#and her shooting back with 'i know that. but what does that matter? this is all my life has been. i was made to be here and do this'

[k-aalia]

Breathtaking

Joey knows it's bad manners and probably distasteful. Really, he does.

Despite what others may think, he really is a gentleman. Tries his best to be, at least.

Unfortunately, his mouth has always run quicker than his brain. Usually it just gets him into a bit of trouble he can't talk his way out of, but every now and then it just leaves him embarrassed and humiliated in front of pretty people.

He will not let this be a repeat of that situation though. Not when the girl who's grabbed his heart is the most gorgeous, ethereal woman that he has ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon.

Especially not when she's Seto Kaiba's fuckin' personal assistant.

It's not often Joey comes to KaibaCorp -- okay, he never comes to KaibaCorp -- but Yugi had invited him along for one of his weekly matches with the man himself.

And for the first time in his life, Joey just cannot focus on the game playing out in front of him.

Not that seeing Yugi and Kaiba duel isn't always some sort of spectacle -- and these days, filled with so much innuendos and flirting it's like watching a particularly captivating trashy TV show -- but no matter the dramatics or the plot twists, Joey's attention is firmly held by the pretty woman sitting next to him in the spectator stands.

Kisara, Joey knows her name is after hearing Kaiba bark commands at her. Silky white hair flowing over her shoulders and curling round her pale face. Her eyes are a beautiful sparkling blue, intensely focussed on the laptop sitting on her knees.

"Hey, how's it going?" Joey says to her and fights the urge to wince.

Really? That's the best he can do?

Kisara blinks and turns her head to face him, concentration broken as she looks at Joey like she's only just realised he's there.

"Oh, hi. I'm just working," she tells him with a quick smile and fuck is it breathtaking.

She turns back to her laptop and Joey curses silently as he realises he'd missed the opportunity to say anything more, too captivated by her stupid pretty smile and now if he tries again it's gonna be awkward and god, what if he makes her uncomfortable?

Kaiba and Yugi's duel finishes soon after and Joey practically runs up to Yugi to try and escape his spiralling thoughts. The two of them are halfway to the door when Kaiba grabs his arm and pulls him back.

Joey whirls around, a taunt on the tip of his tongue. What's wrong, rich boy, want me to beat your ass too?

But he stops when he sees Kaiba's sneer.

"Don't hit on my assistant." He warns "Kisara is too good for a mutt like you."

Joey feels himself flush, pulling his arm out of Kaiba's grip.

"Fuck off man, I was just being polite!" He snaps back.

Seto's sneer falters slightly as he narrows his eyes, looking Joey over like he's some fun new puzzle to solve.

"At least wait until she's off the clock. I can't have you distracting her."

Seto stalks off before Joey can get another word in, Kisara at her bosses side in an instant. Despite recieving Kaiba's blessing -- which he didn't want or need, by the way -- Joey is almost certain it's not gonna do him any good anyway. Kisara is way out of his league, as usual, and totally not interested in him. As usual.

Joey suspects he has a type.

But just when he thinks he's done for, Kisara looks over his shoulder to shoot him a wink and a smile.

Oh. Joey thinks, heart beating so fast it could burst from his chest. I'm totally in love.

[uniquezombiedestiny]

Why was I made this way?

full text (its bella monologue sunday!):

"I'm always here to help." That's what I always say! But sometimes, I have to wonder, well… why else am I here? Whenever I fall down or… or have one of those bad days, I just think, "Well, there's work tomorrow." Hm? Oh, it's not that bad. You get used to it. But anyways, sometimes it just makes me think - what am I? Outside of being your Captain-… I know my name. But what's my purpose? What's the meaning of all my time here? Because so many horrible things keep happening. So many- so many spikes, penetrating straight through my mind; so many things made to laugh and jeer at me; "You couldn't do it! You never could. Never." What else was I possibly made for other than to help you? I wasn't born the way a person was. I was built like a machine, all my life… So why.. Why do I feel anything? Why does everything just drag me down? Why can't I let go of everything I feel while everyone else diligently works? It's tiring. Really tiring. So why couldn't I have just been built out of metal and wires instead? Why couldn't they have just made me a machine? A perfect, unfeeling metal body. Noone could ever hurt me again. I'd never have to cry; to deliberate; to feel guilty about anything… Why? Why was I made this way? Why am I a human being at all in this place… if not to fail..?

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[jo-com]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable

Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!

Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ‧₊˚ ☁️ ─ ───────

Yn.cult just posted!

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Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋

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Bellahadid No invites??

Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE

Bellahadid You better🤨

Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille

Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭

Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!

Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐

User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭

User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl

Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!

Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.

Charles_Leclerc Agreed.

User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭

…

Yn.cult just posted!

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Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋

Tagged; Vougemagazine

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User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time

User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨

User6 Faxx☝🏻

User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨

Vougemagazine lovely having you!

♥️ liked by the author

Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢

…

Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.

But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.

With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.

Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.

The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.

“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.

Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?

Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.

“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.

She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.

“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.

So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.

They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.

…

Yn.cult just posted

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Charles_Leclerc, urbff and 3,490,672 others

Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋

…

Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)

"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.

The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."

Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.

"Elaborate."

The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.

"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."

There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:

"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"

None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.

A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."

On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.

The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.

Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.

None of them reach it.

The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.

"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.

"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."

She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?

Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.

"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.

"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.

It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.

And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

And then the Pit starts closing up.

Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.

A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.

"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"

Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.

"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.

"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.

"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."

"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.

"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."

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

What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.

The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.

I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.

Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.

Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.

Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.

Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.

| <- prev | next -> |

[riality-check]

The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

[sunkissedrafe]

okay but imagine innocent!reader going to a party with rafe and his friends and getting a little over served!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

standing around a makeshift fire pit the guys set up because your short little dress doesn’t help much in keeping you warm. rafe and the guys circle around it too nursing their beers and talking about a bunch of manly topics you have no interest in, until…

“what about truth or dare?” kelce asks and the group enthusiastically agrees. your ears perk up at the idea, and you look up at rafe with your glassy doe eyes jumping up and down a couple times. “can i play too, rafey? love truth or dare!!!” he gives you a kiss on the forehead and a little nod.

the game is going so good at first, except they start take advantage of you as you down more of your fruity drink:(((

“i dare you to try and touch your elbows together.” one of the guys slurs out, and of course you’re determined to do it. you furrow your brows as you struggle to touch the two together, squeezing your hardest as they all watch your tits nearly pop out of your dress.

at first rafe just watches with an amused grin. he knows he has a ten for a girlfriend and he isn’t naive to the fact that all of his friends would pounce on you given the chance. it doesn’t matter that they look because they know damn well they’ll never touch.

“dare you to touch your toes without bending your knees, i heard it’s like… impossible.” topper chimes in with a smirk. rafe shoots him a narrow eyed glance as you bend over. his jaw clenches when you stumble and end up with your back facing the group, pretty pink panties on display as you grunt and eventually reach your toes. “think i did it! did i??”

