#THEY RUBBED THEIR NOSES TOGETHER EVEN MOTHERFUCKER I THINK THEY DO THAT!!!!!!! YOU UNDERSTAND SO WHY DONT YOU PREACH?!?!?

[cowboy-robooty]

got desperate asf for some non-shitty heta fanfiction and said fuck it ill read the gerame fanfic cuz the author did make some good shit before (even tho i know it wont be THAT good since ill need to manually edit in my brain alfred as feliciano instead and make a whole extra unspoken lore to explain why feliciano is so ooc).... BUT LORD. IM CHEWING GLASS. IM CHEWING GLASS SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW. BECAUSE GIRL ITALY EXISTS IN THIS FIC AND OH MY GODDDD I HATE IT HERE I HATE IT LUDWIG STAY AWAY FROM THAT MAN STAY AWAY FROM THAT EVIL DEMENTED VILE MAN AAAAHHAUHWUSUDJJS STAY WITH FELICIA PLEASEEE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! LIKE STRAIGHT UP HE DONT EVEN LIKE ALFRED BRUH AND ALFRED DONT EVEN LIKE HIM. ill admit the set up is good (its like a 1950s au and the reason why i trust this author is a whole nother can of worms that i put in my drafts maybe ill drop it later) BUT I CANT EVEN CARE OR TRY TO CARE ABOUT ALFRED X LUDWIG BC FELICIA IS RIGHT THEREE AND THIS AUTHOR GETS THEIR RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER TOO. SHES LITERALLY LIGHT OF HIS LAIF MAKES HIM HAPPY IS SWEET AND NICE TO HIM TUGS HIM DOWN AND RUBS THEIR NOSES TOGETHER LIKE MOTHERFUCKER THATS TRUE. THAT HAPPENED IN REAL LIFE I SAW IT. SO WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WRITING THIS INTO A DAMN LUDWIG X ALFRED FANFIC IM CHEWING GLASSSSSS!!!! BC I KNOW FELICIA X LUDWIG WONT HAPPEN I HATE THIS STUPID BAKA LIFE I HATE IT HERE RAAAGJWJSIIEKDODKDKDKXKDKZKKS RAGE RAGE RAGE

so far its a genuinely good fic tho with some nice character development and being able to take a "real life universe" spin on heta characters which i find can rarely be done well! id rec it to any ameger fanheads out there!

peace and pascal! <- (im sorry im lying. im lying. tw lies. no peace only pascal. sorry i lied on main. its a good fic thats true. but i want the earth to explode. feels like im shoving my dick in an anthill)

[thinking1bee]

You Haven't Failed Part 2

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird

You stopped to grab Chinese food on your way back to the compound. Waiting in Fury’s office was Osborn, and you told him directly that there was nothing to find in his lab. His face visibly paled, and you heard his heart rate pick up as his eyes widened minutely. He swallowed thickly, jumbled, and insensible words falling from his mouth, but when he failed to say anything coherent, he quieted. Waves of unease rolled from him, and Fury looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What was in that lab, Norman?” Fury demanded. Norman only shook his head and left in a hurry, his legs taking him out of the office faster than even you could comprehend.

The moment he was gone, you set the food down, removed your mask, and looked at Fury. “What the hell was that about?”

He shrugged as he rubbed his forehead. “The hell if I know. I don’t understand these rich motherfuckers.”

You snorted before you removed a takeout container and a plastic fork from the bag. You placed both in front of him. He looked at it before he looked at you.

“What’s this?”

“Food, Nick,” you said pointedly as you closed the bag and gathered it in your arms. “You should try having something other than tequila. Your stomach and liver will thank you.”

He gave you a grateful smile and cracked open the carton to fork noodles and veggies into his mouth. “Have a good night, kid.”

You gave him a smile before retreating back into your shared room, which was more like a little apartment. Everyone had a space like yours to ensure privacy while there were shared spaces for team activities. You had a room a little farther away from the rest of the team, but it was fine. At first you hated it, but in time, you liked the privacy. It’d become a quick haven when you and Wanda first moved in together. Now, you both were thinking of getting a house. She wanted the backyard space to expand her garden. She appreciated the gardening space Thor made for her on the balcony, but she wanted to grow her own fruits and veggies, and there just wasn’t enough space on what little she had. She always said that she wanted to create something that didn’t revolve around the magic she wielded. Wanda could easily will one into existence, but she wanted to physically create one. She wanted the hard work and the sweat, and more importantly, she wanted it all with you. You loved her so much that you would give her the world. Anything that she wanted, you would ensure it happened. It’d been months of searching, but finally, Wanda found something that she fell in love with. A modest home in a place called Westview. You visited the neighborhood together, and you knew that this would be the home in which you would grow old with her. You saw a garden, a golden retriever, and maybe even some kids once you got there. Wanda always wanted to have them. She even told you the names that she picked out. Billy and Tommy. She was that sure that she would have boys, and you smiled all the same and told her that you couldn’t wait to experience this future with her. For now, that dream was on hold. You both still had a lot of work to do with the Avengers. There was still a galaxy and a universe to clean up from Thanos and his war. You had all the time in the world to be with her.

You could hear Wanda inside, and you smiled as the metal door to the room slid open. She turned to look at you, and placed the lighter in her hands down as she approached you. She gave you a tight hug.

“Hey, детка,” she greeted you, her nose buried into your neck as she breathed you in. She had on a shirt and jeans, and her suit was disposed of long ago after coming home from a long day at work. You were going to respond when she suddenly leaned away. Her nose was scrunched in disgust as she slightly turned her head from your direction. “Sorry, but you stink.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you, your chest shaking as delight filled you with warmth. “Oh, yeah,” you agreed. “The long day coupled with all the swinging I had to do? I’m not surprised that I smell like a boy’s locker room.”

Wanda took the bag of food away, set it on the counter, and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. You smiled and hummed, your eyes closing briefly when you felt the warmth of her soft skin against you.

“Give me 15 minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“Of course.”

When you returned, you were wearing a shirt and shorts. Your hair was damp and tied into a messy bun. Wanda saw the steam wafting from the bathroom, the scent of the floral soap you used filling the hallway. Wanda changed into one of your oversized shirts while you showered, and based on how wavy her hair was at the moment, she must have taken a shower sometime before you got home. She was waiting for you at the dinner table. The lighting in the room was dimmed, and resting on the table, besides the food, were a few lit candles. You gave her an endearing smile, the gesture so simple and yet, the love in your heart swelling all the same at how much effort she put into it. You came to her side of the tiny table and gave her a deep kiss on the lips. She hummed into it, her lips moving against yours before you pulled away and sat down.

“Thank you for this,” you said to her genuinely and she blushed.

“Of course. How was your day?”

“Busy. I had a bank robbery to clean up and something to do at Oscorp.”

“Oscorp? What happened?” she asked. You told her about the destroyed lab and how it was empty. Whatever threat was in there is now long gone. You were sure that Fury would team you up with Peter to do a sweep of New York tomorrow.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked as you explained. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wanda ate a potsticker while you ate some rice and sesame seed chicken. “How was your mission?”

She’d been gone on a mission that lasted a few days. It involved infiltrating a HYDRA base in Moscow. It was a routine B&E with a little bit of theft of their data. The agents were defeated, the hostages were released, and all the collected information was sent to Fury, who would in turn, send it to SHIELD. 

“The States have spoiled me,” she commented with a smile, her accent wrapping around her words. “I forgot how cold it was out there.”

Being from Sokovia, Wanda wasn’t a stranger to frigid temperatures, but it’d been a while since she was home. With it being winter on that side of the world, you suspected that it would be icy.

“Did you go home?” you asked her.

“Yes and no. I visited Pietro.”

Her brother. He died years ago, way before the conflict with Thanos happened. Wanda had him buried at home so that his final resting place would be with their deceased parents. You reached across the table and took her hand in yours.

“Are you okay?”

Wanda nodded, squeezed your hand tenderly, and gave you a genuine but sad smile. It still hurt her, after all these years, and you knew that it would continue to be a weight in her heart for the rest of her life. You would support her for as long as she wanted you.

“I will want you forever and ever, детка,” she murmured.

You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. Though you knew about her mind reading powers, it still surprised you to have her up there. You didn’t mind. There was nothing there that you wanted to hide from her.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry. Your thoughts are so loud though.”

“It’s okay.”

And it was. Wanda never read someone’s mind unless she had their consent, or the circumstances were dire. It felt like a huge invasion of privacy to her because she wouldn’t want someone in her head seeing things that were personal. However, you reassured her over and over that for you, it was okay. It felt intimate and nice to have her there. She was so in tune with you, after all these years, that sometimes you would have conversations with her without even moving your lips. Occasionally, it helped in arguments when you couldn’t voice what was on your mind, so she would look instead, and she would still know what was going on with you when you couldn’t verbalize it. Even now, she could hear how much you loved her even without you breathing a word.

When dinner was done, you cleaned up while Wanda threw out the trash. You turned to do the dishes really quick, and as you dipped your hands into the soapy water, you felt arms encircle around your waist from behind. A warm body pressed against your back while lips kissed the back of your neck. You giggled, the kiss tickling you as Wanda’s hands splayed across your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I just really missed you.”

“I missed you as well.”

You rinsed the dishes and placed them on the drying rack before turning around in her hold. Green eyes met yours and you leaned down to give her a passionate kiss. You really did miss the warmth of her body against you, and the kiss was more of a way to get reacquainted with her after days of being apart. But that kiss turned into another and another, your breath intermingling with hers when she gently nibbled your bottom lip. You affectionately walked her backwards until her body pressed against the cool metal of the stove. She breathed into you, her kisses getting sloppy as her body began to warm under your wandering touch. Eventually, your kisses dipped lower to her neck, your tongue and lips sucking marks into her flesh that peppered her skin just like her freckles. Soft, breathy moans left her as she began to pull up your shirt and expose your abs. A different kind of need inside of you was making itself known, and you grunted when you easily picked her up in your hold. You were hot, sweltering. It was the kind of heat that only Wanda could assuage, and that heat continued to increase as she loosely wrapped her arms around your neck and her legs around your hips. Your fingers tenderly dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, and you pulled her closer against your body. You groaned when Wanda grabbed you by the chin to place a soul stealing kiss on your lips. When she pulled back, she bit your bottom lip a little harder, and you gasped at the pain before Wanda chased it away with tender swipes of her tongue.

“Can we-?” you went to ask but Wanda was already nodding.

“Yes.”

“Bed?”

“Now,” she answered in a husky voice.

You could have easily walked her down the hall to the bed and laid her down without breaking the kiss at all, but Wanda was a tad bit impatient. You felt her remove an arm from around your neck. Then, there was a flash of red that you could see even behind closed eyelids. A wave of vertigo engulfed you when the floor suddenly wasn’t there, but it was only for a second when you felt the soft sheets of the bed beneath your back. When you opened your eyes, you immediately noticed that Wanda was naked, and so were you. The heat of her core against yours was an addicting fire, one where you wanted to be burned more than anything.

“I could have walked us, baby.”

She smiled, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip as she leaned over you. “There’s a time for romance, and there’s a time where I want you screaming for me, детка.”

You blushed, the visual of her words painted a picture of her using a strap on you. You could see her moving furiously between your legs, her strokes hard and fast, and you would be coming over and over beneath her until she was satisfied. Wanda saw your thoughts, and the smile she gave you was so sinful that your heart stopped dead in your chest. She said nothing as her eyes met yours. She pressed her lips against your neck before she made a slow descent on your body, her movements hurried and calculated at the same time. She paid extra attention to all your sensitive spots, the ones that had you fisting the bed with anticipation and lust. Wanda flashed you a smile as you squirmed beneath her, and as her lips aligned with your core, you watched as her eyes began to glow red. Magic wrapped around your hands before your arms shot up. The cool wood of the headboard chilled your palms as your hands pressed against it. They were glued there, the red pulsating around your heated skin as Wanda kissed your inner thighs and wrapped her arms around you to keep your hips pressed against the bed. She didn’t tease you any longer, her hunger for you growing too strong to fight against. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water. Even in the dark room, Wanda could see you glistening, your desire coating you thickly. With a groan, she surged forward to bury her tongue into your core.

Part 3

[writerlyhabits]

Not to be horny on main, but do you think Bucky would be good at eating 🐈🐱???

OKAY okay okay okay, you don’t understand, I’ve thought about this so many times. My homework can wait cause I have to answer this right now

Absolute filth below the cut someone take my tumblr privileges away

Bucky is a man out of his time, we all know this. Last time he saw some action was in the 40s before he got shipped off to war.

And sure, he was a ladies’ man, but I think its fair to say sex has changed in the last century

So while Bucky may be a bit inexperienced in that area...

He’s a fantastic learner

Your first time together there’s a little bit of a hiccup

He’s working on muscle memory here, and after he’s got you naked he’s ready to go right for it, cock in hand and lining up for the shot

“Woah woah woah, baby hold on” You’re quick to stop him when you catch on

Poor boy thinks he’s already hurt you, and he’s nothing but soft touches

You gotta walk him through it a little bit

“I’m not ready for you just yet Buck” like you’re giving him the teeniest female anatomy lesson “we just have to do a little foreplay”

He likes the sound of that

“Tell me what to do sweets, show me how to love you”

Well that helped

He’s crawling down your body, settling himself between your legs, wide-eyed and eager to please

“Using your fingers or your mouth will help, it’ll feel really good”

It’s almost comical the way his eyebrow arches, a smirk plastered on his face

“My mouth, huh?” His tone sends goosebumps over your body

“Your tongue especially. If you’re up for it-”

Before you can even finish he’s diving in headfirst, almost literally

He’s pressed his tongue flat against your folds, eliciting a moan from you, and he takes special notice when he reaches the top and you arch you back off the bed

He does this a few more times, watching your body react to him, finding what makes you feel good. But without any new results, he switches his tactic

He’s using the tip of his tongue this time, exploring that bundle of nerves at the top of his previous path. He rolls it around up there and his body lights on fire when your hands fly to his hair

He’s fucking obsessed

He’s got questions he wants to ask you in the back of his mind, he wants to know what he’s doing, to tell you how good you taste. But that can all wait, he doesn’t want to take his mouth off of your pussy for a second

You’re heaving, chest rising and falling rapidly as he absolutely devours you, and you can feel the coil building tighter

“Bucky baby, I’m close…”

No, not yet, I’m not done yet.

He just gives you a whine in response, and you can feel it through your body.

He’s a man on a mission, and he’s going to do what he set out to

He drags himself away from your clit, and you’re close to begging for him to go back, until his tongue shots through you, your walls clenching around him with the intrusion

Good god he’s in heaven

He’s trying to bury himself as far as he fucking can, his nose pressed up against your clit in the most delicious way, breathing in nothing but you

Remember how I said he’s a fast learner?

This motherfucker starts shaking his head so that he’s working his tongue inside of you and rubbing your clit at the same time

Not long after he pulls that stunt, you’re gone

Your legs clamp around his head as your body shakes, which does nothing to deter his actions as he works you through your orgasm, taking everything you’re giving him

You have to drag him off of you when your body starts jerking from overstimulation

“I’m gonna need a minute...” you laugh, and he looks far too pleased with himself as he climbs over you, kissing up and down your neck before he whispers in your ear

“When you’re ready for round two, I’ve got a few more things I want to try down there”

His mouth brings you over the edge more times that night than you can count, and he'll do it all over again in a heartbeat

...

Taglist: @janebby @lam-ila

Bucky Barnes: @toothhurtyam @keepingitlokiii @ragnaroqk

[charnelhouse]

ok TF poly boys. how do u think reader felt when she discovered that she likes all 4 boys???? like maybe it started off with a big crush on Will because of how good he treats her and is the ‘father’ of the group and then she also finds out wait she’s crushing on frankie bc of how soft but strong he is and then benny bc he’s so goofy and then santi bc come on, it’s santi. and at first she hates herself for thinking of all the boys like that and tries to talk herself out of her emotions but then it comes to a point where she can’t control how she feels and then the sex pollen thing happens and it’s like fuck how did i live without this

A/N: TF Boys x F!Reader. Violence. PTSD.

It goes like this:

There’s blood on your face - hot and tinny - it’s in your nose and you wonder if you might drown in this man’s life force.

Your hand shakes as you try to push him off you - as you try to roll out from under his heavy body. Your fingers are numb - little slits from the knife bouncing off bone. You cannot breathe and then the weight is gone and Will is there - his grip on your face soft and yielding as he mutters “hey - hey - baby - c’mon look at me.”

You want to tell him to not call you that, but your tongue is thick in your mouth.

“You saved me,” he whispers - running his knuckles over your cheek. “You - that guy was going to shoot me.”

You had. The kill was still fresh - still dressing you in blood. You don’t know why this one bothered you so much. Maybe because you could still taste it - maybe because you thought Will was going to die.

“Why’d you do that, you idiot,” he accuses - laugh cracking to the point where it sounds like a sob.

If only you knew - if only you knew - if only you knew

Will drops his brow against yours - intimate as a kiss. You dig your fingertips into his shirt - his back - to let him know you’re there.

You had thought you might love him - had felt it like a warm, soft fullness in your stomach. You had played with the idea. You hadn’t known for sure - not until you saw Will’s life in peril. Not until you realized that you might lose him.

I love you.

