2 plates from each side of the dumbbell, handing it back to you on the bench. "Here, try to lift it now."

You nodded, proceeding to do as he said.

"..Still heavy, but do-able."

Jack smirked.

-

You spent the rest of your time at the gym attempting to try a little bit of everything with Jack at your side, teaching you what to do. You felt a little bit bad that he used up all his training time essentially babysitting you, but he assured you it was no big deal.

The only problem was that when your time to train together was up, every single part of your body felt sore. Even your eyes.

Jack let out a laugh, a rare thing, and slapped you on your back.

"This was a great sesh, wasn't it?"

You stumbled a few paces forward from the impact of his hand. "..I would say yes, but I still gotta go to my afternoon classes after this."

"Hah. You better get used to the grind, we're doing this tomorrow. And the rest of the semester, actually. Breaks are on weekends."

You stared at Jack like he had three heads.

"Don't look at me like that. We're partners now. No turnin' back," He grinned.

You awkwardly laughed in response, excited to hang out more with Jack and expand your muscles, but not too excited about the process anymore.

i don't even like jack like that but this was very fun to write. apologies again for the wait gang. -isa<3

[ghostphobic]

a/n ; this is the prequel?? i guess for the first little drabble. i just needed to write about that first interaction lmfao. also i really want to write more surfer!abby stuff, so don’t hesitate to send me little things you want me to write about her / her and reader! <3

surfer!abby being at a complete loss for words upon meeting you for the first time. it’s been months since she’s been in this smoothie shop and there’s been hardly any change in the staff for the past several years, so she’s taken aback when she sees your face behind the counter. not only because of the lack of familiarity, but because of how fucking beautiful you are. 

“hi, welcome in! order whenever you’re ready.” is the first thing you say to her, and, of course, your voice is pretty too. it makes her heart pound and she feels...nervous? surely not. abigail anderson doesn’t get nervous.

her eyes flit from the menu board to you, pretending she can’t figure out what to order. she knows exactly what she wants — a strawberry banana protein smoothie, but she wants an excuse to make conversation so she asks you instead.

“i don’t really know what i want today. do you have any recs?” 

“you sure you want my recommendation? i’m a ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ kind of person, so i really only get one thing from here.” 

“c’mon,” she says, “you look like someone with good taste. give it to me straight.” and, like the immature girl she is, she holds back a laugh at that sentence, because she’s feeling anything but straight right now. 

“fine.” you say a bit reluctantly. “i order a green squeeze.”

and, once again, abby has to hold back a laugh. because she’s never liked green smoothies, but here she is about to order one and pretend it’s delicious just so she can tell you how right you were and how good your taste is. 

“alright. sounds good. i trust you.”

she pays for a small and leans against the counter to watch you blend everything together and pour it into a plastic cup. you bring it over to her and you watch as she brings he small up to her lips to test taste it. 

she feels about as nervous as you look. the cold tangy-sweet-earthy sip slides down her throat, and she just as she suspected, she’s not a fan of it. 

but she smiles when she swallows, “it’s really good. see? i knew i could trust your opinion.” 

your smile is full of relief, and abby quickly changes the subject. mostly because she wants to know a little bit more about you while the shop is empty, but she’s also hoping you won’t notice her not drinking the smoothie if you’re conversing. 

she tells you your name is pretty, and you tell her that hers is too. she finds out that you just recently moved here and that this place allowed flexibility and oddly good pay, which is beneficial for you because you’re currently in school. 

she tells you she’s been a surfing her whole life, and that she’s recently inching her way into pro surfing. you seem genuinely fascinated with that, telling her it’s something you’ve always wanted to try. she tells you that she could teach you sometime. you tell her ‘we’ll see.’ with a smile. 

she’s about to ask you something else when a customer walks in, which means time is up, but you catch her attention before she walks out. 

“hey, abby.” you say, “you should come back more often. i think you just became my new favorite customer.”