“yeah, yeah alright. okay. you did it baby.” rafe pulls you back up and wraps his arm around your waist after tugging the hem of your dress back below your ass. you giggle and take another sip of your drink, so proud of yourself for completing such an impossible task.

you were feeling so warm and bubbly you didn’t even think about the fact that none of the others had been doing any dares!!

“i d-dare you,” one of the more drunk guys stammers out and chuckles, stepping closer to you, “to.. to see if you can unbutton.. my pants with y-your teeth.” he and the rest of the guys erupt in a fit of commotion, but rafe isn’t so amused!

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he shoves the guy back roughly, his broad frame towering over him. “huh?”

“cmon rafe it- it wasn’t even like that bro!”

“it wasn’t?” rafe speaks lowly and slowly steps closer as his friend cowers down. you watch with wide eyes as rafe’s hand reaches behind his back and to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers gripping the shiny metal gun he keeps on him. “you do so much as look in her direction the rest of the night..” rafe lets out his signature psychotic chuckle and lets go of the gun, using the same hand to grip his friends collar and pull him so they’re nose to nose. “y’know.. that big fuckin’ forehead you got is damn near beggin’ me to use it for target practice.”

he shoves his friend to the ground and clears his throat, grabbing a new beer from the cooler and cracking the top. he takes a sip and pulls you back into his side, squeezing your hip reassuringly. you beam up at him and he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

he glances back around to his group, but all of them are silent. the only sound is the wood crackling in the rusty barrel in front of you. “anyone else wanna play?”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog

[aquitainequeen]

Here I am, hours later, still crying about Furiosa and Praetorian Jack. George Miller, Nico Lathouris, Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke are geniuses. They completely sold me on just how much these characters loved each other.

Furiosa coming out of a nightmare, wielding a knife, to be caught by Jack. He doesn’t say it’s all right or that she’s safe, she doesn’t say it was just a bad dream. They don’t say anything. Jack eases her back down to her cot and they settle down, aware of each other.

Jack stitching up Furiosa’s shoulder in a hidden spot in the Citadel, Furiosa showing Jack the peach seed that she’s kept hidden in her hair for so long, proving that the Green Place is out there, asking him to come with her, pressing her forehead to his while cupping the back of his head, showing him her love in the manner of her people, and him returning the gesture. After fifteen years, she’s finally going home, and he’s coming with her.

And then...

Spoilers beyond here!!!

And then:

The battle of the Bullet Farm, which is where the strength and force of their love really started to batter me. Furiosa manages to avoid the ambush and get out of the Farm before the gate closes, and Jack could easily have slipped through the gate to join her, but he sees the enemy forces mustering and knows they’ll quickly be hunted down if there's nothing to stop their pursuers. He shoots off a green flare that clearly tells Furiosa to abandon him and get the hell out of there, intending to sacrifice himself so that she has a chance to escape and set off for the Green Place. Furiosa does drive off, but gets maybe five metres before she decides ‘fuck this’ and goes back in to try and save him. And she saves him from his pursuers and she saves him from falling to his death, and they get to their escape vehicle and drive off, with nary a word spoken or exchanged until they’re on the flat and heading for freedom. And even then, all that’s mentioned is what direction they should take to reach the Green Place. That's it. They don’t need anything else. They survived, they got out, they're together, they’re going to be all right.

And they almost make it. They almost get away.

When they’re captured by Dementus and forced onto their knees, there’s no special close up on them; mostly they’re on the edge of the shot while Dementus is ranting centre stage or screaming into their faces. They pay no heed to him. That love infuriates Dementus. He shrieks, he tears at them, but he can’t break them. He doesn’t matter. What matters is that they spend their last moments touching each other, leaning into each other, pressing their foreheads together, breathing deep, loving each other.

There are no parting words between Furiosa and Jack, no declarations or promises or screams of despair, but it hit me so hard and cut so deep that the second to last time we see Jack’s face, he’s craning desperately to see what’s happening to Furiosa, trying to get one final precious glimpse of her, before he’s quite literally dragged to his awful death.

We don’t see Furiosa’s reaction to her torture on multiple fronts, as she is strung up by her maimed arm and forced to watch Jack die. We’ve seen her scream and weep for her mother, but this moment is hers alone. It’s not for us.

How fitting it is that Jack saves Furiosa one last time, as his execution distracts Dementus and his crew from noticing that Furiosa has cut off her own arm to escape.

The last time we see Jack’s face is in Furiosa’s last nightmare.

Furiosa doesn’t mention Jack in her final showdown with Dementus, when she screams about her mother and her stolen childhood. But from what’s shown to us, I think that the spot in the Citadel when she imprisons Dementus and grows the peach tree in the midst of his emaciated, maggot-ridden body…is the same place where Jack stitched up her wounded shoulder, where she showed him the peach seed, where she asked him to come with her to the Green Place and he accepted, where she showed him her love in the manner of her people, where they embraced. Where she avenged herself and Jack, upon the man who destroyed their lives.

Where Furiosa now plucks the first fruit of the tree to bring to the Five Wives, whom she will bring with her to the Green Place.   

[lixie-phoria]

↳ ♡₊˚. rest please ꒱

9th!member reader falling sick from overwork and stress

requested - yes // Would you be able to possibly do a skz x ninth reader where she’s not feeling well and like throws up everywhere, and chan and the members help her though her not feeling well then specifically chan?

gn!reader x ot8 // warnings - reader is overworked, faints, mentions of diets, reader throws up (lmk if I missed anything!)

there is only one bang chan. you're sure of it. but as you stand up from the floor of the dance room, you see double images of your leader looking at you in confusion.

"yn?"

his voice resonates through your head, like an echo from someplace far, concern woven through his urgency.

you should probably reply to him, right?

"yn? can you hear me?"

when he steps forward, the world shifts. a searing pain runs across your head, like a red hot spike drilling into your skull.

"wha-"

you see it happen in the mirror - your figure collapsing onto the ground, jeongin's panicked yell, and the thud that follows immediately after before everything goes black.

it was just the three of you in the practice room that day, the others too busy with vocal training or recording or filming. it was comeback season, and to top things off your solo project was nearing too, closely following the release of your group album. and to say that you were overworked was an understatement. you don't remember the last time you slept for longer than an hour.

your days revolved around practice, recording, photo shoots, diets, promotions, and what not. this was busiest you have ever been, and it was slowly starting to show.

you register a dull pain in your upper arm and the throbbing of your head as you blink up at the bright ceiling lights glaring at you. you're covered in sweat, lying on the couch with your head awkwardly propped up against it's arm rest.

"she's up!" someone shouts as your senses return to you slowly. you're still in the dance room, but everything feels stuffy. someone is pressing an ice pack against your forehead.

"yn you scared us!"

all the members seem to have assembled in the dance room, crowding over your figure.

"what happened?" your voice is hoarse and your head feels groggy as you sit up, leaning away from felix as he tries to push you back down.

"you fainted! you were out for nearly fifteen minutes!"

"what?"

"yeah. scared the life out of chan hyung," jeongin adds.

"of course she did! do you know how worried we were?"

you feel mortified. you can't believe you fainted in the middle of practice.