***

Frankie sticks to you like a shadow. You work well together. You understand each other. You see your kills in the same damaged light: we did what we had to do

One day, you get trigger happy. You’re too worked up - dripping in adrenaline and fucking fear. You step through the trail of bodies - your head feeling like it might roll off the stick of your neck. You glance up and there’s Will and Santi looking slightly nervous - faces ashen. Tom could give a shit, but you care about Ironhead - you care about Pope. You see judgment and it fucking hurts.

So you go outside - you step into the rain and feel the fall of it. It’s tepid and mossy and you think you might scream - you might bite through your lip or tongue and swallow your own blood.

There’s a warm hand on your shoulder and you already know. Frankie.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “It’s alright. It happens. I’ve been there.”

“That was wrong.”

He makes a thoughtful mouth sound. “It was. But everything we do isn’t exactly right, honey.”

He snatches your hand before he presses his mouth to the skin of your knuckles. It’s burnt - smelling of cordite and ash. His mustache tickles and when you meet his gaze - you’re once again stunned by how handsome Fish is.

“You save yourself,” he orders. “You save yourself every fucking time. I don’t care who you have to kill to do it.”

You want to say why - why do you even fucking matter. Why Why Why.

It’s like he reads your mind. His lips twitch. “I wouldn’t get over it.”

“Over what?”

“If you died.”

Oh.

***

Santi is a flirt. He’s a dirty motherfucker and he’s always silky with you. He likes to rub his cheek against yours - gripping your waist as he mumbles give me your skincare routine, baby girl.

You like it. He smells like aftershave and lichen and cigars.

One day, you fuck up a hit - you get knocked flat - a hairline fracture and it blows your cover because you become a liability.

You’re sprawled on the ground - blood streaming down your face and you want to cry. Not because it hurts, but because you had failed. You’re a woman. You have to work that much harder to win - to be taken even a fraction seriously.

“Fuck,” Santi hisses as he places a dirty towel against your temple. He’s eyeing you up and down. He tells you to count - to follow his gaze. You think you might throw up. You shove him off.

“Go Pope,” you plead. “Go finish this. Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he grits. “The mission is compromised. We need to make sure you’re okay.”

The tears come - despite how hard you try to hold them back. They come and come hard and you fully lose it in front of Pope. His lips part in surprise - his eyebrows lifting.

“Fuck - does it really hurt that much?”

“No,” you sob. “No - I - shit - I just can’t believe I ruined that.”

Pope’s expression morphs - understanding. He immediately grabs a hold of you - yanking you back into the next room to give you some privacy away from prying eyes or god the shitheads who won’t let it up because you’re a girl.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you say as you fist your hands into his tac vest. “I shouldn’t fucking be here. I-I screwed that up.”

“Shut up,” Santi murmurs - not unkindly. He drags his knuckle across your cheekbone, tilts your chin up with his calloused fingers. “You’re a fuckinng warrior. You’re it. Don’t underestimate what you can do.”

It always shatters your foundation whenever Santi gets serious - when he really wants to make a point.

He is so genuine - so stern and he blinks down at you as he strokes your face and you think oh my god - can you fit this much love inside you - these feelings that clog your veins and make your heart punch out. You want him. You want him for real. You want him as much as the others.

***

You think it’s weird to like Benny. You know how you feel about Will. Benny should be off fucking limits and yet -

You visit Will because he asks. You’re on leave and you wouldn’t mind seeing him - his town and his old stomping grounds and then there’s Benny. He’s in the service - he’s in other parts and pieces. You recognize so much of yourself in him. Benny is open-faced. He’s carefree. He’s far more emotional than his brother. He’s funny and sweet and he doesn’t focus on the shit - on the dark things all of you do.

At one point, Will needs to visit his high school for recruiting so he tells Benny to show you around. It goes wonderfully until it doesn’t.

Your PTSD rears its ugly head when you’re with him. You see something stupid - a grating noise - an engine popping so loudly that it knocks your skull. You freeze - your mouth drying as your heart pulls up to your throat.

You’re outside and yet the sky feel like it’s collapsing against the shell of your head. It’s too blue - the air orange with afternoon light. You struggle for breath as you screw your eyes shut and try to forget - not think of sand and blood and flames devouring flesh -

“Hey,” Benny says with the same tone you’d use for a startled horse. “Hey focus on me - my face.” He gently takes your hands - sweeping his thumb over the tops - making patterns across your warm skin.

He sounds like his brother - just a bit - just enough.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” he urges. “Why don’t we go see a movie - something super dumb.”

He spends the day distracting you. He gets you pizza - forces you to play video games. You bake Toll House cookies and drink too much whiskey and get stumbling drunk. You’re both sprawled out on the couch - tossing popcorn and catching it with your gaping maws.

“You know my brother talks about you like you’re a god,” he slurs - blinking at you sluggishly - his fingers tracing the giving fabric between you. He screws his face up. “-er well goddess is probably the better term.”

You scoff. “I’m neither.”

“Nah,” he shrugs. “I think I see it.”

You glance at him - your drunk spinning off into something incredibly sober. You have nothing to say to that and instead, you sink lower into the cushions.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur.

He touches your wrist - hesitant with only an edge of pressure. “Any time.”

[nymphbnny]

can I get a switch Jean x switch reader, and they are both cocky and think they're dom and they both are flirts but can't handle someone flirting back.oh and in the end reader ends up on top😉

a.n: hey anon!! i hope you like it <3. i love this request because i’m a switch and have always considered jean being one as well.

MINORS DNI // + 18

genre: nsfw

word count: 1.5k

pairing: switch jean x switch female reader

Eren was pressing tightly against you, his hands roaming around your body, his cologne intoxicating you as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, whispering the things he’d do to you if you two were alone.

You threw your head back, leaning on his shoulder, his hand wrapping around your throat. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Connie had invited you all to his house to celebrate his twentieth birthday and it was one of the best parties you have attended so far.

Eren’s hand slipped between your thighs, your focus back on his touch. Your eyes darted across the room to find Jean staring at you, a random woman sitting on his lap, leaving kisses from his jaw down his neck.

He tightened his grip on her ass making her giggle and poke his nose. Still, he looked unimpressed and jealous. You didn’t know if it was the booze kicking in, but Jean looked hotter than usual.

You couldn’t deny that you felt a lot of tension around him and wondered if he felt the same way. Little did you know that he did and was currently wishing that you were the one grinding yourself on his lap instead.

Part of you wanted him to be sliding his hand down your thigh and bite your shoulder. You hated that woman for being all over him, kissing and touching him, but you didn’t want to show him that you envied her. Instead, you turned around, swinging your hips around as you got down with the rhythm, your hands moving all over his body until your face was facing Eren’s crotch, and stood back up, your dress rising at a dangerous level.

Eren’s hands went down to squeeze your plump flesh, only to be pushed away by a tall figure.

Jean.

“Yo dude, that wasn’t cool.” Eren snickered but nevertheless left, not wanting to cause any trouble at Connie’s party.

You coked an eyebrow, crossing your arms against your chest, pushing your breasts up. “Not cool dude.” You went to turn around but he grabbed your arm and pushed you to him, your back colliding with his chest.

You heard him chuckled in your ear, his hand sitting on your lower stomach as the other toyed with your dress strap. “That was quite the show you put out there.” He gripped your hip and pushed you further back, your ass pressed on his bulge.

He made you feel aroused like no other, and all you wanted to do was to ride him until you come undone around his cock.

“Listen to me y/n” he paused, moving his lips next to your ear. “You belong to me, my property,” he whispered kissing your earlobe.

You turned around and gave raised a cocky eyebrow at him. “I don’t belong to you. And I am not your property.” You sassed, then proceeded. “But you are.” You purred in a sultry tone as you snaked your arm around his neck, your hand going down to squeeze his growing erection, a soft groan leaving his brown lips.

“Playing tough now huh?” he smirked.

“I don’t like the way she was touching you. Only I want to make you feel like this. You hear me?” you grabbed his jaw making him maintain eye contact with you.

The tension was indescribable. Your nipples were hard just from it, aroused to know what will happen next.

“If I see him touching you like that ever again, I’ll kill him doll,” he removed his face from your grasp and gripped your throat, “understood?”

Although you didn’t want to show it, he turned you on.

Alcohol mixed with energy drinks always made you horny. You felt powerful and wanted to top him. What you didn’t know is that he wanted to do the same thing as well.

Two tops can’t make a bottom. However, you had a theory in mind that you wanted to test out.

You nodded your head and grabbed his arm, dragging him with you to the guest bedroom.

You carefully locked the door behind you and turned around crashing your lips on his. His hands found their way to your cheeks before sliding down to grab your straps, carefully yanking them off your shoulders.

Your kiss was urgent, you wanted to take off all his clothes and run your hand all over his body. He was your possession and you wanted to leave your marks all over him.

You weren’t sure if that feeling of possessiveness came from jealousy or simply because you wanted to hump him, but it didn’t matter because by the time you tried to analyze what you were feeling, you both have already undressed each other, staring ravenously at your bodies.

“Touch me,” he commanded, guiding your hand over his toned chest to the partition of his abs. He flinched at your touch, a tint of pink appearing on his cheeks. You smirked as you moved your hand lower, but he was quick to stop you and walk you to the bed, gently pushing you on it.

Your back hit the mattress, your legs spread wide open to him. He stared at your cunt and smirked, sending a harsh slap to it. You yelped, quick to close your legs together.

“Ah, ah.” he taunted, gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, his long fingers drawing patterns next to your folds.

“Jean,” you squirmed, wanting to feel his fingers pump inside you. You felt soft and fragile, a feeling you weren’t quite used to having. But then you remembered that it was him, and his much bigger frame impacted you like no other.

“You’ve been acting so naughty.” he chuckled as he sent another smack to your pussy, this time holding your leg so it was impossible for you to hide your aching heat. “I’m going to fix this real quick.” he licked his middle and ring finger before pushing them in, his body leaning forward as his lips attached to one of your nipples, his other hand massaging your breast.

His fingers dug deeper, curling inside you, gently going over that spongy spot making you call out his name, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders.

His palm brushed against your clit adding to the friction, the pleasures he was making you feel becoming overwhelming. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you arched your back, your nails digging in his back. “Gonna come, shit, Jean.”

You whimpered as you released yourself around his fingers, your thighs shaking together.

He pulled himself up, licking your arousal off his fingers. He sat on his heels, approaching his tip to your entrance.

Before he could push himself in, you sat up and switched your positions so you could be on top of him. He gave you a questioning expression when you reached over to the floor to grab his belt and waved it in front of him.

You seized his wrists in your hand, wrapping the leather belt around them before tying it to the metallic headboard. “What are you even doing- oh fuck.” he whimpered as you rubbed his tip with your thumb, gently moving it over his slit.

“Be a good boy for me and stay still now hm?” you smirked sitting on your knees and bending over, your ass up and face close to his cock. You gave him a slow stroke, watching his mouth fall open.

You licked his tip teasingly, your hand still pumping his fat dick, loving how submissive he looked. You swirled your tongue around his pink tip then moved your head down, taking him down your throat.

“Shit,” he moaned throwing his head back, pulling at the restraint. You squeezed his balls, his whimpers getting louder. “Stop moving, or else I won’t let you come, understand?” He nodded rapidly, biting down on his lip.

Who would have thought that you would be ordering Jean motherfucking Kirschtein in bed? And holy fuck it felt mind-blowing.

You went back to sucking him, the sounds of your slurping and gagging combined. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his moans growing louder. You took it as a sign to pull away, an instant whine leaving his lips.

“No, no no please y/n, please, oh shit,” he hissed as you lowered yourself on him, coating his cock with your wetness. You felt him stretch your walls, his length burying itself deep in you.

You rested your hands on his legs as you bounced yourself, your previous orgasm and Jean’s twisted state making you dizzy all over again. He stared as your breasts moved every time you came in contact with his hips, his face reddening as if he realized the situation you put him into.

“Fuck you’re going to milk me so good. Gonna come so hard,” he grunted throwing back his head, locks of his brown hair stuck on his forehead from the sweat.

You were thankful that the music was loud enough to hide your moans and groans as you both got closer to your climax.

You ground yourself on him, your second orgasm ripping through your body, making you rest your hands on his chest for support. His mouth hung open as you tightened around him, clearly close to coming as well.

You pulled yourself up and bent down again to take him in your mouth. He bucked his hips up, his hands pulling against the belt once more, which was sure to leave bruises later on.

You felt him come in your mouth, ropes of cum going down your throat as you swallowed him. You pushed the excess that was on the corner of your lips in your mouth before you reached forward to untie his hands.

“Fucking hell where did that come from?” he panted, rubbing his wrists to soothe the burning sensation caused by the leather. You giggled and shrugged, grabbing some tissues to clean yourself.

“Guess we’re not as dominant as we thought we would be.”

[dreamii-yume]

I know his birthday is close, but

Cock sucking manipulative senpai Vil

Cock sucking manipulative senpai Vil

It seems like it's a trend amongst the third year birthday crumbs why stop a nice pattern

Yume’s a kinkii motherfucker, ya’ll know that, right? Darlings? (๑╹ω╹๑ ) Splendid, HOPE YA’LL LIKE SOME DICC MILK ON YOUR CRUMBS HAHA.

“Oh, my...Are you already done?” The hairs on your body stood on its end as soon as you heard Vil’s cold voice. You back straightened up out of instinct as you slowly dragged your mouth off your senior’s still hardened, seemingly unsatisfied dick. Aesthetically pleasing to look at and well-taken care of, exactly what you expect from Vil himself, but was extremely difficult to please. You started wondering if you’re really cut out for this job, or why you’re even here in the first place. “That’s quite the boring performance you gave me there, Darling.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, grimacing at the lingering taste of his precum on your tongue. You didn’t know how many times Vil had told you to suck him off over and over again, but just by the milky white substance dripping down your jaw and probably some in your hair as well since they feel so damped, you guessed it’s been quite a while. “...I-I just can’t, anymore...” His harsh criticism struck a nerve in your feeble little heart, mocking you for doing a terrible job on something that you weren’t really an expert on doing.

Embarrassment filled your core as you began wanting more than to stood up from where you were placed and walk away, but you can’t. Not when your hands are bounded tightly behind your back like this, your shaking knees can’t even carry you more than five meters away. They were but an incredibly soft strings of fabric, yet shows no signs of loosening up no matter how much you struggle against it. Obviously, it was something that Vil purposely chose himself, since the traditional ropes would’ve caused unwanted abrasions on your skin.

Despite knowing that however, you instinctively tugged on your restraints as some sort of defense mechanism against Vil’s condescending glare. “...I-I did what you asked, r-right...? Multiple times, actually…Surely, you must be satisfied no-“

“You must be so full of yourself to think something as pathetic as that can ever satisfy me.” You flinched as Vil raised his voice as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned closer to your face, enough to see your frightened expression. “Do tell me, what part of that was satisfying, huh?”

“You’re too dependent on your hands, so I binded them away. I was hoping that by doing that, you’d make the effort to do better with just your mouth, but all you gave me was disappointment, Dear.” He spoke without hesitation, drilling onto your head your flaws and imperfections. “Why do you shy away from using your tongue, I wonder? You should have the natural talent, and yet you barely used it at all. Don’t you see how wasteful you’re being right now?”

He gave out an exasperated sigh, having the audacity to act like he’s the one having the hardest time and not you. “Don’t think I didn’t see how you never swallow either.” He scowled. “You try to distract me by holding my seed inside your mouth like a chipmunk, but in the end, you spit them right back out. How rude.”

“T-That’s...” You tried to defend yourself, but stopped when he let go of your hair, patting them a bit to flatten some strands that’s been sticking out.

“Enough, it’s fine. I don’t need your excuses.” He said as his hand reached for something on a nearby desk, giving you a mesmerizing view on how long they really are. However, upon glancing down at you and seeing your pitiful expression, eyebrows scrunched up together and in the verge of tears, his eyes did soften up a bit. “...But I understand, you’re still my adorable little potato right now so, I don’t expect you to reach a professional level any time soon.”

You heard him giggle, which caught your attention and looked up at him, only to see an amused smirk formed in his lips. “So, I’ll just have to train you more until then.” He said, licking his lips seductively as you widened your eyes once you saw that particular item in his hand. “Be grateful, Honey.”

Once he saw you starting to recoil back nervously despite your restrictions, Vil grabbed you by the back of the head. “...You’ll do that for me, right? After all, it is my special day.” He cunningly whispered out as he revealed his special item close to you; a mouth-opening device. You let out incomprehensible, protesting noises as he forcibly clanked them onto your mouth, attaching them from the back of your head until it gave a satisfying click as a lock. Your jaw tightened, not used to having your gums pried open this far wide.

Content with being on his two legs alone, Vil chuckled down at you, who looked back at him fearfully. You tried to talk to him, to try and beg your way out of this, only to end up releasing panicked meekly sounds as drool began to drip down your jaw. “How adorable, keep making sounds like that and I might end up confusing you for a livestock that’s about to be slaughtered.” He mocked as he grabbed both the sides of your head as soon as you started shaking your head in defiance. “...You’re completely at my mercy, aren’t you?”

“Open your teeth for me.” His dominating voice demanded, making your body weaker than it already is. His sharp glare didn’t leave your teeth clattering against each other for too long, you soon opened a trembling entrance for his excited dick to pass through. He chuckled at your obedience, despite the hesitance and sense of unwillingness expressed through your actions. “...That’s a good girl.”

