#anyone else with thoughts feel free to chime in

[majimassqueaktoy]

I finished the first and second game and moved onto the third game, finished that and now I'm on the fourth but I can't get over how much calmer and more normal Majima is in general but especially with Kiryu, where's all the obsession gone?

[brawlite]

for your d/s pov poll, were you surprised by the results? what's your own opinion on it? did it end up helping you make your decision? (writing my own d/s fic and so curious about your thoughts)

[for anyone curious about the poll/results, here's the poll on tumblr and here it is on twitter]

painting rly broad strokes of my deeply unscientific poll, about 50% of people (slightly lower on tumblr than twit) preferred reading a fic from a sub's pov. a quarter(ish, slightly higher on twitter) preferred dom pov, and the rest had a nuanced answer they left in the comments.

one of the comments i did see often on both tumblr & twitter was some variation of "feels like there’s SO much more sub pov that dom pov is extra special to me" (this quote is from @windcalling, thank you, i loved the way you said this!!).

the overall results of the poll weren't surprising to me; i kind of assumed people would rather read sub pov, given anecdotal evidence from life and similar discussions/posts -- but the recurring comments about a non zero number of people enjoying dom pov because there were fewer fics of that nature/because it was more "unique"? that WAS surprising. and kind of refreshing! also, i guess i was a little surprised that the percentage of people who have an overall preference for dom pov was as high as it was, given my earlier lack of surprise over people preferring sub pov.

one of my other favorite comments, and one i really resonated with, was from @acinonyxian, who said "[...] but generally i want to be from the perspective of the person who is having the worse time/greater internal conflict/more potential for growth or change" which is -- honestly, exactly my preference for writing something: the pov whoever is having the worse time. conflict is fun & challenging to write.

on your question of my own opinion: on writing: personally, i find it easier to write sub pov, like a little cheat -- something about all of the reactions being right there and more obvious to the readier, and if they're having a bad time about it? so easy to wallow in and make the reader wallow in, too -- but more fun to write dom pov -- it's an observation of someone else's reactions. it's picking apart something from an outside, limited perspective. its about the satisfaction of completing a difficult puzzle, the reward of putting in a lot of effort and seeing it come to fruition -- and it's also about control. which is, you know, fun. on reading: yeah, i definitely have to go with whoever is having the worse time, & that is not always the sub pov character, though often is.

to be totally honest, it didn't really help me make my decision. i actually wanted to write the fic in question (eddie/tommy from 9-1-1), the one that spurned this poll, from tommy's pov, as the more dom character, but i also wanted to included a lot of eddie/buck pining, and that... wouldn't be possible if it wasn't from eddie's pov. so, alas, i had to ditch the idea of tommy salivating over eddie on his knees. sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. i guess. :/

(but the results did inspire me to write more of my d/s kniveswood fic from knives' dom pov, so it's not nothing! and, ngl, these results will probably also color my pov thoughts in the future, too -- i like writing dom pov and its nice hearing people enjoy reading it.)

best of luck with your d/s fic, anon! let me know what pov you end up going for, and why!! i'm curious!

[sluttywonwoo]

the roster | part one of three

pairing: christopher bahng + lee sangyeon + choi seuncheol x f!reader

summary: what happens when all the guys on your roster find out about each other?

warnings: see here (mdni!!!)

word count: 4.4k

series masterlist

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up. 

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.  

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders. 

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them. 

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men. 

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed. 

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in. 

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter. 

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in. 

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way. 

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick. 

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure. 

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise. 

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment. 

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word. 

-

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing. 

The other two side-eye him. 

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking. 

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation. 

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life. 

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful. 

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue. 

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself. 

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble. 

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in. 

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point. 

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies. 

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink. 

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist. 

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time. 

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week. 

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent. 

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks. 

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken. 

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two. 

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?” 

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand. 

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath. 

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage. 

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends. 

“What now?” you ask. 

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants. 

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers. 

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. 

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble. 

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.” 

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did. 

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before. 

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now. 

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored. 

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings. 

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.” 

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. 

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong. 

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open. 

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back. 

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want. 

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep. 

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos. 

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak. 

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise. 

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.” 

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant. 

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story. 

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch. 

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. 

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back. 

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward. 

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you. 

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying. 

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear, 

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two. 

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper. 

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room. 

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene. 

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum. 

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again. 

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum. 

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway. 

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. 

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table. 

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment. 

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters. 

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work. 

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked. 

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.  

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper. 

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips. 

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger. 

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris. 

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines. 

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod. 

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts. 

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment. 

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back. 

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water. 

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups. 

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed. 

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

add yourself to the taglist here

[adiadagaki]

Making Megumi laugh

For days you'd been plotting how to get Megumi to truly laugh. Around you he often let out huffs of amusement and let small smiles free.

And it was nice, being gifted those small parts of him that he rarely let anyone else see. But you wanted to see him truly happy, complete joy lighting up his face.

After days, you had come up with a basic plan. One you should have conjured up the first time the thought popped in your head.

Tickling.

Surely Megumi was ticklish, everyone was ticklish somewhere.

The hard part of your plan was where would Megumi be ticklish. Under his arms didn't seem likely, not feet either. So you settled on hips. He definitely seemed liked the time to be ticklish in the hips.

So, with your devious plan in mind you slinked into the training room, finding Megumi alone and taking a drink.

"Hi Megumi." You chimed, closing the distance between the pair of you. "Hi, what are doing here?"

"Aren't you happy to see me?" You pouted, your steps measured and as casual as you could make them.

Just a little closer.

"Yes." He said blandly, "I just weren't expecting you to meet me." Closing the cap on his water, he glanced his pretty blues at you as you smiled warmly.