"are you ok? does anything hurt? you fell pretty hard."

you shake your head - no. of course, the pounding in your head was getting worse and you were sure you bruised your arm but you weren't going to tell them that. being the maknae meant they already babied you a lot. there was no way you would admit how sick you felt.

"alright good. let's leave then."

"leave?" you stare at chan in confusion as he goes to unplug his phone from the speaker.

"yeah. you don't think we're going to let you dance after this, right?"

your eye twitches in mild annoyance as you listen to him speak so matter of factly.

"how come i don't have a say in this?"

"because the last time we let you have your say, you passed out."

"i'm ok! i don't need a break," you hiss, eyes narrowing as chan turns to look at you exasperated.

"yn-"

"i passed out, so what? big deal! you can't just call off practice when we have an album coming out!"

your voice escalates as you snap, and the others look at you in shock.

"yn calm down-"

"stop asking me to calm down!"

you don't know where the burst of annoyance was coming from, but it was strong and red hot, urging you to take it out on your members.

"i'm fine! stop treating me like a baby!"

you push away felix's hand from your shoulder, standing up to prove your point.

but that was a big mistake.

an ugly feeling immediately rises up your chest, slithering through your throat as the world tilts again and the lights blink at you.

"fuck."

you were far from fine, and that is the last thing you register before pushing past lee know and han, running out of the room and to the nearest washroom you can find, heaving your insides out.

it's terrible, kneeling on the ground as your head pounds worse than ever and flashes fill your vision.

"yn!"

you distantly register chan's panicked voice as he skids into your cubical, wasting no time in kneeling down right beside you, pulling your hair up into a makeshift pony.

"i need you to breath, ynnie. let it all out," he whispers softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down you back as your body tembles from the gags.

a small part of you wonders what chan is doing in the washroom, before realizing that in your hurry you probably ran into the common staff bathroom.

"are you feeling better?"

chan's hands hover behind your back as you weakly get to your feet, mustering the energy to pull the flush and rinse your mouth with water.

you can do nothing but nod, slumping against him as you exit the bathroom, and his hands immediately clasp your waist, holding you up.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes as you let him guide you to wherever he decided was best.

"it's not your fault."

"i shouldn't have yelled at you."

"it's ok, yn. we all have our bad days."

you feel the cold breeze on your face as you open your eyes to see he's walking you out of the building's back door, with your manager waiting with the car.

"if I take you to the dorms will you please rest?"

your brain wants to refuse. you need to perfect your choreography. you don't have time for rest.

but your body is an entirely different story. you can barely walk or see straight.

"ok."

your voice is small, and chan immediately knows you're reluctant.

you hear him sigh softly as he helps you into the car before climbing in himself.

"ynnie, please rest. or you'll get worse and might not recover until the release day. wouldn't that be worse?"

he does have a point.

"and taking a break is okay. you're doing so well, you don't have to push yourself when there's nothing you're lacking in."

he ruffles your hair softly as you lean into the seat.

"thank you."

"don't thank me when I didn't even realise how overworked you were until you literally collapsed!"

you laugh softly, slightly leaning down to rest your head against his shoulder.

"don't blame your-"

you're cut off when Chan's ringtone blares into the silence and he jumps slightly, fishing out the device from his pocket.

"fuck."

"what's wrong?" You turn to look at his steadily paling face.

"I forgot to tell the others you're okay and I'm taking you back to the dorms."

"shit," you agree, wincing as chan hesitantly slides the accept button.

"hello...?"

"YAH WHERE ARE YOU BOTH WE'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE BUILDING FOR THE PAST 10 MINUTES IS YN OKAY?"

lee know is loud, and chan has to lean away from his phone as the second oldest's voice comes out loud enough as though he's on speaker.

"minho-ah I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you guys. She's okay now we're going to the dorms."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FORGOT?"

you sigh before taking the phone from chan as his wince deepens.

"I'm okay. I'm so sorry for worrying you but please calm down."

the change in lee know's voice is so immediate it earns a snort from chan.

"oh yn, of course! Please take care, I'll bring back some soup and ramen for you when we come back from practice."

"thank you! Now please stop worrying."

you hand back chan his phone as he flashes you a grateful smile.

"i hope he brings me back ramen and soup too."

©lixie-phoria, 2024

taglist - @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[quimichi]

₊❏❜ ⋮ MEETING THEIR FAMILIES -HEARTSLABYUL VER.

warnings: bad treatment towards reader (Riddles part), bad writing :3

summary: You meet their families

characters: Heartslabyul x F!Reader

word count:

a/n: I originally planned to do all in one part but I decided not to since it's so so much and I'm currently having a writers block but I wanna make you guys happy so-its in parts :(

Riddle

Riddle's mother is a strict woman, and she does not hide her dislike for you. She frowns the moment she sees you and crosses her arms. The situation is tense as she watches you, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She seems to be considering your motives with her son, but it is clear that she has a low opinion of you for some reason.

Riddle is nothing compared to her; he has no power, he's weak standing beside you. Yet, he stands proud, he loves you and no matter what his mother will say, his mind won't change. "Mother," he begins. She shoots a hard look at him. With that stare, she seems to say 'do. not. talk."

Riddle goes silent. He knows that if he does talk, it might ruin her approval...if that will ever happen. But you decided to speak up, nervously, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Riddle has told me so many lovely things of you!" you bow down, showcasing your respect. His mother's expression does not change. She seems to consider you for a while before speaking:

"Do you think yourself worthy of my son? Do you think you are a good match for him?"

It's clear that she is sizing you up, and her gaze is piercing.

"Yes." Riddle grabs your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Showing you his support, no matter what he won't back out either, cause he knows whats coming. Your words only draw a frown from his mother. Her expression turns sour.

"I do not think you can give my son the life he deserves. You are too low class for a nobleman. It is clear why you would date him, but what do you have to offer us? It would disgrace his name and our family to wed a commoner. A magicless commoner!" She continues to size you up. She is relentless. Her frown only hardens with every passing moment.

"My son is a nobleman. He deserves a woman of nobility. Riddle dear, I know the perfect girl for you she-" "No!" His voice rings through the halls with booming thunder.

"How dare you," he shouts, his eyes like daggers. He looks as though every muscle is about to tense up so hard it'll burst. "She is good enough. She is worthy of my love. There is no one in this world who I will ever love and admire more! If you don't agree with this relationship then-!...Then I might just leave.

Riddle is standing protectively in front of you now. His heart is thrumming so hard he can feel each pulse. His last words were spoken unsure, timidly, but it's the truth.

"...Then do."

Trey

Trey's parents are thrilled to meet you. The moment they saw you at their doorstep, they took you into their family. They are gracious hosts, offering you food and drinks as soon as you step into the house. Everything is warm and welcoming. Not to mention the cake they baked for you!