[navy-leader]

Latest episode enabled me so heres my cooking/eating habits headcanons for the sticks:

[Color Gang]

- Blue cooks the most (obvi) for the gang, the best cook all around

- Green does it the second most, hes the substitute when Blue is too busy

- Green's the type of cook to get really pissed at other people being in the kitchen when hes cooking

- Blue on the other hand doesnt mind company and help but he cant be responsible for what happens to them if they come uninvited

- Yellow is officially banned from cooking in the kitchen without supervision

- Yellow is often too distracted with working on things to the point where they forget to eat, the others often have to remind them

- Red likes baking more than cooking

- Second doesnt do it very often bc theres usually someone else doing it but hes pretty good at it

- Purple is a pretty good cook as well, though when he's low on energy he tends to whip up the weirdest fucking combinations of simple processed foods ever, though they somehow taste? Good?

- Overall the ones who eat the most are Red and Green, being gym rats they tend to burn a lot of energy pretty quickly

- Green drinks protein shakes 👍

- Red is a sweet tooth

[Hollowheads]

- Chosen and Dark when they lived together had a very "fulfilling what the other lacks" dynamic when they cooked

- Chosen has awful motor skills so hes pretty shit at cutting stuff up meanwhile Dark excelled on that

- Dark has no sense of temperature, having only fire powers so he tends to run hot and has a natural resistance to heat. So things are never hot enough for her and ends up burning their food more times than they can count

- Chosen on the other hand had more of a balance with his ice powers so he's better on that end

- They tried utilizing Chosen's laser eyes as a microwave at some point. Didnt work out.

- More than once did Chosen try using his fire breath to cook but swiftly gets reprimanded by Dark for "breathing on the food"

- Chosen's really lazy and would only eat simple foods unless someone drags him to cook something (that person being Dark)

- Those two only know simple recipes but its enough for them

- Victim has GOD AWFUL eating habits, similar to Chosen he'd just not eat anything but simple processed foods and often forgets to eat altogether. He really only eats if someone buys food for it/cooks for it

- Victim has never set foot in a kitchen ever and god knows what'd happen if it did

[AvM]

- Orchid had awful eating habits and made the weirdest food combinations and called it a meal. After getting with Cobalt she basically forced Orchid to learn how to cook properly so shes better now but every once in a while,,, old habits die hard

- Cobalt cooked for the household the most

- King was a decent cook, enough for him and Gold

- That is until Gold died, King didnt really took care of himself and ate very much, let alone cook. Probably takeout if he remembers

- Post-avm 30 hes getting better and tries cooking again every once in a while but yakno,,,depression

- Purple cooks for them when hes like that

[Mercenaries]

- None of them cook very often because theyre usually on the job so they tend to get takeout most the time

- When they get a chance to, Paleo and Warn are usually the ones to do it

- Pivot and Ballista are coffee drinkers

- They all drink protein shakes

[pervysenpaix]

A/N: Oh my god, she's back again— I’ve fallen into madness talk to me nice 🧡

Pairing : E.Kirishima X Black Reader

TW! : ProHero Kirishima, Hard Dom Kiri, Slapping, Degrading, Oral

You had to be the world’s worst personal assistant.

Kirishima only hired you as a favor to your cousin Mina, but he knew he was probably earning himself a headache.

They say don’t judge a book by its cover but in your case it’s a valid double entendre because not only is your work ethic as bad as your resume, but you were also just as slutty as you looked.

Most of your tasks were pushed off to the unpaid interns while you sat at your desk posting pictures and reels on IG.

“ A day in the life of a Hero’s Assistant!” — which usually consisted of showing off whatever skintight ensemble you’d picked out that morning, followed by you getting sending the intern for Kirishima’s protein shake, ordering some ridiculously expensive lunch on the company card for the two of you and sitting on his desk while he finished paperwork.

It was a glamorous gig. You barely had to lift a finger. Some people might even call you spoiled. Say that you lacked discipline.

It was Kirishima.

He is people.

Simple tasks. Small things. Directions that shouldn’t be too hard to follow but for some reason they weren’t settling in that pretty little head of yours.