"Well I thought it would be a nice surprise." Leaning around his torso, you peered up at him through your lashes. When you were certain his eyes were glued to yours, you struck.

Slipping your hands under his baggy hoodie you tickled his hips, praying your plan would work.

And it did. You were right. Ticklish hips.

Laughter burst past his lips immediately, a wide, handsome smile stretching his lips. Little smile lines appeared at the corner of his eyes and you beamed at the sight.

But it ended too soon, he regained himself and caught your wrists, his grin falling to a weak smile.

"What the hell was that about?"

"You have such a pretty smile." You blurted, pinching his cheeks, "And such a lovely laugh. Why have you never laughed around me before?" Megumi drunk in your cute pout with humour, another grin threatening to split across his lips.

"It isn't that I don't find you funny, it just isn't a natural reaction. I wouldn't want to force it."

"We need to break that habit," You declared, poking his chest, "You have the prettiest laugh and I want to hear it more." Leaning forwards, he kissed your forehead, love threatening to burst his heart.

No one else was capable of making him feel so visceraly.

"Thank you baby, but you have the prettiest laugh of all."

[miistersunshin3]

Star Struck ☆

Sal Fisher x meangirl!reader

a/n : Hihi my first work on this acc!! Thank you for the motivation and inspo @baxndaid ╰(*´︶`*)╯ If you like my work feel free to send me requests!!

- Life at Nockfell High is like a game and you don’t play to lose, in your first year you and your friends have already made an image of yourself: you are known as the popular kids or rather the mean girls.

- It was quite easy to archive this image of yours, you have quite the nice figure; shiny hair which always looks perfect and your most envious trait: a gorgeous face with a pearly white smile.

- So with all these traits that made you the person you are, you were quickly proclaimed to be the Queen bee of Nockfell high.

- It seemed like every girl wanted to be you and every guy wanted to be with you!

- except for one specific group… your friends call them the freaks, the group consisting of Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell and Todd Morrison.

- You’d often make fun of them for various things, like their lack of style or music taste as you would say. So no wonder they didn’t quite like you.

…………………………………………………………………………….

- So one day while walking up to your locker which was right next to Larry’s your surprised to see a new kid, Larry called him Sally face.

- He seemed to have blue hair which was tied in pigtails and wore a mask that covers his whole face, you didn’t pay any mind to him except for when one of your friends spoke:

“Ugh great, the one time we get a new kid in school and he immediately needs to make friends with the freaks”

“Well would you rather him make friends with us? I wouldn’t, look at him” your other friend speaks.

“Yeah you’re right, are you some kind of creep? You look weird with that mask” the first one asks him in a sarcastic tone.

“Well at least none of us have to take two hours before school to get ready to have friends” Ashley says in a snarky tone.

“Oh shut it Campbell, some of us actually care about looking presentable, unlike you..” you say with a smile while walking away with your friends chuckling.

- Well yeah.. let’s just say Sal didn’t really find you all that amusing to be around.

- But at lunch times he just couldn’t help starting at you: the way your hair sits oh so perfectly on your head, the way the color your wearing makes your best features stand out beautifully and the way when your laughing the people are able to see your charming smile (even if it sometimes was him and his friends you were laughing about)

- And the poor boy thought you wouldn’t notice him staring, but you noticed it all and lowkey (highkey) found it cute and kind of pathetic how mesmerized he looked.

…………………………………………………………………………….

- One afternoon when the whole gang was hanging out in Larry’s room, Ashley asked Sal if he found anyone in school cute.

- And well….i hate to break it to you Ash (*´ー｀*)

“Cmon Sally tell usss, we deserve to know” she says in a slightly demanding tone.

“Yeah dude we won’t judge” Larry chimed in.

And then the dam broke..

“…you can’t be serious right now Sal” Ash says in disbelief.

“Dude like for real are you okay? Really? Her? She torments you like every day.. and her friends are massive assholes” Larry adds.

Sal just shrugs, all of the sudden finding the carpet very interesting.

…………………………………………………………………………….

- When they got back to school the next week of course you hadn’t decided to stop what you were so passionate about doing; pulling on his backpack to make him stumble back and then adding a snarky comment like “Watch your feet Sally face” while chuckling, flicking his head or pulling on one of his pigtails to set him off guard or just generally making fun of his prosthetic with your friends.

- To be completely honest even if it’s a cliche, you just wanted a reaction out of him because you just found it to amusing when he’d get all stuttery after you’d say something to him, even though he wouldn’t react like that if it was someone else saying that to him.

- But what would happen on Thursday, he could have only dreamt of..

Once again Travis was being his usual self when finding Sally and Larry in the hall during one of the breaks. “Why do you even come to school, nobody wants to see that freakshow of a ‘face’. You’re a waste of space Fisher, always will be” he spat at him.

You on the other hand were just in the bathroom, near where they were standing, overhearing everything. For some reason you felt angry, at Travis that is… why did you feel like this?

You decide to say something too, in your typical fashion.

Walking past them you purposely bump into Travis, stop walking and snarl out

“Watch out Phelps, you’re standing in my way. Oh and by the way.. only I get to say stuff like that, you understand?”

As you continue to walk past them you look back only to see Sal looking at you as well, you turn back around, after sending him a quick teasing smile and a small wink that is. (^_−)−☆

You may have not seen it but after you turn around Sal is beet red under his prosthetic, I guess it does come in handy sometimes…

…………………………………………………………………………….

A/N : I hope you guys liked it! Like I said feel free to send me requests (^^)v

Reader and Sal:

[13rurururi]

Haganezuka Hotaru Having a Crush on Being In Love with You (SFW)

Pairing: Haganezuka x Fem!Reader

Requests are open!

Whenever you're in close proximity, this man tries his absolute hardest to appear as nonchalant as possible — thank heavens for his mask, or else you'd instantly see his beet-red face.