The afternoon tea goes smoothly, with conversation flowing as easily as a river. "Again, thank you so much for the tea and cake! It was absolutely delicious!" "It was nothing," Trey's mother says as she refills your mug. She smiles warmly, keeping herself composed with effort. She has heard a lot about you, after all, and the impression she has received so far has been wonderful. Its hard for her to contain her pure excitement, she might explode. All her husband can do is calm her down with a hand on her shoulder, smiling both at you and his wife.

Trey doesn't dare say anything, his lips pressed shut in a smile as he watches from his place. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, content to watch you and his parents interact.

"BROTHER!" You hear two voices yell from the hallway...seems his siblings arrived from school. Trey's young siblings finally make their grand entrance, their voices filling the room with an unexpected cacophony of excitement and joy. The scene is a chaotic one, but in a good way.

His younger brother runs up to you immediately, "Oh-Oh-! You're the pretty girl-!" Before you can question anything his sister also tunes in, "Ohhh-! She really does look as sweet as gum drops-!" "You two, shush immediately-! I'm so sorry-!" Trey's mother apologizes for the behavior of her youngest children, but you shake it off. How could you ever be upset about the honesty of those sweethearts. You definitely will have a word with Trey once you get back...

Cater

Cater never kept it a secret, how much he despises his sisters and mother sometimes. More than once he told you stories. But he has also told you that slowly, the relationship gets better...slowly.

Cater's mother is especially overbearing. She tries her best, but she seems almost incapable of not adding only their favorite sweets to the tablem. She is a bundle of nerves, and she often dotes on Cater. It's as if she finds comfort in treating him like a child, because he is so quiet and calm. Yeah, quite and calm, if only they knew who he truly was.

"Thank you so much for having me." a genuine smile sets on your lips as she pours tea into your cup. "We are so glad to have you," Cater's mother says with genuine warmth.

His sisters continue to prod you in both questions and comments, being too forceful and tactless at times. They think they're being endearing and curious, but don't quite realize that they're over stepping. Cater sits beside you, his eyes darting back and forth as the questions keep flowing. Hes annoyed, of course they will ask inappropriate questions and take the attention.

"Where was the first kiss?" "Ohhh my god did he use his tounge?" "Cater, your hair today looks frizzy." "You look cute but...that top with those jeans...i don't know. Cater you should really watch what your girlfriend wears!" "Yeah! Spend some money on her, damn." "Bad boyfriend."

The constant barrage of questions and comments from his sisters would make even the most stoic people wither. You are not one of those people - you are more patient than you ever realized. You smile through the barrage of words, answering most that you can, ignoring the rest. It hurts, some hurt. You get Cater now to 100%. Your calm demeanor and soft eyes would calm anyone's heart, but his sisters are a bit too persistent, their endless questioning seeming to have no end.

This goes on for some time, until Cater is visibly agitated. "Stop," he says under his breath. He is usually calm and collected, so it draws everyone's attention, even his mother's. "What?" One of his sisters finally asks, feigning innocence.

"Enough," he says simply, but his tone is enough to get them to back off.

He takes a few breaths before giving his mother and sisters a smile. The situation diffuses, but you can sense that he is annoyed. "I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, we didnt came here for an interview. Her outfit is perfect, and I'm NOT a bad boyfriend! I know I'm not..."

Ace

Ace's older brother is charming, witty, and well-liked by everyone. He teases his little brother without any cruelty, making lighthearted jokes at his expense. He is very protective of Ace, he just wants his little brother to be happy. And obviously he wants him to behave in this relationship too.

"He has spoken of you a lot," the older brother comments, his tone teasing. His brother wiggles his eyebrows towards him,  "A bit too much, it seems," Ace says, keeping his voice low, but you hear the annoyance.

"I can't help but hear all about you whenever he's calling me... how much he cares for you, how he's so lucky to have you..." his brother's tone is good-natured. He's just having fun, and hes so glad his brother found true happiness. "Ohh, what else did you say?" Ace can hear the teasing in your voice, no way you're going into this too. "Shut up-!" "Oh, you know," the older brother laughs. "He says you are the sweetest, most beautiful being in the whole wide world. You're an angle with the patience you have for him. He would do anything for you without a second thought. He swears he has never loved another as he has you."

"What a mushy little guy my brother can be," his older brother says, sounding amused.

Ace is turning red. His voice comes out slightly strained, cracking. "I-! I NEVER-! Shut up I never said anything like that, that's way to sappy!" "Mhmmmm, sure bro, sure" His older brother smiles, genuinely.

"I've never seen him so happy," he says, "He's truly a good guy, he just has some rough edges. I'm glad someone like you took their time to get to know him...Take care of him for me."

Deuce

His mother beams. "Oh! This is the one you've been telling me about? You've done well. She is a beauty!"

Deuce's face is tomato red. He is the picture of nervousness, his eyes darting about the room with his mouth clamped shut for fear that he will say too much or too little. His mother's enthusiastic and effusive approach is overwhelming him. He wants to sink into the floor, damning himself for telling his mother and grandmother about you so much. "We are so delighted to have you here. Please," his mother continues, offering you her seat. "Sit, sit! No need to stand around!"

She smiles widely at you as she gestures to a plush chair across from them. A low table separates you, and the three of you are arranged across from one another. Deuce's grandmother walks slowly behind his mother, bearing a tray of tea and pastries in her hands. Without a word, she sits down and quietly offers one of the small cakes to you.

She doesn't take her eyes away from you, smiling wide. You can't help but smile back at her, but before you can thank her she leans closer to Deuce mother. "Perfect aren't they? I knew someone wil eventually see that our Deuce is a catch." She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but you can only agree with her, Deuce is a catch.

"Thank you so much-!" "It's nothing, dear," she says, her voice soft as velvet. His mother breaks the silence, leaning forward in her seat. "Now then, tell us all about yourselves. We have heard plenty from our son, but we want to hear from you."

Deuce is paralyzed. He has nothing ready to say. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding in his chest. Although he is more than happy both his most loved family members love you, he is still nervous. It's embarrassing! "Wait-!" His grandmother immediately stands up from her seat. She disappears and reappears with a thick photo album. She settles back down and opens it.

"Now, let me show you my handsome boy when he was young. I think this is a much better idea!"

Deuce's head falls back, someone kill him. His heart stops at the pictures of himself....fuck...he's naked....

[fear-is-truth]

THE NOBLE WAR.

── tate langdon x f!reader. | wc: 2k

⟢ TAGS— nsfw. mdni ⨟ drūg use ���swearing ⋅ guns ⋅ mention of school shootings ⋅ dom!tate ⋅ degradation ⋅ daddy k!nk (kind of) ⋅ rough sex ⋅ unprotected p in v

⟢NOTE— english is not my first language, sorry if there’s any mistakes

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching your boyfriend pace around the room. His dark eyes are wild, flitting around like they can’t find a place to land. Every muscle in his body is wound tight like a spring, fists clenched as he stalks back and forth, on edge.

His desk is a mess—papers scattered everywhere, a line of coke powdered on the dark wood. He stops mid-stride, hunches over the desk, and quickly snorts another line.

“I’m never gonna be good enough, y’know?” Tate spits out bitterly, wiping his nose and sniffing hard. His gaze flickering to you for just a second before darting away again.