“Eiji—!” you whined, the fat of your breasts rippling as you stomped your feet like a school child. “Why do I have to do it! Isn’t it someone’s job to file your paperwork?”

The redhead chuckles, big hand resting on the small of your back. You stood between his legs, but he was so tall that even seated you were face to face.

“That’s your job, darlin’” he coos, “it’d be nice if you did it sometimes”.

Scandalized, you gasp— a hand to your chest staring at him disbelief.

“I am a very hard worker” you pout, glancing at the small stack of papers on the desk. “What are those anyway?”

The man shrugs. “Just some contracts. You don’t have to read or sort ‘em. Just put ‘em in the “personal” file down the hall, alright sweetheart?”

A simple task that shouldn’t have taken more than two minutes, so why has twenty minutes passed without him hearing the clicking of your Louboutins and the swish of your braid jewelry?

He steps out of his office and much to his displeasure he finds you at your desk with your eyes glued to the pages of his very personal documents.

“What is this?” You dare speak to him in such a condescending tone? Brow raised as if he’s the one that was doing something wrong?

Kirishima remains levelheaded, although you were practically begging for a session over his knee you weren’t his to take and the short stack of NDAs and BDSM contracts were proof that he wasn’t exactly easy on his subs.

“What does it look like?” He challenges, brow raised arms crossed over his powerful chest.

Boldly, you saunter around your desk, hips swaying in that barely there leather mini, and stop until your face to face chest with the man. Tip toeing to wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him down and of course he obliges.

“Looks like you’re some kind of a pervert, Mr.Ei” you whisper, dainty fingers tangling in his flowing red locs.

“Guilty” he smirks, shooting you a challenging grin that leaves you aching between your thighs. “So, is this why you won’t ever take me home ?” You pout, “because of this silly little paper ?”

A soft chuckle escapes him. Rough hands reach for your cheeks, relishing in the soft contrast there. His thumb traces your glossy pout before pulling down.

“Maybe” he brings his thumb to his mouth, “maybe not”. His tongue darts out to taste the residue and he hums in contentment. “I’m far less forgiving in the bedroom than I am in the office, sweetheart. I don’t tolerate bratty little girls”.

It takes a conscious effort to stop the frown from forming.

“I can be good, Eiji. I promise”.

Your whiny tone has his cock stirring in his pants. He kisses your forehead softly then looks back into your eyes.

“Then let’s get you a pen”.

Eijiro whistled lowly, circling you with your trench thrown over his shoulder.

“You look like a slut” he stated matter of factly. Pausing to look into your eyes. “Thank you!” you respond, smiling brightly.

After settling the details of your proposed entanglement, you immediately got online to find the sexiest lingerie possible. The lacy red ensemble was fashioned similar to his hero costume—black sleeves connected by thin red straps with small “r”s that barely covered your nipples.

He hummed in response, motioning for you to follow him down the hall and pausing in front of a door.

“Safe word and non-verbal signals ?”

You answered with practiced precision earning you a soft small and forehead peck. Swooning, you looked up at him through fluttered lashes pursing your lips for a proper kiss.

“This will be the last time I indulge you. When you cross that threshold you are mines. You exist only to please me. You take what I give you and do as I say. Do I make myself clear ?”

“Yes” you chirped excitedly, rising on your toes but he gently pushed you back down by your forehead.

“Yes, what ?” He challenged, voice low and gravely. His tone so chilling it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. An expression far more sinister than his usual amiable nature overtook his features.

“Yes, sir” you replied meekly, dropping your eyes only to be shocked by a sharp pain across your cheek. Out of instinct your hand went up but he stopped you. Grabbing your hand to hold against his chest and slot your lips together. Pure sensuality clouded your brain alleviating the sting and leaving nothing but pleasure. He pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. “Always keep your eyes on me, Princess”.

He pulled you into the room and sat you on a chair near the bed. He adjusted your posture— chin up , eyes forward, back straight, legs spread wide. Two sharp slaps to the inner thighs were a reminder when they clenched together during his inspection of your mouth.

