#anybody got blue balls

[dokyeomini]

abt to become a street performer fr

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[merakidoll]

a man anybody would love. mr.kento

a taste of sweet victory. but the victory is nanami kento’s cum; he was a man you had been chasing for months now, your boss you could say. you found him very charming, nice buff arms, sleek blond hair, and a pretty face to match. he was rich, born into wealth that he just chose to make bigger; and best of all a bachelor. you knew from previous ex’s and how the blogs put it that your were not nanami’s type, but what’s the harm in trying? while everyone played hard to get with the man who cared nothing about them, you went in, wrapping his around your long duck nails and pink mini skirts to the point of oblivion. what was the term? one fell first, the other fell harder- that was the case for you and mister nanami.

“come’on baby, you got it,” nanami loved making you do thing like this, and acted like he was unbothered; when really he couldn’t even worry about the work that sat on the oka desk. under him you sat like a pretty doll on your knees, his dick resting in your warm, wet hole that drool dripped from your mouth to his blue slacks. the vibrator he had in you buzzed loudly; the highest setting to be exact and it had your vision blurring- but not how nanami usually has it. the game he was playing was sick, who could last longer, and he knew that you were not one to like orgasm daniel; especially in the hands of your own! but that pretty new Chanel bag and a trip to greece was calling your name so you had to pull through.

taking a deep breath you watched his movements, his behavior had your heart stinging because right now he would usually be begging you to take him deeper. but instead, mindless skimmed the paperwork that you knew was nothing like the view below him. slowing slithering your tounge on him, you pulled him out of your mouth landing a glob of saliva on his head, making him hiss. you got his attention by that, the paper’s getting slammed down on the desk and his hands gripping your head making you take him fully.

oh sweet, sweet victory.

his jaw was clenched as his fucked his seven inch cock deep in your throat. he enjoyed your gags, and the salty water that dripped from your doe eyes. he ignored the redness in your face, from you taking way too much- but you loved every second. “cock slut huh?” his words were like venom, but this venom felt good and made your pussy leak all over the toy. your clit pulsed, cream getting on the brown floor orgasm so close, but! you couldn’t let him get this one, withholding your gag and taking him deeper.

“awee fuck!” nanami’s head fell back into the chair, his balls hitting your chin while his cock let out the ropes curing a thirst that you didn’t know needed to be fulfilled. with the small taste of his body nectar, you let go. squirting all over the ground with a hard splash, and moving him out of your mouth with a victory smile. his shiny dick fell onto his white button up making quite a mess, but all you could think about is your new gadgets, plus some!

[keerysfreckles]

time after time — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve being a goofball, STEVE FLUFF!!!!!!

a/n: thanks cindy lauper for writing time after time and for my pookie wifey @keerysbrowneyes <3

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

steve harrington had a very interesting fall of 1984. he never thought he'd fight off inter-dimentional monsters again, and especially didn't see himself becoming friends with five middle schoolers.

so he wasn't too surprised while driving dustin henderson to his eight grade winter formal.

"you're gonna go in there," steve starts a pep-talk, "looking like a million bucks."

dustin nods in agreement, before flipping the passenger side visor down, examining his hair once more.

steve grunts while flipping the visor back up. he continues his pep-talk quickly, and makes sure to remind dustin to keep the lion purr out of tonight's vocabulary.

just as steve was about to pull out of the school's parking lot, a figure caught his eye. y/n l/n's figure to be exact. her light purple dress with slightly ruffle sleeves made steve's heart swoon. of course she was wearing her very worn out chuck taylor's to chaperone the dance. steve couldn't remember the last time he saw the girl wearing heels.

he watched for another moment as y/n handed two drinks to two younger girls. steve smiled when y/n did, and he knew he had to do something about it.

the whole time as he was parking his car and walking towards the gym entrance, he made a pro and con list of the decision.

pros; y/n might actually want to see him after he ignored her for a whole week, maybe he'll get to kiss her, and he just wanted to see how pretty she looked up close.

cons; she'd punch him in the face (again), she might not be ready to be face-to-face with the brunette, or she'll simply laugh once steve walks in the double doors.

what could go wrong? he thought, just as he opened the door and walked by mr. clarke.

an upbeat song was playing over the speakers while steve walked under the blue and white arched balloons. to his left, jonathan was taking pictures. in the middle were all the students, either milling around the sides, or dancing in more crowded area. and to his right, was y/n standing at the punch table.

steve felt his heart skip a beat before his feet drug him over to the poorly decorated refreshment table.

he looked over y/n's appearance once again before he was fully in front of her. her purple dress stopped just above her knees, and her hair was pulled back out of her face with a few pieces framing her soft features.

"steve!" y/n smiles once he walks up to the table, "where have you been? i haven't heard from you in a couple of days."

steve chuckles while hiding the truth, "yeah, it's just been pretty busy with senior year."

y/n nods in agreement before steve speaks again.

"how's the drink table going? anybody try and spike the punch yet?"

y/n lets out a laugh, "it's going, and i haven't seen anyone with a hidden flask yet."

a moment of comfortable silence passes before a slower song blares over the speakers and into the gym. most students grab a partner and start slowing swaying back and forth. a lightblub appeared above steve's brown hair.

"do you want to dance?"

the question immediately caught y/n off gaurd. the steve harrington, the boy who she has liked since third grade was asking if she wanted to dance with him.

"i- uh- what about the drink station?" y/n's face grows hot as she stammers out an answer.

"nancy's got it," steve gestures his head behind y/n, making her turn to see nancy walking up behind her.

"go have fun," nancy talks softly after patting y/n away from the table and towards steve.

she lets out another laugh as steve simply holds out his hand. she gladly takes it, and her heart skips at the feeling of his skin on hers. his warm hand encasing her cold one.

steve leads y/n out to the crowd of seventh and eighth graders. she can't help but laugh at how out of place she seems in the middle school gymnasium, but she couldn't care. because she was with steve harrington.

"cmon don't go all stiff on me l/n," steve teases after putting his hands on her waist. the girl's face only grows a darker shade of red while placing her hands on his firm, broad shoulders.

at the same time, the pair subtly look over each other. steve looks over y/n's simple makeup, just blush and mascara. he didn't know how she looked even more beautiful than before. y/n chuckled slightly at his attire, consisting of a red longsleeve, jeans, and of course his red nike's.

"i'm sorry i haven't reached out this past week," steve admits.

y/n shakes her head, while the two were now slowing swaying in circles as the song continued.

"it's okay steve, really. i get it, senior year has been stressful for everyone."

steve wishes he could tell y/n the truth. but he doubts she'd believe him if he said he fought of monsters the past two years, got his ass beat by billy hargrove, and became close to dustin henderson.

steve and y/n both got lost in each other's eyes. she could look into his chocolate brown eyes for hours on end and not get bored. her eyes drifted to his other features. the small creases around his eyebrows while he seemed focused on something, she wanted to run her fingers over the skin to smooth it out. the freckles on his cheeks and moving down his neck, she needed to kiss every single one. the slight smirk he always had adorning his lips, she wished she could just kiss the smirk off his face.

y/n got lost in her daydreaming, she could've sworn steve was leaning closer to her than before.

she didn't want to believe it, but she was leaning in closer as well.

"steve," y/n's voice is quiet, she fears no sound even came out of her mouth.

steve's lips were now centimeters away from y/n's. their foreheads were almost touching, and the thought of steve kissing her only made her dizzy.

however, she knew steve would catch her, feeling as his grip hardened on her waist. he leaned even closer, touching his lips to hers.

his lips were softer than y/n ever imagined. her hands move to the back of his neck, running her fingertips over the soft curls while her thumbs were on his cheeks. steve's hands held y/n so tightly, even if she did fall, she wouldn't have noticed. he held her close, deepening the kiss slightly before pulling away.

both of their lips were a darker shade now, and both teens were slightly out of breath.

to try and seem cool about the whole ordeal, y/n leans forward to place her head on steve's chest. she could hear his heartbeat, as it seemed to pick up slightly at her action.

steve smiled to himself. he actually kissed her. y/n l/n, the girl he's adored since the fifth grade formal actually kissed him back.

steve kissed the top of y/n's head, and internally thanked his younger self for the growth spurt, now making him at least seven inches taller than the girl in his arms.

the song was coming to a close, but steve didn't want this moment to end.

"do you want to get milkshakes?"

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

[daintyys]

Can I request a jealous Coriolanus snow fic pls?

jealousy, jealousy

MDNI - fem!reader x coriolanus snow, 1k words, angst, jealousy, cursing, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, intentional lowercase, i wrote this a hot minute ago just didn't get the chance to fully edit it until now hehe

coriolanus was making his way in the world. he had just been elected president of panem, and it seemed like everything was finally falling into place for him. that is, the fact he was infatuated with you, and had no clue how to go about telling you. coriolanus and you had gone to university together, becoming close over the years, and he assumed you just wanted to stay friends.

for weeks after coryo's election, all he seemed to be doing was hosting galas and spending hours in meetings. boring. the only thing that made him look forward to doing anything was knowing that you would be there. you were his personal assistant. whilst attending university with coriolanus, you made a deal with him: if he ever got elected president, you would be his right-hand woman. and here you were.

on a particularly busy day, coriolanus had not 1, but 4 meetings in a row, and then after that, a night long ball to celebrate the new year. he was not excited for all of it. sure, he had power, but he hardly got any sleep.

the meetings drew on for what seemed like ages, with coryo sealing his approval on bills he had no care for and huffing agreements with his government workers. what finally woke him up was a knock on his office door.

"come in." he groaned, smoothing his hair back. you opened the door slowly, a tray of coffee and cookies in your hands. "i heard you were having a long day, and thought some caffeine would prepare you for tonight." you hummed, placing the tray at the end of his desk. coriolanus' mood changed immediately, his frown turning to a grin. you knew him all too well. "that sounds about right, y/n." coryo approved as he sipped his coffee.

you leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "if you're overworking yourself, you know you can just say no, right? after all, you are the president." coriolanus leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "i'll be fine. thank you for your concern, though." you nodded, heading for the door. "y/n, wait. you're coming to the ball tonight, correct?" the president choked out, looking at you intently. "i will if you want me to, coriolanus. just save me a dance, hm?" you giggled, leaving his office and shutting the door behind you. coryo scoffed, a huge smile plastered on his face, rubbing his temple.

coriolanus could hardly hide his smile as he saw you enter the ballroom. you looked beautiful, your hair in a french twist, and wearing a gorgeous navy-blue gown. you didn't go straight over to him, which was surprising. instead, you made your way to one of coryo's advisors, a man a few years older than you were. he watched as the man kissed your knuckles and reached out to touch your earrings, seemingly complimenting them. fuck.

coriolanus was enraged, his stomach churning violently at the sight of you and another man. you were his. you had always been his. he could go over there and just beat up the man, but that wouldn't look good in the press. you took the advisor's arm, and he lead you over to the bar, handing you a glass of champagne. coryo noticed how happy you looked with the man, how you laughed with him, and it made him positively sick.

it had never occurred to coriolanus that you could have feelings for somebody. not that you were an unloving robot, but coryo had just never heard about you dating anybody. you'd never told him, at least. maybe the man was a just family friend or something, but coryo couldn't seem to get the thought of you all giddy and tipsy with one of his employees out of his head.

coryo soon found himself tossing back glasses of champagne, trying to ease the pain and stop himself from going over to the man and snapping his neck. "fucking bastard." coriolanus chided, handing his glass to a confused waiter. his eyes bore into you, you were standing against the wall with the advisor, deep in conversation. you had promised coriolanus a dance, so what the hell were you doing?