“No matter what I do, it’s never fucking enough. She wants me to be her perfect son—well, news flash, I’m not. Boo-fuckin’-hoo.”

You remain silent. You hate it when he’s like this—coked up, pissed off, unpredictable. It’s like walking on a tightrope, and one wrong move could send you both plummeting. He moves back to the desk, snorting another line of coke without even hesitating. The sight of it makes your stomach churn, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out,

“Tate, quit snorting that crap.”

His head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing dangerously. For a moment, you see the depth of his rage, burning bright and dangerous behind his eyes. There’s no sadness there, no self-loathing—just pure, unfiltered hatred.

“Oh, so now you’re my therapist?” he sneers.“You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Fuck it, I’m never gonna be what she wants. And I’m done trying.” His eyes land on something under the bed. You follow his gaze and feel your blood run cold when you see the shotgun sticking out from underneath. You’ve known about the gun for a while, but it’s never felt as real, as threatening, as it does in this exact moment.

“What if I just… ruined everything for her?” he mutters, more to himself than to you. His fingers drum on the desk, his eyes still fixed on the firearm. Tate steps closer to the bed, closer to you, and you instinctively shrink back, though you hate yourself for it. He smirks at your reaction, a bitter, twisted smile.

“Like how?” you ask, your voice trembling. “What are you thinking?”

“Think about it,” Tate continues, his tone almost conversational now. “Just walk into school and…” he raises his hand to his temple, mimicking pulling the trigger.

“Bam. Peace. Everyone’s off to a better place.”

He can’t be serious—he wouldn’t actually do something like that. He’s just pissed off at his bitch mother, high as a kite, saying whatever comes to mind. But the way he’s looking at the gun, the way he’s talking… it makes you doubt, just for a second.

“Tate, don’t talk like that. It’s not funny.”

He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but flinch.

“Are you scared of me, baby?”

His touch is gentle, but it feels like a threat. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you force yourself to shake your head, though you know he can see the fear in your eyes. He smirks again, as if he enjoys seeing you like this, cornered and helpless.

“You should be,” he whispers.

“You never know what I might do.”

And he’s right.

Being with Tate has severely fucked you up. That nervous twist in the pit of your stomach used to be a warning, a flare of fear meant to keep you safe, but somewhere along the way, you started confusing it with butterflies. A dark thrill creeps into your veins when he’s like this—his anger seething just beneath the surface. Arousal seeps through your panties— you’re pathetically wet, aching for his cock. He knows.

The hand on your cheek slowly creeps down and closes around your throat, pressing you flat against the mattress. A garbled moan escapes you when Tate squeezes gently, experimentally, constricting your airway.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for me?”

It’s wrong. You know it’s wrong. Tate is broken, shattered in ways you can’t fix, but you let him take it all out on you anyway. There’s a twisted satisfaction in it, to be the one he turns to when everything else falls apart. You like him best when he’s like this—when he’s raw and hurting, when he’s desperate enough to hurt you just to feel something real.

And you let him, because somewhere along the line, you’ve convinced yourself that this is what love feels like. That the bruises he leaves on your skin are proof that you mean something to him. That the pain is just another way of being close to him, connected.

Your eyes lock onto his, to see that his pupils are dilated with lust. You nod, eyes prickling with hot tears as you clench in anticipation.

“Yes Daddy,”

Smirking, Tate’s grip on your throat slackens briefly as his other hand fumbles to unzip his jeans, freeing his straining boner. You whimper as he latches his mouth to the column of your throat, planting sloppy, wet kisses. He sucks at the soft skin, gently nipping at your pulse points and dragging more mewls from your lips.

Bunching up your skirt, he yanks down your panties before tossing it aside. Your body trembles at the first few inches—it usually takes longer, but you are so embarrassingly soaked and ready, he can just keep pushing. But still, the fact doesn’t stop the broken moan tumbling from your lips at way his thick girth forcing itself inside you, every ridge and vein rubbing against your slippery walls and leaving a deliciously painful stretch in their wake.

You inhale a large gulp of air that ends with an erotic squeak when he finally bottoms out, spearing you so deep and good that you swear you can feel him in your gut.

“Fuuuuuck— so tight and warm f’ me,”

he grits out, and with a twinge of satisfaction, you can feel his cock throb inside you when you squeeze around him.

The world tilts on its axis; shattering and regrouping itself as you are overcome by the sensation of his cock filling you to the brim. Air rushes in your lungs through your gritted teeth as Tate pulls back slowly, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Without warning, he slams forward, burying himself right to the hilt.

“Pretty little cocksleeve just waiting to get fucked, yeah?

Under other circumstances, you would’ve slapped that crass language out of his mouth. Instead, your pussy clenches tightly around him, greedily sucking him deeper into your warm, plushy walls.

“Oh, now don’t tell me you enjoyed it,”

Tate jeers, dark brown eyes drinking in the sordid expression of ecstasy all over your face—glassy tear-stained eyes, plump lips slightly parted in a silent “o”, brows scrunched up. A sharp smack lands on your clit and you squeal.

“Answer me, slut.”

“Ahhh—Y-yes!”

Saliva dribbles down your chin when you feel the tip of his cock nudge against your cervix.

“T-Tate— please” you hiccup, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

“Please, m-more…”

“Please, m-more,” Tate mimics in a singsong lilt, his tongue tracing tantalisingly along the shell of your ear.

“Please what?” He nips on your earlobe.

“Please Daddy,”

You amend weakly. He hums in satisfaction, hand tightening around your throat once more, the other travels to your chest. Slipping under the loose neckline of your sweater and yanking down harshly, spilling your tits into his hand accompanied by the loud rip of fabric stretching. Fingers twisting your nipples as he palms at the soft flesh.

“Such a submissive little whore when you’re being fucked—how fucking pathetic. You sure you can handle?”

He fucks you slowly, agonisingly, infuriatingly slow. Dragging his cock out before lazily pumping back into you, all in his own good time. Tate leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened nub before biting into it.

“Hghmm— yes I can,”

You mewl shamelessly, toes curling. He pulls out with a lewd squelch; grabbing you roughly by the shoulders before flipping you over on the mattress. His fingers tangle in your hair, forming a makeshift ponytail as he tugs, forcing your spine into a perfect arch—ass up, weeping cunt clenching around nothing.

“I seriously hope you’re speaking from your brain, not your pussy.”

He slides back your warmth, draping his body over you. The new angle encourages you to buck your hips back against him, the globes of your ass smacking on his pelvis and the schlick shlick schilck sounds of your cunt swallowing his cock harmonising into an obscene melody.

“Haaaah yes—oh God yes,”

“…I wish you could see yourself now, little miss goody two-shoes begging to be fucked like a dirty slut,”

You bite down on your lip in an attempt to stifle your moans, which clearly irks him. He reaches forward and pries open your lips with his thumb before shoving his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth. Better to hear you gag around his fingers than nothing at all.