“You just can’t Fuckin’ listen, can you ? You’re fucking hopeless” he growled, meaty fingers sliding back and forth on your tongue. You tried to protest around them which earned you another slap to the cheek.

He kneeled until his blown out crimson orbs met your own.

“Disagreeing with me now , love? I knew you were a little dumb but that’s just plain stupid. You’re whatever I say you are and if I say that you’re a hopeless slut, a dumb bitch meant to warm my cock then that’s what you are, right ?”

“Y-yes Sir”.

“Good girl” he croons, fisting his hands into your braids to smash your lips together. His tongue invaded your mouth, overpowering you with ease to mark his territory. He left you breathless and gasping for air, only to pull back and spit in your mouth.

“Now you just be a good girl and keep that in your mouth while I fuck your throat. Sound good, Angel ?”

His voice was so sweet now and his eyes sparkled with affection. All you wanted to do was please him. You answered as best you could with his spit still resting on your tongue but he understanding and have a reassuring wink as he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his cock. It was painfully hard, swollen and angry red with pre leaking like the slick between your legs.

It was heavy on your tongue—you knew it would be. The delicious weight had your eyes fluttering before he even started to. Eijiro twisted a nipple making you yelp around him.

“Keep your fucking eyes open and on me , slut”.

Then he started to move.

The beginning was fairly easy— his dick glided in and out at the languid pace of his hips, but when Eijiro deemed you adjusted he hammered his cock against your throat filling you to near asphyxiation. His assault was relentless. There was barely room for oxygen to pass the rock-hard appendage stuffed in your throat.

You gagged and swallowed around him, contracting perfectly to bring him to the edge. Ropes of searing spunk erupted from head. You swallowed what you could but it was just so much, most of it spilled down your chest. But Eijiro was gracious, he didn’t punish you. He scooped the spilled cum back on to his dick to let you clean it off properly.

“Good fuckin’ job, baby”. The sweetness of his honeyed voice rivaled the saccharine seed he’d gifted you. “Let me take care of you now”.

The big brute of a man snatched you up by your hair and into a searing kiss. Your knees buckled like a newborn babe. Your mind was emptied of anything other than Eijiro Kirishima and pink appendage slithering against your tongue. Sharp teeth teased your lips, traveling down the column of your neck to graze the sensitive skin there. Eijro bit down-- not enough to break the skin but enough to definitely leave a mark.

"You're perfect now" he rumbled, spit soaked lips traveling to meet your own once more before picking you up and wrapping your thighs around his head.

Eijiro rested your back against the wall and ripped your panties of with a sharp tug. The man groaned at the sight of your pretty little pussy. Puffy brown cunny overflowing the evidence of your arrival. With one hand he supported your weight while running the rough pad of his thumb through your sticky folds.

You reeled at his feather-like touch, hips lurching to get contact where you needed him the most.

"Pleasee---" you begged, desperate for relief and fuck if that whiny little voice didn't get his cock stirring back to life. If Eijiro was a selfish man, he would've drawn it out. Leave your body burning too little touching. Get you right to the edge and pulling. Denying your orgasm after orgasm to get his fill of your needy whimpers. God- he really wished he was selfish, but you were just so good for him, and it wouldn't be fair to keep punishing you. So of course, he obliged.

"Itadakimasu".

@xogabbiexo , @mhathotfic , @tenyaiidasslut , @bookwormsenpai , @7inaa , @sems-diarie , @endeavours-jockstrap , @hentyehottie , @bitchubby , @m00nchildthings , @nasty-quillz , @namjoonswifeyy , @plussizeficchick, @linahopeeeee, @chaichaiiskai , @not-your-damsel

[fish-writing-dump]

Yoo could you do a army x reader?.