Haganezuka is someone who lives on extreme emotions; from his rage towards Tanjiro breaking his craft to him feeling like his heart is about to burst from his chest whenever you smile at him — you have him (unknowingly) wrapped around your finger.

You may think he absolutely doesn't care for you, but he isn't the type to verbally express his affection; instead, he'd give you small gifts (like the last stick of Mitarashi Dango) or offer to polish your katana. This man's time is precious, but he'd always set aside time for you.

Once you got closer with one another, you opted to call him by his first name, Hotaru. The first time you uttered his name, you were undoubtedly worried he'd throw a fit because of how cute and unbefitting it is for a swordsmith like him. Surprisingly, he only grumbled and looked away (he was absolutely blushing, by the way).

You continue to call him Hotaru, and the villagers around you are so wary whenever you do so but end up pleasantly surprised to see how calmly Hotaru responds to your beckon. He's so smitten for you.

He's also quite the jealous type, seething in quiet rage towards anyone who dares flirt with you. You better be certain he has his four knives out and sharpened.

You really began seeing him as a close friend, as you've shared many afternoons together, talking about how each other's day went. You definitely laugh in endearment as he rants to you about his client (poor Tanjiro).

You were satisfied with your connection until, one day, Haganezuka built up the courage to tell you — in the most stiff, straightforward, yet genuine manner — that he is in love with you.

Let's not lie. You were surprised, to say the least. Haganezuka never showed any desire to be entangled in a romantic relationship. Kanamori even occasionally mentions how his rough, difficult personality is the main cause of his bachelor status at the age of 37.

Your entire image of him was simply upended once he muttered out his confession, his gaze faltering to your side, unable to maintain contact with your widened eyes.

You've always found him absolutely stunning under his peculiar mask — his amber irises framed by his upturned eyes; his pretty lashes that greatly contrasted his constantly furrowed brow; not to mention, his long, smooth raven-colored hair that cascaded down his muscular back — he was undoubtedly attractive.

You felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of other women staring at his figure with evident interest.

You also funnily felt pride at the fact that they most likely could never truly handle the entirety of Haganezuka Hotaru — they weren't like you, who could calm him with the sound of your voice (as if you were the embodiment of a wind chime) or patiently sit with him as he yelled about his annoyances.

Maybe he wasn't just a friend, after all.

"Forget what I said,"

Haganezuka twisted his figure to steadily walk away from you, but you grasped onto his firm bicep to cease his escape.

He looked at you in mild bewilderment, simultaneously worried and hopeful with what your response might be.

You smiled your ever-so-gentle smile — the same smile he fell in love with and said,

"I like you, too, Hotaru."

Haganezuka's face held the most wonderful expression you have ever seen, and you were stuck between wanting to stare at his face for the next few minutes and the desire to kiss his lips that fell agape.

No worries. Hotaru decided for both of you and held you close as your lips met his for the very first time.

And it definitely will not be the last.

A/N: I am so in love with this man right now; my head is full of him. Please feel free to send requests! If you want an NSFW version, I am more than willing to serve, hehe.

[matchingbatbites]

Inspired by this post by @callmeloverr This wasn't what I planned on doing tonight but oh well

When Steve pulled up to Family Video for his 8am shift, he had expected a few things. The dark, closed store, maybe some trash on the sidewalk he'd have to pick up or be bitched at about, you know, normal things to expect for the opening shift.

He hadn't been expecting to see Eddie Munson sitting up against the side of the building with one hand shoved into the overnight return slot. The guy looks half asleep, although he jerks fully awake when Steve closes his car door a little louder than normal.

"You know," Steve starts, smiling as he approaches the other man, "most people drop off their movies without sticking their entire hand into the slot. Just for future reference."

Eddie flushes and scrubs his free hand over his face, and Steve just barely hears something about hands and tight spaces before the man says "Look, this is so fucking embarrassing, but I've been stuck here since last night and I really want to go home and sleep. Are you gonna help me or what, Harrington?"

Steve hums and crosses his arms. "Normally when you want something from someone, it helps to be nice to them, Munson. Why don't you try a 'please' and we'll see how I feel after that?"

He watches as Eddie rolls his eyes heavily before looking up at Steve from under his lashes. Steve's heart skips a beat under the full force of big, brown, puppy dog eyes - an established weakness that Dustin loves to exploit - and it only gets worse when Eddie says "Please, Steve? I've been stuck out here for so long, can't you please help me out?"

Fuck, now Steve is the one blushing.

He turns to unlock the door, hoping to hide the red he knows is covering his cheeks and ears, and he slips inside to the sound of Eddie's indignant "Steve? Hey!" Steve ignores it and goes to the drop off box, unlocking it with the key and opening it to reveal Eddie's stuck hand.

"Hang on, don't get your panties in a bunch," he says, grabbing Eddie's hand and coaxing it to relax from the fist it's currently curled into. He hears Eddie's soft "Oh," as the hand unclenches, and says "I think your rings are keeping you stuck, I'm going to take them off, okay?"

When he gets the OK from Eddie, he starts slipping off the rings one by one. It feels intimate in a way, as Steve devotes his attention to each ring as he pulls it off, and he wonders if Eddie feels the same way. He wonders if anyone else has done this for Eddie in a different setting, takes the thought I wonder if he leaves them on during sex and shoves it into a dark corner.

There's always been something about Eddie, something that made Steve curious, made him question himself during the darkest parts of the night. He feels the full brunt of it now as he kneels on the floor of the Family Video, slender fingers wrapped in his own and unfamiliar metal weighing heavy in his palm.

Steve tries to focus on the task at hand - take off the rings, get Eddie unstuck - even as he finds himself distracted by Eddie's fingers. They're shorter than his own, and a little skinnier, and they're rough and calloused in certain spots. Something about Eddie playing guitar flickers in the forefront of Steve's mind, and he thinks he'd like to see that, to watch these fingers glide over the instrument with an expert touch.