You let out one last squeal as he wasted no time in practically shoving his whole shaft inside your awaiting mouth hole. Closing your eyes shut, you desperately tried to ignore your activating gag reflex as you felt him rub against the roof of your mouth. He was long and thick enough to have you chocking as he hit the back of your throat. You already had many instances where Vil ‘trains’ you to take him more confidently like this, but you just don’t believe that this was something that you can get used to in a short-time period. But you were sure he’d be disappointed again if you don’t try your best though and you didn’t want to start over again.

Vil sighed slightly as you nervously began to use your tongue to increase his pleasure in-take, hoping that coating him with your own saliva could make his thrusts a little less rough. Thankfully, it seemed like it was the correct decision to make as you practically heard him give out a smirk, his hands staying on your head as he moved his hips back and forth. Gurgled sounds came out of you as he repeatedly knocked on the back of your throat, saliva already slipping out of your strained lips. “...That’s right, you’re doing better now than before, you learn fast too…I like this part of you, it’s endearing.” Vil praised you as a way to encourage you on your efforts even more. “See? I knew you had this in you.”

Giggling, his thrusts began to transitioned in a more fast-paced, harsh kind of way all the while grabbing a fistful of your hair as a lever. Your teeth grazed against the base of his cock, sending shivers of pleasure in Vil’s system that could drive any man crazy. Luckily, his self-control isn’t all that weak-willed, though that’s not to say that he didn’t want it. He could at least say that it was addicting, some kind of pleasure button that he wanted to abuse constantly and bring himself to cum just by your salivating mouth alone. But he had stamina and he could go on forever if he so desired, forever locked onto the warmth of your mouth without necessarily cumming.

However, despite all of that, Vil knew better not to take too much advantage of his new-found enjoyment that it is your mouth hole. It’s not fun to play with a broken toy after all, you’re a pretty little thing too so that would be too wasteful. “I think it’s about time, Love.” Vil whispered, but you only ended up squealing in surprise with your eyes going as wide as saucers as he buried himself inside you in suffocating manner. “Make sure to take it all in, okay?”

Inhaling through your nose, you gasped out a choke as you felt his hot, thick semen exploding from inside your mouth. It filled up space really quick, since there wasn’t really any to begin with and slipped down your jaw. Most importantly, you felt the stream-like substance flowing down your throat and into to your esophagus, filling your stomach up without even trying. You whimpered once you realized that his ejaculation period had finally stopped after a while, but he kept a strong hold against the back of your head. “No, I’m not gonna pull out yet.” Vil strictly said, staring down at your teary, begging eyes. “I did say to take it all in, right? As long as there’s still cum that you have yet to swallow, I’m not pulling out.”

His eyes were testing you, mocking you to do better for yourself but you knew deep down that no matter what you do, he’ll still get the upper hand regardless. Still, you couldn’t just hang around bounded in the floor like this with his twitching dick in your mouth, your jaw is killing you. So, with a heavy heart, you tried to swallow what was left inside your mouth, even going as far as licking the head of his dick to rid it off some remaining semen. You felt disgusting, like you’ve really downgraded yourself into a sex slave, a pig, only for Vil’s personal use. You’re not quite sure on how to get out of this predicament afterwards, or even if it’s possible to do so.

As if he already knew that his dick was licked clean and cum completely swallowed by you, he slowly pulled out, dragging your saliva in a messy fashion. A thin bridge of it was connected to the head, a clear evidence that you even tried licking him off and it really stirred the embarrassment in the bottom of your stomach. You whimpered as he even had the audacity to place his wet dick on your cheek, dragging some disgusting fluids across your skin by practically slapping you with it. Soon, you heard Vil chuckle and flinched as it turned into a full-blown laughter, like a wicked queen when her everything goes according to her plan. He placed a hand on your head, patting you like a pet for a job well-done.

“Haa...That was amazing, Honey. You certainly made my day, thank you.” He said with a smile, surprisingly not a mocking one or a smirk for that matter but a genuine grateful smile. It made your stomach churn to see he could still smile like that despite what he just made you do. “Now, it’s just common sense to give you a well-deserved reward now, right? You’ve done such a good job after all~!”

He then pulled away from you, giving you a sense of relief that everything was over, that you don’t have to do any more humiliating things but...It was odd, if his so-called ‘training’ is already over, why was he not releasing you out of your binds? Your jaw is cramping from your mouth being spread open like this that it was really starting to hurt real bad. Somehow, you didn’t like where this ‘reward’ was gonna go.

Vil came back with a generous slice of his own birthday cake, carefully cut with its beautiful edible decorations still in-tact. There weren’t a single crumb on the plate, suggesting how clean the slice really was. He was smiling and you thought you saw his cheeks pinker than usual, but that could just be his make up like always. It’s kinda out of place and bizarre to see him getting flustered now of all times anyway. With a fork, he cut a piece of cake and slowly brought it close to you.

“Say ‘aah’, Darling.” You were confused at first, not trusting his all of a sudden act of kindness. He still has the mouth-opener clasped onto your gums; how does he expect you to eat that? However, just when you thought to give up trying to make sense of the situation and actually lean closer to let the delicious piece of cake enter your open mouth, Vil stopped. “Oh—“

You flinched as his eyes focused on your jaw and you panicked, wondering what it is. He then smiled eventually, but one that is clearly laced with mischief. “...You missed a spot.” He said, as his long finger traced over a line from your jaw to the one side of your lips. Lifting up his finger in front of you showed a small, yet thick bits of cum that escaped you earlier. “You shouldn’t waste such nourishment, Darling~”

Then, to your utmost shock and disgust, he scraped off the semen on the piece of cake that he was about to feed you. It joined along the other ingredients of the food in a scarily well manner, as if that tinge of white had already been one of the decorations from the start. You were left speechless, but Vil only smirked at your reaction, seemingly finding extreme enjoyment in your cute shocked face. “Alright...” You flinched, physically retracting away but can’t really go any far than you already are now as he brought the fork closer to your open mouth. “I’ll say it again.”

“Say ‘Aah’~”

Is it obvious? IS IT OBVIOUS that Euphoria is affecting the way I’m writing right now? Because YES, it is affecting me so bad OMG— I need to get it out of my system because I can just TELL that this will affect me in the future too lol

Vil reminded me of Nemu and I’m— *sob* I thought I was sinful, but Euphoria is traumatizing—

[hangovercurse]

Stay With You ii

You get the call after Rook’s accident and go to the hospital to take care of him.

Requests: “ Could you maybe write another Rook story about where you get the call after his accident that he’s in the hospital and just always staying there with him and when his dad shows up he sees you leaning on the bed sleeping holding Rooks hand or something and he knows you’ll take care of him? I just really love Rook “ “ I was wondering if you know what happened to rook and if you could write something cute like taking care of him after being worried at first about him. I had a mental breakdown when we got the news I'm hoping he gets well soon “

JP “Rook” Cappelletty X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of the accident (violence, broken bones, etc.), angst

A/N: I needed something happy to come out of this situation so... I wrote it.

Word Count: 2372

part i

You woke up a few hours later to Rook moving under you, your eyes finding his instantly. “Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked as you sat up, a smile on your face as you saw that the bruising on his face was fading. He had clearly just woken up as well, sleep still in his eyes.

“Better, I think. Awake.” You nodded, moving the pillow from his lap.

“Your dad’s here.” You said softly, nodding your head towards the man who was sleeping in the chair against the wall. You giggled at the sight and Rook let out a chuckle.

“I’m hungry” He whined and you frowned, remembering what the anesthesiologist told you about no food 8 hours before surgery. He was scheduled to go in at 10 am, and it was currently 5 am.

“I’m sorry, babe. The doctor said no food until after the surgery. I can see if they’ll let you eat jello if you want.” He frowned and you reached up to rub his face. You could tell this was going to be a long 8 weeks.

Truth be told, Rook was a baby when he got sick. He would lay in bed and whine until you agreed to cuddle with him. And if he wanted something, he would pout until he got it. But you kind of loved it. “I’ll be right back.” You whispered, standing up to go find a nurse.

He smiled at you, “can you hand me my phone?” He asked. You moved to the other side of his bed where his phone lay on a table and handed it to him. “I’m gonna see if Colson’s still up.”

You nodded, happy that the two boys were so close. You put your mask on and left the room, flagging down one of the nurses working the night shift.

When you got back into the room with 2 cups of lemon-flavored jello, Johnny was up and the father and son were having a light conversation. You set the cups on the tray and moved it so it was in front of Rook. He tried to raise his hands but you could tell he was struggling. He let out a sigh and looked at you, embarrassment in his eyes.

You smiled lightly, trying not to giggle at his helplessness. “Do you want me to help you?” You asked and he gave a nod, pouting. You adjusted his bed so he was sitting up fully.

“Can you sit next to me?” Johnny let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes a little bit.

Rook tried to shift over in the bed, but you could tell it was hurting him. “Baby stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You sighed.

“I want you to sit on the bed with me.”

You looked at his dad, an exasperated look in your eyes. He just chuckled and turned back to his phone. “I don’t want to hurt you.” You frowned, taking notice of the fact that there was very little room on the bed to begin with.

He squinted his eyes at you, still pouting. “You won’t hurt me.” You raised your eyebrow and moved to sit halfway on the bed, your right thigh resting on the mattress but the majority of your weight still on your left foot on the ground. “Not good enough.”

You rolled your eyes, scooting closer so that your back was against the back of the bed, turned on your side. He smiled, reaching his arm up slowly to try and wrap it around your shoulders. You glared at him, but he shot you a “My hand is broken, not my arm.”

You sighed, sitting up and leaning onto his chest, where you knew he wanted you. You pulled your other leg onto the bed, careful not to put any pressure against his. You leaned up slightly, putting weight on your right hand as your left grabbed the jello cup beside the bed. He opened his mouth and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t like how much you’re enjoying this.”

You placed a small spoonful of the yellow food into his mouth, making him smile. “In a few years, its gonna be you in this bed and I’ll be feeding you jello.” You tilted your head at his words, furrowing your eyebrows. “Y’know, when you’re giving birth to our kid.”

You blushed, a smile making its way to your face. You knew JP wanted kids at some point, and you did too. But you guys had never really talked about it. And now he was bringing it up so casually. Before you could respond, the door opened, and in walked Colson with a backpack full of what he called “everything Rook will ever need,” which you assumed to mean weed and tequila.

Rook smiled, “Yo, dude, what’s up?” Colson threw the bag onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed from you.

“How are you, man?” Colson asked, throwing himself onto the chair next to it.

Rook shrugged, “I’ve been better.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes, a small giggle coming from you. “Y/N’s feeding me, so it’s not too bad.”

His dad spoke up, “You’re forcing Y/N to feed you jello, you mean?” You laughed at that as Rook’s shoulders fell. “Nice to see you, Kelly.”

“You too, Johnny. I like the new hair.” Colson smiled at the older man, who thanked him. “So, what did the doctors say?”

Rook gave him the rundown, one surgery today, Wednesday, and another on Friday. Casts on his hands for 6 weeks and on his legs for longer. The four of you spoke for a while afterwards and then Colson pulled out a game of connect four (which you raised your eyebrows at but Rook seemed excited about it).

Eventually the Anesthesiologist, Dr. Stenson, came in with a few nurses to take Rook to surgery. You had to climb off the bed, much to Rook’s dismay. “I can’t go into surgery with you, dummy.” But part of you wished you could stay with him because you did not like the way those nurses were looking at him. Colson noticed your distaste and chuckled, causing you to send him a glare.

“He’s going to be very drowsy when he comes back once the anesthesia wears off.” Dr. Stenson said, and you smiled at the thought of Rook on anesthesia, which he claimed would be “just like being high.” Dr. Stenson shook his head at that.

Before he was wheeled out of the room on his bed, he made grabby hands at you as best as he could. You leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his quickly. “I love you, Y/N” He said, quietly. He didn’t mind anyone else hearing, but he wanted these words to be only for you.

“I love you too.” You said, just as quietly. He leaned back up to kiss you again, making you smile. You were starting to love helpless Rook; it was just endless attention and neediness.

The nurses took him off to surgery, leaving you, Johnny, and Colson alone in the room together. You collapsed onto the chair you had slept in, letting out a sigh as Colson chuckled at you. “Shut up.” You scrunched your nose at him, curling into the chair and bringing the pillow under your head.

“You guys are cute, what?” He asked, defensively, but the smile on his face was anything but.

You pouted, trying to push yourself further into the chair to find some comfort, but you knew your attempts to sleep were futile. You groaned, sitting up and throwing your head down towards your chest. “I’m so tired.” You mumbled, causing the two men to laugh.

“This is your life for the next 2 months.” Johnny chuckled. “If he doesn’t marry you after this then you need to leave his ass.”

You chuckled, the irony of his dad telling you that made it even funnier. “I can’t believe he still hasn’t proposed.” Colson shook his head in disappointment.  

A laugh fell from your mouth. “It’s funny how everyone is more impatient than I am for my own proposal.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so patient! I’ve barely been with Megan a whole year and I already wanna marry her.” Colson threw his head back against the back of his chair.

“I mean it’s not like I’m worried it’s not gonna happen. We were just talking about kids. He just doesn’t feel the rush, I guess. I don’t either, what’s the big deal with getting married anyways?”

Colson tilted his head at you, “It’s like, this huge proclamation of your love. Like you’re telling the whole world that you’re gonna love each other for the rest of your lives.”

You shrugged, looking down at your nails. “I mean, we don’t really need big proclamations. It’s in the little things. I love him, he loves me.”

You could feel both men’s eyes on yours and heat ran to your cheeks as you thought about the idea of a white dress. “But you do wanna get married, right?” Johnny asked and you smiled.

“Of course, I just don’t want to push him into something like that. He’ll ask when he’s ready.”

Colson shook his head as you looked back up, “He is one lucky motherfucker. Literally every other person would’ve kicked his ass by now.” You chuckled, not saying anything. “Wait you guys were talking about kids?”

You nodded, “right before you got here, actually.”

Colson furrowed his eyebrows, “I never saw him as the type, honestly.”

You smiled widely, “He brought it up.” Colson shrugged, a hum coming from his mouth. “I think it’d be kinda nice. I don’t know how it would work with him being on tour all the time, but that’s a discussion for another day.”

“I seriously can’t imagine Rook being a dad.”

“Can you imagine Rook getting married?” You giggled as Colson shook his head.

“Well I, for one, am looking forward to being a grandad, so hop on that.” Johnny said and you laughed. You spent the rest of the time while Rook was in surgery playing connect four and eating shitty hospital food, trying to keep your mind off the fact that Rook was in fucking surgery.

When he did get back, it was a sight to behold. The nurses wheeled him back into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Y/NNN!” He slurred, “Look at my beautiful girlfriend.” He said to the nurses and you and Colson busted out laughing. “She’s so cool. She comes on tour with me sometimes, and we partyyy.” He made a dancing motion with his arms even though they his right was in a very large cast.

“Okay Rookie, the nurses are gonna leave now, okay?” You said, trying to hide your laughter. The nurses gave you a look of thanks and left the room after leaving you with a list of what he could and couldn’t do. Colson took his phone out and started recording, knowing that whatever Rook was gonna say next would be funny.

The surgery went well according to them, but the doctors would be in later when the medicine wore off to tell you more. “How are you feeling?” You asked, knowing he wouldn’t give a real answer.

“I feel greeeat. I’d feel better if my fiancé were laying with me right now, but other than that I am just fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow, an amused look on your face. “Your fiancé?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“When did you propose?” You giggled, looking over to his dad and Colson who were both cracking up.

A look of realization crossed Rook’s face, “Oh shit, I forgot that step, didn’t I?” You nodded, “Do you wanna get married?” You bent over in laughter at his innocent expression. He pouted at you, whining. “Why are you laughing I’m asking you to marry me?”

You tried to speak through your laughs, “I’m sorry babe.” You took a deep breath in, “I’m not laughing at you.”

“So, you don’t wanna get married?” He asked, getting very upset.

“I do, baby. I do. But you gotta get a ring.”

“Oh yeaaaah.” He looked over at Colson. “Colson, where’s the ring?” Your head snapped to Colson, whose face went red.

“Dude you didn’t get a ring.” He tried to cover it up but you could tell he was lying.

Your eyes went wide and your mouth hung open. “Yes I did, I told you to bring the ring with you when you came.” He whined.

You giggled, hand going to your mouth. “Oh wait.” He said, turning back to you. “I can’t ask you to marry me right now. I gotta get down on one knee and my legs are broken.”

Johnny had an amused look on his face when you looked over to him for help. “Okay, Rookie. I’ll forget that you proposed and then when your legs get better you can do it again, okay?”

He nodded, “But you’ll still say yes, right?”

“I’ll still say yes.” You smiled, eyes closing as you continued to laugh. “You should get some sleep, hun.” You moved his braids out of his face.

“I wanna cuddle.” He pouted.

“You just had surgery; I can’t give you cuddles.” You frowned as he looked sad.

“Why don’t you love me?”

“I do love you, Rookie. I just can’t cuddle you with your arm broken.” You could hear Colson wheezing from the opposite side of the bed. “Get some sleep and we can cuddle when you wake up.”

He groaned but leaned back into the bed anyways, slowly drifting off to sleep. You turned to Colson, eyes wide and face red. “You had a whole conversation about marriage while you had his ring in your bag?” You whisper screamed.