He then begins to move in a vigorous pace, hammering into your abused cunt with forceful yet measured strokes, heavy balls smacking against the sensitive bundle of nerves which lights up your whole body with pleasure.

“Mghmmm–”

You feel his hand resting on your lower abdomen, pressing your inner muscles down onto himself further. The familiar coil at the base of your spine starts to tighten.

“What’s that?” He removes his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop.

“What do you want?”

You try to form words, but his continuous assault on your cunt leaves you unable to voice anything more than broken moans.

“T-Tate… I mean–”

A pornstar-worthy moan erupts from your throat when Tate pinches your clit meanly, rolling the swollen nub between his fingers.

“Daddy I wanna cum!”

“Attagirl.”

The blunt head of his cock nudges against your cervix, and you start to lose any remaining semblance of control. Fingers gripping the sheets, you buck your hips back to meet his thrusts. Tate groans, and you feel the telltale twitch of his cock inside you. It’s obvious that neither of you are going to last for much longer. The bed is creaking under you, and you’re not surprised if the entire house knows what debauchery is going on in your room.

Body going limp, you collapse onto the mattress, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you shatter completely and utterly. With a guttural groan, Tate sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Hips stuttering to a halt as he spills himself into you, spurts of milky white come painting your walls.

He stays inside you for a while longer, cock twitching as he thrusts lazily inside you, grinding his release as deep as it can go. Your eyelids flutter shut as he threads his fingers gently through your hair, the familiar touch soothing you in a way that nothing else can. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips warm and soft against your skin.

“You okay?”

His voice is gentle, filled with a softness that’s distinctly him—the Tate you fell in love with. Right now, he’s your Tate again, the quiet, sweet boy who stole your heart.

You hum in response, leaning into his touch.

He sighs, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“I was just joking with you earlier. About… y’know. Sorry, I was just so pissed—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off gently, “I know.”

You do know. You’ve seen the way anger twists inside him, the way it sometimes spills over in ways he can’t control.

You also know that he’s not joking—not really. There’s a part of him that meant every word he said, a part that’s always teetering on the edge, waiting for an excuse to fall over. And you’re terrified that one day, he’ll take that final step.

But for now, you’re still here. And so is he.

And that’s enough.

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 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[catssluvr]

it would be sososo wonderful if you wrote a cute little blurb abt Spencer and fem!BAU!reader both coming into work with little doodles all over their arms and the team notices or something <3 (yes this is the same anon that sent the headcanon lol)

hii! i loved your headcanon and am so glad you requested this 💌

𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔, spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

you relationship with spencer is revealed when you both show up to work with doodles on your arms <3

warnings: none <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spencer reaches for the mug full of hot coffee, taking a generous sip. His button up feels almost immediately too hot, body warming up due to the hot beverage. He rolls up his sleeves without a second thought, arms covered in little doodles on full display to anyone in the bullpen who decides to look at them.

"Hey, pretty boy. Did you see- are those hearts?" Derek approaches his desk with a teasing smile already making it's way to his lips. Spencer scrambles to cover his arms up, clumsy pulling his sleeves down.

"Did i see what?" He feigns innocence, crossing his arms over his chest as he's way too nervous to actually button up the sleeves. There's no way he's going to out the relationship he's been hiding for a good few months because of some doodles.

"Oh no, you're not running away from this. Why have you got cute drawings all over your arms, uh?" He teases even further, trying to take a peek at the skin under Spencer's button up.

Your gaze immediately shoots up to them once you realize what Derek is referring to, quickly faking a normal expression once you realize your eyes have widened. You pretend to be looking at the files in your table, waiting for the answer. Your table is not far from his so you really have to keep it cool.

"I uh- i was bored and drew them." Spencer says the first excuse that comes to mind and realizes rather quickly how bad it sounds. His neck turns red and it soon spreads to his cheeks and ears too.

"You want me to believe you were bored and decided to draw hearts and butterflies on your arms? Sure, Reid." He chuckles, making sure to give him a hard time.

"Aw, does my sweet boy genius have a girlfriend?" Penelope snoops in, a less teasing and more bright smile on her lips.

"It sounds like he does. Unless he's suddenly ambidextrous and is able to draw perfect hearts on both of his arms." Emily comments, just as interested to make Spencer flustered as Derek.

"I- What if i am?!" Spencer's voice comes out a tad bit squeakier than intended, facade crumbling very easily. He looks at you almost desperately, trying to find a way out of this interrogation without having to reveal your relationship.

"Come on guys, leave the poor boy alone." Rossi saves him before you can, but he seems just as curious as the rest of them. Raised eyebrows and looking directly at him.

"Do you know anything about this, gorgeous?" Derek turns his gaze to you. Spencer gulps nervously, trying to act as normal as possible now that you're also about to be involved.

"Me? Why would i know?" You question a bit too defensively. Lying isn't exactly your forte and now that everyone is looking at you, it feels even harder.

"Wait- do i sense jealously?" It now feels like you're the next chosen victim to their interrogation. You might have aimed for careless but it definitely came off as defensive and bothered.

"You really don't." You roll your eyes as you answer, noticing the way Spencer gives you an apologetical look. You smile for long enough so that he notices but quick enough so no on else sees it.

"I think we do." Rossi agrees with Derek.

You sigh exasperatedly, hand coming to rub your forehead. What you don't notice is the way your shirt rids down, exposing your also covered arm.

"Oh my god- she has them too!" Penelope gasps, not holding back the surprise.

You wonder how they hadn't figured out you and Spencer are dating before. You both aren't exactly great liars and it was just a matter of time until someone caught one of your stollen kisses on the workplace.

"Oops?" You mutter out, cheeks painfully hot as you give up on trying to hide it. There's no way they would believe any kind of excuse now.

"Can't say i'm surprised." Emily is the first to say anything, leaving to go back to her desk as if nothing had happened.

"I'm so happy for you guys." Penelope ruffles Spencer's hair with a smile that's definitely making her cheeks hurt, while Derek resumes to shaking his head with a chuckle.

Spencer gives you a lopsided smile and you quickly realize he's trying to know if you're okay with all of it. You nod with a smile of your own, fingers tracing the doodles on your arm.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[earlysunshines]

looking out for you

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

synopsis: sana always makes sure you’re taken care of, even after a loooong shoot.

warnings: none!!! just fluff ; short short shooorrt considering i write over 5k on average… ; supppper short ; not proofread

a/n: wrote this 100 percent on my phone what the hell… random burst of motivation

foundation covers your cheeks, concealer is still on the little blemish right by your eyebrow, and your lips are still glazed with the lip product from company you’d just shot for.

it’s funny — you’d snicker if your eyes weren’t about to close — since you’re wearing the sweater your girlfriend sana had bought you and old basketball shorts from middle school before you had even considered singing and dancing as a career.

with every blink, your eyelids get heavier and your breathing falls to a more relaxed pace.

“hey babe i’m—“ sana stands still at the door, looking at you with an amused expression. her girlfriend is on their shared bed fully glammed up and nearly asleep. you open your eyes slowly, squinting at the woman who had just returned. sana giggles before sighing, “—back.”