He expects Eddie to pull away when the last ring is gone, but he doesn't. The hand stays in Steve's, and Steve can't help but to brush his thumb over Eddie's knuckles as he pushes away the brief thought he has of brushing his lips over them instead.

Steve swallows hard and gives the hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it as he says "Try- uh, try it now." Eddie's hand slides free from its prison and Steve doesn't move from his spot until he hears the bell on the door chime.

He turns to face Eddie and genuinely prays that his own face isn't as pink as the other man's as he holds out the rings. "Uh, here you go," he says lamely, and Eddie gives a soft "Thanks," as he takes them and slips them back on.

They stand there for a moment, the air between them a little awkward until Eddie jerks his head towards the door. "I'm gonna, uh, head home. Get some sleep. Thanks for helping me out, Steve."

"Yeah, it was no problem, Eddie," Steve replies, smiling when Eddie's face gets pinker, and the man nods once before heading out the door. Steve watches him go for a moment before he catches himself, and he shakes his head quickly to get his thoughts back in order.

He goes to start his opening duties, trying his best to put brown eyes and slender fingers out of his mind, but it's only a few minutes later when he hears a thunk from the return box, and he goes over to it, curious.

Sitting on the stack of returned tapes is a little ball of paper, and when Steve unrolls it, one of Eddie's chunky, silver rings falls into his palm. On the paper is a slightly rushed phone number along with a 'Call me tonight?' and Steve grins. His day is shaping up to be better than he expected.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Merry and Bright

Day 9 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (The Rookie)

Summary: You invite Tim over on Christmas Eve, but he says he's working. A Christmas miracle occurs and Tim knocks on your door, presents in tow.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: so much fluff. How the Grinch Stole Christmas references. Tim is probably OOC. I made up some stuff about Tim and his sister.

A/N: I haven't written for Tim Bradford yet, so please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'd like to keep writing for him and try to capture his amazing character better so please feel free to send requests if you have any!

Masterlist Directory | Request Info (& full fandom list)

Since you inserted yourself into Tim’s life, barging your way in with a basket of goodies after moving in next door, he has quickly become one of your best friends. If he’s undeniably handsome and one of the most caring men you’ve ever met despite his grumpy exterior, so what? You asked yourself that the first time you invited him over for dinner, but now it’s a weekly occurrence, and it is your week to cook.

Your favorite one-pan dish is in the oven, and the game is queued on your television, but all that’s missing is Tim Bradford. As you decorated for Christmas this year, you thought about him and how his sister isn’t coming to LA for the holidays, leaving him alone. You’ve since decided to do something about that.

“Anyone home?” Tim asks as he opens your door. “Because I know I’ve told you more times than I can count to lock your door.”

You look around the corner and smile at him as you argue, “My neighbor’s a cop, it’ll be fine.”

“Sergeant, not a cop.”

“My apologies, Sergeant Bradford.”

He smiles at you, less rare than it used to be, but a moment you take the time to appreciate, never knowing when he will grace you with another one.

“So, I know your sister isn’t visiting,” you begin, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending Christmas here?”

Tim glances at your Christmas tree before answering. “I would love to, and I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me and offering, but I’m working Christmas Eve.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding as you smile. “I just wanted to extend the invitation.”

You turn around to remove dinner from the oven, and Tim places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“Thank you,” he repeats quietly and bordering on reverent. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

“I’m sorry. I would come if I could.”

“Tim, it’s fine. I’ll just have to give you your giant stack of gifts later,” you tease.

Tim nods, removing his hand from your arm and watching you turn away, his heart trying to decide whether it wants to shrink or grow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, are you good?” Wade asks as he leaves the station.

“Fantastic,” he mumbles. Wade looks at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before saying, “I just wish I could be somewhere else. I’m glad I could help out the officers with families, with kids, and give them the night off, but…”

“You’re regretting it?” Wade finishes.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, if you want to come over when you get off, we’ll leave the lights on,” Wade offers.

“Thanks,” Tim says. He doesn’t add: I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be.

Someone walks up behind Tim and places a Santa hat on his head.

“Cheer up, Grinchy,” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Merry Christmas, Tim!”

“Yeah,” Tim says, more to himself than her.

“Dude, we need to find you a K9 named Max, finish off the Grinch look,” Aaron teases, sitting next to Tim as his shift begins. He’s working tonight for the same reason Tim is: to let the officers with families spend Christmas with their loved ones.

“Oh, should we get him a little heart pin, too, and try to make it grow?” Nolan chimes in.

“Sorry, Bradford, but you’re just so… Grinchy,” Aaron says.

Tim laughs, shaking his head as the Santa hat shifts with his movement. Nolan and Aaron look at each other in horror and amusement at the fact that Tim Bradford, who is wearing a Santa hat, just laughed. Tim, however, is only thinking of you and how you’d absolutely agree with them. Although, if you were here, or if he was with you, he wouldn’t be quite so Grinchy.

“Merry Christmas, LAPD!” Officer Jan announces, entering the station in a full Santa costume. “I have come to relieve one lucky soul of Christmas Eve duty.”

“Bradford!” Aaron and Nolan yell. “He has somewhere to be.”

“How do you-?” Tim asks.

“It’s all over your face,” Aaron says as Nolan answers, “Go get her… whoever she is.”

Tim looks at Jan, who nods encouragingly. Tim jumps to his feet and runs to his locker. He’s heading home for Christmas, but he has one stop. As he changes before climbing in his truck, he makes a mental list of everything he needs. Merry Christmas to all, Tim thinks.