He raised his hands up in surrender, “I was just doing what I was told. I didn’t think he’d propose to you while he was high off his ass on anesthesia.” He chuckled.

Johnny chuckled, “at least you got it on video.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, putting your face in your hands.

“Congratulations!” Colson said, eyes swinging up in the air.

[letsfluxshitup]

the fuck just happened

(tw: minor injuries&blood talk and an excessive use of the fuck word)

Manberg was blown up, Schlatt was dead, Techno was a traitor, and he couldn’t trust fucking anyone, could he? He’d trusted Schlatt, he’d trusted Techno, hell, he’d trusted Wilbur, trusted him not to be a stupid motherfucker, and here he fucking was, bleeding and bruised and exhausted. 

Blood was steadily dripping from a wound in his side that he didn’t care to look at, and muscles burning from all the walking, he needed to get the fuck away, away from everyone and everything. He wasn’t at all paying attention to his surroundings, too busy cursing out Schlatt, and Wilbur, and fucking Technoblade, when he stumbled over a rock. 

Someone caught him around the waist, though, and he was hauled back into a warm chest. He hadn’t noticed how cold it had gotten. 

“If you’re gonna kill me at least let me set my spawn first,” Quackity deadpanned, too tired to even consider fighting. “I’ve gotten too far to restart now, alright?”

He was guided down into a sitting position, and then he was met face to face with a concerned Techno. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and they both stared blankly at each other.

“I’ve got a place nearby if you need somewhere to stay,” Techno whispered, trying to preserve the fragile silence.

Quackity stared at him, thinking. It was dark, mobs were sure to start appearing, and he was tired.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, “lead the fucking way, big man, I don’t have any other options. Asshole.”

Techno just sighed, helping Quackity to his feet again, lightly nudging a bruise forming on Quackity’s temple with his nose. Quackity froze, stumbling, before Techno’s hands steadied him. That was a piglin thing, wasn't it? Some way of showing affection? 

Techno’s arm stayed looped around his waist, guiding him along as they walked. Quackity wanted to shrug him off, tell him to go to hell for acting all friendly after killing everyone, but he was cold and Techno was warm. He’d earned this after all the shit he’d put up with, Techno’s shit included.

Quackity hadn’t realized how tired he was once they’d started walking again, and his blinks lasted longer and longer. He leaned more heavily on Techno, sighing as he realized Techno would have to carry him again, but that didn’t really bother him, being carried by Techno was nice. Having his arms wrapped around him, coddling but not cloying.

It made him feel safe, and cared for. Made him feel loved, even, when it was back in Pogtopia, and it was late and cold and Techno cuddled him to his chest in his sleep, purring in his ear as he sleepily nuzzled his neck. His breath would tickle the back of Quackity’s neck as he let out a sleepy sigh.

Quackity blinked awake, the phantom sensation of Techno’s breath on his neck lingering as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He was in a neat room, lit by a fireplace across from the bed. The room was decorated in warm colors, quilts and blankets laying on every comfy surface.

There was a desk next to the bed, and Techno sat there, focused on a letter he was writing. The candle on the desk reflected off his glasses, and Techno wore glasses? Quackity couldn’t help but think how cute he looked with them, a gold thin chain attached to delicate frames looped around his neck.

Of course Technoblade had old lady glasses.

Quackity awkwardly cleared his throat, and Techno immediately turned towards him.

“Do you need anything?” He said, voice soft as he set his pen down. 

Quackity just huffed, shifting around on the bed. His injuries seemed mostly healed, and that explained the bone deep tiredness he felt. The gash on his side still throbbed though, wrapped in bandages and slathered with salves. At least Techno knew what he was doing.

When he didn’t say anything Techno stood from the desk, heading for the door.

“I’ll make you something to eat, stay right there.” He said, voice soft in the firelight. He looked gentle, kind, in this light. He was wearing a loose white shirt that Quackity could only describe as a pirate shirt, and fitted black pants. He looked ruffled though, not perfectly put together like he normally was. 

He looked human. 

Or, well, mortal, like he was on the same plane of existence as Quackity instead of somewhere above everyone else. It was a good look on him. There was a mess of light cuts and bruises mottled his face, and Quackity was filled with the overwhelming urge to check over every injury, to make sure he was ok. 

Techno had a strange look on his face when Quackity refocused on him, contemplative and soft. He didn’t say anything as he left the room, the crackling of the fire punctuating the soft swish of the shutting door.

When Techno came back, he was holding a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. He settled at the desk again, holding out the bowl to him. 

“What? You’re not gonna feed it to me?” Quackity snarked, tired and irritated, irritated at everything that had happened, irritated at how cute Techno looked when surprised, with the firelight softly highlighting his features, expression unbearably soft.

Techno sighed, before pulling the chair closer to the edge of the bed, and holding out the loaded spoon. Quackity decided very quickly that if getting blown up and killed earned him this soft doting Techno then it was absolutely worth it. 

Quackity took pity on him, though, and took the bowl from him after the first bite.

After he was finished eating, he patted the bed next to him. Techno looked at him, soft expression back in place, before turning to change into pajamas. When Quackity looked back at him he was wearing his potato-patterned nightgown and Quackity couldn’t help his snort.

Techno laid down in the bed next to him, cupping Quackity’s smaller hands in his own. His hands were rough and calloused from work and fighting, and he lightly stroked Quackity’s fingers and palms. He was quietly looking at Quackity’s hands, pressing their hands together to compare, and Quackity’s were almost laughably small compared to his. 

Quackity opened his mouth to say something, anything to diffuse this soft tender moment, something he felt like he was intruding on despite being a part of.

Techno leaned his head down, before looking up at him through his eyelashes, a soft I’m sorry floating between them as Techno’s breath ghosted across his hands.

“It’s- It’s alright. Well, it’s not alright, I guess, but- I dunno-” Quackity stuttered, frustrated, feeling open and raw in front of Techno, in the soft firelight with his hands being gently held. “I get it, I guess. You weren’t just being an ass, or trying to be the bad guy.”

Techno made a noncommittal sound, back to inspecting Quackity’s hands.

“Would it be ok?” He whispered to Quackity’s hands, “Would it be ok if I was the bad guy?”

Quackity wanted to snort at the cheesy line, or shout because everything was happening so much. 

“I don’t- I’m tired, Techno, fucking tired of everyone telling me who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy and who to trust, all right?” Quackity huffed, grabbing Techno’s face. “From now on there’s no good or bad between us, alright? It’s just me and you now, ok?”

“Ok,” Techno replied, voice soft and wavering slightly, and eye contact wasn't normally Techno’s strong suit but there was no way he could look away from Quackity now.

“Ok. Cool.” Quackity huffed, before brushing the hair out of his face and flopping back on to the bed.

Techno grinned down at him, before remembering the letter he had left on his desk.

“I wrote to Philza, my d- friend. Associate. Ally. He raised Wilbur and Tommy? Uh, anyways, I updated him on the… situation.” He didn’t need to clarify, the smoking crater of Manberg vivid in their minds. “I was thinking we could go visit him for a while, he’s got a nice little set up."

Quackity just nodded, ignoring his stuttering over Philza's role in his life, a soft smile on his face as he reached up to rub at the flush spreading across Techno’s face. Techno could say what he wanted but Quackity knew.

“I was thinkin’ we could invite Tommy and Tubbo and maybe even Wilbur, when things have settled? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see his kids again." He flushed slightly, "I mean, if you want to go, you don’t have to, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to-”

He cut himself off, reaching up to hold Quackity’s hand against his face where it had moved to cup his cheek.

“Aw, Techie, you taking me to meet the parents? Gettin’ kinda serious, aren’t ya?” Quackity grinned at him, voice soft as he continued. “I’d love to. Even if it means I have to see that Wilbur bastard again.”

Techno just snorted before flopping down into bed next to him, burying his face in his neck and he’d gotten caught up in the fighting and the bloodlust and the drama, he’d forgotten how nice it was to just settle down and relax and be safe. 

Quackity was safe, he decided quietly.

[boxofbadaddiction]

A Reason to Smile

Fred Weasley x Reader

This Story is inspired from a request of my Movie Lines Prompt List.

Prompts: 4, 10 & 16

"Let's put a smile on that face."/"Go ahead, make my day."/"Yippee ki yay, Motherfucker."

Warnings: Swearing. Umbridge.

Y/n woke up in a foul mood. With less than 3 hours sleep after having spent the whole night in detention with Umbridge and just can't seem to find a reason to smile. Even the thought of spending the day with her best friends, Fred and George, fills her with somewhat dread.

She doesn't want to see anyone. Do anything. Or go anywhere. Which is totally unideal for a Saturday. If things were to go her way she'd just roll over and stay in bed.

But she's starving so there's just no avoiding the inevitable.

Begrudgingly she pulls herself from her bedsheets and readies for breakfast.

As she arrives in the Great Hall she keeps her eyes trained to the floor, bee-lining for a place far enough away from the other students in her House to simply eat in peace before disappearing back to her dorm for the day.

But of course, with Fred and George as your best friends, how could she have possibly expected that to go to plan?

"Hey, y/n/n!" One of the Twins shout as they made their way over to her House table for breakfast. Their typical peppy demeanour mocked her, as it seemed impossible to draw herself from her current bad mood. Unable to even muster a fake, courteous smile for the sake of conversation.

"What happened to you last night?" spoke George as they sat either side of their dishevelled appearing friend. "Popped out to hand in some homework and we never saw you again. What'd you get lost?" He teased, nudging her shoulder in the process while his brother chuckled at the remark.

"I'm sorry I disappeared but please guys not today. I'm not in the mood."

"Woah, what's with the tone, love? And not in the mood? Please! You're always in the mood for us" Fred goaded pulling y/n into his side by her waist. A guesture which would usually have her leaning into his touch but not today.

She shook herself from his hold with a huff, leaning onto the table she propped her head up by the palm of her hand.

Neither Twin knew how to react, she'd never been so put off by them before. "Y/n...are you okay?" Fred asked sincerely. Both boys were eyeing her concernedly.

Y/n avoided eye contact, staring fixedly at her, now cold, bowl of porridge as she stabbed at it with her spoon. That's when Fred noticed it. The pink discolouration on the back of her hand. His heart dropped at the sight. She'd obviously been with Umbridge last night.

"Y/n-" his voice was firm as he spoke, drawing her and Georges attention immediately, his eyes flicked briefly to hers before focusing solely on the forming scar. "Your hand."

"It's nothing." Y/n straightened herself tucking her hand into her lap with a slight wince as the fabric of her clothes caught the still tender surface of her wound. Her other hand came to grip at its forearm to distract herself from the dull throbbing pain which now coursed through her hand.

"It's not nothing!" Fred snapped harshly, but as a whisper so not to draw too much unwanted attention.

George delicately reached across her lap lifting her injured hand into the light, his own eyes near shaking as they searched desperately between hers and his brothers expressions before inspecting the words she'd been forced to carve into her own flesh all night.

"I will obey the rules" he read the words aloud, the very phrase causing a sick bile to rise in each boys throat.

"I was busted on my way back. She told me I need to 'be more aware of the company I keep' less something like this happen again" y/n mumbled with distaste, her eyes locked determinedly onto the tables edge.

There was a moments silence between the three, all seemingly afraid to speak, before George stood abruptly, storming from the hall. An action which caused y/n to close her eyes tightly, drawing a sharp breath in, attempting to distract from the tightness that'd formed in her chest in knowing the effect her words had on the pair.

She never intended on telling them about the detention. They'd surely blame themselves for her being out past curfew as it was their idea to meet up in the first place. But it's not like she didn't understand the risk of what she was doing when she did it.

They knew those few words all too well. Umbridge had spoken them to her before, countless times by this point.

The first time, the Twins had been pestering y/n in the courtyard when she approached. They were lounged about one of the concrete benches under the courtyards largest tree. Freds head was in Y/ns lap, as she read, poking her cheek in an attempt to gain her full attention whilst George sat on her otherside, all his weight pressing against her as he sighed boredly.

Umbridge had deemed their behaviour 'not school appropriate' and 'not in compliance' with Educational Decree Number 31; as Boys and Girls are not permitted to be within 8 inches of each other.

The Brothers had laughed at her, a poorly timed 'you're kidding' thrown her way as Fred swung his legs off the bench now sitting upright. A few more cheekily placed comments landed the pair in detention for the night.

She highly disapproved of y/ns relationship with the Twins and had no issue voicing the fact and so before parting she'd issued that very same warning to y/n, stating matter-of-factly; "You should be more cautious of the company which you keep. Such a promising young witch, it'd be a shame to see your talents go to waste or future be tarnished for that matter by the carelessness of others whom are less gifted." She'd uttered the words with sharp glares thrown down her nose to the two Weasleys.

From that moment it'd become somewhat of a catch phrase for her everytime the threesome caught her attention.

Y/ns head dropped, mumbling a soft "I'm sorry, Fred."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, love." He rubbed small comforting circles on the lower of her back before pulling her waist as he had done so earlier. Inching closer so their legs were pushed flush together as he rest his chin atop her shoulder nestling into her neck. A touch which, this time, she did not shy away from - rather craning her head back to rest against his.

"I just don't think I'm someone you'll want to be around today." She admitted sadly, "I can't bring myself to enjoy anything."

"Well that just won't do" Fred pulled his head back to look into her eyes with a cheeky knowing expression. But even that wasn't enough to bring a rise to her saddened features. "Come on," he nudged her shoulder, "let's put a smile on that face." He spoke with a smirk.

"Reckon you can?"

"Of course!" Fred nodded with a tone of absolutely certainty.

"Well go ahead, make my day." Y/n challenged, which brought an excited smile to Freds face. He jumped from his place at the table holding an expectant hand out for her to take which she accepted a little hesitantly.

"Should we go find George? See if he's okay?"

"Nah, he'll be fine. Besides, this way I get you all to myself." Fred squeezed her hand a little tighter as he all but dragged his friend from the Hall.

A few hours had past and Fred were still relentlessly determined to make today one of the best days possible for y/n. Surprisingly he'd started off small with a just few well timed jokes and casual strolls around the Castle simply trying to keep her occupied on anything other than those toxic thoughts that kept her from enjoying the day.

As lunch approached he'd upped his game. Grabbing a few snacks from the kitchens and taking her down to her favourite place by the Lake where they spent the time talking together; sharing various stories while Fred told countless jokes to make her laugh and spoke of their newest inventions for the joke shop.

Y/n was sure she hadn't stopped smiling since the moment they'd left the Hall. Fred just had that effect on her but with every small guesture and tender smile thrown her way there was just no stopping the butterflies that erupt in her chest or the warmth that spread to her cheeks from his flirty comments and kind words.

By this point she'd nearly forgotten the whole reason he were so determined to make today so memorable.

But Georges absence and the light stinging in her hand was a nagging little reminder at the back of her mind which stopped her from falling wholly into the moment.

"Alright, Miss." Fred shot up from his place on the grass, dusting his hands on his jeans as he did so. "Onto grander things!" He held his hands out for her to take, pulling her giggling figure from the ground. "What could you possibly have planned now?" "Oh just a little mischief." He grinned as his tongue grazed his bottom lip before threading itself between his teeth, eyeing her closely. Y/ns eyes narrowed at his words untrusting of whatever plan his brain had suddenly cooked up. There were no time to question however as she were promptly being pulled to the Castle as the Sun fell below the horizon.

"You dragged me back to the Castle like a man possessed for dinner!?" Y/n questioned as they entered the Great Hall alongside countless of the other Hogwarts residents.

"Well yes and no. Yes; because you need to have a proper meal today aside from a couple sad mouthfuls of porridge and a dozen sweets. No; because for my next trick we will in fact be needing our beloved Georgie." "Do you think he's okay?" "One way to find out isn't there? OI! George!" Fred pushed through the dawdling individuals in the aisles between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, pulling y/n along behind him to where his Twin were currently seated for dinner.

"Hey Georgie" y/n began in a sad tone as she sat beside him. "Are you okay?" She stroked his arm reassuringly as she spoke. "Yeah I'm fine. Sorry I took off this morning I-" "ah-ah!" Fred piped from her otherside, "no morning talk. Look you're ruining all my good work!" He commented pointing to the concerned frown which were now upon y/ns features. "What?" "Dear Freddie here has been spending the day trying to get my mind off things." "Right right...Ginny mentioned something about Fred dragging you around the school all day." "Yes, and until now it'd been working so just...perk up. Which shouldn't be hard once I tell you my plan" Fred rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"Plan?" "Know that thing we've been dying to try but haven't had the occasion?" he stated vaguely which had concern growing in the pit of y/ns stomach. Concern which only worsened as she watched how Georges features shifted swiftly from one of slight disinterest to immediate excitement. "Really? You wanna do that tonight?" His smile was wicked and a little frightening in y/ns opinion as he questioned his brother who merely hummed in response. "Reckon I can name a few select members of a certain 'club' who would make excellent guinea pigs." Continued George in a whisper over top of y/n "You've read my mind." Fred took a sip from a drink y/n had just poured, for herself mind you.

Y/ns focus was shifting worriedly between the two brothers who sat on her either side sharing an unspoken understanding.

"Stop doing that you're freaking me out!" She snapped which caused the boys to laugh, George mumbling a simple "You're in for a treat" as he turned his attention back to his dinner with a sly grin.