Sunny side up

Army x Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Author Notes: Sorry it's a bit short I'll make sure to write longer in your other request 🙏

You heard a light sizzle and pop just past the door of your bedroom. The noise gently waking you from your peaceful slumber. You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes as your vision grew clearer, defining the shapes of your belongings and furniture that decorated your bedroom. After a few minutes of idle scrolling on your phone you begrudgingly left the comfort of your bed.

Swaddled in your blanket you slinked out of your room into the living room. The scent of toast wafted in the air leading you to the kitchen where your beloved boyfriend stood, making something at the stove.

His bright orange tentacles hang loosely around his shoulders. His usual green parka and beret hang on the coat hanger by the front door on the opposite side of the apartment. You take small, patient steps, slowly getting closer to him. Suddenly pouncing onto him from behind (obviously watching out for the hot frying pan).

“Morning!”, you heard a soft chuckle as he turns his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss onto your cheek.

“Morning, you know I could hear you right.” His voice was much more mellow, compared to the usual proud and authoritative tone he used. It was nice knowing he felt comfortable around you. When the two of you first met he always seemed a tad bit uptight and stiff, but over time he started to 

Pouting slightly you joke, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles at your antics, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he carefully removes an egg from the frying pan and cracked open another onto the hot surface. You decided to let him cook properly, stepping back to watch him from behind. Leaning against the counter, you noticed more egg shells beside the stove. “Did you buy more eggs?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going into another food phase?” Apparently before you met Army, he went through this whole ‘getting humbled by a group of idiots’ arc, which led to his addiction to cooking curry. Which was great and all for his development as a person but the taste of the dish got old pretty quickly a few months into your relationship. You mentally prayed this also wouldn’t turn into something again…

“Eggs are a staple in most households darling, how can it be a phase?”

You remarked, “Well we both know how you get sometimes.” Earning yourself a fond eye roll as he set some eggs down onto a plate.

“You know eggs are a good source of protein, they may not have a large amount of protein but they lack waste like carbs that most foods have and…” You listened to him ramble on about the benefits as you grabbed some other toppings from the fridge to eat for breakfast.

The both of you set the dining table together, placing down plates and cutlery, finally taking a seat down to enjoy your morning together. Usually on free days like that day he’d be out already, either on his way to school or training with his team. You decide to break up the monotonous sound of cutlery with some small talk by asking Army, “You got any plans for today?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he pauses, “Nothing comes to mind at the moment.” A grin spreads across your lips.

Without hesitation you ask, “Can we go somewhere, it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.” Army smiles at the thought.

“That sounds good, do you have a place in mind?”

You discussed plans for the rest of the day and got ready to go out.

[spandexinspace]

@radioactive-earthshine Gave the birthday boy a protein shake. 🫡

Happy -938 birthday to him!

_______________________________________________

"Here." Ayla trusts one of two identical transparent cups into Querl’s hands. It’s cool to the touch, though less so than how most humans appear to prefer their beverages, and contains a white, viscous liquid with an almost imperceptible pink tint, punctuated by small, dark dots.

"What is this?" Querl asks, eyeing the substance sceptically. He’s not made a habit out of trusting unidentified liquids his teammates hand to him, since many of them have demonstrated an interest in regularly consuming nearly or slightly toxic substances for no justifiable reason. It might not even be consumable at all, for all he knows.

"Protein shake. Contains fancy seeds and stuff, Tenzil says it has benefits." She grins at him and leans back against the railing, turning her back towards the biosphere below as the contents of her own cup lap dangerously high up the container’s walls and threaten to spill over them at any moment..

"Benefits?" Another thing his teammates seem to have their own ideas about. No surprise that Tenzil is the source of this mystery liquid though.

"Oh, you know, some stuff,” she says nonchalantly, her lips still curled into the type of grin that says it’s not.

"Ayla, elaborate." 

"Tenz said he got it from some ancient human records called P-ins that said it's supposed to give you energy." Ayla leans closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sexual energy." 