✯✯✯✯✯

You smile at the ending of the Christmas movie on your television, your thoughts drifting to Tim as you wonder what it would be like to have him here. As you try to focus on the movie again, someone knocks on your door.

When you open it, you don’t expect to see Tim in a Santa hat and holding several gift bags. Your eyes widen, and your smile returns as you let him in, closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly before he gets the chance. His arms wrap around you, loosely at first, before tightening when a Christmas song begins playing through your speakers as the credits roll. 

“I brought gifts,” he says against your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to see you,” you reply.

He squeezes you once more, and you slowly step back, pulling out of the hug and looking up into Tim’s eyes.

“You brought hot chocolate?” you ask, stealing a peek into one of the bags.

“It’s Christmas,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I’m not always.”

You smile and gesture for him to follow you, leading him into the kitchen and pulling two Christmas-themed mugs from your cupboard.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After making the hot chocolate, you return to the couch and turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas as you resist leaning into Tim’s side.

“This is one of my favorites,” he says quietly, “my sister and I watched it every time it was on cable growing up.”

“It’s a classic,” you agree.

“We would watch it, drink hot cocoa or cider, whatever was in the kitchen, and exchange one gift on Christmas Eve,” Tim adds.

“Do you want to open a gift?” you ask, facing him. “There’s only a few hours until Christmas anyway.”

Tim thinks for a moment and then smiles at you. “Just one.”

You stand, retrieving a small box from under the tree while he pulls a gift from one of the bags. When you sit back down, you sit a little closer than before. He opens his present first, smiling and leaning in to hug you as he thanks you. When you open yours, you see a gift you’ve wanted for years but no one ever remembered. You start to thank him, but something happens along the way, and instead, your lips land on his. His hand raises to your arm as he reciprocates, but you realise your mistake (was it really a mistake? you ask yourself) and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His hand slides up your arm to rest at the back of your neck. You see a new smile as he pulls you back in. Pressing your hand against his chest, you stop yourself.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Have you ever seen me so merry and bright?” he asks, his smile the widest you’ve ever seen.

You pick up the pompom at the end of his Santa hat and chuckle. “You are pretty cuddly,” you reply, noticing his other arm has wrapped around your waist. 

He rolls his eyes, still smiling as he kisses you again. You shift backward, your hand landing on the remote and resuming the movie. Tim laughs as he pulls back, pulling you against him.

“How’d you get off work?” you ask.

“Jan came in and offered to cover for one of us, and I was volunteered because I was being too ‘Grinchy.’”

You gasp in faux surprise. “Tim Bradford? You? Grinchy? I can’t imagine it.”

He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him again, your new favorite pastime.

“Thank you for coming. This is the best Christmas ever,” you say against his lips.

“Until next year?” Tim asks.

“What happens next year?”

“We’ll see.”

“And for now we’re merry and bright?” you respond.

“The merriest and the brightest,” Tim jokes, pulling you against his side as Charlie Brown appears on screen.

Merry and Bright, indeed.

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

[hereforhalstead]

Pretty Girl

I’ll be honest, it’s midnight and I can’t sleep so here you go!

I also didn’t really imagine Jay for this (it was actually Trevor Wagner lol) so I didn’t use any names but feel free to picture detective chuckles in your reading!

also, if you think it’s rubbish. I agree but what are we gonna do?!

*****

‘I cant believe I’m gonna text him’ 

You scoffed to yourself, eyeing the phone you held in your hand, thumb hovering over his name on your chat list on whatsapp. Almost daring yourself not to give into the desires you knew you craved and that he could so easily fulfil.

‘are you awake?’

You sounded like a foolish teenager, thinking that sounded better than the stereotypical ‘you up?’ at 3am text. Spoiler alert, it didn’t.

You almost threw your phone on the ground, it landing face up beside you as your knees were instinctively bought to your chest in panic, regretting sending the text as soon as you pressed send. 

Almost instantly, the phone lit up. You could see it from the corner of your eye, reluctant to look down.

You peered over your arm, wincing as you read the message through squinted eyes.

‘Of course, darling’

Your heart melted, your stomach flipped, your heart rate quickened. 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t feel this way.

He told you not to fall for him. 

Yet what did you do, oh yeah. 

You fell absolutely head over heels, 100%, life consumingly in love with him. Good one. 

Mere moments had passed, you hadn’t unlocked the phone as you sat and mustered a response. 

He hardly gave you much to go from, did you completely out yourself and admit why you messaged him or did you play it off with a simple ‘cool’?

Your phone once again, lit up in your hand. Your eyes darting to the screen without a second thought or hesitation as you scanned the words on the screen.

‘any particular reason you wanted to know, pretty girl?’

Shit, even through a screen he had you backed against a virtual wall. Making the hunger for him to have you actually pushed up against a wall, ten times more intense. 

‘just wondered if you wanted to come over, cant sleep’

You laughed at the innocent sad face added to the end, feeling the complete opposite and knowing he would see through it.

The grey ticks turned to blue as soon as you sent the message, quickly exiting out of the chat as though you didn’t want to seem desperate. 

Not like your phone was now stuck to your hand with your eyes not leaving the screen as you wait for his response. 

‘Poor baby, not sure how I would be able to help though?’

You could practically see the smug grin on his face, arm folded behind his head to prop himself up against the headboard of the bed. Thumb dancing over the keypad as he probably typed out all the ways in which he could help, before deleting them as if nothing happened.

‘oh no!’

You yet again, sarcastically added the exclamation. Clearly having too much fun with the situation yourself now.

‘guess I will just have to try someone else’

Ordinarily you wouldn’t have sent such a text, you didn’t have anyone else you could ask, the ‘lucky’ bunch stored in your phone who you could text at early hours of the morning to come over.

Even if you did, you wouldn’t want anyone else. Just him. 

You wanted to see how far you could push him, knowing the way his eyes would’ve darkened with reading the message.