Y/n looked back to Fred hoping for some kind of hint or reassurance but he just smiled, wrapping his arm round her waist and pulling her into his side as he began to eat.

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Y/ns voice rang throughout the empty corridor. "Only one way to find out" Fred wiggled his eyebrows at her.

The pair were currently hiding around the corner of the 7th floor main corridor. It were past curfew as the Twins plan fell into play.

"Explain to me again what exactly these things are?" Y/n asked as she fiddled with a small cylindrical canister. "Paint bombs." Fred answered excitedly. "Similar to Dungbombs just-" "with paint?" "Pretty much, yeah. You pull this little tab, then you have about 7 seconds before it goes off. This one in particular is my favourite so far." "And whys that?" "You'll see" Fred smiled brightly down at her before the sound of approaching footsteps put an end to their conversation.

George barrelled down the hallway, throwing himself into the pair very much out of breath but with a smile as wide as Fred's had been moments ago.

"All set?" "Yeah. They should be coming through any minute now." The three craned their necks around the walls edge, waiting for their unsuspecting victims. It didnt take long before the sound of several pairs of agitated feet came stomping through the corridor.

Filch followed by a handful of the Inquisitorial Squad were huddled together in shared annoyance by the antics of George which were leading them directly into their trap. Various curses and angry grumbles could only faintly be heard over the distance between them.

"Right" Fred whispered as the three ducked back behind the wall, he gave George and y/n a quick nod before tearing the small tab from it's place. "Yippe Ki Yay, Motherfucker." He spoke dramatically as he stepped out, throwing the Paint Bomb like a grenade towards the befuddled group of Slytherins and accompanying Caretaker.

Quickly shooting himself back behind the wall where all three waited with baited breaths and backs pressed flush to the cold stone wall.

"Not a day goes by that I don't regret showing you Die Hard." Y/n mumbled, a comment which brought a wide smile to Freds face as he looked down to her. A few more seconds past before a loud crack and angry shouts echoed through the Castle.

Y/n looked in amazement to see the Hall covered in multicoloured, sparkling, paint as well as orange and gold confetti. There was something beautiful about it she thought. All the vibrant pinks, blues and purples caught the eye like a giant canvas painting. Aside from the ugly squabbling creature, that had once been the Inquisitorial Squad, at the pieces centre of course.

She was in tears from laughing at the sight when Fred leant down to speak in her ear "whataya think?" "I think it's brilliant!" She smiled up at him, "that's the messiest one we've got." He nodded in the direction of the chaos currently unfolding before them.

The group were slipping over themselves and wiping hands down their faces in disgust over the thick liquid which coated them all, as well as the ceiling and walls.

"It was also the only one." George scowled though clearly very amused. "Worth it though wouldn't you say?" "Absolutely."

Freds eyes turned back to y/n, admiring her laughing figure beside him.

"We'll count that one a success heya, Freddie?" George nudged but his brothers trance was not so easily broken. "Definitely" he smiled not turning away from her.

"Shit!" Y/n exclaimed suddenly. "Yeah, I'd say it's time to go." George stated as he watched the very colourful and very angry group now charging after them.

George took off in a sprint but it weren't till y/n began running, taking a hold of Freds hand as she did so that he fully registered what was going on and started to run too.

Fred and Y/n had ended up in her common room after losing George. Luckily it were late enough that not many people were still hanging about so the two pretty much had the place to themselves. Spending a few more moments just being together and reliving the day by the fire, it weren't till the clock struck 12am that Fred admit he should be getting back to his dormitory. Not that he wanted to but y/n needed to sleep after her restless night prior, he hadn't meant to keep her up this late to begin with.

Pulling her from the couch he walked her to the bottom of her dorm rooms staircase where she stood a couple stairs from the bottom to match his height.

It'd slipped the pairs notice that they were still holding one anothers hand until their joined laughter faltered and the warmth in their palms caused realisation to strike. Fred dropped the hold clearing his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for today, Freddie." Y/n smiled warmly. "Pretty memorable, aye? Told you I'd get you smiling." He rocked confidently on the balls of his feet. Y/n shook her head slightly as she absent-mindedly stroked his arm. "Don't know what I'd do without you." "Probably nag George" he joked.

"As much as I love Georgie, it wouldn't be the same" Freds eyes studied her face the whole time she spoke. He could feel his heart begin to race inside his chest. If only she knew how much he wished he could hear her say she loved him.

"Goodnight, Freddie" y/n placed a light kiss to his cheek, grip tightening ever-so-slightly on his bicep before turning slowly to leave.

His heart was thundering now. Breaths rapid as his body urges him to speak. To tell her everything.

How he's in love with her and he's sure she feels the same way.

How she's the first thing on his mind of a morning and the last thing at night. How his whole family has been pushing him to just pluck up the courage and ask her out already. How nothing makes him happier than seeing her smile. How he never wanted to go to the Ball as 'just friends'. How he smells her perfume in Amortentia. That the sight of her at breakfast this morning, so down and distraught, broke his heart. How for the last few hours it's taken near all his strength to stop himself kissing her with as much love and passion as he can to show her how much she means to him.

But how do you convey all that to someone who has been your best friend for the past 5 years? No clue. But he has to try and he knows he'll never get this kind of opportunity again.

"Y/n, wait-" he grabs her arm, taking a step towards her he pulls her into his chest. Before he can process it his hand is cupping her cheek and he's kissing her with such intensity y/n can feel the air leave her lungs as she melts into him. Her arms snaking over his body. A hand running itself along his shoulder, fingers entangling themselves in the locks of hair at the base of his neck, whilst the other wraps tightly around his torso.

When they finally break apart Fred's on cloud nine. Nothing had ever felt so good or so right. But at the same time, he's panicking. God, he hopes she truly does feel the same way and he didn't just completely misread everything about their relationship. Their foreheads are pressed together as y/ns lips form a wide smile.

"If you wanted to give me a reason to smile today...you could have just started with that."

[aizawaskittenwhore]

  𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

words:3.7k

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck

rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter

a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3

all rights reserved ©️aizawaskittenwhore. do not copy, repost, or modify.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

September 13th, 2181

2:56pm

Musutafu, Japan

“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.

In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.

However, some needed more convincing than others.

“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.

“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”

“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.

“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.

“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.

“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.

“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.

“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.

“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.

“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”

A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.

“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?

June 2nd, 2182

In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.

Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.

“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.

“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.

“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.

“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”

Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.

“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”

You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought. 

“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising. 

“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke.  “Like what, Takami?” You inquire.

“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”

He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours. 

“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”

“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits. 

“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.

“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”

The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit. 

So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.

Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.

The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.

Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his. 

“Consider it done.”

Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids. 

“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”

“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout. 

“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter. “-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”

Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.

“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”

Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line. 

“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass. 

“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.

Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body. 

What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...

excavated, for lack of a better word.

“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.

“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.

“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand. 

“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them. 

“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.” 

You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body. 

Good riddance.

“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.

“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.

“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”

“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”

“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.

“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.

Home.

November 12th, 2174.

“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”

“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.

“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead. 

“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister. 

“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.

“Deal.”

And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.

“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.

“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.

“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.

Ah.

If only that were true, Keigo.

taglist! : @liliesoftherainmain @therealwalmartjesus

[leatherbookmarking]

fuck that ! im gonna talk about them deadboyz!! shame is for the WEAK

overall:

belong to a much less known subsidiary company of jinhit no jgs isn’t worth the joke entertainment. if they were in any other company they would be super rookies but jgs is keeping them in the basement and it’s not even his own basement

initially i think there were some high stakes in it for jgy...? something like ‘you produce the songs and make their chores and if you flop you’ll never be on stage again’ but?? i don’t know now tbh

would have been really popular (they are Good) but less known company, etc, and also some rumors around the time of their debut made it so they’re only knows because ‘they’re kinda good at dancing aren’t they’

general concept is uh... cool dudes, kinda fucky but not too much...? gotta think about the baby (a-yu)

THE MEMBERS: meng yao (leader, main dancer, vocalist), wen chao (oldest, main rapper), su she (main vocal, dancer), xue yang (rapper, dancer, unofficially: moodmaker, if by ‘mood’ you understand ‘horror at whatever has just come out of his hellish mouth), wen ning (dancer, vocalist, sometimes rapper), mo xuanyu (vocalist, the Baby™)

MENG YAO:

leader, single-handedly responsible for making these rowdy boys (wc&xy) stop wanting to kill each other

has probably auditioned for every single company there is. was in the nie company for a bit, but it was still a mess freshly after the previous owner, nmj’s father, has died, nmj has struggled (being a producer, not a businessman) so when it turned out they’d have to let some trainees go, the other trainees made it so meng yao was the one to leave. then he temporarily was at wrh’s company where he got kind-of-semi-famous as one of wen qing’s main back dancers (the one she’s interacted with the most) during her last performance. then the company went kaputt and jgs has snatched him off for himself, and then... put him... in the basement.... for two years... after which he gave him a chance, and voila

insanely hard-working. an all-rounder. mainly he excels at dancing, but his vocal and rap skills also Fuck. persona? impeccable. he’s learning to write and compose his own songs and he’s doing well, but he can’t even upload his stuff on soundcloud, because... you know why. has doubled as a manager in their early days. also, dimples.

the fans had tried to make a dad/mom dynamic with him and uh... wen chao...? since they were the oldest and pretty much the opposites, but quickly gave up and he’s now simply known as yao-ge due to his stern but loving persona. (yao-jie, sometimes)

DOES do the split. it was his rookie trick for a year after they debuted, but he simply is just like that. one show host asked him “is there definite proof that you have bones?“ and meng yao only shrugged humbly

WEN CHAO

oldest, has been a trainee for the longest time, hasn’t debuted because... well... he wasn’t good... and that was because he’s felt too safe in his dad’s company. WELL ABOUT THAT,

his older brother wen xu has debuted Long before him, but after a few years his group disbanded, he moved on to modeling and then stopped after a couple of years, too. (he got married.)

you know how i said their image is ‘cool, a bit fucky’? well, he’s 40% of that fuckiness. he’s been told again and again that idols aren’t supposed to date/have dating experience, but he still can’t get the hang of it

yes, he and jiaojiao were an item back in the wen days. she’s a trainee at some other company now but they still hook up sometimes

initially was intent on maintaining a cool, calm and collected image... then he met xue yang and threw that idea outta the window. paradoxically, they’re interesting together, not only as rappers but also as... high-energy, chaotic energy makers of the group...

this is a happy au, so: initially he’s thought everything is bullshit, these talentless fucks are dumb and he should already be a top idol. by the time of their debut, he agrees that meng yao is one crafty motherfucker. a year after their debut, if anything happened to any of his boys, yes even xue yang, he would kill everyone in the room, etc, etc BUT YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT.

SU SHE

unfortunately, was added before their first comeback (second release) and therefore controversial. fortunately, his vocal completes the group’s image and musical flavour

was a trainee in yinshen ent where he really admired their top idol, lan wangji, until... he got to know him (?) when they were sent to compete in a survival show and decided lan wangji ain’t shit and is, in fact, a stuck-up self-centered bitch. the survival show crashed (unrelatedly), but still some serious words were exchanged. during Some Company Problems, quite a lot of trainees have left, but he was the one who left with a Bang.

joined that one subsidiary of jin ent because of meng yao, who, just like in canon, recognized him, said he loved him in (song he’s performed in the survival show) and with this he cemented his position as su she’s new Boy Who Makes Him Go !!!!.

slowly replaced meng yao as The Man Who Does This Face at the other lads’ rowdy behaviour.

fans remember he was :/ at lan wangji, so his persona wouldn’t work anyway, but he does make quite a convincing kind dude-next-door.

stubborn side of the fandom’s next candidate for the mom member, because... he’s ridiculously prepared and reliable. who carries hydrogen peroxide in their daily use backpack? this boy !

it used to be rubbing alcohol but i had too many reasons to apply it internally, he once says mournfully, and this is how xue yang discovers he has a sense of humor, sort of

unfortunately, has the juiciest ass in the group. unfortunately, because

XUE YANG

responsible for: being inappropriate. the other 60% of fuckiness, really enjoys getting into wen chao’s personal space (since wen chao is That straight dude) and just... doing whatever to make su she Scandalized.

but he’s so cute we’ll forgive him. at least until the next time he does a surprise butt grab

very agile! dance line along with meng yao and wen ning. apparently he was a stunt guy...? apparently the lived in the streets...? apparently he went to the same dance school as meng yao...? no one knows his past. no one has seen his kid photos. did he go by another name...? insert the what are birds gif but make it who is xue yang.

adds sound effects to real life. also in his raps, sometimes

started hugging and initiating physical contact with people to assert dominance to be annoying, but ended up actually liking it, even though the one he does it comfortably with is meng yao. just like... back hugs? resting his chin over a-yao’s shoulder? it’s neat. sometimes a-yao pats his hand or taps his nose absent-mindedly and it’s super neat. if he notices you noticing it, though, he will BITE

most popular member, but everyone likes him for different reasons and has a different uhhh headcanon about potentially dating him. bad boy xue yang/cute bratty didi xue yang/sweet boyfriend xue yang, etc, etc

no one knows how, but apparently he knows the iconic duo from a small company, xiao xingchen and song lan...? or rather, song lan pretends not to know or notice him, meanwhile xiao xingchen is very cute when they’re interacting, and basically it prompts a lot of dating rumors, especially since they’ve been spotted having hotpot.

WEN NING

su she was the one to join last, but actually it’s wen ning who’s the least popular member. i’m just so quiet that people don’t notice me, haha, he says while being 180cm tall and having killer charisma when he dances

seriously, what’s up with that? it’s almost like he’s a different person, a possessed one to add to that. huh!

in contrast, his voice is very gentle and even cute, and he often sings quietly to himself. sometimes to other members (there’s a video of him singing what seems to be a lullaby to mxy), sometimes to little animals (there’s a video of him singing to a tiny frog he’s found during a walk). gentle boyfriend wen ning but it’s CANON

in contrast to the contrast, he doesn’t rap often, but when he does, it’s like... who’s that?? another member??? dualism king

when wc/xy cause problems on purpose, he doesn’t react/allows them to tease him/slap his ass/bump into him when they’re fighting. he seems like a calm, gentle guy so when they’re in a variety show and it’s Time For A Punishment, of course he gets to decide/wield the squeaky hammer, WHEREUPON ‘yang-ge, three weeks ago you ate my yoghurt even though i specifically asked you not to, so...’ (whacks xy’s ass into next tuesday)

nice, sculpted shoulders make for very good pillows

MO XUANYU

a Baby, but watch out: a horny one. fully on board with xue yang’s Inappropriate Ideas Of Entertainment. there’s a video of them doing some Rather Dirty dance moves while meng yao and su she make pained faces in the bg

fashion king. make-up king. none of his selfies are bare-faced, he always has some red eye shadow/blue eyelashes/yellow blush/black lipstick going on. sometimes even at the same time. paints his nails and toenails as well. somehow yao-gege doing his make-up makes him fall asleep one minute in. (cute)

his sincere smile is a 100% foolproof way to just... melt everyone’s hearts. in wen ning’s case: with a smile as well. meng yao and su she: an eyeroll (fond). xue yang and wen chao: ‘oh, fuck you’. but it DOES

most of the time though when he does sajiao it’s totally weird. (on purpose, on purpose)

tiny boy. skinny boy. once he turned to the side and vanished. even though most of the time in videos the other members sooner or later end up giving him food! (at some point wen chao says ‘it’s so that you’d shut up’, causing a-yu to start talking animatedly, spitting crumbs into his tea. serves him right)

has a potential to end up as a vocal god. currently however his favourite method of doing things with his voice is SCREAM

famously examines what things are by putting them in his mouth/licking them. he is a little creacher. he cannot change this

bites

[monellabella]

Where are the rats? AKA Pt. 2 of the hunger games x HP crossover series ft. Fredward Weaslely (OC x Fred W.)

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON PT. 1 I NEARLY CRIED READING EVERY COMMENT SO THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH MWAH <3

Warnings: Just some cursing and a mention of a black eye (this is all I can think of but pls let me know if I should add any!)

Taglist: (leave a comment or message me to be added!) @anchoeritic​ @pineapplesandpinas​ @mitsukui​ @beiahadid​

Link to Pt. 1: https://bisou-doux.tumblr.com/post/640770995870957568/the-starving-games-ft-freddie-weasel-aka-pt-1 

Those ten minutes felt both shockingly short and blissfully eternal; As time seemed to run of its own accord. Seeing my mother and sister alone was enough to make me misty-eyed; but when mom pulled a disgruntled-looking Tulip from her bag and handed him to me, I burst into tears. I collapsed onto the floor and just sat there. My mother and sister joined me. I curled into mom’s lap, allowing her to stroke my hair as I laid my head on her chest and gave in to the soothing, wavelike motion of her breathing. Maeve snuggled up close to us and hugged my waist from behind, leaning her head on my back. Tulip, that furry little menace, seeming to sense the heavy sadness that blanketed the room- plopped himself onto my lap and curled into a ball against stomach. I sniffled and gave a light chuckle. I started stroking his plush fur absentmindedly; I eventually let my eyelids, heavy with grief and exhaustion, to slowly droop closed.