“Grief,” he says, drawing out the word to empathise his disbelief. "That seems highly unlikely; The replicators are not configured to provide medical grade products. And even if they were there'd be no guarantee it would have the same impact on either of our biologies as it would have had on a human a thousand years ago." Despite himself Querl can feel the tip of his ears and cheeks heat up, undoubtedly turning a treacherous dark green even as he tries his best to remain unbothered.

"Yeah, yeah, science. Can't hurt to try it though, can it?" As Ayla leans back again, as relaxed as ever, Querl studies her expression for a sign of, well, anything. She’s more open than most, but he is quite frankly awful at reading people and she knows that.

"It definitely could. But you don't actually think this will work, do you?"

"Only one way to find out." She takes a big gulp of the drink and then pauses for a moment, as if to savour it, her face a mask of exaggerated contemplation. "But nah, I think Tenz is full of nass on this one. He'd believe any recipe he found in any old record. Helps being able to eat all the weird stuff they used to eat back then, I guess. This ones’s not too bad though, doesn’t even taste like chems." She wipes the back of her hand across her lips.

Querl raises his cup and slowly rotates it, watches as the thick liquid lazily swirls in the cup and the black dots bob up and down in it like miniature buoys. There is a notable lack of a chemical smell to it, replaced instead by a weak, earthy scent not unlike some of the things they ate while stuck in the 20th century. Very unlike the so-called pizza they ate there, but not unlike certain other things they ate. Its appearance still fails to bring him comfort.

"You do know you don't have to bring me food," he says, glancing over at Ayla. Stalling, if only a little.

"I know, but I get worried about you sometimes. Lyle does too, judging by what Salu says he’s told her.”

"And what has he told Salu?" He narrows his eyes, running through the options in his head.

"She didn’t say exactly what he said, just that he gets worried about you sometimes. I think he mentioned something about it while they were on a mission with the squad ‘cause they’d been away for a while?”

“He... does that.” Querl sighs. ”I’ve already explained that he shouldn’t be concerned, I clearly survived just fine before him.”

“Not really how it works, my guy. Look, I don't really know what's up with you and I ain't going to dig if you don't want me to, but you should take care of yourself. You're not helping anyone by not taking care of yourself and we'd all be pissed if you died or something. It was bad enough the last time around." Ayla takes another drink from her cup, her gaze seemingly fixed on something very far away. Or perhaps nothing at all.

"It's fine. I'll be fine."

"Good. Now try the sprocking thing before it becomes even warmer." 

Querl takes a last look at the liquid in the cup, then brings it to his lips and takes a small drink. It’s smooth and still slightly cold, the texture only broken up by the black dots, which somehow manage to be both gelatinous and hard at once and feel oddly large and uncomfortable in his mouth. It’s not too dissimilar to the awful, pungent "milkshakes" Lyle seems to have a thing for, but unlike those it's not heavy with the kind of artificial sweetness that lays itself like a thick coat over one’s tongue and teeth. It's still sweet, but the taste is less pronounced, tinged with a bitter and earthy note. It’s a strange and unfamiliar taste, but not a wholly repulsive one.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's acceptable."

"Uhu, feeling any energy yet?"

"Grief, Ayla." He rolls his eyes and she lets out a bark of laughter, whatever shadow that came over her before now gone. 

"Just checking," she says, before taking yet another sip from her own cup. "It is pretty good actually. A lot of food here tastes so fake, but this could actually have some real nuts in it."

“And here I thought you didn’t know anything about nuts.” Ayla reaches over to swat at his shoulder with the back of her hand, but her touch is light and there’s a clear, contagious bemusement in her expression.

“Oh, and I thought we were being proper today,” she says.

“There is nothing improper about discussing commonly farmed crops. You of all people should know that.”

Ayla snorts. “Nasshead. Nuts aren’t even common crops back home. Most of it’s just grains and even then we sell most of that.”

"Hm, yes, I suppose that’s true. Most food on Colu originates from Winathian grain producers, though as far as I know it’s processed off planet." 

"That weird bread you-all eat?" 

"It's not bread. It's super-processed grain infused with vitamins, proteins and mineral additives. It’s a nutritionally complete food and makes use of as much of the grain as possible, thereby reducing waste and ensuring our survival." 