Probably reading it a few times to ensure he read it right, phone clutched in his hand, bringing it up to his pursed lips in frustration. 

It took a significantly less amount of time to yet again see ‘typing’, flash up next to his name on the chat. Your heart rate though the roof as you hear your phone chime.

‘darling you are funny, we both know you wouldn’t dare’.

You sat on his response for a minute or two, letting him sweat as he could see you’d read the message. 

‘goodnight sweet cheeks’

You were proud of yourself for your blunt response, even if he didn’t reply, you’d sure be obscenely offended but you wouldn’t be shocked. 

If he had sent you a message even close to that, the phone probably would’ve been launched across the room and loud groan that could’ve been heard from down the corridor of your apartment building. 

The grey ticks, stayed grey for what felt like an eternity. In fact, you stared at the screen for 4 solid minutes, waiting. 

You huffed, regretting your text. Had you ruined it? Took it too far?

He could be an annoying prick sometimes and knew exactly how to push your buttons, especially when it came to making you jealous but in all honestly you couldn’t imagine him sending you a message like the one you had sent.

The room was silent, you took yourself over to the mirror as if you needed to take a long hard look at yourself, but in actual fact you just chuckled. Grow up. 

You needed to test him, needed to see how he felt. If he wanted you, he would. 

Simple as that. 

If you were going to keep falling for him, the least you could do was find out if you were both kind of on the same page, even the same book would be good! 

You continued to stare in the mirror as you got ready for bed, accepting your defeat and pondering on how you’ll deal with such rejection on a clear mind in the morning.

Scraping your hair into a ponytail, you saw your phone light up on the bed. Seeing his name flash at the top of the screen with the green and red ‘accept’, ‘decline’ buttons staring you in the face.

You froze. 

He knew you hated phone calls, especially when he hadn’t told you he was going to call. Prick.

Your thumb hit the accept button before your brain could scream at you to let it go to voicemail, holding the phone to your ear to hear that raspy voice you so desperately craved.

‘I’m outside, little one. You gonna come and let me in or should I try buzzing someone else?’

[theosphobia]

Hello rvbblr, rvb tumblr, the 3 people always liking my posts.

I bring my first ever fanfiction. and its rvb. idk how ao3 works so im just gonna drop it in here and hope thats accceptable.... erm... anyways

Everyone got seperated; the reds and blues were scattered in a pirate stronghold. Their long range comms were down and pirates lurked around every corner trying to hunt the sim troopers down.

Washington had just survived a scuffle, breaking into a run as he heard familiar shouting not too far off. Just around a couple shipping containers, Wash found Caboose standing over a pirate, Freckles' barrel smoking from fresh fire.

The blue caught the solider in the side of his vision and raised the ai-assisted rifle towards him, confetti dispersed from the gun.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Agent Washington! Uhm, he was like that when I got here."

Wash pushed the thought of Caboose firing at him away, he was just glad to see a friendly face.

"Caboose! Have you seen anyone else?" Wash asked, jogging up to the larger character.

Caboose looked back down at the pirate he was resting his foot on,

"On our team Caboose."

"Oh! No." Caboose shook his head and moved away from the body, sizing up to Wash.

"Are you doing okay? You hurt anywhere?" Wash started to walk and the other followed closely.

"I'm a little stressed out... and hungry.." he started. "We should find Griff next!"

Wash chuckled and patted Caboose on the back, "Hey Freckles?" The gun chimed in response, "can you find any other friendly contacts?"

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 356m away. Identification: Lavernius Tucker."

"Awesome, Can you guide us to him?" Wash asked. The custom laser sight on the rifle turned on and pointed forward. Caboose stared curiously, turning the gun from side to side, the line remained aimed toward its original path. Caboose gave a coo of amazement.

"Lets get going, the sooner we find the others the better."

--

Wash and Caboose followed Freckles' guide until they hit a large pond in the cave; they could see the remainder of the pirate stronghold on the otherside, but the water seemed to stretch to the walls, and they couldn't see the bottom. The laser ran true straight across the water.

Washington stopped for a moment to think while Caboose took a couple steps into the pond.

"I saw something over here! It might be those sim troopers!"

A voiced called from not too far away. Wash cursed to himself, a group of red dots were moving towards them on his motion tracker.

"Maybe they know how we can get across!" Caboose cheered, turning around towards the noise and started walking. Wash caught him by the arm,

"Caboose no they're trying to kill us remember?"

"Oh yeah.."

"There's no time, we're just gonna have to go through it." Wash sighed, leading the blue giant back towards the water and stepping in.

"Uhm I can't swim very well.." Caboose started, standing a bit back from Wash.

"We're not swimming, our suits will recycle air for a while, we should just be able to walk along the bottom." Washington informed him. The other man didn't argue, stashed Freckles, and followed along, both of the started to move as fast as they could in half-ton armour in water as the shouting grew louder.

They were fully submerged for a while before Wash started to notice something wrong, he was wet.

"Uh 'boose.... buddy, not to scare you or anything but I think my armour is filling up with water." Wash could feel a cut in his kevlar around his neck. He must have gotten it in that fight earlier.

"Wuh oh.." Caboose had stopped and turned to look at Wash, somehow he had managed to be moving faster than the freelancer. "Should we go back?" There was a tinge of panic in his voice.

"We can't... we just have to move faster, it can't be that much farther now" He tried holding his hand to seal the hole but water still managed to seep through his fingers, the water was hitting his waist now.

Caboose nodded and reached back, grabbing Wash's free hand, and started pulling him along so their treck sped up.

At some point, the weight behind him stalled.

"Agent Washington?"

"It's in my helmet."

Wash couldn't see, but Caboose's eyes widened. He moved closer to Washington,

"Freckles uhm.. how much further?" The blue asked as he began picking up Wash and slinging him over his shoulder without protest.