-----

the party was drawing to a close, finally. and even though it was close to 2 in the morning, coriolanus was wide awake. he couldn't stand not being able to watch you leave, let alone not being able to watch you at all. especially not with the man. how controversial would it be for the president of panem to punch the smug smile off of one of his advisor's faces?

he'd finally had enough. his heart was aching, and it had been hours. you hadn't even looked at him. your president. how shameful. coriolanus strided over to you, grasping your wrist lightly. you jumped.

"coriolanus?" you turned towards him, flushed cheeks. his blue eyes bore into yours, narrow and concentrated on your expression. "a word, ms. y/l/n?" you nodded, and coryo lead you into the hallway. you couldn't help but giggle, the alcohol was getting to you. "don't laugh. i'm not fucking laughing." coriolanus fumed, spinning around and planting either of his hands on your shoulders.

you shuddered, he was freezing. "what's going on?" you slurred. "i think you know what's going on, y/n." coriolanus huffed, flush creeping up his neck. "enlighten me, mr. president." you tittered. coriolanus released your shoulders from his grip, and smoothed his suit jacket. "what's the story between you and that man in there?" he questioned, crossing his arms.

you paused. you knew what he was getting at. "you're not jealous, are you, coryo?" a smile toyed at your lips. coriolanus scowled, a look of irritation coming over him. "i-i'm. good god, who was it, y/n?" he loosened his tie, absolutely furious. "my cousin, if you're so interested." you leaned against the wall, smirking.

coriolanus groaned. "unbelievable. i thought you were going out with him. i would have fired him, y/n..." he trailed off, rubbing his temple. "you were jealous." a laugh escaped your lips, and you reached out to touch coryo's arm. "quiet." he whispered, holding his arm out for you to link with.

"yes, mr. president." you took his arm, walking down the hall together. you still had a dance to fulfill, after all.

asks 🩷

[toxycodone]

Okay, I'm gonna continue being horny about this man. Since he enjoys your reactions to the things he does, Kabru would do stuff that get you get going and stop halfway to hear you whine and sees you with the most absolute fucking sweet charming smile and it drives you insane. He goes down on you and you are close? Time to stop and he just stares with those bright blue eyes while you suffer because you were so close to finishing on his face but he just fucking smiles at you and you know he's doing it on purpose because he's having a lot of fun seeing you like that. Has two fingers inside you and touching the right places you are already seeing stars while his other hand roams your body and you both are kissing, you may think oh he's definitely going to let me cum this time, fucking wrong he can see how much you are enjoying it, but wouldn't it be more fun if he were to stop right at this point? Fucker.

So by the time he's balls deep in you you are completely overwhelmed, overstimulated and seriously sensitive and every single small touch is enough to have you moaning and whining, like hello is anybody in that beautiful brain he enjoys trying to dissect? No? No there's nobody cause he has broken you by taking so much time working you up your mind is completely quiet with the only thought in it being him and wanting him to make you cum.

Personally? I would love to think of that as a fun time and I think that's exactly why he also loves it too.

okay you have said something very beautiful to feed all the kabru thirst people. and u kinda struck a chord in me because...you got me thinking.

If you're dating Kabru, you're most definitely his favorite plaything. Like yes, he loves people and playing with them like dolls (in a usual innocent sense, he gives me huge anthropologist vibes).

But like. You're the only person who is like, fully consenting to his mindgames. He's not going to completely fuck with you because he loves you, he knows not to go too far (I like. think he tries hard to not be like elves.) But...

He enjoys pushing your limits. Seeing how far you could go. In an instance like this, he'd LOVE to see your reactions? Will you plead? Scream? Cry?

He wipes a tear from your cheek when you're so desperate to cum or so eternally frustrated from his lack of finishing you off. He licks the salty flavor off and just laughs at you. Well, it's not really at you. It's at the predicament you're in. You're totally at his will. And he loves it.

And when he does finish you off its like, not even really satisfying because he does it super quick and makes sure he doesn't cum. SO when you're coming down from your high he just starts this shit all over again. Kabru's pumping in and out of you--slowly but surely--breathing his pretty little moans in your ear and tenderly kissing your neck.

And you have to sit there and take it because its KABRU. You can't deny a man that pretty his orgasm or not want to be close to him. <3

[henneseyhoe]

P POWER.

Killmonger X BLACK!FEM!reader.

WARNINGS:SMUT, daddy kink, sugar baby AU, No protection(wrap it df up), kinda short

SUMMARY:Erik finds himself absolutely infatuated with a woman he meets on a business trip. He would spend his free time buying her anything she laid her pretty little sight upon.

-

I would be completely wrong if I said this woman didn’t have me completely pussy whipped. I mean look at me.

I was going on constant shopping sprees with the Vixen I had met on a recent business trip I took to Barbados, the woman catching my attention just with one sway of her hips that night. she was that powerful.

I was seated in the back of my Rolls-Royce, looking up at the woman that was bouncing in my lap, her dress rolled up to her hips and the top of it trapped under her titties. She rode me like a champ, her hands gripping my broad shoulders and her feet planted on the leather seats of the truck, her diamond riddled Dior heels digging into the creases of the material.

“Ride that dick, princess. Make daddy nut all in that good pussy!”

I instructed her, holding onto her ankles to keep her stable as she bounced faster on me, her cream staining my navy blue slacks, considering I hadn’t even pulled them down all the way yet before she had started sucking the soul out of me through my dick.

“Cum for me, daddy!”

Her voice was smooth like butter, her words sliding right off of her tongue in a dark like seductive manner, yet the sound of it was so sweet to me. Like candy. She had a way about her that was so enticing and intriguing. I never felt so interested in a woman, so much that it almost felt wrong. as if I wasn’t allowed to want her this much, this bad.

At this point, I didn’t care how loud we got or who heard us from outside of the tinted windows and bulletproof doors.

We had been parked in the far corner of a 5star restaurants parking lot for about an hour now, apart from the time we took dining.

If anybody walked by close enough, if they didn’t hear us, they damn sure saw the bouncing of the truck, the tires pushing up and down, back and forth with every movement we made. Or should I say she made.

“Shit, baby”

I mumbled. I felt my abs tighten, looking down at my opened shirt and blazer, a thin layer of sweat coating my brown skin.

“Tell me when, daddy”

She swirled her hips and cupped her breast with one hand before starting to tweak her hard nipple, a moan erupting from her mouth as she threw her head back. The sight made my dick twitch inside of her three times in total, indicating that I was near my end.

“Fuck!”

She quickly pulled me out of her and maneuvered herself down to her knees, her hands wrapping around my dick. She stroked me fast, her tongue being stuck out and pressed against my tip, the woman looking up at me simultaneously as her brown eyes twinkled in the soft lighting from the starlight roof.

“Cum on my face, daddy. Gimme that nut”

And with just those words, I began to shoot ropes of cum on her face, the white ribbons covering her lips and cheeks, some getting in her freshly pressed, hot pink colored hair. My hips bucked and she attached her lips to the tip of my dick, sucking and licking up any of the remanding cum I had on me.

Her tongue flipped on the underside of my shaft, her head bobbing up and down as she went down further with every bob until her nose touched my pelvis, my tip reaching the back of her throat.

Exhibit A as to why she could have whatever she wanted from me.

My eyes rolled back and my hips bucked up once again, the girl choking and pulling up off of me, a string of spit connecting from her mouth to my dick. She continued to stroke me with her hand, using her own cum and spit as lube before she began to suck my balls, popping them in and out of her mouth.

I gripped the back of my seat and let out an animalistic grunt, having no choice but to push the woman off of me in a fast motion, the overstimulation beginning to get almost impossible to bear. She fell back against the front seat, a devious smirk on her face as she licked her lips.

My chest rose and fell slowly, my mind trying to gather the last pieces of me so I could form a proper sentence.

She wiped the rest of me off of her face with a baby wipe she had pulled out of her purse and fixed her dress properly before sitting next to me, leaning over and kissing my lips, speaking right after.

“So…you’ll get me that new bag I want, daddy? The crocodile Birkin. Pretty please?” She smiled at me, batting her long lashes. I turned my head and looked at her, nodding with a satisfied smile.

That pussy had POWER.

[friezaglasiencold]

I know this might be out of the blue (and this somehow turned into a ask Algid blog ) but this is a question for Yamcha

What do YOU like about Frieza or what draw you towards him

(Since ya know he’s a villain)

Hey, it's me. Told Frieza to look away until I post this, haha. He gave me the computer and just said 'go nuts,' so that's a good sign? I'll put it under a cut, cause I'm probably gonna go long, and there's a good chance I'll get a little sentimental. I know he's not into that stuff, so I don't wanna clog up his blog with it.

I haven't gotten the chance to talk about this, really, since the guys don't approve of us 'being together' and all--for obvious reasons--so, I guess first I gotta thank you for asking! It means a lot that you'd think about that, or be worried about that, or whatever. Because, yeah, he is a villain, and it's a pretty big deal.

I know he's a really bad person, basically as bad as it gets (he's kind of like if you put a bunch of real estate scumbags in a blender and then poured the result into a really sexy cup, and then that sexy cup had anger issues??), but there's a lot there that I think maybe nobody's ever seen before, or cared to look for, or maybe he's just never wanted to show to anybody...