"Thanks for the lecture. Kinda tastes like nass though." Ayla grimaces in mock disgust.

"Flavour is perhaps not its main benefit.” It, in truth, doesn’t taste like much of anything at all. He’s still not decided if he prefers that to all varied, unexpected and often disgusting tastes of alien food. “It's very efficient though, both to transport and to eat, and you don’t need to eat anything else to fulfil your nutritional needs.”

"I just can't imagine not having other options though. Even when we have bad years back home we usually have some options. Buncha different recipes and conserves. My grandmas all knew probably about a hundred different things to do with mixed grains and not much else."

"Perhaps it's different for other people. My family constellation wasn't ideal for being immersed in our culinary traditions." Querl shrugs half-heartedly. It’s not like he ever would have had a choice even if he had wanted to.

"Nass, sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's alright." It is. It doesn’t hurt like it did before, in particular not when it’s her saying it. Unlike some her words aren’t laced with ill will and Ayla is, for as boisterous and loud she can be, surprisingly easy to get along with. Surprisingly easy to just be around. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, continuing to sip at their drinks as they slowly turn room temperatured. It’s strangely filling for a drink, though Querl supposes that has something to do with the – by the name implied – added protein and perhaps the partially soft black things. He makes a mental note to research the matter further later, perhaps even by talking to his worrier of a boyfriend.

The cup is mostly empty by the time he breaks the silence.

"Thank you. For the drink. It’s not as disgusting as it first seemed." Tilting the cup back and forth he watches as the now thinned out liquid and a few stray dots flow along the bottom of it, trying to keep up with its movements.

"Any time. Gotta keep you going so I can keep kicking your ass in training." 

"How altruistic of you. Perhaps you would be better off fighting someone who can match your enthusiasm?”

"And risk losing? Don't think so, beans." Ayla eyes him, her eyebrows knitting together in either a frown or thoughtfulness. “I mean, unless you want to.”

“I don’t. And even if I did, someone would inevitably lecture me about the physical demands of our field of work and demand I train with Val, again.” Querl waves a hand dismissively in her direction, then crosses his arms. “Besides… I do appreciate your company. Even with the absurd nicknames.”

“Aw. Maybe someday I’ll teach you how to make up nicknames too.” She reaches over and ruffles his hair. If he makes an indignant noise in response it’s nothing short of her fault.

[danascullysjournal]

Eternity

An X Files ficlet. Post Revival.

TW: Death, Severe Angst.

____________________

He changed.

It was imperceptible at first. Strands of his hair began to mirror clouds on an overcast day, and his face and hands were slowly peppered with darker spots. She called them freckles. He let her. They both knew it was a lie.

Her hair kept the same sheen, and her pale skin freckled, as it always had, but was never taken over by the aging blemishes that most women feared. He noticed smile lines begin to settle in a bit deeper, but not for age. She simply had so much more to smile about with him. It showed.

As the years had passed, his changes became more magnified. His stride, once hindered only by his desire to help her keep up, became smaller. Less sure.

She retired. To spend more time together, she said. Neither of them spoke of the finite nature of his life, or the infinite nature of hers. It would cut too much. Instead, she packed picnic lunches and laid the blanket under the gnarled tree. Clouds passed overhead and changed from one thing to another. Just like him.

The day came when he shuffled. She shortened her stride to match.

Food lost some of its taste. He didn’t want much anymore. She prepared his favorites the best she knew how, adding extra butter. More protein. And pies, homemade, filled with love. He tried to eat, for her. His lack of appetite stifled her own.

They grew thinner together. She cried quiet, happy tears that at least in this, she could share some of his experience.

He slept more. She sat beside him, her fingers curling through his thinned, cinder-flaked hair. He smiled and nuzzled into her as he slept, a child in an old man’s body. She told him stories of strange creatures, of a man hungry for truth and adventure who was willing to sacrifice everything.

“It’s you,” she said. But he knew that it wasn’t, anymore.