None of us felt much like talking. We just sat like that for a while- letting the tears roll silently down our cheeks. I could’ve easily fallen asleep, but my mother soon gently sat me up, and I reluctantly shifted from my place in her lap. Maeve begrudgingly followed suit, and we both sat criss-cross on the floor across from her. Maeve shuffled closer and leaned her head on my shoulder. Tulip was kind enough to stay in his place- in fact, seemingly enjoying it- and I felt the vibrations of his contented purrs echo through my chest as I pet him. At last, my mother broke the silence, “Seph,” she sighed, “I- um-” she seemed to be at a loss for words. “Mom, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” I said quietly. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh, Seph,” she leaned forward and hugged me tightly. I tried to keep my composure, but my voice still shook when I spoke, “It’s gonna be okay, mom. You have so much love around here- none of the aunties or uncles would ever let you and Maeve fend for yourselves- you know that.” I rubbed her back comfortingly. She sniffled, “I know but-” she sighed and pulled away slowly, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Seph, promise me you’ll try.”

“I promise- no, I swear- whatever happens, I am leaving that arena alive.” I said resolvedly. My mother looked at me, her eyes, like mine and Maeve’s, were red and puffy. She cupped my face with her hands and gave me a small smile. Planting a tender kiss on my forehead, I reached up to place my own hands over hers. Maeve, who was still at my side, spoke up, “You didn’t have to do it, y’know. I could’ve handled it.” She sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “Not to mention Tulip- He’s gonna miss you! You’re his favorite out of the three of us!” she added. I looked over at her and scoffed, “First of all, kiddo, you haven’t even hit your growth spurt yet- so I doubt you’d be handling anything other than that fancy Capitol silverware.” Mom laughed, and Maeve looked down and smiled, “Also- what on earth makes you think I’m Tulip’s favorite? The little jerk was SLEEPING ON MY FACE THIS MORNING.” At that, we all burst out laughing, the sound of it bouncing off the walls and making everything seem a little bit lighter. When our laughter died down, a comfortable silence took its place. We sat there for a moment soaking it in. Eventually, Maeve turned to me and broke the quiet, “Hey, Seph?”

“Mhmm?”

“Give ‘em hell, will you?” she said gravely. Instead of reprimanding her for her choice of words, mom nodded, and looked at me earnestly, “Give those bastards in the Capitol a run for their money.” 

“But how? They own me now- I’m their property. They could do whatever the hell they want.” I said.

“Bullshit. You’re still a person. Not a hunk of meat.” she gently placed her hand on the side of my face, “You have a brain- use it.” She glanced around the room and lowered her voice to a near whisper, “The thing the Capitol fears more than anything is the districts realizing exactly that. They’re afraid we’ll rise up against them when we realize we’re not just brainless pawns. They keep us in check with the games- reminding us that they have all the power- that they can threaten us all they want but we’ll never have the guts to do anything about it. But that’s all they are- threats. They’re threatening us because they’re afraid of us.”

“But what am I supposed to do about it? I can’t exactly organize a rebellion.” I replied, matching her lowered tone. 

“I’m not asking you to. What I’m asking you to do is remember that you are not just a sheep off to the slaughter. Make them like you- show them that you’re not just some kind of dirty, uneducated savage. Appeal to their vanity; trust me, they have a lot of it. Whatever happens, make all those pricks at the Capitol wonder if maybe they shouldn’t have sent you into the games- that you might just be the one tribute they seriously regret sending into the arena. Show them you have a mind and soul. Give those Capitol freaks something to feel for. But most importantly,” she leaned in and spoke in a barely audible whisper, “give that motherfucker Snow something to be afraid of.” She leaned back and looked me dead in the eye. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded wordlessly. 

“And for god's sake please don’t let them put you in some kind of hideous outfit, or I swear, I’ll stop rooting for you then and there.” Maeve joked. I looked over at her and smiled. I ruffled her hair and gave her a big smooch on her forehead. “I won’t. Pinky promise.” we hooked our pinkies together and gave each other a curt nod. “Besides,” I said, “if the outfit’s ugly enough, I’d rather go naked. At least that would earn me some points with some of the male sponsors, don’t you think?” Maeve giggled in response. I leaned over and hugged them both, “I love you. I love you both so much. I’m coming back, you hear me? I’m coming back.” We heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. I gave Tulip a quick kiss on top of his head, and whispered “I love you, too, Tulip. You’re the best cat anyone could’ve asked for.” I handed him over to Maeve, and she quickly but gently placed him back into the bag as we all stood up. Mom hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I didn’t care. “I love you. I love you so much, sweetie.” she whispered. “I love you, too, mom.” My eyes started to water. She planted a kiss on my forehead and both my cheeks, and I stepped over to Maeve as I heard the footsteps getting closer, “I love you, kiddo. Don’t ever forget it.” “I love you, too.” she replied breathlessly, tears now pooling in her eyes. Maeve held the bag between the three of us, Tulip poking his head out from the top of it, and I embraced them both as tightly as I could manage. A moment later, the door swung open and five peacekeepers entered the room. “Time’s up.” one of them said. We all turned to face him, but I maintained a tight grip on Mom and Maeve’s arms. “You two,” he said pointing to my mother and sister, “Out.” Two of the peacekeepers walked over and grabbed hold of their arms. They pulled them away with such force, I had no choice but to let go. I stared after them, my feet glued to the floor, as the two peacekeepers pulled them out of he room. My breathing quickened and I felt myself starting to panic. I rushed towards the door to see if I could still catch a glimpse of them, but I was held back by two more peacekeepers grabbing my arms. “Wait, please, just a few more minutes.” I said desperately. I saw the bright purple edge of Maeve’s dress disappear as they rounded the corner into the main hall. “Please. Please, I’m not ready to go.” I choked. I heard their steps echo across the marble as they were made to walk rapidly towards the exit. “MOM!” I cried, pushing harder against their iron grip. “MAEVE!” I shouted, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. I grunted, practically throwing myself out of their clutches. “LET GO OF ME!” I screamed, “LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING BAST-” but the rest of my sentence was muffled as one of the peacekeepers clapped his hand over my mouth. I thought about biting his palm, but it was unfortunately protected by a thick leather glove. But him and his stupid gloves couldn’t stop me- I screamed anyway- yelling out obscenity after obscenity as I continuously tried to free myself from them. I was losing my voice, and I strained against them so hard, I thought my shoulders might pop out of their sockets. When I heard the sound of the heavy brass doors being opened and closed, I went limp. I stopped fighting. I slumped forward as my breathing slowed, and my anguished cries turned into defeated sobs. The peacekeeper removed his hand from my mouth, and the one still standing behind us, who’d been observing my little meltdown, took a few steps closer, “You done?” he asked. I huffed in annoyance, “Yes,” I croaked, my voice practically non-existent. “Good. Now shift it or we’ll drag you to the train by your ankles.” I gulped, straightening up just in time to once again be shoved to my next location. 

Instead of leaving through the brass doors, we walked straight past them and down a second hallway opposite the one we just came from. This one was slightly larger, and the dark wood-panelled floor had square tiles of dark green marble lining either side of it. At the end of it was a set of bolted steel doors flanked by two more peacekeepers. As we approached them, they opened the doors to reveal what appeared to be a large, dimly lit tunnel. It looked like the underground station we took that morning- only much, much nicer. The concrete platform we stood on was unnaturally clean- neither a single piece of trash, nor suspiciously blood-like spill. The tall, arched ceiling was entirely covered in dark blue and green tiles that still gleamed despite the dim lighting. I didn’t think it was possible for an underground station in a city to be entirely vermin-free; yet here I was, and there was not a rat or cockroach in sight. But the most peculiar thing was how wide the single set of tracks was- they were at least 12 or 13 feet wide. For fuck’s sake, how big could this train possibly be?, I thought to myself. A few moments later, two peacekeepers emerged from steel doors, grasping the arms of a tall, redheaded boy. They walked forward and stood a few feet to my right. I looked over, and tried to hide my smile: despite their armored uniforms, the two peacekeepers looked absolutely ridiculous standing on either side of their prisoner- he was at least a good four to six inches taller than both of them and made the two of them look like little children holding onto their mommy. Despite the fact that he looked like he could crush them with his pinky, Fred was sporting a nasty black eye that hadn’t been there less than an hour ago. Observing his injury, I could’ve sworn I saw him glance at me. I tried to catch his eye- well, the good one- but he just clenched his jaw and resolved to stare blankly at the ground below him. I exhaled through my nose in frustration and turned my gaze back to the empty tracks in front of me. We stood there in torturous silence for a few minutes, until suddenly I heard a faint rumbling coming from the right of the tunnel. As it got closer, some of the lights flickered and everything looked to be shaking. A few moments later, a sleek, black bullet train pulled into the station and whizzed past us until it slowly came to a squeaking halt. Every window was tinted so that you couldn't see inside. The door in front of us slid open with a small hiss, and Ms. Magenta from the ceremony stepped out. She gasped happily, “Oh, my lovely tributes, I am so-” she paused upon seeing Fred’s eye, “My goodness what have they done to you?” No one said anything. She turned to the peacekeepers holding Fred, “Did you do this?” she said sternly. 

“He wasn’t cooperating.” one of them replied flatly.

“That’s not an excuse to abuse him! Don’t you understand that he is going to be on television in front of the entire country? He cannot have that on his face, it’s hideous! It will ruin his entire outfit!” she said shrilly. 

“Not my problem.” he responded. Ms. Magenta scoffed angrily then took Fred by the wrist and whisked him away from the peacekeepers, “Come, my dear, we’re going to get this all fixed up. You will get the best treatment the Capitol has to offer!” She turned on her heel and walked over to me. “You, too, my dear- come, come!” she chirped. The peacekeepers maintained their grip on my arms and started walking towards the train, but she turned and stopped them, “Oh, please, let go of her,” she huffed before stepping back and yanking me over by the wrist, “She’s a girl, not an animal.” she said disapprovingly. She took mine and Fred’s hands into her own and I stumbled a bit when she jolted us forward. Walking briskly to the train, I smirked as I put my free hand behind my back, and held up my middle finger. 

I held on to the tiny railing on the side of the five or so steep steps leading into the train, and the door hissed shut behind us. Once at the top, I turned to face a room that made the marble halls of the Justice building look like a pile of bricks. She let go of our hands but I hardly noticed as I stood gaping at the space in front of me. I now clearly understood why those tracks were so wide- it must’ve been double- maybe triple- the size of the apartment I lived in. There was an elaborate crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and gold sconces in the spaces between the windows. The floor was made of dark cherry-wood panels that looked like they’d never seen a single step. On either side of the train carriage, there was a short little couch, a chaise I think it’s called, with gold legs and light-blue silk cushions. In the middle of the car, below the chandelier, there were two larger couches facing each other that matched the ones on the side. Between them was an elegant glass table where a white, porcelain tea set, and colorful little cakes on a silver-tier platter sat on its surface. The carriage itself carried a faint scent of old wood and lavender. I looked over to see Fred standing there with the same, awed expression. “Is- is this all for us?” he asked quietly. 

“Of course it is! You are both very important guests of the Capitol- it would be rude of us not to show you the best of our hospitality.” Ms. Magenta replied brightly. “Now, if you would follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms and then we will meet in the dining car for supper, alright?”

“Wait there’s more?” I asked, my voice still a bit hoarse. 

“Well, obviously.” she replied chuckling, “The trip from here to the Capitol takes at least a week- you can’t expect to stay in one room the whole time, can you?” she laughed lightly then made her way to the door at the other end of the car. It slid open to another train car- this one as equally opulent as the last, though instead of couches, in the center of the room were two pairs of plush silk chairs. A jade and white marble chess board sat between two of them, the pieces all lined up perfectly. Between the others was a small, square wooden table with a pack of playing cards sitting on top. “I’ve never played chess before.” Fred remarked.

“I have; it’s fun.” I replied looking up at him. 

“Really? D’you think you could teach me?” he said, turning to face me.

“Sure.”

“Is it a hard game?”

“No, not once you get the rules.”

“Okay, good,” he said nodding to himself, “You’ll teach me then?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” 

“Cool.” He looked down at the ground and a small smile crossed his face.

We followed Ms. Magenta through the next few train cars until at last she stopped and turned to us, “So, behind me are your rooms. Yours Fredrick-”

“It’s just Fred, actually.” 

“Very well; Fred, your room is on the left, and Persephone, yours is on the right.” she paused then looked over to me, “You do like to be called Persephone, don’t you?”

“Well, most people call me Seph, but you can-”

“Persephone it is! Don’t worry, it is a very pretty name, everyone at the Capitol is going to love it.” she said excitedly, “Now off to your rooms! I’ll see you both at six o’clock in the dining car.”

“Wait a second,” I said, “You never told us your name.”

“I didn’t? Huh- I was sure I mentioned it...well anyways, it’s Emerald. Emerald Tallis. But of course, you can both call me Emmie. Now both of you- rooms!” she said walking away briskly. 

“Wait, but how will we know-” Fred started to ask. 

“There are clocks on your walls!” Emmie responded as she walked through to the next carriage. “Ta-ta!” she said airily, waving her hand above her head as the door hissed shut behind her. Fred and I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I cleared my throat, “Um, I’ll see you at six.” I said quickly. 

Without looking up, he nodded, “See you at six.” And with that, we both walked hastily into our respective rooms and shut the door. The room was surprisingly plain. It contained a large bed with a dark grey comforter partially inlaid in light wood-panelled walls, a small desk in the corner to my right, and some shelves to my left. The whole room was basked in a warm glow emitting from the strips of light that trailed across the top of the wood panels on the walls. Admittedly, it was a nice change from the extravagance of the rest of the train. I stepped over to the bed and fell backwards on to the plush comforter. I kicked off my shoes then sat up once more, leaning back on hands. My stomach rumbled.

Shit, I thought, I should’ve snagged one of those cakes. 

I massaged my still sore throat.

And maybe some tea, too.

a/n: If you’ve made it this far, welcome I have a task for you: can you give Seph this mug so she can drink her tea

I don’t think she knows what a dinosaur is but she’s gonna like the mug. 

[lunar-jimin]

i don’t want to fall in love, if he won’t be here next year

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, wee bit of angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: feelings, soft kookie, swearing, kissing

Summary: The universe was evil to make you spend Christmas Eve alone with your best friend who you definitely are not in love with. 

A/N: This is for the lovely @namluve​ through @btswriterscollective​ Secret Santa project! Happy holidays, love! Sorry that it’s at the later end of the posting period, but I hope you enjoy!

“For fuck’s sake Jungkook, can’t you unzip your own damn pants?”

“It’s not my fault they got stuck,” he whined, back arched awkwardly as he attempted to see what he was doing, “and I can’t see it because the zipper is in the fucking back.”

You sigh. The mall had started using Santa suits with the zipper in the back after some curious kid showed off Jimin’s candy cane boxers to the entirety of the shopping center last year. Now, your unfortunate best friend had managed to get the damn thing stuck.

“Move,” you frown, taking the zipper from him. You wiggled it back and forth a couple times before it finally moved down the rest of its track.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I was gonna be stuck in these forever.”

“God, you’re so overdramatic. It’s a wonder you make it through the day without me babying you every step of the way.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. You were the one who almost burnt down the kitchen making ramen.”

You roll your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You continue to strip yourself of your itchy elf dress and the god awful red and white striped tights to match. It takes everything in you not to glance over at Jungkook who is now inevitably just in a muscle tee and tight black underwear.

So what, your best friend was one of the prettier humans to ever grace this planet? You were a grown woman. You had self-control. And you definitely didn’t want him to bend you over this sticky locker room bench and fuck you into the next century. You don’t even need to think about the fact that you were maybe, kinda, sorta, totally, irreversibly in love with him.

“So it’s just you and me tonight, huh?” his voice is less agitated, now that he’s free of his confines.

You snuck a glance and were happy to find him in matching grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. Still deadly hot, but your panties would stay dry. For now.

“Yeah, I suppose. I’m gonna miss our holiday ragers.”

Normally, you would spend Christmas Eve getting black-out drunk with your friends. This year, however, most of them were going home to their families or had started families of their own. Which left you and Jungkook alone with each other for the first time in years.

You were nervous. And you hated that. There was no reason why you should feel like throwing up at the prospect of spending an evening with your best friend. You had done this a million times, why was this time so special? Maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you spent more than two hours alone with him.

Ever since Jungkook started dating some girl from his animation class last year, the time the two of you spent together had decreased drastically. You couldn’t blame him, everyone around you was finding themselves in long-term relationships, excited to build a future now that college was almost over. He was just doing the same, and for a while, you thought she would be the one (a thought that left you crying in your bed for a week). You’re embarrassed to admit how pleased you were when Jungkook arrived at your doorstep four months ago, piss drunk at three in the morning to tell you she had cheated on him.

That was the last time you had spent a decent chunk of time and he was either crying or asleep for most of it. But now, here you were, following Jungkook to his beat-up Toyota Corolla, with the intent to spend the night with him. And while he hadn’t shown so much as the slightest hint that he may share your feelings, you couldn’t help but hope.

Three hours later, your nerves have been calmed by the half-a-bottle of wine you’ve downed. Your face is warm, but the spot on your thigh where his hand rests is warmer. Jungkook had convinced you to watch the Holidate despite your better judgment, and now you wanted to bleach your eyes.

“I can’t believe we watched that,” you groan into his shoulder, “I should be able to sue the production company for the two hours of my life that just got wasted.”