For one, I just think he's really cute! Like, not even in a sex way. He's just cute. He does this thing with his face when he's thinking really hard where he'll scrunch up his nose and totally zone out. I don't think he notices it, but he does a lot of stuff with his tail, too. It's pretty easy to tell how he's feeling once you get used to reading him, and if he's in a good mood it, like, wiggles? Not wagging, not like a dog or anything, but almost like one of those wacky inflatable tube dudes. And I know this isn't really a "good" thing, but when he's frustrated with something, he stews about it, and crosses his arms and stomps around for a while, and he'll go on these little tirades about stuff that doesn't matter, and it's adorable how into it he gets. He's pretty easy to tease.

And he's really smart. Genuinely totally on the ball. Not the kind of guy you'd come to to vent or something, but if you give him a problem he'll hand you a solution in, like, ten seconds.

I'm always discovering new things about him, too, like these skills or hobbies he has that he doesn't even think are worth mentioning... he's killer at the violin, and he's a really good singer, and he likes to do all these little creative projects when people aren't looking. I think whatever he sets his mind to he just does, and I like that in a person. It's part of why I got with Bulma all those years back--she was really headstrong, just like he is. I'm into the type who knows what they want and who they are and stays honest about that.

Frieza's a lot less dramatic about it than she was, though. He'll do something, and he won't like, get all up in your face and start wagging a finger about it. He just does it, and then tells you it's done if you notice, because he's pretty used to being solitary, so he's not a needy kind of guy. As long as you give him what he wants, you're basically golden.

He's really up front about it, too. Who he is, I mean. He's never pulled any punches with me, or lied, or given me the runaround. He sat me down and said look, Yamcha, this is what my deal is, and this is what I'm looking for, and if you're interested we can make arrangements. I like that I know what I'm getting into, y'know? Like, yeah, it's a little disappointing that he's not into the idea of marriage, but we haven't been dating long, and there's always time down the line if we wind up staying together. What I'm really surprised about, though, is that even if we didn't, I think I'd still wanna be friends? Which isn't the kind of thing you'd normally think about with Frieza. I know Vegeta would flip his lid if he heard me say that.

There's a ton more I could talk about, but I don't want to wind up writing a novel, so I'll just end it on this:

He's a bad person, yeah, and there's stuff I've gotta talk with him about if we wind up making this a permanent thing, but a lot of my friends started out as bad people, including me. I can say for a fact, though, that he's got a heart in there somewhere, even if nobody else thinks that's true. I've seen these little glimpses of it, and it makes me really happy, and I wanna keep seeing it. That make sense?

I hope so.

[short-black-diamond]

"Yo, she's a pro."

part two, parth three, part four, part five

This is another request a close friend of mine had. She wanted me to write something along the lines of a Reo x fem! reader, but we came to another conclusion:

Just--various bllk characters playing against you, their precious guest player, and then losing pathetically, rethinking their life choices for the time being.

your name: Yena Hideyo, and you have a blue snake called Melody <3

Warnings: Cursing, Rin begs on his knees, Nagi calls you beautiful, Kaiser gets shot, Ness gets kicked between his legs by you, some grammar errors probably, spoilers, some german sentences

Also I didn't proofread.

---

Ego announced to the bluelock players that you, Yena Hideyo, would be attending as a guest player and play against his strikers. You are famous for being the world's first female protégé in Japanese soccer, and since you were the best player in your team, you got asked to visit Blue Lock. And now, you were here, a bored expression on your face.

"She doesn't look like she's enjoying her stay here...", Bachira mumbled as he and Isagi looked at you. "I don't think I've actually ever seen her before...", the dark haired boy answered.

Barou only hmpf-ed and sneered at you. "You midget should be a protégé? I'd like to see you score at least one goal."

You frowned. Shidou waltzed towards you, a wide grin etched on his face. "I've seen you play. Would you like to play with, or against me?"

You looked at him with a blank but bored face, then you looked at the screen, where Ego showed who would be on which team. As Ego explained your stay, Isagi and Bachira looked at Shidou with question marks.

Oliver spoke as well. "Hah? Of course she'll play in my team."

Shidou had tick marks forming on his temple as he asked Oliver to repeat himself.

Ego ennounced that you were teamed up with Isagi, Kurona, Hiori, Barou, Gagamaru, Nanase, and Reo.

The other team had Chigiri, Shidou, Oliver, Aryu, Tokimitsu, Otoya, Karasu and Nagi.

Ego then cleared his throat. "All the other players, please sit down on the benches...Yena, plase let the others have a ball as well." "Don't wanna. That Barou guy's mouth's too big."

"Hah?!", the tall guy asked angrily and you glared at him.

With a shrill whistle, the game started. Well, you started it, actually. Before anybody could react ot the ball, you already dashed ahead, dribbling past Shidou, Otoya, and Nagi. Shidou grinned. "Not bad, little girl-", Otoya froze in place, and while Nagi tried for a nutmeg, you jumped and took the ball with you, even speeding up more. Then, Chigiri came.

"Hey girl, you think you-", but he couldn't keep up as you sped up again. He tried to go faster as well, but he couldn't. Then, there were Tokimitsu, Aryu and Oliver, the defenders, who tried to press, as in standing in your way. But, you just shot the ball and with an unpredictable gyro-shot, and the ball landed in the goal.

Isagi stood there in place. This game...took barely two minutes!? He stared at your approaching form. Ego frowned at you. "Didn't I tell you-"

"Listen, Ego Jinpachi. I'm not here to listen to you. I'm not a blue locker. Tell your little strikers or egoists or however you call them to try and put their heads in the game."

And before Ego could say something in return, the whistle blew again. This time, the opposing team changed their formation, and Barou approached you as well, screaming, "Like hell I'm gonna lose to a little girl!"

But also this time, you just slid past them all, completely using up all their strengths against them. As you were up against Tokimitsu who pressed against you, you grunted.

"S-sorry, b-b-ut I can't let you-"

"Outta - my- WAY!", you yelled as you pushed yourself against him harshly, making him stumble to the side.

Then, Aryu came. "You are totally glam, but-" "Gosh, would you guys stop talking already?!", you exclaimed, rounding him. Then, your last opponent was Oliver, who smirked at you.

"Never thought I'd end up with playing against a hot piece like you-", but he couldn't keep going as you just nutmegged him, and scored a goal as well. The goalkeeper couldn't see your physique behind Oliver, which is why you just had to shoot between his legs.

"The easiest goal I just made.", you stated. Oliver stared at his feet, then to the goal.

Ego seemed to loose his temper, as he glared at his players. "How can none of you guys take the ball from Hideyo!? C'mon you lumps, score a goal!"

With the whistle of the last game, everyone just ran towards you, and you were surprised by their lack of discipline. You swayed your leg before shredding the ball to the goal from where you stood. Since the defenders also were in the middle field, the ball flew wonderfully with no stopping. Also this time, you scored.

"This is so lame.", you said, walking out of the prototype-like stadion. After you stepped out, Barou roared. "WHY THE HELL IS THAT CHICK BETTER THAN ME?!"

Isagi tried to look at it from a more logical perspective, Niko and Hiori thinking about how effortlessly you moved and ran. Chigiri felt his ego deflating when he thought back on how you didn't even break a sweat as you just kept speeding up.

Karasu, Otoya and Oliver discussed on how hot you were looking, Tokimitsu held his shoulder you rammed yourself into while wincing in pain, while Aryu hypothesised how beautiful your pony looked, and overall how perfect your face was formed.

Bachira kept dribbling with the ball, but tried to do it how you did. Gagamaru sat by the goal, thinking back on how you effortlessly shot the last ball without even taking a halfstep, just swinging back your leg and shredding it to the goal.

Shidou laughed. "Damn, she's good!"

And just then, Ego's angry face turned up on the screen. "Why must you guys fail me? Weren't you down enough after playing against the top five?"

"Ego, how come Rin's not here?"

"Because he is playing against her right now. And now back to what-"

"Can we see?!", Isagi, Karasu, and some other guys yelled, wanting to know if Rin even managed to get the ball.

"No. That is your punishment on not even being able to take the ball from her."

"jeez, but she's a pro, what shoulda we've done?", Nanase asked as he fixed his heaband. Hiori stood next to him, still deep in thought.

"You could've at least tried to run like Chigiri did."

"Hey, what should we do when he's the fastest?!", Barou yelled, kicking the grass.

Ego didn't answer him. Instead, he showed them pictures of you. "Yena is not only a football protégé, she's also a model, sings some songs occasionally, has already published a few books, and her family is in a close alliance with Reo's parents.", and everyone looked at Reo, who still stared at the door you went out of.

He thought back to high school, where you introduced yourself with a bored expression- no, a resting bitch face, and he thought that you were just another mean girl. But boy was he wrong. You were actually the coolest girl he's ever met.

Too bad you had to leave again on your parents' wish. He should've asked you out when he had the chance.

Nagi had a rather sad look as he glanced at Reo who still stared at the door you retreated from. To Nagi, you also became something like a friend, and it hurt a little when you had to leave again.

But now, as you were here again, maybe they could hang out with you again!

...

"Stop fucking looking at me like that.", Rin panted, as he took another huge gulp from his third water bottle.

You sighed as you took out your first. "Why are you making me run around when you can't even take the ball from me?"

"That's none of your fucking business."

"Guess I'll leave then, bitch.", you retorted as you were about to take your bag. Rin quickly stood before you, something like desperation evident in his eyes. "What, you think that just because you're standing before me you can make me stay?"

"It's worth a try."

"It's also worth kicking your balls.", cue him taking a step back as he looked at you bewildered. But you just deadpanned at him.

"You think that because my stats are almost better than your older brother's that I'm going to be your personal training buddy?", you asked, finally drinking from your bottle.

Rin flinched. 'How did you-'

"C'mon, you think I'm that stupid? And no, I'm not going to be your personal training buddy."

"...would you train with me if I asked you nicely?"

"Demonstrate."

"Please train with me."

"Sounds like a demand. No."

"Then how do you want me to fucking say it...?!"

"First off, watch your fucking language around me. Second, beg on your knees of you want me to train with you, loser.", you said, watching as he glared at you.

But, your breath hitched when he actually slowly got down on his knees. "Please...p-please train with me, Yena...!", he growled.

You patted his head. "See? Wasn't that hard. Next time you want me to train with you, I want to hear a little more desperation, alright? But for today, it's enough."

He quickly stood up and went towards the ball he abandoned earlier. "Let's train."

You and Rin had been friends before Sae left, and well, you three just...grew apart. Your father took you to Europe for a better job, ultimately destroying your friendship with Reo, Nagi, Rin and Sae.

But hey, at least you were here as a protégé. And, as much as you hate the way Rin became now, you felt pity and you were also happy to play football with him again.

If only you could make him smile at least one last time before leaving again...

...

"Whoah, you have a snake?! And it's blue!", Bachira asked excitedly as he watched a blue snake sling itself around you. You smiled softly at the boy.