"Nearest Friendly Tag is 189m away"

Panic was rising in his voice, "okay thank you Freckles!" His speed was considerably lessened with the extra weight but that didn't stop Caboose from making his strides as quick as possible.

--

Wash had stopped responding about halfway from their predictament. Caboose didn't stop moving until they breached the shore on the other side.

Caboose laid Washington on the ground and unholstered Freckles, laying it behind them.

"Freckles you lookout for bad guys."

"Affirmative."

Oh crap oh crap oh crap... Caboose's hands shook as his fingers fumbled with the clasps on Wash's helmet and chestplate.

Water poured out as the seals broke, Wash's hair clung to his forehead. His chest laid still.

What do I do what do I do?? Think Michael think!! Caboose tried to remember what Doc had taught them ages ago. CPR CPR...

"First check to see if they're breathing! If they're not then you'll probably have to perform CPR. Since Grif already knows how to do it he'll be my demonstration."

Caboose glanced at the still freelancer, his chest was still, their chest moves when they breath right?

"Remember, you guys are wearing half-ton armour so you won't have to compress as hard as you would if you weren't. You should press down twice per second, there's songs that help but Beyoncé is timeless so we're gonna use Crazy In Love." Caboose positioned himself above Wash, tried to remember the correct hand shape, and hovered above the freelancer's chest. What if I mess up I don't want to kill Wash he's not special like Church is... he won't come back..

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He started compressing, finding it easier to just count than remember Doc's silly song.

"Every 30 or so compressions try and give rescue breaths! Tilt their head back a little while pinching their nose to open their airway. Then you're gonna blow into their mouth a normal amount just enough so their chest rises; do that twice. If it doesn't rise make sure they don't have anything stuck in their throat. Grif is that gum I see in there?"

Caboose quickly brought his face to Wash's, blood splattered across his visor.

"Haha whoops sorry Washington!" He brought his hands back to unclasp his own helmet and set it to the side; turning back to brush away some of the bloody nose with his hand.

Caboose lingered slightly, he could feel the air around them now, he could also feel the lack of air coming from Wash's mouth. He cradled the back of Wash's neck in his hand, pinched his nose with the other and started his rescue breaths.

He fell into autopilot, repeating the steps in his mind over and over as he did them until a sharp breath came from Washington, as did a mouthful of cave pond water.

Caboose helped him sit up as Wash coughed up his missing breaths; his gaze fixated on the older man's movement.

"Caboose?" The blue's eyes bore into Wash, he seemed terrified. The feeling broke at the sound of his name however.

"Agent Washington you're okay! You should avoid drinking pond water, I don't think it's good for you." There was smeared blood on Caboose's face, Wash dipped his hand into the water and rubbed it against the stain.

"How'd you get blood on you 'Boose? Where's your helmet?" The other blue wore his helmet so often it was rare to see his face, his hair had gotten a bit longer and Wash could see wearing smile lines from his angle.

"Oh uhm! So when we got out of the water you weren't breathing so I tried to give you Cee Pee Arr but I forgot to take my helmet off! So now you have a bloody nose and you shared it with me when I gave you rescuing breaths!" He smiled, reaching beside him to grab his helm and snapped it back on, his second face returned.

Wash rubbed the back of his hand against his face, his helmet was off as well, and his own blood smeared against the glove.

"Holy shit you saved my life Caboose."

"I did?" His head tilted and he perked up again."I did! Oh my god does that mean my team kills go down? Because I saved you?"

Wash chuckled, clasping his breastplate back on and grabbing his helmet.

"Sure it does."

"Oh! You should probably cover that hole in case we have to go swimming again, Church always packed some for me..." Caboose dug around in his utility belt and procured a large patch used for underarmour sealing; he handed it to Wash and watched as the freelancer slapped it against his neck and rubbed it down.

"Geez thanks Caboose, you're really on it today." Wash said as brushed his hair back and locked his helm back in place.

Caboose wiggled from his seated position, paused, and grabbed Freckles before firing behind him.

Confetti dispersed from the rifle.

"Friendly Signature Detected."

"Caboose what the hell?! Did you really just try to shoot me?"

"Hi Tucker!"

[sanjifucker42069]

Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Part Two

Word Count: 1.4k

Part 1

A belated and awkward part 2. I’ll start writing part 3 in the morning (it’s like 1am lmao)

For those who need a visual aid, here. (oof feels like wattpad or quotev but girlypops i am cringe but i am free. it isnt a perfect representation, but its pretty accurate. titilating, no? ;) )

Warnings: Lingerie lmao…this is pretty short, and is just a set-up for part 3. A lot of this is my own feelings surrounding cis men in lingerie. As with part 1 gender neutral reader. Yeah! Hope you enjoy!

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

Sanji couldn't stop thinking about it. You thought he'd look hot in lingerie? You thought he looked slutty?

It had overtaken every waking moment. Any time he wasn't focused on a task all he could see was the dumb stare you gave him, eyes focused on his thighs.

He'd love to wear lingerie for you if it meant you'd stare at him like that.

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

The Going Merry was docked, the Straw Hats carrying out their duties, and Sanji had a plan.

"I'm gonna go shopping. You coming (Name)? Sanji can carry our bags." Nami preened, looking absolutely glowing at the prospect of new clothes. Sanji bit his lip. He wanted to go with Nami and you, really he did, but if either of you caught on he'd die of embarrassment.

"You okay, Ji?"

Huh?

You were asking something.

"What? Oh, yeah, love. I'm fine. I'm afraid I have business to attend to on the island."

You blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile up at him. He was smitten, his fortitude nearly wavering. "Of course. You do what you gotta do!"

Business his ass. Instead he hurried to check out the town.

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

A small, seedy shop tucked away in an alley. Sanji entered the store warily. A small, old woman trotted out from the back. Sanji blanched. He didn't want to discuss this with a grandma! 