Jungkook lets out a buzzed giggle at your complaint, body shaking lightly next to yours.

“It was terrible,” he agreed, “but Seokjin said it was good.”

“Jin has a terrible taste in movies, and you know it.”

“True.”

He turned to look at you, little sparkles in his doe eyes as he gave you the sweetest smile. Your stomach flips.

“So, what do you want to watch?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Do we really have to?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love Die Hard just as much as me,” you slap him playfully, “besides, you know you’re going to make me watch Love Actually after this.”

“Whatever.”

“You know it’s true, Kookie. We all know you’re a hoe for Bruce.”

“Am not.”

“If you want to live in denial, who am I to stop you.”

Despite his vehement denial of loving the movie, Jungkook quoted nearly the whole damn thing. If it weren’t for his adorable ‘yippee-ki-yay motherfucker’, you probably would’ve smacked him.

“You didn’t have to quote the entire thing,” you grumble.

“Sorry.”

He looks up at you with his doe eyes and you melt.

“It’s fine, just don’t do it with Love Actually. It’s confusing enough as it is without you talking over it.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Just admit to me you actually love the movie though.”

“I really don’t see the appeal.”

“How can you not see the appeal? It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Yeah, but it’s confusing with all the different stories and I don’t understand British people at all. Also, as a single person, it’s incredibly painful.”

“How is it painful?”

“Because I want someone to fall in love with and cuddle me throughout the holidays.”

“You have me, you know?”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Kookie.”

“What do you mean?”

He’s grinning cheekily, completely aware of how uncomfortable his question makes you. You may be in love with him, but that does not stop you from thinking he’s a little shit sometimes.

“I want, you know, a partner, someone who’ll take me on dates, and kiss me, and do other things.”

“What other things?”

“Jeon Jungkook, you know what I’m talking about.”

Despite being best friends with Jungkook since the pair of you were in pull-ups, you had never felt comfortable talking about sex with him, even before you realized your feelings. You just hadn’t had a lot of experience, limited to a few boyfriends, and the subject wasn’t one you were comfortable with. Luckily, it was a topic Jungkook hadn’t brought up. Until now.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you just want a holiday fuck buddy.”

You smack his bicep, but don’t respond. Neither does he, simply turning to the screen before him and pressing play.

You’ll never admit it to Jungkook, but you do quite enjoy the movie. Sure it was a little painful to watch a ten-year-old have a more successful love life than yourself, but the storytelling was good. By the time the credits were rolling, you were only a little embarrassed to admit there were a few tears in your eyes.

When you looked over at Jungkook, you were surprised to find a downcast face.

“Is everything alright, Kookie?”

He looks back at you and you were surprised to find tears running down his cheek.

“Oh gosh, Kook, what happened?”

He remains silent, only taking your hand in his, thumb gently rubbing over your skin. His eyes stare down at where your palms meet, and despite your best friend’s apparent distress, you can’t help but notice the warm tingles radiating from his touch. With your free hand, you reach up to brush the tears from his cheek, a pout forming on your lips.

“It’s just,” he sighs, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes, “it’s just, I want it to, you know.”

You tilt your head to the side confused.

“What are you talking about Kook?”

“What you were saying earlier, about the cuddling and dates and shit. I want it too.”

“Oh, Kookie.”

You pull him into, clasping his neck as he buries his nose in your shoulders. You want so badly to tell him that he can have it. He can have all of it and more. With you. But you know now is not the time for confessions.

He pulls his head back to look at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“What is it Kookie?”

He looks down at this lap and then back up at you.

“I don’t want it with just anyone.”

“Well of course not, you’d want it with someone who can love and cherish you just as much as you love and cherish them.”

A dull ache in your heart was beginning to grow. He was so close to being yours, lips only inches away. But yet it seemed a mile still remained between the two of you.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You are once again sent hurling back into confusion.

“Well then what do you mean?”

“I want,” he falters, breathing unsteady like a fish out of water. He grabs your hands again, holding them tightly as if he was afraid you’d slip away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind only just beginning to grasp onto what was happening. Part of you refused to believe, refused to hope, less you were wrong.

“I want you.”

His voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear, but the words were there. You felt your body tense up, shocks running up and down your spine, sirens wailing in your head. You had hoped for this moment for months, no, years, and here you were, and you were totally unsure what to do with yourself.

When you don’t respond, he pulls away and turns to face the TV.

“I’m sorry,” you see him wince in an attempt to stop the tears that are forming in his eyes, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget that I ever opened my mouth.”

“Kookie I…”

He turns to look at you and you can’t help yourself. His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about during lonely nights. He responds immediately to your kiss, mouth forming against yours as his hands come to cup your jaw softly. Soft glowing warmth radiates throughout you and you are no longer sure whether the tears you feel on your cheeks are his or yours.

You pull away and look into his eyes and at once you recognize the twinkle dancing in them.

Love. Adoration.

He didn’t need to say the words. They were already there. Unspoken. Filling the small space between his body and yours. Radiating throughout the room.

He grabs your waist and swings your body over his so that he is slotted between his thighs. Your hair falls down around you as he stares up at you, his eyes telling you everything you’d ever need to know.

“Will you be mine?”

You nod before leaning down and pecking his lips. You want more than anything in this world to be his.

“I love you, Kookie.”

His eyes go wide, body stiff beneath yours. He slowly lifts a hand up to brush the hair out of your face.

“I love you too.”

A year later, you walk back into the living room with two glasses of wine in your hands to find him down on one knee.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Eleven (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.2k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You run your fingers over the white cotton sheet, trying to ignore the fact that you’re currently inside of the training center. You’d be able to recognize this place with your eyes closed. It’s made out of concrete with all the newest technologies. The people that are walking around here--especially the avoxes--have the same clothes and designs as the people inside of the training center.

Of course, the avoxes change clothes, but the things they wear are still outstanding and degrading to differentiate them from everyone else. They still look as best as they possibly can while also looking like a servant. That doesn’t mean that they can’t re-wear clothes though, which is exactly what’s happened.

The avox that stands in the corner of your room wears the same black and white plaid outfit that they wore during the night of the interviews. It’s a terrifying outfit, really. You absolutely hate it, which is another reason why you’re avoiding eye contact. You’d ask them to turn around if it weren’t for the fact that she has to keep an eye on you.

The doors to your “hospital room” are glass, you can see right through them. Which also means that you’re able to watch the doctors that come in and out of rooms. Some push carts, others don’t. It doesn’t really matter, all that does is that there’s brief moments where someone isn’t in the hallway.

They all look so rushed, as if they’re working on some sort of deadline. How fast they’ll move…

It’s almost as if there’s something going on out there. Or they don’t want you catching on to what’s happening.

“Huh.” you push yourself up from the bed, impatient at the lack of attention that you’re getting, compared to whatever is going on out there.

As soon as you get too close to the glass, the avox jerks forward and grabs a hold of your arm. It’s not a tight grasp, she just pulls you back a little, and then lets go. Hell, from what you can see, she’s fearful. Like you’ll blow up on her or something.

“Is someone coming, then? Soon?” you ask, and she nods.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you take a seat on the bed again. This time, you find something to occupy yourself. Firstly, there’s no cut on the back of your head anymore, it feels like. No bump, no dip, it might be completely healed. It really just means that you’ve been here for a couple of days.

As for everything else that has happened to you--it’s gone. No more scabs from the man-eating spiders. Your skin is smooth, but that doesn’t excuse every single little scar that it’s left behind. 

Your heart twists, you hold your arms out in front of you, seeing the fresh scars. Next are your legs, which are even fresher. They’ve still got that bright color to them, not yet blending into your skin tone. And it’s probably because you didn’t pay as much attention to your legs as you did your upper body.

Which was because your upper body was being televised. For the rest of that day, you were only in a sports bra. There really wasn’t a point in your eyes to just strip down the bottom half of the suit to apply ointment that wouldn’t even stay put. No one would be seeing it anyway.

The scars are fixable, you think. It’ll cost money, but you can get clear skin again--’polished’ as they say. It would have to come before the rest of the tattoos, though… and the old tattoos would also have to be fixed in that case. A lot of money, and you’re not too fond of fixing those tattoos. They’re memories, keepsakes.

You could always just get the rest of your body fixed, and leave your arms alone to avoid all the fixing stuff. It’s your best bet.

You look to your left wrist to see the soulmate words. You rub your thumb over them for a moment, and then scowl.

They left you behind. They left you with Johanna and Peeta, which was the worst thing that they could have done.

They didn’t even wait. Or even try with you standing there--it’s not like they couldn’t have seen you! You were standing right fucking there beneath their noses. And with how everything had gone down, you’re sure they could have afforded one more drop. There was more than enough time.

The glass doors slide open, making you look up.

You can’t help the amount of rage that shoots through your veins instantly.

“And so we meet again,” the words are bitter out of your mouth, you press your lips together in a thin line.

President Snow.

He motions the avox out of the room, and she listens without hesitance. With that, Snow sits in the chair--that you hadn’t even noticed was there--and crosses his legs.

“Yes we do.” he says.

You clench and unclench your teeth while you stare at him, trying not to have an attitude, since this man can kill you with the snap of his fingers and not even feel remorse for it. However, it all goes out the window because he’s sitting right in front of you with a smug look.

This motherfucker has ruined your life over and over and over.

Before your first games, you had it good. You had a big, loving family. You had two sisters and three brothers, and a pair of parents that would do anything to protect you all. Your grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and cousins were all alive. You had big gatherings during the summers, and cried when they had to go home.

And then you volunteered for the games, as you were instructed to do. You won your games, and at the end of your so-very-rich victory tour, he presents you with the worst fucking offer you’ve ever heard. Sell yourself for more money. Money, jewels, riches, clothes, love--adoration. 

Except, it wasn’t an offer, he was telling you. But what he wasn’t telling you, was that he was picking off those cousins, those aunts, uncles and grandparents. Next were those siblings of yours, and when you said no for the final time, your parents. You came home to a fucking massacre in your childhood home.

Everyone looked like they were frozen in place. They were shot, beaten, bruised and bloody, but they were right where they had been when it had happened. Your father was still in his armchair, your mother face-down in dirty sink water, your siblings playing in their rooms, reading books, sleeping. 

It was all the same for the rest of your family too.

And when the first fucking check with your victory money came through, you used it all to put them in the ground. You basically had your own fucking cemetary. 

The worst part is that you agreed after all that. He had killed everyone, and yet you still went through with it, as if you had anything else to lose. Your family was the only thing that you had left. It wouldn’t be the same if he killed friends, because it’s not you who would be grieving anymore, it would be their family.

While you were touring the Capitol on President Snow’s order, you got the tattoos done. You had the flowers done first for your family, every name had a flower that reminded you of them, and at your wrist would be the soulmate tattoo. You had your left arm done first so that the Capitol people would think that you were being sweet.

Then you had the graveyard done. And along came the graveyard, came the nastiest fucking attitude any of them had seen. It only took a week before Snow basically packaged you up and sent you back to District Two. He has to admit that it was smart of you to do that. And for fucksake, you’d do it again.

The attitude is a defense mechanism to keep the people who are too weak-hearted and manipulative-looking away. Only the ones who don’t care, stick through it. And they tend to be the more understanding type on top of that.

The last time that you saw President Snow--other than on tv or in person as the tribute parade--was when he tried to convince you to allow Tanith to be sold around the same way you were.

You felt so fucking smart then, for picking her out specifically. You basically told Snow ‘good luck’ with trying to find anyone she cared about to kill off. She’s a fucking orphan, and back then she didn’t really like you very much. So, he couldn’t get to her by attacking you.

With Zavian, he just wasn’t desirable.

“Stop staring and get to it already.” you snap, lowering your chin a bit as you bite your cheek.

Snow laughs, “Never was one for small talk.” he pauses for a moment, his face becoming more serious, “What do you know about Katniss Everdeen and her plan?”

Well, this can be a very easy answer, or a very hard one. 

Technically, you don’t know anything. You don’t know any part of the plan that they had going on, except for the fact that they had to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta the entire time. Just to make sure that they wouldn’t get hurt, killed or ran off. The only thing you had the slightest clue on, was the fucking time on when you guys would get out. And even then, it seemed like that was unplanned.

But at the same time, you know a lot more than you’re supposed to, thanks to that talk with Finnick before the interviews. His question of whether or not you were a loyalist was an immediate click. You knew in that exact moment that he was planning something with the others.

You look over Snow’s face, he’s studying you, waiting patiently. It’s only been a couple of seconds. 

You can’t play dumb, you can’t say anything stupid or he will know and be on your ass almost as quickly as you knew of the plan.

“You want the truth?” you ask him, he motions for you to get started, “I didn’t know anything, I wasn’t told a single thing--I put the pieces together myself, and it wasn’t very easy to do. Which means, I could be completely wrong.”

“Tell me what you think you know, then.” 

“I thought that Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, and Johanna were in an alliance, and that they were all getting along.” you lean forward, “I was wrong. Katniss wanted to kill Finnick in the cornucopia until he showed her some dumb bracelet that belonged to Haymitch.

“I only stuck around them inside of the arena cause Finnick and I are soulmates.” you hold up your wrist for Snow to see, “I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing it otherwise.”

Snow squints at you, ignoring your arm, “What else?”

“Finnick and I had a conversation thirty minutes prior to the interviews.” you lift your chin a little now, trying to recall the entire conversation, “The basis was an alliance between him and I, at least. I chose to ask because of the scores that they had all gotten, thinking that it would be better to be on their good side. I didn’t want to be hunted.”

Snow watches you hesitate, and you know that there’s no way you can avoid this now.

The thing is, you’re trying to not get anyone in trouble, while also saving your own ass, and it’s hard to do. Because you don’t owe any of them a single thing, but there’s something in your chest telling you to do it anyway. 

You feel… anxious. And it’s your own emotion.

Your voice is quieter, “Finnick had asked me a peculiar question just before the conversation was over, and I still don’t know what it means.” Snow won’t be able to tell if you’re being truthful or not, “He asked me if I was a loyalist.”

Snow hums, rubbing his white beard, “That’s not it.”

You shake your head, “That’s it. Finnick knew that I had wanted to be in their alliance to be able to kill him and the others. He said that he wouldn’t let me in because of that, and then he asked me if I was a loyalist. I told him I didn’t know what he’s getting at.” you draw your eyebrows together, “That’s when Haymitch came around the corner, must’ve heard us talking or something. He said that the interviews had started, and the conversation ended after that.”

“Which hallway?”

“The uh--first hallway to the left if you’re standing in the main corridor. In the direction of leaving the backstage area.” 

Snow nods now, standing to leave.

“When do I get to go home?” you ask, sliding off the bed to get to your feet too. He’s not going to leave the room until he gives you an answer.

“Soon. I want to show you something first.” Snow says, “Get dressed.”

He takes a step out, leaving around the corner. The avox comes in with some clothes, nicely folded in her arms. The doors don’t offer much coverage, but it’s not really anything they haven’t seen before.

You strip, pulling on the new clothing carefully, afraid of hurting your newly healed skin. It’s a pair of black skinny jeans, and a pink shirt with a breast pocket. The avox then holds out a pair of black tennis shoes for you to slip on after that. And when you’re done, she leads the way out of the room.

You follow her down the hall, passing by everyone who’s moving so quickly. When you get a glance through the windows into the courtyard, you can see that you’re on the base floor, and the building towers over you.

The hallways wind confusingly, but the avox manages. She has this place memorized as if there’s a map in her mind. For a while, you’re confident and unaware of your surroundings, until you pass through a hallway with cages. Only then do you get apprehensive.

Snow is in the next room, which is a corridor of white. The avox backs off, standing in the corner, and you take it upon yourself to approach Snow by yourself. He’s in front of a particular door, staring through the window in the door.

“Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair and Beetee Latier have been taken to District Thirteen, did you know that?” Snow asks, he looks at you briefly, before back through the door.

There’s a sick feeling in your stomach.

“No, I didn’t.” You don’t want to see what’s through that window.

“But you knew that they were taken out of the arena.”

Just thinking about that night gives you a goddamn headache, especially with all that happened afterwards.

After the hovercraft had left, you stared for what felt like forever. Feeling dejected and betrayed, especially with all the time that had been left over. No one came for you, so it was up to you to decide what would happen next.

When you had finally gotten over your feelings, you went ahead and found Johanna, who was right next to a panicked Peeta. Screaming in her face about how all of that was her fault. Johanna took it like a champ, with her mouth sealed shut and everything. But the second that you were there, Peeta turned on you like a rabid dog.

You tried to take a page from Johanna’s book as you calmly explained to him that Katniss, Finnick and Beetee were taken by a hovercraft. 

Peeta didn’t like that, and with him getting in your face, an anger was rising from your stomach to your throat. Like simmering grease, only you’re not supposed to let grease simmer. Because it gets dangerous, begins to pop and burn the skin, and that was exactly what had happened.

You tried to get Peeta to back off, because you didn’t want to make a huge mistake with Johanna standing two feet away. But he kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing so you swung. He fell, and when he tried to get back up, still running his fucking mouth, you lost it.

You hadn’t felt that angry since you found out that your entire family was dead. You did everything you could possibly imagine to harm Peeta in that moment. The first kick to his ribs was the weakest, but the second definitely left some sort of damage. Then Johanna tried to come over, and you knocked her out without a second swing.