"Her name's Melody. Isn't she cute? If you want to, you can pet her.", cue him reaching a hand out and stroking the snake. "Say, Yena, how come you're so good at football? Did you train all your life? Didn't you come from Europe? What's it like there? Were you in Spain?"

You chuckled softly. "Jeez, don't ask so many questions, boy. No, I was not in spain. I was in Austria the whole time. My dad had work there, which is why we had to go from Japan to Austria. It actually...feels nice being here again.", and you looked at Melody fondly.

Bachira hummed in agreement. "But would you like to go to Spain sometime?"

"Is it because of Lavinho?" "How did you know?!"

You gave him a look to which the boy with bangs giggled shyly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, I'd also ask about somebody who has similar abilities as me on the field. But please keep in mind that I never met him. And Ego wants you guys to seriously choose the clubs? You'd take spain, right?"

"Yup! Hey, maybe you could join us!", The boy exclaimed excitedly as Melody engulfed him in a warm hug.

You leaned back in your seat. "Can't. Ego said I should just go to Noel Noa's bastard München. I actually wanted to go to Lavinho, or Snuffy, but oh well."

"Hm, bummer. I actually wanted you to teach me how to dribble how you did!"

You cooed internally in your head upon Bachira's excited face and his sweet request. "Maybe when we play against each other?"

"Ooohhh, yes, that would be nice!!"

"Hey, Bachira? Are you here- Whoah!", Isagi yelled as he stumbled upon you and Bachira sitting in a room with Melody on Bachira. "Y-you have a snake on you, Bachira."

"I know. You wanna pet- Ah, can Isagi pet her?", and Bachira turned to you with his sweet big and round eyes. You nodded.

"Ah, no thanks..Say, how old are you actually, Yena?", Isagi asked and sat down next to you and Meguru.

"I'm eightteen."

"But you're so short!"

"And you suck at football!"

There was a short silence of you and Isagi looking at each other. "Don't look at your elders like that. You started it, by the way.", you grumbled, and Isagi apologized, his good manners getting the best out of him.

"Wait, how do you know that I'm younger than you?"

"I got a file from Ego about every single player in this facility. Thanks to my great memory, I know your basic information. Also, which club will you choose, Isagi? Also Bastard München?"

"Yeah, I wanted to play with and against Noel Noa ever since I can remember."

"Neat. Then I guess we'll be teammates again. But maybe I'll let you have the ball a few times.", and Isagi nodded. Bachira pouted.

"Does that mean I won't get to cuddle Melody anymore?"

"I could ask Ego for permission us to meet, but with the way I heard him yelling at you guys through the hallways when training with Rin... ...uh, I don't know if that'll be possible."

The three of you looked deep in thought. You thought about what could make Rin laugh, Bachira thought about Melody's cool blue skin, and Isagi thought about how Rin and you might've been playing. "Say, Yena, how was it with Rin?"

"He's an idiot. En eccentric and stubborn boy at heart.", you declared, which made Isagi and Bachira chuckle. And just then, Reo and Nagi stepped in.

Reo felt like crying. "Yena...!", he whimpered before he threw himself at you, to which you yelled in fear, and he crashed into you. "How could you leave us?! Me and Nagi didn't have another training partner in so loooonnnggg!"

"Get off me, you crybaby!", you grunted as you tried to push him from you, but the purple haired rich guy didn't budge. If anything, he pulled you closer. Nagi did a T-pose and let gravity take him to you two to the ground.

"Fuck off, Nagi!", you yelled. After a few more seconds of you struggling against their grip, you gave up. "You guys being heavier and stronger than me is not fair. Now get up so I can breathe!"

And solemnly, Reo and Nagi latched off of you. "Which team will you guys be in?", you asked after Reo calmed down. Nagi answered this time. "We are going to Italy."

You nodded. "I can kind of see that. And in all honesty...*sigh*...I...missed you guys too."

This time, it was Nagi who lunged himself at you, and Reo began crying again. Bachira and Isagi laughed at you who got suffocated by Nagi.

"So this is your snake, Melody, right?", Reo asked as he reached out his hand. Melody slithered from Bachira to Isagi, who finally petted her.

Nagi sat up and looked at the snake. "She kind of impersonates you, Yena."

You raised an eyebrow. "Sneaky, dangerous and fast?"

"No, beautiful."

Reo glared at Nagi. Nagi looked at the snake with rosy cheeks, Bachira made an 'ooooohhhh~' sound, and Isagi looked at Nagi surprised.

"...Ew.", was all you said, making Nagi frown at you. "It...was a compliment?"

"And I didn't like it."

...

"Verpiss dich, du Arschkriecher!", you yelled angrily as Ness tried taking the ball from you. You and Isagi teamed up to score a goal, and it was going rather smoothly if not for the fact that you always had to wait or run back because he was too slow.

"Lass mich doch einfach den Ball nehmen-"

"Damit du ihn an Kaiser spielen kannst?! Schieß mal ein eigenes Tor!"

Now, Ness was hot on your heel, but you wanted Isagi to score the second goal. And just then, Kunigami came into your vision, seemingly wanting the ball as well. then you developed a plan. You kept dribbling until Kunigami came, and as Ness lunged forward, you swerved to the side with the ball in the last moment, making Ness and Kunigami crash into each other.

"Now!", you yelled as you shot the ball. Unfortunately, Kaiser was thinking that you'd shoot the ball towards Isagi's feet, but you actually wanted Isagi to score a head-goal. Welp, and Kaiser also jumped a little higher than Isagi, that's why...the ball clashed against his face. Kaiser has fallen unconscious. Ness panicked while you laughed your ass off by looking at Kaiser who was laying with his face down and ass in the air.

Isagi chuckled. "Next time, score a damn goal, Isagi."

"Y-yeah. But...what did you say to Ness? I don't like how they took out earpieces before we could play against the other team."

You huffed with an amused grin. "I called Ness an asscrawler, and told him to score a goal himself for once."

And only after the failed goal did drones come with earpieces. As Isagi put his on, with you studying what stood in the box which contained the ear pods, Noel Noa came, looking at you angrily. "Why are you laughing, Yena? That's not funny. You might've seriously hurt him."

"Kaiser shouldn't think that the balls we shoot would always be promised to him. Also, I'd like to see Ness playing without Kaiser. I want to see Ness scoring a goal for a change."

Noa sighed and let you "converse" with Ness, who was yelling at you angrily. "What the hell is your problem?! Why did you shoot him in the-", but he didn't continue as he was busy holding his groin where you kicked him. Isagi was subtly holding a hand in front of his dick.

"Listen here, lapdog. If you yell at me again, I'll cut off your kneecaps and rip out your throat. Aren't you tired of being Kaiser's shadow?...Let's make a deal. If you don't make a goal yourself in this next round yourself or with us passing the ball to you, I'll keep injuring your boyfriend."

Ness 'tch'ed, still in pain from how hard you kicked him. "He's not my boyfriend. And you could loose your career!"

"How? I shot the ball to Isagi, but Kaiser stood in the way. It was an accident. But if you don't score a goal in the next ten minutes, I'll make intentional accidents. Got it?"

Ness looked at you with fear in his eyes. "Y-yes."

---

Heyy, thanks for reading this! Please like, comment, and reblog if you want to!

Read you in the next post!

Also requests are still open for those who are wondering...

[nostalgic-woodwind]

Big Feelings

CG!Husk, CG!Fat Nuggets, and Regressor!Angel Dust

Plot: Husk and Fat Nuggets help Angel cope with his big feelings.

Request by @yourneurodivergentlady

Husk had finished cleaning wine glasses when he noticed Angel walking silently and quickly going upstairs to his room. The cat knew something was up, but he didn’t want to be pushy about it. Husk figured that the spider just wanted to wind down for a bit before coming back downstairs.

A while later, Angel finished taking a bath and dressing himself up in his favorite Abby Cadabby footed sleeper. He curled up into a ball on his bed, hiding underneath the covers. He had another shitty day at work because of Valentino and his usual abusive ways. After his shift ended, his head and stomach were hurting and his palms were sweaty. Angel’s brain was incredibly fuzzy. He could feel himself become more little at each passing second. Fat Nuggets noticed this after waking up from a nap and oinked as his way of asking if the spider was feeling alright.

Angel whined as a way of saying no. Fat Nuggets knew at that moment that he was very small. The pig walked over to Angel’s baby bag and rummaged through it to find something to calm him down. He pulled out the spider’s baby blanket and placed it next to him. Angel peeked out of his hiding spot and saw Fat Nuggets sadly smiling down at him.

“Nunu…” Angel hiccuped as he took the blanket and buried his face in it. He groaned as his stomach and head continued to irritate him. Fat Nuggets sat next to the spider to give him space and ensure that he is there for him at the same time.

Husk continued tending to the bar, but something in his gut was telling him to go check on Angel. He closed the bar for a bit and went upstairs. He was about to enter Angel’s room when he heard sniveling.

“Angel? It’s Husk,” Husk called before softly knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Papa…” Angel spoke from the other side. “Wan’ Papa…”

The winged cat opened the door and walked over to the bed.

“Hey, Angel, are you little?” Husk asked.

Angel silently nodded as he looked up at Husk with red, teary, bloodshot eyes. Husk’s heart dropped at the sight of this as he sat down next to the spider and Fat Nuggets.

“It seems to me that you’re feeling some very big feelings, huh?”

Angel nodded again.

“You want to show me where you’re feeling your big feelings?” Husk asked.

The spider pointed at his head, stomach, and hands.

Fat Nuggets got up and walked back to Angel’s little bag. He pulled out a communication board that Charlie and Husk made together and handed it to the winged cat, who nodded thanks in response.

“Are you feeling sad?” Husk questioned as he placed the communication board next to Angel.

The spider pointed at a square, which had a picture of a sad face on it.

“Mad… huwt…” Angel replied meekly. “Bad day…”

“Yeah, bad day, huh?” Husk nodded empathetically. “I’m sorry you had a bad day and that you’re hurt.”

Angel let out another tearful whine as he buried his face back into his blanket.

“Can I pick you up?” Husk asked.

“Uh-huh…” Angel muttered as he nodded his head.

Husk gently picked Angel out of the bed and into his arms. Once Angel was in the cat’s embrace, he hid his face in Husk’s shoulder.

Angel took a shaky breath and exhaled as tears continued to pour down his eyes.

“There you go, do some belly breathing,” Husk said. “I’ll do it with you.”

Angel and Husk spent the next few minutes doing deep belly breaths.

“Didn’t wan’ come to you,” Angel sniffled.