“hey.”

“shoot went well?”

“mhm.” you hum tiredly, feeling the mattress under you shift up and sink back down when it adjusts to sana’s weight. “how was dinner?”

“alright,” she twirls a strand of hair with her pointer finger and smiles softly. “they had your favorite: vodka pasta and dark chocolate at the end, something gourmet.” you hear her snicker before she adds, “gourmet my ass… could’ve gotten that at the convenience store.”

“wasn’t it a michelin restaurant?”

“i don’t really know — or care for that matter.” she kisses your temple. “you weren’t there for me to mind. pasta was good though.”

she kisses you once more and you hum softly, letting the tremor vibrate in the air and mix in with the tenderness airing from your hearts. sana rakes a hand through your hair before getting up and tugging at your wrist.

in return, you whine. you tug your hand back, sparking a little tug of war moment that lasts a mere five seconds before you’re sitting up against your will. sana grins, happy that you’ve complied and then heading towards the bathroom connected to your bedroom.

you fight sleep, blinking and blinking until your eyes shut for a few moments. sana pokes your cheek and it stirs you awake again, her nail sinks into your skin once more, earning a light groan.

she gently guides you to face her, her touch firm but soft as her hands rest on your shoulders. without saying a word, she cups your face, the warmth of her palms soothing against your skin. she reaches for a wipe, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she's savoring the moment.

carefully, she begins to remove your makeup, the wipe gliding effortlessly over your skin, erasing the remnants of three hours worth of shooting and interviews. each swipe is tender, almost reverent, as she leans in closer, her breath tickles your skin. her eyes are focused, but there’s a softness to them, you can’t help but smile softly.

“did you shower at least?” she questions.

“body and hair.”

“all that and your makeup is still on?” sana looks and sounds concerned. “was it that bad?”

“i was just tired, i still am.” you mumble, watching sana pout.

“my poor baby.” she brings your hand to her lips and kisses your knuckles softly.

as the last traces of makeup disappear, she pulls back just slightly, her hands then lingering on your cheeks, her thumb brushing over your jawline. there’s a moment of stillness, where everything feels suspended in the space between you.

sana’s been fond of your face since trainee days, there is never a time where she isn’t taken aback by the features she’s fallen in love with. your hair cascades down and sana feels one corner of her lip tugging harder when she spots the few strands poking out.

“how do you look so good without makeup…”

“stop that.” you fake annoyance in your tone. sana’s giving you doe eyes while rubbing her thumb against your cheek, making you smile. “can i sleep now?”

“oh my gosh.. it must’ve been brutal. you don’t even want to do your skincare?”

“baby… i’m so, so tired.”

“i’ll do the work for you, c’mon.”

without a second for you to respond, she leads your tired self over to the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet seat while she does your skincare for you. even when you try to argue, insisting you’re awake enough to function normally and do it yourself, sana slaps your hand away so she can massage your cheeks enthusiastically with your moisturizer after slapping her fingers dramatically against your skin with toner.

(she argues that the extra force helps it soak in.

you don’t believe her for a second.)

you let her poke at your cheeks, squishing them even if she’s just applying your night cream, and really you just let her have her way with your face before she smiles at you and beams, “done!”

“thank you sana.” you reciprocate her quick peck. “can we sleep now?”

“okay, let me shower my body first, ‘kay?”

“yeah yeah.” you stand up and take in the post-outing sana in her favorite tank top and linen pants — both gifted from you. “i’ll wait for you in bed.”

she kisses you once more, passionately, wrapping her arms around your neck and giggling after she pulls away before pushing you out and going on to do her business.

you roll your eyes and simultaneously smile to yourself before plopping onto your bed, belly first.

and only thirty minutes later , sana comes back to see your back facing the ceiling and head turned while you snore softly. you look like a corpse, she’s always found the way you sleep both concerning and cute.

sana shuffles into bed with you, kissing your cheek before shitifng you over so you can spoon her. after being with you for so long, she’s learned that even if you’re knocked unconscious, you’ll still move so that she’s in your arms or reach.

she sighs contentedly, yawning before kissing your knuckles again.

“adorable…” she mumbles. “love you sweetie.”

sana could be hallucinating, considering she’s nearly asleep, but she swears she hears a tired grumble which bears the same syllables as “i love you.”

[satoruhour]

a/n: boss moved a few days ago and i got so much inspiration just from one of the movers calling her 美女 WOW !

warnings: perv!geto, mover!geto, reader has a deadbeat husband boooo, gojo listens in i guess? sex in a TRUCK, cheating, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, p -> v penetration, unprotected sex, doggy, chokehold, creampie / breeding kink, panty stealing, n*sfw under the cut

thinking about…

mover!geto who gets notified on a job to some suburban neighbourhood to assist in a move, known for his fast team of workers and efficient way of packing. he’s surprised when he’s connected to a woman’s voice, greeting him cheerfully before setting up a meeting.

mover!geto who finds his eyes flicking down to get a look at your tits when he reaches your place, accentuated by the low cleavage of the sundress you’re donning in this heat. you’re also sneaking glances at the other, eyes travelling over his inked arms and tied hair but geto doesn’t notice because your voice is even more hypnotic in person, bringing him into the house to show the various furniture that’s about to be packed up. by now he already would’ve mapped out the best way to transport everything out, but the way your hips sway and your ass looks makes him giddy.

mover!geto who lies and says he needs a few more visits to your house to finalise everything, noting down how your husband treats you like crap, bosses you around and does nothing but laze around all day. and so he slips in little hints, your husband should get into guiness from how much he sits in front of the tv, and initiates small brushes of his fingers on yours, a hand on your back as he passes.

mover!geto who calls you with a pretty girl! when he needs to know which furniture to bring and which to dispose of, making your heart skip a beat — because how else would you react when there’s an attractive man in a bun with arms decorated with tattoos calls you? all the while his jumps from how quickly you answer, scampering over to him to nod with your bright eyes and big smile, no matter how shitty your husband was being. you truly didn’t know what you did to him, mind wandering to wanting to see your breasts bounce in his face while he flipped up your dress to fuck you.

mover!geto who orders another truck to be brought to your old home, getting confused looks from his workers when everything could already fit except for a few small things and he doesn’t tell them it’s already on the way with his best friend in the front seat. and of course your husband is ready to make his way to the new home immediately to continue doing nothing, leaving the both of you.

“you got everything?” geto asks, prompting you to look around at the barren house, a place once filled with love which turned sour and stagnant, but now is no place for those memories, nodding with a soft smile towards geto who only guides you out the front door.

“yep, think so. thanks again, geto-san!” the move only shoots you a small grin, and asks you to call him suguru instead, helping you to carry the smaller chairs and items for the last truck, noticeably smaller than the others. he stretches out a hand for you to ride at the back of the truck, almost collapsing from how soft your hands felt. if only he could feel them around his cock. his best friend, gojo, who’s also from the moving company shoots a salute in greeting, predicting what’s coming with a knowing look in his eyes as he slides the partition close.

mover!geto who has you on your back a few minutes after the truck takes off for the new house, you clutching onto the cling wrap for some stability while the long-haired mover laps at your clit, large, rough hands spreading your legs further and further while your moans echo throughout the large truck. you’re getting wet so easily as your body shakes from the sensitivity, feeling the other grin between your legs.