Peeta would have gotten the absolute shit beaten out of him if it weren’t for the second hovercraft that had shown up. Only, this one dropped peacekeepers, and you knew instantly that you were in huge trouble. With the arena falling apart, the fire eating at the forest around you, the lack of Katniss, Beetee and Finnick due to an earlier hovercraft, and the fact that you were clearly grouped up with the two morons.

Johanna was an easy grab, Peeta fought relatively hard, and there was no struggle from you. The only thing you actually remember is getting a sedative inside of the hovercraft, and that was it.

“Yes, I knew that they were taken out of the arena.” you answer Snow, blinking a bit to refocus your eyes, “And that means that Peeta and Johanna are here.”

Snow moves aside for you to see inside, and with the pucker of your lips, you move over to see inside. You clench your teeth, expecting the worst, and when you do finally look in, it’s… you can’t put it into words.

Peeta is strapped to a chair, malnourished, purple eye bags that are see able even from this distance. He looks nothing like he did before, he looks gross. Like a…

Like a boy that would have to file for tesserae to eat for the next year. A kid from the Seam.

You swallow thickly, “What the fuck?”

“If I find out that you aren’t telling the truth--” His voice is measured, but there’s an underlying tone, anger, you think, “--then I will bring you back from District Two. And I will be getting the real answers.”

If this is what they’ve done to Peeta--sack of flour, absolutely harmless--you can’t imagine what loudmouth Johanna looks like.

“I’m telling the truth.” you tell him, your eyes flickering back to Peeta.

He’s spotted you now, and the two of you stare at each other, eyes locked and neither of you move. With the look of you, he relaxes. It’s strange that the sight of you gives him so much peace, even though you would have killed him if the peacekeepers hadn’t come. But he must see something in your face, because he draws his eyebrows together, like he’s asking a question.

“How long have I been here?” you ask Snow.

“A couple of weeks.”

You look at him now, “I’ve been in a coma?”

“Medically induced. Those spiders weren’t just flesh-eating, they were venomous too.”

Not to mention your head injury, and everything else that had occurred inside of there. You might as well be lucky to be alive.

“I want you to do something for me, when you do get back to District Two.” Snow says, you look at Peeta again to see that the glass is blocked.

“Which is?”

“Show them that you are a loyalist, and get the rebels to calm down.”

One word spirals up in your mind, strong and stubborn that you struggle to hold down; No.

They have Peeta strapped to that chair like he’s an animal. They’re starving him, they’re depriving him of sleep, and that window is blocked because they’re doing something to him. 

“I’m not agreeing to that until I get to see Johanna and anyone else you have here.” you tell him, “Only then I will try to get two to settle down.”

Snow smiles a little, “You’ll have two weeks.”

You nearly laugh in his face right then, but manage to hold it back, “I don’t have much of a choice, I’ve already agreed, haven’t I?”

Snow nods approvingly, before leading you right next door. In this chair is Johanna. Her hair is shaved, she’s soaking wet, and she’s thrashing against the restraints without control. You take back what you said about Peeta, this is an animal. Doing this to Johanna is like putting an angry lion inside of a small cage. It’s only a matter of time before she gets out and explodes.

She looks just as hungry and tired as Peeta does. But Peeta isn’t getting nearly as bad as tortured as she is. She looks like she’s been through hell and back, as if she’s seen the devil himself and laughed in his face. 

In this case, Snow would be the devil, and she would be the exact fool to do something like that. 

Johanna spots you the same way that Peeta did, by the off chance that her eyes glance over the glass. The second that she has, she relaxes for a moment, and the window is covered almost immediately after.

The both of them had the same reaction upon seeing you. You can’t think of a reason why, until it hits you. They have to be thinking that you’re here to save them. You’re seeing the state that they’re in, and they’re hoping that you’ll relay the message to tell someone of their condition, you’re sure of it.

Snow grabs your arm, yanking you along to the door across from Johanna’s. When you look into this one, you’re a little more confused.

“Annie Cresta wasn’t inside of the hunger games.” you place your hand against the glass, “Why--”

“Leverage.” Snow says simply, “Who would she belong to, Miss Rosecelli? Who would tear the world apart to get to her?”

It dawns on you then, and you nod a little bit. Finnick, obviously. This is Finnick’s girlfriend, the one that you told him to keep. 

“What’s the point of having her if you’re not starving her like the rest?” you ask.

“I do have morals.”

‘Not very high ones’, you think.

“I’m surprised,” you look at Snow, “Considering all the other shit you’ve done, you still have a heart.”

Annie is healthy, that’s all you have to say about her. She’s got rope to twirl and knot, she’s got books to read, food to eat and a nice bed. She’s not strapped to anything, it looks like she has medication, and she’s content. You can’t help but to wonder if she’s secretly going insane or plotting her escape, though.

“One more room.” Snow ignores your comment, ushering you to the door to the right of Annie’s.

You shuffle over, thinking that Snow couldn't have possibly taken anyone else that would matter. Beetee’s girlfriend--or whatever Wiress was to him--is long gone. There’s no leverage to have against her.

“Take a look inside.” he’s smug.

You stare for a moment, before following his directions.

Tanith.

Your hand flies up, going to grab the doorknob, but Snow stops you, a tight hand on your wrist, “Just in case you thought that it’s only your life on the line.”

He’s threatening to kill her.

You clench your teeth together, not removing your eyes from Tanith. She looks almost as bad as the other two do. Except, Tanith is a few days behind. Snow didn’t start the process on her until recently. It won’t take long until she catches up, because he could make that happen at the snap of his wrinkly fucking fingers.

“I understand.” you grind your teeth.

She’s not awake to see you, Snow was anticipating this visit. He had her knocked out so that she wouldn’t try and fight against the restraints. She’s smart enough to slip out of them, it makes you curious if Snow knows that too, or he just wanted to see your reaction to having her unconscious. Like he’s trying to trick you into thinking she’s dead.

“The avox will take you to the hovercraft.” he lets you go, “Two weeks.”

Snow has just made the biggest mistake in his life.

[goldafterglow]

Here to offer you some validation from a cat. It’s the highest form in the universe.

It’s been too long but I was incapacitated by the thought of Ezra cuddling with his cat and calling her “sweet girl” and that convo you made up between them 🥺 Did you know cats rub their cheeks and faces on humans to mark them as family? Ezra’s family 😭

If Din doesn’t get his act together the cat might bite and scratch you instead. They turn so quickly, what can I say.

-A🐈

A/N: WHAT THE FR*CK THIS IS SO CUTE I WROTE A LITTLE THING IN YOUR NAME (also agreed Din needs to square the fuck up and I’m glad you read sugar petals baby). I remember the convo, and I think Ezra has had and will continue to have a million more with his cat child. Also I did not fucking know that I think it’s rude that you would just tell me that and then walk away. I frankly don’t know anything about cats, so this is just I can’t even describe how motherfucking SOFT I am in this Chili’s tonight.

Warnings: just fluff, lots and lots of platonic/familial love, just being completely whipped for his cat, Ezra absolutely adoring his cat and talking to her ahhhh

Word Count: 667

The thing is, Ezra probably doesn’t know a ton about cats at first. When he first takes the cat in is when he really starts to do his research, but even then his focus is probably more on how to keep her alive rather than trying to understand the her - what they eat, what to do when they’re sick, how to let them heal. He won’t recognize what she’s doing at first when he’s just sitting on his cot and she comes up to him, seemingly nuzzling into his side. He of course pets her back - how could he ever resist her, resist her affection? Maybe even presses a little kiss to the top of her head if she lets him.

It’s not until later that he’s reading those chapters in his little things-to-know book, the ones trying to translate her behavior towards him in terms of body language. He’s nose-deep, fully engrossed, and as he reads over that part she seems to sense the mood shift. She seems to sense how lonely he is, how validated and loved he feels by her. How she has come to accept him as her own, take him in and mark him and something she wants to be associated with, something she wants to hold onto.

Or at least, he could swear she notices.

But he isn’t pulled away from the book until he feels her paw up next to him, slide into his lap and press her cheek into his thigh. He looks down at her with stars in his eyes, hears what she is telling him. And he puts the book away, off to the side, and starts running his fingers right at the base of her ears. He lets out his soft giggle when she presses into him, guiding his big fingers towards the exact spot she wants to be petted, and it’s almost debilitating. To be wanted. To be loved. He smiles down at her, entirely enamored, like she has given him something that no amount of shelter or milk or head scratches could ever repay. His breath condenses into love, stuck at the back of his throat and stuffing his airways.

“I often wonder what you wanted from me,” he mumbles down to her, musing out loud. He cherishes these conversations; she is often more attentive than his former companions, his human companions. Far wiser. She begins purring, eyes squeezed shut in utter bliss. “True, I do feed you. Shelter you. Keep you warm. But I’d never considered those things prerequisites for indoctrinating someone as family. I always presumed there was something greater. You seem to understand better than I do, don’t you sweet girl?” He not even sure if she’s listening anymore, his fingers like magic as he scratches her neck, keeping her preoccupied with the comfort of his reverent attention. “Yes. Perhaps it was just me that you wanted.”

She opens her eyes again, pausing to look up at him. He takes the beat of silence in stride, leaning down fear enough to press his forehead to hers.

“You’re my family,” he coos, not wanting to provoke her with the loud vibrations of his voice against her soft muzzle. His voice is shaky, quivering on the high wire at he tears his heart out of his chest and displays it to her, letting her decide if she wants to nurture it or eat it.

“My love. My all. My girl.”

She seems to understand, accepting his affection, and he melts at the acceptance. It’s extraordinary, being wanted. She has always taken care of him, never left his soul empty and longing. There is something so pure in the love he shares with her, some meek little ball of trembling fluff turned into his confidante, the best conversationalist he’s ever known. And when she rubs her cheek into his, letting him press a kiss to her fur coat, he knows she must feel the same way. He knows she loves him too.

Tags: @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @cryptkeepersoul @dindjarindiaries @antmnwasp @teaofpeach @nopeforyou @frankiemorales @stanfordscrush @thatreclusewriter @thirstworldproblemss @buckstaposition @thepjofanqueen @wickedfrsgrl

Ppl I think might maybe want to be tagged: @mrpascals @ergotautology

[johannas-motivational-insults]

While you're talking HM, what about what was going on in the director corner during the pushup contest?

Oh, this is a fun one. (Commentary is bolded.)

So this scene was not planned, not really. I was on the bit where Catra is comforting Adora over something she doesn’t understand (Adora’s hurt feelings thinking that Catra is hung on on Scorpia, if that wasn’t clear from Adora’s side of things in previous chapters) and I, like Catra, was trying to think of a way to move on from that. I needed to cap the chapter and bring the mood up a little and Catra didn’t want Adora to to be sad anymore. So uh, yeah, this happened.

“I’m going to hug you now, okay?” announces Catra. Asking Adora if she wants a hug generally just causes her more distress, gives her one more thing to think about when she’s already overloaded. Adora gives a jerky nod and Catra steps in, wrapping her arms securely around Adora’s torso and pinning her arms to her ribs. Adora’s still standing stiff in her grip, though. “Tighter?”

Admittedly I kind of stole the “tighter?” thing from a scene in season 2 of Atypical. Not on purpose, but that scene lives rent free in my head so I can’t claim I would have come up with it on my own. As an autistic and a snarky wlw jock that show makes me feel seen.

“Yeah,” whispers Adora. When Catra obeys, the tension finally leaves Adora’s body, her chin relaxing onto Catra’s shoulder with a sigh. Moving entirely on instinct, Catra tips her head to rub her cheek against Adora’s. Her hands are kind of occupied, after all, locked tightly around her own biceps to maintain the pressure. Adora responds by nuzzling into Catra’s shoulder, but her throat bobs again against Catra’s collarbone. Clearly this isn’t enough, so Catra wracks her brain for another strategy. Anything to cheer Adora up, get her mind off whatever’s bothering her.

I just love opportunites for Catra to act vaguely catlike in human form. I try not to throw them in just for comedic effect in a way that’s distracting, but I liked this one.

“Hey, wanna have a push up contest?” is what she comes up with.

Adora snorts into her neck and Catra smiles. Shrugging off Catra’s arms, Adora steps back and sizes her up, eyes gleaming competitively in that way Catra loves. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Diaz.”

Adora, you are so very predictable.

She really should know better than to say something like that, knowing Catra’s abilities. Oh well, that’s just more motivation to kick her ass.

With this many jocks in one room, it turns into quite the event. Rogelio makes Entrapta pause the game so he can partake, and Entrapta gleefully accepts the role of referee. At Adora’s request, she changes the music to something with a strong beat, and the competitors shake their arms out and begin to take their positions on the floor.

I miss hanging out with jocks. One brain cell, all competitive energy.

Catra’s getting in the zone, the music narrowing her focus, but when the lyrics start and she recognizes the voice she almost chokes on her laughter. “Is this Nickelback?”

“It’s one of Scorpia’s favorite workout songs!” Entrapta says in her own defense.

Scorpia gasps, one hand flying to her chest as everyone shares a laugh at her expense. “Et tu, Entrapta?”

S.E.X. is a great workout song and no I do not take criticism. Tbh I threw this in because music was already such a big theme in this chapter that I wanted to continue with having a soundtrack, and because I have fond memories of this song playing in the locker room while my hockey team was getting dressed and pumped up for games.

In total there’s eleven of them on the floor when Entrapta says go, including Lonnie and Scorpia. But Catra’s not worried. This is just one more arena where people underestimate her. She’s lean, and yeah she definitely can’t bench as much as Scorpia or even Adora, but she’s strong for her size. She was a gymnast for fuck’s sake, bodyweight exercises are her jam.

This may be a little bit of a flip off to people who underestimate Catra’s strength and/or act like she would want to watch Adora work out but lie around lazily herself. Catra is compact but ripped, and she would absolutely ogle Adora but she’s also a competitive little motherfucker. Then again this whole fic started as a flip off to the football player Adora/cheerleader Catra trope so this is very on brand for me.

As Catra expected, the meatier types drop off quickly. Scorp and Hel and the other linemen are used to pushing hard, of course, but never for long. They can’t keep the beat past twenty push ups, but Catra’s just getting started.

It comes down to her and Adora, as always. Catra thrives off of competition and loves beating Adora in particular, but sometimes she thinks having a nemesis other than Adora would be nice. It gets a little confusing. (Oh Catra, I feel you. Being in constant competition with your crush and that making it even harder to know how to feel about her is a lesbian MOOD.) The lyrics aren’t exactly helping with that, either.

‘I'm lovin’ what you wanna wear’ ‘Wonder what's up under there’ ‘Wonder if I'll ever have it under my tongue’

Catra exhales hard with every push, trying to ignore Adora’s breathy grunts to her left. Sweat rolls down her brow and drips off her nose as her face heats up, and she’s glad she has the contest to blame for it. The rest of the room hollers and cheers but Catra barely hears any of it. It’s just her and Adora, locked in a battle of wills.

Jesus Christ is it getting hot in here? (Also yes this might be a slight nod to how they’re both tops and this is what makes their relationship great.)

‘S is for the simple need’ ‘E is for the ecstasy’ ‘X is just to mark the spot ‘cause that’s the one you really want’

Yeah can you blame me for picking this song? ‘Cause tbh...

Adora keeps up longer than Catra expected, powered by pure competitive lesbian energy. Catra almost starts to worry she ran her big mouth and is about to have her ass handed to her, but soon after they hit the 50 mark Adora’s arms start to wobble, her breaths coming hard.

“Come on, Adora!” shouts Lonnie. “Don’t give up now!”

Of course Lonnie’s on her side. That just makes Catra grit her teeth and push through the burn with a breathless growl.

“Keep it up, Wildcat!” counters Scorpia. “Just a little more, she’s fading!”

I love Scorpia and Lonnie butting heads over Catra because Lonnie is that mean friend and Scorpia is Scorpia. It’s gonna happen again in chapter 8. ;)

Catra keeps pounding away and Adora finally falters, her jelly arms failing to match the beat in time.

Oh that... that was not meant to sound as sexual as it did. But I will absolutely not take that back.

“Adora, you’re out!” calls Entrapta. “That’s it!” Still, Adora doggedly fights through to the top of her final push up before collapsing in a heap. Grinning down at the floor, Catra keeps going. Might as well drive the point home. “Catra, you can stop now!”

A broken and beautiful laugh sounds beside Catra’s ear, a blunt fingernail poking into her shoulder as she works. “Show off.”

Adora is absolutely just taking an opportunity here to touch Catra while watching her work out. It goes both ways.

But Catra’s not just showing off. She has a goal. When Entrapta finally hits 69, she drops to the hardwood with a heavy gasp. Raising one hand, she pinches the tips of her thumb and forefinger together and pants, “Nice.”

That is so very Catra.

That gets a laugh out of the crowd, including Adora. One of her hands touches Catra’s back and Catra turns her head to find her smiling. Genuinely, this time. It’s the most beautiful sight in the world. Catra flips onto her back to see it better, and Adora’s hand ends up resting on her heaving stomach.

And they both wish it was lower lbr.

“Tell me again how you don’t like being the center of attention,” teases Adora, her speech still broken and breathless.

Catra just grins, clasping her hands behind her head. “Never said I didn’t.”

Yeah for something I added in at the last minute I really enjoy this scene. Competitive sexual tension is my jam.