“Why not, little ragno?” Husk asked.

“No wan’ be a buwden to you… you busy and no wan’ bother you.”

Husk’s heart sank deeper as Angel let out quiet sobs.

“Hey, kiddo, listen to me. You are never going to be a burden nor a bother to me or anybody, okay? You can come to me whenever you’re feeling blue, or if you want to talk to me about something. Anything that goes on, you can count on me and Fat Nuggets.”

“Hotel?” Angel asked between sobs.

“Yep, the whole hotel is here for you, too,” Husk nodded.

Fat Nuggets snorted to Husk in concern.

“Yeah, Fat Nuggets, Angel’s gonna be okay,” Husk reassured as he gently and slowly patted Angel’s back in a rhythmic motion. “He just has big feelings, don’t you, buddy?”

Angel nodded.

“It’s okay to have them, Angel. Remember when Elmo’s dad said that everyone gets big feelings sometimes? Kids have them, grown-ups have them, everyone has them.”

Angel nodded again as he sniffled once more.

“Let’s get your face cleaned up, yeah?”

The spider nodded as he let Husk carry him to the bathroom. Once in there, Husk set Angel down on the sink counter and grabbed a washcloth from one of the sink drawers. He rinsed the cloth with water and washed Angel’s face while singing to him.

“There we go, all better,” Husk said as he tossed the washcloth into the hamper and carried Angel back to his room.

The winged cat then got an idea when he looked around and spotted a DIY ocean in a bottle that Angel made a few days ago when he was big.

“Hey, kiddo, you wanna play with your ocean bottle while I read you Olivia?” Husk suggested.

“Piggy?” Angel babbled.

“Yeah, Olivia the pig. You can pick out the books if you want.”

“Yes p’ease.”

Husk set the spider down on the bed and went to grab the bottle that rested on top of his dresser. He then walked over to a bookshelf that Charlie made and grabbed a couple of Olivia books that Angel had. He also grabbed the spider’s baby bag in case he wanted something else like a paci or a sensory toy. Husk handed Angel the ocean in a bottle and set the bag on the bed.

“Tank ‘ou, Papa,” Angel said as he started moving the bottle around.

“You’re welcome, little ragno. Now, which Olivia story should we start off with?” Husk asked as he sat down next to Angel and let him pick a book to start off story time.

[sunriserose1023]

Point of Ignition [five]

WARNINGS: Flirting, sexual innuendo, jealousy, slight emotional angst WORD COUNT: 2989

masterlist

You walked down the hall to the kitchen, coming to a stop when you saw Bucky’s bare back at the stove. He glanced over a tattooed shoulder and smiled when he saw you. 

“Morning, Pidge. Hungry?”

You blinked, the huskiness of his voice in the morning making you want to give a full-body shiver. You shook your head and walked past him to the fridge. He turned his attention back to the stove as he spoke again. 

“Coffee’s almost ready, if you drink that sort of thing.” “Depends. Do you have any creamer?”

You whirled away from the fridge, pointing at him. 

“If you say one thing about how you’ve got some cream you can give me, I swear to God—“

Bucky laughed, holding his hands up by his head. 

“Down, girl. I won’t say anything, I promise.”

You glared at him until he lowered his hands and turned back to the stove. 

“There’s some in there. I personally like a little cream and sugar in mine.”

You opened the door and found the French vanilla creamer, starting to back out of the fridge but stopping when Bucky was suddenly behind you. 

“Hold on, Pidge.”

You watched him reach over your shoulder, his muscular arm moving a few things around and bringing out a bottle of hazelnut caramel creamer. You lifted your eyes to his, unable to stop the smile when he grinned at you. 

“Can’t let my badass reputation be tarnished by something like this.” “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that.” “Plus, Sam would never let me live it down.” “I bet.”

You kept smiling as you stared up at him, kind of enraptured by his blue eyes and the dark stubble on his face. The heat of his skin near yours was contrasted by the cool air from the fridge, and after a moment of the two of you just staring at each other, you spoke softly. 

“Your bacon is burning.” “Hmm?”

You nodded behind him and Bucky glanced over his shoulder. 

“Oh, shit.”

You giggled as he hurried to flip the bacon, shaking your head as you closed the fridge, then poured yourself a cup of coffee. After you’d added the creamer, you lifted the mug to your lips and just held it there before taking a slow sip. You closed your eyes as the warmth of the coffee filled your mouth, then your throat, warming your chest as you swallowed. You opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you, a soft smile on his lips. You felt your cheeks warm, and he turned back to the stove, cracking an egg into a skillet. 

“Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded. 

“Yeah, you kept your hands to yourself and everything.” “Told you I would, Pidge.” “I was just about certain you’d try to cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, keeping his back to you. 

“You’ve made your feelings clear, Pidge. I don’t want to feel up anybody who doesn’t want me to.” “Maybe you’re not as bad as I’ve made you out to be.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, blue eyes wide. 

“That sounded damn near close to a compliment, Pidge.” “Oh, whatever.” “That was the nicest thing you’ve said to me." “You’re full of shit.” “I take it back. That was the nicest thing.”

He laughed as you threw a balled-up paper towel at him. He shook his head, stepping to the side and grabbing a plate he’d gotten out of the cabinet and set on the counter. 

“Here I am, slaving away to make sure you have a warm breakfast, and the abuse I’m suffering in my own kitchen…” “I didn’t ask you to make me breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to. This is just me being a good host.”

He handed you a plate with scrambled eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and a buttered piece of toast. He turned back to the stove and you took your plate to the bar, sitting on a barstool and taking a bite of bacon. 

“You do this for all your friends who spend the night?”

Bucky had a smile on his face as he glanced back at you. 

“I don’t have any friends who spend the night.” “So the girl on the couch last night?”

“She’d have been long gone before breakfast."

He turned back with a plate in his hand with double the amount of food he’d given you. You raised your eyebrows as you met his eyes and he gave you a wink before digging in. You shook your head, setting your toast back on the plate. 

“I don’t understand.” “What?”

You cut your eyes towards the couch and Bucky sighed. 

“It’s just sex, Pidge.”

You blinked, watching him shovel a huge bite of eggs into his mouth, chew and swallow before he spoke again. 

“I’m not looking for long-term. I’m not trying to find someone to settle down with who will have my babies. I’m here for a good time.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he dug into his toast, and you wrinkled your nose when he talked with food in his mouth. 

“I don’t let girls spend the night. You’re my first there, pigeon.” “Did anyone ever teach you basic table manners? Like not to speak with your mouth full?”

Bucky grinned and winked at you. 

“My mama would have my ass. “She needs to.”

Bucky winked at you again, and you rolled your eyes before you went back to your plate. The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, and when Bucky was finished eating, he stood up. 

“Seriously, Pidge. As long as you’re here, you’ll be the only one in my bed.” “But not your couch.” “See? You catch on quick.”

You shook your head, but smiled as Bucky took your empty plate and his to the sink. 

You took your seat in the auditorium, a nervous flutter in your belly. You would get your test score today, and if you had failed it, you didn’t know what you would do. You knew one failing grade wouldn’t be the end of your college career, but you couldn’t stop those “end of the world” thoughts from coming. You huffed out a breath and tried to reorganize your supplies again, stilling when the normally-empty seat beside you became occupied. 

“You nervous about the results too?”

You met John Walker’s eyes with a smile. 

“I’m not the only one?”

John sighed, setting his bag down in the seat beside him. 

“Definitely not. I haven’t lost any sleep over it, but I’m a little nervous now." “Me too.” “I’m sure you did fine.”

You nodded, looking back down at your notebook. 

“But what if I didn’t?”

Your voice was barely a whisper. You swallowed, thinking about the water bottle you had in your bag, the thought slipping away when a warm hand covered yours. You turned your head to see John smiling softly at you. 

“It’s not the end of the world. This is only the first test. You’ve got chances to bring your grade up if you didn’t do as well as you wanted to.”

You smiled back at him, holding his eyes. 

“Thank you.”

His smile grew, then went comically twisted as the professor walked into the room. You bit your lip to keep from laughing, turning your attention to the front of the room, feeling your cheeks warm when John didn’t move his hand from yours. You turned your hand over and he gently gave yours a squeeze, holding on as the professor began his lecture.

You stood beside John outside the auditorium, the two of you back from the crowd that had gathered beside the bulletin board. The professor had made a list of the test grades and posted them on the board, so not only would you know if you’d failed, but so would everyone else. You tried not to focus on that, but it was hard as you watched the different students in your class go through a range of emotions as they read their grades. 

“Ooh, he definitely failed.”

You glanced over to where John nodded, at a guy who walked to a table and sat down, putting his head in his hands. At a quiet cheer, you looked back at the crowds, seeing a girl with her hands up in the air. 

“She definitely did not.” “Getting My Degree Barbie.”

You laughed, covering your mouth with a hand. The crowd was slowly dispersing, giving that nervous flutter in your tummy a chance to grow. John took your hand in his, leading the two of you to the board. You blew out a breath, shaking your head. 

“You go first.”

John nodded, going towards the end of the list and finding his name. 

“C minus. Thank God.”

He gave a nervous laugh and you swallowed, eyes scanning the list until you found your name. Your eyes widened. 

“B. I got a B?”

John pointed to your name and you nodded, a smile spreading over his face as he nodded. 

“You got a B!”

You laughed as he swept you into his arms and you held him tightly. 

“Oh my god, what a relief!”

John gave you a squeeze, then stepped back, holding onto your arms. 

“See, you were all nervous for nothing. But I’m going to need to study with you for the next test. Maybe some of your genius can rub off on me.”

You laughed again as you pushed his shoulder, shaking your head. He grabbed your hand, smiling when you met his eyes. 

“Let’s celebrate. Can I take you out tonight? Say 7:30?”

You stared into his eyes, liking the way his smile was a little crooked. You found yourself nodding, a soft smile on your lips. 

You hurried across the hall, raising your hand as you got to Sam’s door. 

Knock knock knock

“Nat!”

Knock knock knock

“Nat!”

Knock knock knock

“Nat!”

You grinned as you stepped back, tapping your foot as you waited. You raised your hand again, repeating the knocks. 

“Big Bang Theory?”

You whirled around, pressing yourself against the wall as Bucky stepped out of his bedroom. You’d locked yourself in the bathroom as you were getting ready, and he hadn’t been home when you’d started. He propped a shoulder against his doorframe, a smile on his lips. You shrugged. 

“It’s funny.”

Bucky slowly nodded. 

“They’re not home.” “Yeah, I got that.”

You kept your back against the wall as his icy blue eyes slowly took you in. 