The day came when his heart wanted to stop. She found him on the floor, and she fell down to his side. Her compressions on his chest were a hollow, desperate prayer. She couldn’t bring herself to stop.

She watched his lips grow pale through blurred tears.

“I want to come with you,” she said.

Only his eyes could answer. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him slip away, an old man in her immortal arms, and she cursed a future void of the only person that mattered.

The clouds over the cemetery were gray like his hair, cold like his lips. The sky opened, pouring rain over the headstones and the fresh earth above his body. She remembered Bellefleur and starlight, finding ghosts in the darkness, and she sobbed, begging him to find her in this darkest eternity.

________________________

Author’s note: I’m sorry 😭 I couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote it down. I maintain Scully is NOT immortal and none of this actually happens

[tviral]

RE: BIOLOGY / PHYSIOLOGY

Nemesis’ hypothalamus region works faster than that of an average human. Owing to the fact that it has two hearts (and therefore, two circulatory systems), its average body temperature ranges around 101-103 degrees. 

The metal pump on its chest serves to protect his secondary, protruding heart. Though it will not kill him if damaged, it has the potential to cause serious injury and trigger potential mutations.

Its tentacles are extremely sensitive outside of their combative uses. When relaxed, they provide stimulus directly to Nemesis' brain, and can be utilized for things such as smell, taste, and touch. 

The tentacles are each about 20-26 feet long, with a firm, fleshy texture like human muscle, and covered in microscopic orifices capable of secreting the T-virus.

In total, there are 30 places on his body in which Nemesis can extend his tentacles. The tentacles themselves essentially "live" underneath his skin and provide structural support to his body, appearing through small holes and gaps in its tissue.

While a majority of Nemesis’ bodily fluids are not infectious (saliva, bile, mucus... semen. Etc. They carry traces of the virus, but it is not potent enough to be deadly), his blood is highly toxic.

Nemesis has few weaknesses, but few is not none. Electricity, certain points of vulnerability such as the exposed heart or the base of the skull, and the brain are but a few of its major weaknesses.

Nemesis’ roar is incredibly effective at stunning his targets. His roar piques at 140 decibels in his humanoid form, and even louder when mutated, easily capable of rupturing eardrums.

Nemesis is selectively mute, but not by choice. Though he can speak, extensive mutations have essentially warped his vocal cords to the point where they cannot be adapted to human speech. The most he can handle is one or two syllable words.

Common words used in his vocabulary other than the ever-famous "S.T.A.R.S." include: mine, no, yes, kill, die. His voice is extremely deep and guttural, almost to the point of being incomprehensible at times. He also has no lips, so he struggles with pronouncing certain words.

He prefers to vocalize through growls, roars, chuffs, and is even capable of "purring."

It doesn't necessarily sleep, per se, but it does go through periods of recharge that are very similar to sleeping. He can go without sleep for an impressive 2 weeks, but will become less effective in combat as a result. When sleeping, he typically remains at rest for at least 2-10 hours, and does not experience the REM cycle.

His eyesight is decidedly poor in comparison to his other senses. Nemesis relies mostly on scent and sound when it comes to tracking his prey. He is able to detect scents and pheromones that remain undetectable to your average human, and he can hear/feel vibrations in the ground. Due to the lack of a pupil in his one remaining eye, Nemesis is incapable of filtering light through his retina.

Nemesis also has the ability to "parasitize" living hosts through egg implantation. The tentacles in his wrists have two small openings at the ends where he can lay eggs inside of a suitable host. The method in which he does this is particularly gruesome, seizing the victim by the head and pushing his tentacles in through the eye sockets, nostrils, and ear canals (anywhere he can access the cranium) and lay eggs. Once they hatch, the larva will eat the victim's brain and take over their central nervous system and all other bodily functions. Nemesis can control these lesser parasites through use of a hivemind-like system.

Like most species of worms and parasites, the protein present in Nemesis’ blood (haemerythrin) colors it a shade of purple.