“feeling good, pretty girl?” you manage a whimper, knuckles turning white from how tightly you were balling your fists and he simply grabs them, keeping his eyes on you as he places them on his hair, already all unkempt.

“use me, baby,” geto groans lowly when you pull just slightly to see his face better, barely seeing the glint in his eyes and the shine of your arousal on his face in the dark truck, “use me like you fuckin’ mean it.”

all suguru can do is groan out when you push him down onto your pussy, continuing his abuse on your puffy clit while you grind your hips into his face, clearly unsatisfied with your husband. your mover’s tongue just feels so damn good on your neglected core that you can’t care about consequences right at this moment, gasping in surprise at the finger that draws circles around your hole. 

“cleaned it earlier, don’t worry that pretty lil head of yours, okay?” geto reassures as you nod, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks his thick finger in so easily. it pulses around its tip, feeling your thigh shake beneath his hand while it’s pushed right to its hilt. you’ve never reached this deep with your own, body already craving more when it moves against him. 

“oh, needy baby. bet your husband doesn’t do shit, hm?” you pout and shake your head, hand closing around his wrist to get him to move and he chuckles, barely warning you before he inserts a second finger slowly. the stretch feels so good and you whine with a tug to his hair that’s already falling apart, breathless moans leaving your mouth.

“he’s shit,” you have to calm yourself before you mumble, a hand goes through his hair, eyes fluttering close when geto starts to move his fingers, “shit at everything.” geto coos at that, head dripping back down and the combination of his tongue and his fingers make your eyes roll back, lips finally muttering out a suguru and geto moans into your perfect little pussy, loving the way you tense and clench around him.

mover!geto who gets a knock on the partition, fifteen minutes, gojo says and geto has you on your hands and knees quicker than you can blink, easing into your warm, dripping pussy with his hard cock. he sighs in relief when he’s finally in you, willing himself not to cum like a virgin just from being in your cunt.

“s— suguru… s’big…” you moan out, head hanging low as you feel the pain morph into pleasure and you’re moving your hips back onto his. geto still has to catch his breath for a minute, but the way you turn behind to look at him with teary eyes and downturned eyebrows and with a desperate plea, “show me how much you’ve been wanting me, suguru,” geto snaps his hips into yours, a loud groan leaving his lips at how wet your cunt is, essence dripping right from your core onto the truck.

“i’ll show you, pretty baby,” he starts a pace, waist bruised from how tight he holds them while he fucks into you. you’re just as tight and warm as he imagined, and pliant, too, cock twitching in you when he sees how obediently you take it. “show you how fucking much i’ve been meaning to bury my cock in you.”

“c’mon, spread your cheeks for me, mama,” geto whispers, a whimper leaving him when you do just that and he has a front row seat to your wet cunt sucking him in so well while he slams into you like an animal, not caring at the way your face brushes up against the harsh bottom of the truck, mouth going limp with multiple mewls filling the space.

“oh— fuck yes!! right there, right t—there suguruuu…” a hand goes to rub at your clit and the sensation sends you reeling, along with the musky smell of sex in the air and the pap! pap! pap! of geto’s hips against yours. you can hear just how wet you are from the way geto rams into you, pre-cum and your juices mixing and squelching each time his length disappears into you. he yanks you up, looping an arm around your neck and another ’round your waist, the arch of your back allowing the other to go deeper.

“cumming, s’guru, i’m gonna cum—” everything is hazy and blurred from how good geto sinks into you paired with the irregular bumps of the truck on the road, lightheaded already from the chokehold he has you in. the truck goes over a bump suddenly and the thick cock inside you hits a spot that has your eyes reaching the skies, a loud, choked moan leaving your lips before it gets swallowed up by geto’s, his hand turning your head to meet his.

“good fuckin’ girl,” geto says breathlessly into your mouth, “give me all your cum, darlin’.”  

your whole body is on fire, breaking off the kiss momentarily to whine out profanities until geto’s asking, delirious, “where do you want me to cum, baby?”

and your primal need to be bred takes over, crying out now with tears lining your face as your body still jerks from the mindblowing orgasm. “inside suguru— i-inside, please—!”

suguru just grunts out at your plea, body also reaching his limit before he stills and he reaches his high, shivering behind you as he spurts hot cum deep into your cunt, spilling and overloading until your pussy’s full of his seed. he feels fulfilled, hissing when your hole clenches around him one last time, removing his cock from you slowly.

“keep it in ya, yeah?” geto grins just as the truck begins to slow down and you’re scrambling to appear decent while there’s the hot flow of your mover’s cum dripping out of your pussy, stifling a smile when you see your undies tucked at the back at his pocket and an instruction that if you want it back, you’re gonna have to find me in the toilet and let me fuck you full of my cum again.

mover!geto who finally gets you wrapped around his finger just like he’ll get you wrapped around his cock many, many more times after this.

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup VI

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: It's heartbreaking

It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.

The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.

Eaten from the inside out.

Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.

To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.

Not now.

Not ever.

It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.

There's not much else to say about it.

The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.

The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.

The board goes up.

"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."

The final of a World Cup.

Sweden, two.

Spain, two.

And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.

"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."

You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.

Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.

The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.

Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.

You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.

You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.

You rise to the occasion every time.

You show why you are so sought after.

Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.

Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.

One ball in the back of the net.

You can delay that for as long as you need to.

One goal to win a match.

One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.

One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.

But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.

Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.

Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.

No penalty has ever escaped you.

The shots are taken in quick succession.

You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.

The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.

To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.

She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.

They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.

There is no reason for them to be worried.

Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.

She steps forward.

You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.

The conflict is clear on your face.

To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.

The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.

"I know," Talia replies.

"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."

"Don't be. Go do what you do best."

Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.

Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.

The stadium holds its breath.

A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.

But you stand in their way.

A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.

"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."

The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...

Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.

Your body crashes to the ground.

A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.

Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.

The knock to Spain's confidence is big.

It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.

Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.

Scored even quicker by your captain.

A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.

The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.

The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.

She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.

"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."

Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.

"Go," She says," And celebrate."

"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."

"Your mothers-"

"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."

You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.

It was so close.

She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.

Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.

But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.

Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.

You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.

There is no hope of competing against you.

A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.

Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.

But you don't go anywhere.

You just hold her as she cries.

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER

prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.

Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-

You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.

…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily

After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel

You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.

I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.

The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone 

BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭

“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.

You’re just a little gremlin :D

Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.

“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.

LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”

I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.

“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.

The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.

“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.

Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.

“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.

Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.

Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.

“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.

You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.

Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!

You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.

Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.

“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round

Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.

I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.

Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.

Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.

Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.

“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.

Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.

Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕

Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.

Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.

Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.

“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.

You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭

“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.

Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you. 

The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.

Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.

You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.

I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.

Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.

Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.

Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.

Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.

See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.

I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?