“You look nice, Pidge. Hot date?” “None of your business.”

You felt your face warm and Bucky raised an eyebrow. 

“You’ve got a date?” “Please, inflect that sentence a bit more.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m not a complete troll, you know.” “I never said you were.”

You look at him and narrowed your eyes a bit. His once-relaxed shoulders were raised, tense, jaw clenched, hands absently making fists. You couldn’t help but smile as realization hit.  

“Bucky, are you jealous?”

Both of his eyebrows raised a second before he scoffed, and you noticed he was no longer leaning against his door. 

“Why would I be jealous?” “You tell me.”

He rolled his eyes, starting to walk down the hall. You bit your lip, then called after him. He stopped and turned back to you, and you sighed. 

“Would you do something for me?”

He held your eyes for a moment, then sighed himself.

“You gotta know I’d do anything for you, pigeon.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you swore you could see the back of your skull. Bucky laughed, then made his way back to you. 

“What can I do for you, Pidge?”

You sighed, then turned your back to him. 

“I can’t reach.”

You stood there, feeling like an idiot with the back of your dress open. Your eyes darted from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, completely missing Bucky’s enraptured stare at the bare skin of your back, interrupted by the lace of your bra. You waited a moment, speaking softly. 

“Bucky?” “Yeah, I—I got it.”

You sucked in a breath when his scarred knuckles brushed against your skin as he slowly slid the dress’ zipper up. You closed your eyes to keep your body from shivering at his gentle touch, eyes flying open and sucking in a breath when Bucky squeezed your hips in his big hands. 

“There.”

You turned to face him, seeing a soft smile on his lips. 

“You look beautiful, Pidge. Much better than you did for our date.”

Your mouth fell open as he laughed. You reached out and punched his shoulder, and he stepped back, one hand moving to rub the area. 

“Damn, girl. Maybe I should talk to them about getting you in the ring with me.” “I’d hate to embarrass you in front of all your adoring fans.”

Bucky grinned as he followed you across the hall. 

“You’d beat the shit out of me, pigeon. I just know it.” “Hey, maybe then I could give your couch a workout.”

The grin slid from Bucky’s face and you laughed. 

“You should see your face! I thought you were ‘what’s good for the goose’ and all. Big talker.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and you snorted as you left his room to go back across the hall. You turned the knob and went into Sam’s room, finding a pair of Natasha’s heels. You turned to leave the room, jumping when you noticed Bucky at the door. 

“Jeez, make some noise.”

He stepped aside to let you pass, following you down the hall. You bypassed the couch to sit in one of the recliners, slipping your feet into Natasha’s heels. You stood up, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress, turning to face Bucky. 

“What do you think? Too much?”

Bucky let his eyes roam from your head down to your feet, smiling when he met your eyes again. 

“Beautiful. Guy’s not gonna know what hit him.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. 

“Thanks. Do you have a spare key I can use?”

Bucky shook his head. 

“It’ll be unlocked.” “I don’t know what time I’ll be back. I don’t want to have to wake anybody up.” “You won’t.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. You propped a hand on your hip, eyes widening when realization hit you. 

“Bucky, you are not going to wait up for me.” “Never said I was.” “No, but you heavily insinuated it.” “Have fun on your date, Pidge.”

He turned and walked down the hall, ignoring the way you called after him. You gave an irritated huff before going to the front door, letting it slam shut behind you. 

Bucky sat on his bed and stared at the wall. He’d heard the door shut, so he knew you were gone and he was alone in the apartment. He lifted a hand to rub at his chin, unable to shake the weird feelings that had come over him the minute he discovered you had a date. It’s not like he was surprised; you were beautiful, any guy would be lucky to have you. 

He just didn’t want any guy to have you. 

Fuck. 

Bucky pushed his hands through his hair and stood up, pacing the floor between the door and his bed. 

You weren’t interested in him. You’d made that perfectly clear, and he understood. He wasn’t going to nag you until you gave in, and the moment Bucky Barnes got on his knees to beg for a woman would be his last moment on Earth. 

He shook his head, continuing to pace. 

He knew the two of you had a connection. You could fight it all you wanted, but even you couldn’t deny it. Maybe not a romantic attraction, but there was something there. He knew it in the way your smile made him feel warm all the way down to his toes. How teasing you was one of his new favorite pastimes, and that swelling he felt in his chest when you teased him right back. The way you didn’t shirk away from his touches, but rather leaned into them, almost like you were needing it. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was a slow burn into falling in love with you. 

Bucky came to a hard stop, turning his head and seeing his shocked face in the mirror. 

No. 

Absolutely not. 

Bucky Barnes did not fall in love. He was here for a good time, and love was definitely not a good time. It was too much work and could rip a person to shreds and he was not about that. His dealings with women were more business transactions than romance. 

And didn’t that sound dirty and wrong?

Bucky shook his head. He met a girl, made her laugh, took her home and made doubly sure she … enjoyed herself. He was meticulous about making sure she understood there was no chance for a relationship, nothing more than sex, with the slightest possibility for more sex if it was good enough. It was a good system that had worked extremely well for him for the past year and a half. 

But the thought of adding you to that equation, to having you on the couch like the rest of the girls made him kind of sick to his stomach. 

Bucky groaned, pushing his hands through his hair again. He walked to the bed and sat down, slowly rubbing his hands together, unseeing eyes locked on the wall. 

This was nothing. A little crush he had to get over. You’d told him before, you were the first girl who’d told him no, so he saw you as a challenge. You didn’t want him romantically, but you seemed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed yours. 

So, he’d be your friend. He’d be your best friend. 

And that would have to be enough. 

PREVIOUS//NEXT

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM NOTTING HILL *  assorted dialogue from the 1999 film, adjust as necessary

can i stay for a while?

i went out in my goddamn underwear.

you are lovelier this morning than you have ever been.

wait, what about me?

do you wanna come up?

there seems to be lots of reasons why i shouldn't.

i thought you were leaving tomorrow?

would you like something to eat?

i enjoyed the movie very much.

i love that you tried.

i'm sorry i'm so late.

it just got to the point where i couldn't remember any of the reasons why we were together.

nevertheless, they're yours if you want them.

ah, that's not yogurt. that's mayonnaise.

nice try gorgeous, but you don't fool anyone.

exactly. here we go again.

i just wanted to apologize for my friend. he's very sensitive.

do you feel that way?

can i ask you why you are wearing that?

do you want to stay?

you haven't slept with her, have you?

which way are you going?

how do i look?

god that's an enormous arse.

the thing is, with you i'm in real danger.

i'm sure you didn't mean any harm.

james bond never has to put up with this sort of shit.

sorry, you think you deserve the brownie?

you can stay forever.

that is a cheap question and the answer is, of course, no comment.

let me just have a quick look.

would you like a cup of tea before you go?

do you always have to say no to everything?

it's as if i've taken love heroin, and now i can't ever have it again.

it's a clinical thing.

no no no! i thought you were someone else.

you know what they say about men with big feet.

sorry about the "surreal but nice" comment.

is this your first film?

what's the pay like in movies? i mean. last movie. how much did you get paid?

you said "whoopsidaisies."

do you ever masturbate?

no one knows why some things work out and some things don't.

she said she wanted to go out with you?

everyone in the world knows who you are.

i'm also just a girl... standing in front of a boy... asking him to love her.

what is it about men and nudity? particularly breasts? how can you be so interested in them?

every time i get my heart broken, the newspapers splash it about as though it's entertainment.

the more i think about things, the more i see no rhyme or reason in life.

one day not long from now, my looks will go, they'll discover i can't act and i will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.

next question? yes, you in the pink shirt.

are there any circumstances that you and he might be more than just friends.

oh god. this is one of those key moments in life when it's possible you can be really, genuinely cool... and i'm failing one hundred percent.

what's all the fuss about?

some people do spend their whole lives together.

anybody saying they want to go out with you is... pretty great, isn't it?

did you know, and this is pretty amazing, but i once saw ringo starr.

probably best not tell anyone about this.

it was sort of sweet, actually.

i've made the wrong decision, haven't i?

i can't believe you have that picture on your wall.

it feels like how being in love should be. floating through a dark blue sky.

busy tomorrow?

you daft prick.

if you'd like to ask your question again?

just going to the kitchen to get some food, then i'm going to tell you a story that will make your balls shrink to the size of raisins.

[aperiraa]

how high are we thinking their sex drives are. Also, in a moment of a complete horny state do they prefer quickies or not.

I can imagine Ao'nung pumping it hard while he got his arms under the back of your knees. In the bathroom too. On the bench. Like don't even care about how loud you is. When y'all walk out he's not smug, more like we gotta get the fuck outta here, I'm gonna blow that back out. Shower sex too oml. Washing ur back and obsessed with how good that ass looks with the water sliding over it.

Neteyam has more morals, but dick game MEAN. Af. Wouldn't do it in anybody else's bed, wouldn't wanna make you uncomfortable. But if he gotta do what he gotta do, he'd probably opt for some head in the dark. Or pleasure dom ways, would defs wanna finger you.

Lo'ak is more "This my girl, I don't want nobody hearing her pretty voice or nothing." So he'll almost give himself blue balls or some shit. Like wait till we get back to the pad, he gonna throw it down then. Tires screeching, tryna distract himself by playing loud rap music and shit otw back home.

Loak would wait but beat that pussy up as soon as yall get home and he would be all in yo shit like he talking yo ear off and kissing all on you and neteyam would be that sweet, deep voice dude who lean back on his elbow and guide your head on his dick when you giving him head and aonung definitely take advantage of his size and fold yo ass in half and break that pussy in half

[jungk0oksthighs]

Against The Odds | My Time

Pairing - jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

Genre - angst, smut, fluff, established relationship, ceo!jungkook, ceo!reader, attorney!taehyung

Word Count - 4k

Jungkook's patience is wearing thin, and your time is running out

Warnings: swearing, heavy angst, mentions and descriptions of kidnapping

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Time. That’s what life bubbles down to, isn’t it? Time.

How much time we spent with loved ones. How much we didn’t.

The seconds fade into minutes, the hours into days and before you know it you’re suddenly nearing thirty years old with nothing to show for it aside from the beginnings of wrinkled skin and a few stray grey hairs. That’s the case for most of us, but of course there’s an exception to each and every rule of thumb.

Jeon Jungkook being the exception. CEO of Jeon Industries, proud billionaire, excellent businessman and soon to be husband to the love of his life. From an outsiders point of view Jungkook has it all. The wealth, the love, the connections; he’s the owner of everything that a man of status requires, anybody can see that. His family, friends, the paparazzi who gawk at him and wait three hours outside in the pouring rain for that one snap shot of him wearing an Armani suit.

But if there’s one thing Jungkook has learned recently, appearances can be deceiving.

It’s been one week since your birthday, one week since his penthouse apartment was broken into yet nothing of value taken. A whole seven days since you and he fought and he’d left in borderline tears. While a week doesn’t seem like a lengthy amount of time for most people, the past seven days has been an excruciatingly difficult period of time in his life.

Usually you are his rock, his anchor. You keep him grounded and support him through the darkest days, shining your ray of light on his future. It’s one of the many reasons he asked you to marry him, you are without a shadow of a doubt the only person he’s ever been able to see a future with. You’re smart, optimistic, caring. And you smashed straight through his emotional walls like a joyous wrecking ball with a bratty attitude wearing expensive lingerie. You’re the only woman Jungkook has ever truly loved, he’s memorised your tiny quirks and questionable habits – so of course he noticed when all these things he loves about you suddenly disappeared.

Your smile was the first to go, replaced with an empty looking shadow of a sinister grin. Next was your positivity, one day you were a glass half full type of girl and the next thing he knew the glass wasn’t even half empty – it ceased to exist.

Last night was the final straw for him, the nail in the coffin, the only absolute definitive proof he needed to confirm his suspicions. The woman living under his roof, sleeping in his bed and for all intents and purposes his fiancé – is not his fiancé. He likes to think he knows you pretty damn well, maybe not as much as your best friend Jimin does, but he knows the things that make you you.

Which is why when he caught ‘you’ throwing clothes over the closet floor in a frenzy, complaining about how you wanted to ‘reinvent yourself’ and ‘throw this old shit out’ he immediately grew suspicious. He eyed you cautiously as you held up a navy blue dress, one that Jungkook remembers very clearly in his mind as what you were wearing the night he first encountered you in Black Swan, with nothing but disgust in your eyes.

“Hey… I uh, got off work early.” Jungkook mumbled, watching you like a hawk from the corner of his eye. The bruising on your face was beginning to settle, and there were differences, teeny tiny insignificant ones that the untrained eye would probably miss, that he caught straight away.

It's no secret you and your sister are identical, but he knows you like the back of his tattooed hand. He knows all the scars, dimples, the texture, the tone of your skin. He knows you, he's seen you in all your glory on your best days and held you in the darkness of the bad days.

The woman in front of him isn't you.

You hadn’t bothered to look up at him standing against the doorway, didn’t greet him, didn’t throw your arms round his neck and tug him into a warm embrace or loving kiss like you usually did. No, you just stared at that god damn dress as though it was the ugliest article of clothing to ever exist. There was no nostalgic twinkle in your eye, heat didn’t rise to your cheeks at the memory of how Jungkook slid his inked fingers down every square inch of that same fabric before fucking you for the very first time. Your smile was empty, unbothered and tainted by the way you rolled your eyes at his arrival.

“Good for you.” You shrugged him off nonchalantly.

His muscles grew tense beneath his tailored grey suit, Taehyung had warned him not to lose his temper in front of you because they needed to find the real you as soon as possible. Letting his emotions get the best of him could possibly put you in danger. And so without thinking too much about it he quirked a thick brow, probing his tongue against the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop the putrid insults he had waiting from escaping his lips.

“Did you go to work today?” He asked with deep breaths, busying himself by finding a lounge wear set to change into.

While his fingers dug into his drawers he peered over his shoulder, you were still sitting in front of the full-length mirror holding the navy dress. It was like something from a horror movie, the eeriness, the tension, the way he could’ve sworn your reflection displayed an evil smirk but when his eyes flickered to your profile it had completely vanished. Jungkook didn’t know how much more of this he could endure, but the prospect of you being held somewhere against your will, or worse, gave him the strength he needed to bite his tongue.

“No… I’m still pretty shaken up after the break in I guess.”

“Mhm.” Jungkook physically bit his tongue, until the metallic iron taste of blood tainted his mouth. “So what have you been doing today?”

It wasn’t like him to go into a different room to change, but ever since he’d connected the dots of who the woman sitting before him truly is – he’s made a conscious effort not to undress around her. Standing in the ensuite bathroom he slipped into his comfort clothes, fists balling tightly before they slid into his sweatpants. He can't keep doing this. When the ensuite door swung open thankfully he was already dressed, and his whole body grew equally as rigid as his jaw when you stood in front of him with an empty yet flirtatious smile.

“Waiting for you of course.” The purr landed on his ears like a swarm of blood thirsty mosquitos, draining him.

It took everything inside him not to grimace, stomach bile quickly rising to the back of his throat upon seeing your long eyelashes blink at him seductively. There were changes in the details of your face, your skin, down to the way your hair parted. Even if he wanted to be selfish and blissfully ignorant to the fact the woman in front of him was not the one he loved, he couldn’t. Because when your fingertips brushed up his abdomen, tugging up his hoodie in the process, those differences were the only thing he could concentrate on.

“I’m gonna go to the gym.” He barged past you, heart thundering inside his chest threatening to implode. He didn’t spare you a second glance, didn’t listen to whatever words you uttered under your breath. All that mattered in that moment was that he had to escape your presence before his wrath did the talking for him.

It took him five hours of hitting his favourite punching bag to calm down. Five hours of ignoring your texts and calls. Five hours of being anywhere but around you. Because deep down he knew the longer this scenario panned out for, the closer he got to quite literally killing ‘you’. And when he got home last night things went from bad to worse, the hairs on his body standing to attention before his physiological fight or flight response ultimately kicked in.

“Jungkookie… Why don’t you come to bed?”

“Not tonight, I’m tired.”

“You haven’t even kissed me since my birthday…” You said, feigning an upset pout.

"Haven't I?" His stare remained cemented to the television.

He knew full well he hadn't, how could he? You're not you. You might walk and talk, look and dress like you - but you're still not you. Being intimate with you right now is the last thing on his mind. He's only fucking doing this to protect you, keep you safe. At least that's what he says to himself to get him out of bed each morning.

"I guess there are ways you can make up for that though..." Your voice was low and sultry, burning his ears with each syllable. He didn't dare look in your direction, knowing that you were wearing lingerie in an attempt to lure him closer.

Fuck this. He’d thought. Fuck being a pawn in whatever sick and twisted game this was. Perhaps it was a foolish error to make, but he couldn't catch the scoff that emitted from his throat in time, fleeing the apartment within minutes. Bringing him here, the same guest bed he’d just woken up in mere moments ago. The one place he knows you’re avoiding like the plague.

Jungkook doesn’t know the details of how you and Jimin became best friends, but he knows that not even a single day goes by where the two of you don’t communicate. Up until one week ago.

The familiar comfort of the thick cotton sheets slide over his frame when he shifts in bed, stretching. Jungkook has been staying at Jimin and Yoongi’s place almost every night since the break-in, under the ruse of ‘working late in the office’.

Over the past few days himself, Jimin, Yoongi and Taehyung have been working their hardest to get to the bottom of this situation. A private investigator was hired, one who informed the group that no official police report had ever been filed after your birthday. It was a lie. It was all a lie.

Of course the other members of Jungkook’s trusted friends felt for him, they really did, having to live with you and act normal in your presence when they all know full-well that you are not you. For the others, avoiding you had been pretty effortless, giving the fact that you’d actively stayed away from them. But Jungkook hadn’t been so lucky.

The revealing outfits. The bitchiness. The blatant disregard for what had happened. The guilt trips. The attempts to lure him into bed. It’s all chipping away at his heart and truthfully he knows he doesn’t have much heart left to share.

“Hey…” It’s Jimin’s soft voice that pulls Jungkook from his thoughts, opening the guest bedroom door quietly. “Can I come in?”

With a lazy morning voice thickened with sleep Jungkook chuckles, sitting up in bed, “It’s your house Jimin.”

Your best friend smiles nodding once before stepping over the threshold, “I didn’t hear you come in last night, you should’ve woken me up.”

“Nah,” Jungkook frowns, pursing his lips, “You two were already in bed I didn’t want to disturb you, thanks for leaving your door open for me though.”

“Did she make a move on you again?”

“Mhm. Bolted out the apartment and came straight here, I should probably go back soon.” He sighs, feeling the weight of the world struggling to rest on his broad shoulders. He can’t keep doing this for much longer, he knows that, but he can’t risk the real you getting hurt because of his impatience either.

Jimin’s expression is nothing short of pained when he sits on the edge of the bed, keeping a good amount of distance between the two men, “She’s not there, the PI called about twenty minutes ago and said she left, he’s gonna try and follow her and see where she goes.”

“Mmm. Probably for the best.” Kook nods, fingertips messily combing his hair, "I'm getting pretty close to hitting a woman for the first time in my life."

“Jungkook…” Jimin sighs, averting his gaze to the corner of the room, “It’s been a week… Maybe we should go to the police. I-, I know pretending you’re okay is slowly killing you. You can’t keep living like this, and Y/N wouldn’t want—”

“Y/N is the only reason I’m doing this.” Jungkook bites, “You’re right, the situation is less than ideal and if I had it my way that bitch would be six feet under by now. But… She’s the only one who knows where Y/N really is, like Tae said we have to be smart about this.”

“But—”

“Jimin I know you’re worried about her, believe me I am too—”

“Do you really trust Taehyung’s motives here?” Jimin’s question is like a dagger to Jungkook’s spine, forcing him to sit up straighter with furrowed brows and a confused slack jaw, “Look I like Tae, but don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that he’s the one saying we shouldn’t inform the police? He’s in love with your fiancé. Why wouldn’t he want the police to help us? It’s not like you’re a regular guy with a regular problem, the police will actually listen to you because of who you are.”

At this Jungkook pauses, blood running cold while he mulls over the facts. You’re missing, the police should be informed. Except you’re not missing missing. Should the police be informed? Taehyung does love you. As does Jimin, and if Jimin’s suggesting to go to the police why would Taehyung be against that? Is he looking for you himself to play the hero? No. He wouldn’t. Would he?

“I know your head’s up your ass right now,” Jimin wears a sympathetic frown as he speaks, “But it’s obvious Y/N has been replaced by her cunt of a sister. How did she even know Y/N was alone in the apartment? Taehyung was the last person to see Y/N, knew she was home alone, and suddenly there’s a break-in and you ‘shouldn’t go to the police’? Come on Kook connect the dots yourself.”

“I-, I don’t have time for this. Thanks for letting me crash here but I need to get to the office.” Jungkook mumbles, Jimin’s words scratching every corner of his mind until he has the beginnings of a painful migraine. It simultaneously makes sense and no sense at all. Does Taehyung know where you are?

--

The concept of time has been truly lost on you. You don’t know how long you’ve been held captive in this tiny dark room. You don’t know if anybody’s even noticed you’ve gone. All you know is that you’re being held in the same place as your nephew, giving that most of the time you’re the one to care for him in here.

There’s a man in here sometimes too, a faceless man, who speaks quiet enough for you to miss most of his words. You long for a wave of recognition to wash over you one day and know who it is, remember that voice, see his face, who’s keeping you here, but it’s yet to happen.

“I’ll get us out of here I promise.” You whisper to a sleeping Charlie, who’s bundled up atop the small mattress in the makeshift dungeon you’re residing in. This is no place for a child. At least he’s too young to remember any of this, you tell yourself over and over until the guilt somewhat subsides.

A dull vibration earns you to jump, especially when you register that it’s coming from inside your room. Did Ruth leave her phone here? You’re sweating, dirty, scrambling to your feet to follow the sound and try to save yourself from this nightmare. It feels too good to be true. Like being stranded on a desert island and seeing a rescue ship in the distance. Every ounce of hope surges your body and manifests into energy.

It's a black Samsung phone, and Ruth is calling it.

Fuck this, you think, fucking being a pawn in whatever sick and twisted game this is. Your thumb trembles as you decline the call instantly, adrenaline coursing your veins while you weigh up your options. This is it. You’re going to be saved. There’s a lock on the device, because of course there is, so you’re only able to call the numbers you know by heart.

999? Or Jeon Industries?

Against your better judgement you opt for the latter, desperately wanting nothing more than to hear Jungkook’s voice. You’ll call him first, the police second. The battery is only at 2% and you know time is against you if Ruth's already figured out the owner of the phone left it here. But you don’t care. You’ve barely eaten, drank, slept, you’re delirious and wearing a tight frantic smile when the line starts to ring and you hear the familiar sound of the main receptionists voice.

“Hello Jeon Industries, how can I help?”

“Hi! Oh my god hi. Hello,” You clear your throat, voice hot and sore, “Can you put me through to Jungkook please. It’s urgent.”

“Mr Jeon hasn’t arrived to the office just yet, I can put you through to his assistant who’ll gladly take a message for you?” The woman sounds chipper, truthfully you’ve never really liked the receptionist there because the times you have seen her she’s always been gawking at your man. But in this moment she’s without a doubt your favourite person on the planet.

“Yes, yes that’s fine okay pass me to Hoseok please.” You’re nodding, hands shaking, heart pounding, palms clammy from anxiety and panic. Please hurry, you think, please—

“Jeon Jungkook’s office you’re speaking with his assistant, how can I help you today?”

“Hobi!” You sob, tears clouding your vision while you struggle to keep it together, “Hobi it’s me, it’s Y/N. Is Jungkook there? Or can you pass me through to his personal number? Please. I don’t have much time—”

“…Y/N?” Hoseok’s voice is eerily quiet yet oozes surprise, and as quickly as he answered the call he vanishes.

 You peel the device away from your ear, disappointment weighing down every joint in your body. You ran out of time. It’s dead.

--

Running late is something that Jungkook has been doing a lot lately. Usually he’s painfully punctual, to a point where it pisses people off. He hates tardiness, bad time keeping infuriates him so finding himself jogging into the office twenty minutes after he was supposed to arrive doesn’t particularly make him feel great. Never mind the fact he’s going through absolute hell on earth right now, countless conspiracy theories circling his brain.

Jimin has a point, but Taehyung has a point too. Is telling the police about this going to be better for your safety, or worse? What if Taehyung does know where you are? What if he doesn’t? Who does? Jungkook is just about ready to punch the large glass door to his office when he sees his assistant in his peripheral vision.

“Morning Hoseok, do I have any messages?” He waves his hand politely, forcing a smile. The two are dressed almost identically today in three piece black suits, and for a split second Jungkook finds peace within the sense of normality and routine this building brings.

Hoseok’s eyes flicker to his boss, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing up and down as he swallows what Jungkook imagines to be his breakfast. It’s early, Hoseok usually has breakfast with your assistant Yuri before making his way here. An unconventional couple, Jungkook thinks, but at least their situation is nowhere near as messy as his own.

“Well?” Jungkook smiles, doe-eyes widening as if to force an answer, “Did anyone call before I got here?”

“No sir… Nobody called.”

x

[marsmarbles]

OMG IM BACK. ANOTHER ONE SHOT HEHEHEH. Pumping these out like… idk things that get pumped out fast. (1119 words, sorry it’s so long again)

Scar was missing from the group, and Sausage was the first to notice. 

It was a nice morning. The sky was a soft pink fading into orange on the horizon and blue further up. Clouds floated lazily through the sky like fish in a river. The window in their bedroom was open, letting the faint smell of hyacinth and dewy grass waft into the bedroom.

Usually Sausage woke up slowly, relishing in the comfort of his boyfriend's arms as they greeted him good morning. This morning, though, he awoke all at once. He opened his eyes and shot up, slightly disturbing Martyn next to him. He groaned a little, and Sausage had to rub his arm a few times to get him back to sleep. They had figured out Martyn liked arm and back rubs early on, only because of all the stress he seemed to carry.

Sausage slowly started looking around, trying to figure out what was missing. All the furniture was in the right spots. Nothing was on fire, and he didn’t feel like he had lost a life. It wasn’t until he looked to his left that he realized why was wrong. Scar wasn’t in the bed with them. The chain that usually connected them was dragged along the floor and through the wall to the outside of the house.

Slowly, Sausage got out of the bed, making sure Martyn and Ren were still fast asleep, and crept downstairs. He needed to make sure Scar was ok, not being faced with leftover mobs or other players. He followed the chain slowly, through the small house they all shared together, and out to the front garden. Their house stood out from the rest of the forest; among green trees and flowers was a pseudo-steampunk build meant to be an assassin’s guild, or a bounty hunters home, whichever theme they had agreed on that day.

Sausage looked around for mobs before emerging. Creepers could be around any corner, especially at the crack of dawn, as could the spiders. When he deemed the coast clear, he wandered out. Sausage followed the shrinking chain, finding himself walking deeper and deeper into the woods. Stray leaves crunched under his feet, creating an ambient atmosphere to fill the quiet forest. Sausage though it was too quiet.

Then it wasn’t. He could hear talking up ahead, along one of the mountain cliffs. Slowly, he snuck up behind the figure (it was Scar, of course it was Scar) and hid behind a particularly thick tree. He could barely hear what he was saying, but he could all the same.

“…I don’t know, Jellie. I don’t feel wanted much.” His voice was raspy and low, like Scar had woken up not ten minutes ago. That was entirely plausible, Sausage reminded himself, he had barely woken up five minutes ago.

A small meaww came from the cat in Scar’s lap. He pet her head cautiously, letting his calloused hands run through her gray fur. He sighed, leaning back against the grass.

“I feel like I don’t have anybody this time around. Just another game where Scar gets no friends. ‘How’d the guy with no friends win?’ And all that.” He huffed. “I would go to Joel, but he has Scott this season, and Grian and… BigB are hanging out again. I don’t feel plenty wanted, you know.” Sausage could swear Scar was speaking right to him for a second before he kept talking. “They all have each other, and I don’t get anyone.” Another meeeooowww. “I guess I have you. Scar and Jellie against the world, hmm?”

The cliff was silent for a second, and Sausage spared a glance around the tree to catch a glance. Scar was laying down now, arms and legs spread out and a small gray fur ball on his stomach. He looked happy, or at least he would if he wasn’t wearing one of the most betrayed and depressed looks Sausage had ever seen on another person's face. He wanted to go over and console him then and there, but he supposed it was strange he was there to begin with. So he stayed. 

“Should I leave them? I don’t think I add anything to the team, anyway. They would be better off without me.” His hands had drifted up and he was petting the cat again. “Maybe I should just have Ren die twice so I’ll be red, then I can be set free from these stupid chains. I bet I could convince them.”

Jellie yawns, big to show off all her teeth, and Sausage is momentarily scared of her.

“I just- I’m not sure. I just want to feel needed, not just like someone who’s tagging along. I want them to see me as something.”

He did see Scar as something! But… maybe he didn’t act that way. He thought about how much time he had been spending with Ren and Martyn lately. How much time they had all spent together neglecting the fourth member of their team, someone who had noticed before any of them that he was an outcast among them all. The thought of Scar watching them have fun together, laughing and joking, while he stood off from the group seemed to be more prevalent in memories than he wanted it to be.

“…leaving,” Scar said. Sausage tunned back in, worried he had missed something. “I have enough food, and there’s a nice spot down the brook. I won’t be too separated from them, and if they really wanted, they could track me down.”

Sausage felt his stomach tighter. Scar was planning on living away from them, so he would feel less alone. At least he would have Jellie, right?

He made his way back to the house after he discovered that, not wanting to be caught by the self-proclaimed outcast. When he got back, he saw Rem was up and making breakfast for them.

“Hey dude,” Ren greeted, grinning with large teeth. He had never been one for pet names, opting for ‘dude’ instead. “Where’s Scar?”

Sausage buried his head in Ren's shoulder and shook his head. “Left. Left us.”

That night, when Scar stumbled into his makeshift hut with meat for Jellie, he was met with a gift. A purple flower, and a small card.

I’m sorry, Scar.

Scar picked up the hyacinth and smiled to himself. He put it in the glass cups he kept around, for things just like this. The note was put under the glass, as a reminder he had not forgiven the others quite yet. At least one of them had cared enough to apologize. At least one of them still cared about him, if not just a little.

Two more little things heh. One, you know why I used hyacinth?? Because in Greek Mythology, Apollo kills his gay lover and crates a flower in his image to pray for forgiveness. The flower means forgiveness, and I also thought the vibes were there lmao.

Two, you drew. Fanart. Of my fanfic. Of your fanart. Fan-ception. (In all seriousness, thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoy these :3)

-🌻

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! Scar’s monologue made me so so sad…AND I DID THAT TO HIM!!! I also love the little bits with Sausage, Ren, and Martyn!! They’re so cute and sweet!!!

In all honesty, I was anticipating this all day!!! I was so mind blown by your damselduo one shot the thought of more writing got me super excited!

I honestly love fanart so so much. People using their craft to express their enjoyment of my stuff is so super special to me and I find it really rewarding. And this goes for anyone.

I love your attention to detail aaaaaaaaahhhh!!!! I’m so sorry it’s a lot to keep up with!!! Also also, I love that it’s long.

I’ll be thinking of some fan-ception to do later because I love this so much!!