"Hello young man, here for something for your wife?"

Sanji felt himself flush. He tried to wander around the store. "No, no-"

"Your girlfriend then?" 

Ah. This grandmother didn't know when to quit.

"Not exactly?"

The old lady grabbed his arm. Sanji raised a brow, turning back to her. She was grinning at him, eyes narrowed and sparkling with something he couldn't place.

"Is it for you? Such a handsome young man as yourself." 

What? Sanji's face was on fire. He was flustered beyond belief. His hands were lightly shaking, eyes darting around for anyone else in the store.

"Come with me darling. My name's Bea." The old lady chimed, dragging Sanji with her. "What colour were you thinking?"

"Oh, um." Sanji was panicking, voice high. Did she even have lingerie for men? "Blue?" 

Bea hummed. "I do have blue, but I have a lovely pink set that would just make your skin pop."

Pink? Sanji didn't think it was possible to flush darker, and yet here he was. "I, uh, would it even fit me?"

"Of course sonny! You're quite slim." Bea swatted at his arm, patting his biceps for good measure as she led him through the store. "So, tell me about the lucky one."

"They're beautiful." Sanji began dreamily. Where should he even start? "The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid my eyes on. They have this laugh that just brightens up any room, and such a sense of humour. I’ve been smitten with them since I met them.”

“You two aren’t together?”

Sanji shook his head sadly. “No, no. We’re just good friends. They, uh… Do you know what shirt stays are?”

Bea laughed, patting the cook on the arm. “Say no more.”

She let go of him when they reached the back of the store. Sanji watched nervously as she carded through a rack of, well, did it really constitute clothing? Skimpy piece after skimpy piece were revealed.

And then he saw it.

It was a gorgeous baby pink. Bea ahhed as she removed it from the rack, holding it up to inspect it. She turned to face him, sizing him up next to the set. Sanji felt his throat go dry as he really took it in.

The set was a simple baby pink bralette, made from some kind of sheer lacy material with a flower motif. The plunging neckline was created to draw attention to the cleavage, and it was adorned with some delicate string of pearl-like decoration to highlight the collarbones. The panties were the same sheer material, clear that they weren’t to hide much. The sides of it were accentuated with cute ruffles that further added a feminine touch. Sanji felt lightheaded. 

Finally, it was a beautiful pastel garter belt that sat in the middle, completing the look. It too was made from the same stretchy, sheer lace. It would wrap around the waist, strategic cutouts to accentuate the waist, hips, and the bellybutton. The central cutout had a simple chain of pearls to add interest and movement. Four satin-looking ribbons led from bottom front and back, with clips attached to hold up stockings.

Oh, maybe his shirt stays were kinda…

Nonetheless, it was breathtaking. Sanji had clearly marvelled at it for too long, as Bea chuckled, causing him to flush red. The old woman, lingerie in hand, led him to a mirror. 

“I’m…I can’t.”

Bea just chuckled, holding the hanger up against him. “Look in the mirror boy, I’ve been making lingerie for fifty years. This suits you.”

Sanji obeyed her, staring at himself in the mirror. What he saw took his breath away. He looked a mess, face red and hair messy. He had to hand it to the old woman, the colour was flattering against him. Even the cut looked good. Sanji shifted from foot to foot, anxiety creeping in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about looking so…so feminine. 

Sanji was a man. It wouldn’t be right for him to wear something so delicate and gorgeous. Right? Of course women’s clothing was beautiful, the fabrics they used, the stylish designs he’d seen the girls on the ship sport. Men’s clothing just, well it was meant to be masculine and boring. Right? He couldn’t let himself give in to that want to feel pretty, that would be wrong.

Right?

Bea, clearly noticing his inner struggle, scoffed.

“Sonny.”

“Sanji.” “Right. Sonny, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “You, uh, you already said that.”

“I know that!” Bea snapped, swatting at him. Sanji’s gaze drifted back to the pink lace. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I started, well, I made boring beige bras and the same lacy black underwear again, and again, and again. I got bored. I got creative! And when I got creative, I became determined to make people feel pretty. People, Sonny, not women.”

Sanji went rigid, his throat was so dry. Was he that obvious? All he could make out was a simple, “Oh?”

Bea grinned. “Everyone deserves the right to feel pretty.” Sanji opened his mouth to speak but the old woman just held up a wrinkled hand. “Nope. Don’t care if you’re a ‘man’. Everyone. Sonny, one day you’ll realise that being a ‘man’ is more than just grunting like an ape, or never showing any vulnerability, or even having a penis. Man is a state of mind, and Sonny, the sooner you feel comfortable in who you are, the more beautiful life is going to be for you.”

Sanji felt breathless. “Really?”

“Really.” Bea nodded, a fondness in her eyes. “Come, we’ll get you a choker to go with it, I have just the one.”

Sanji felt a million miles away as Bea led him to the shop counter. She handled a delicate pink satin choker with care, presenting it to him. It was a giant bow, a simple snap holding it in place around the neck. Simple, but delicate. If Sanji was honest with himself, he liked it.

“Like a million berry! Your precious one will love you in it!” Bea smiled fondly at him. “So, Sonny, you buying?”

Sanji sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was foreign to him, a shakiness underlying the wispiness. Sanji felt like he was treading water, unsure and scared of the newness of it all. He could drown at any moment.

“Yeah.”

“Good, good!”

So Sanji paid. Bea took extra care to wrap the lingerie up in a delicate pink tissue paper. His own little present. She then promptly put it in an unmarked bag. She understood, shooting him a wink.

“So, anyone, huh?”

“Oh yes, yes. You see, originally I made them for my girlfriend when I was a much younger lady. She was a farmer’s daughter, wonderful girl, shared many a kiss with her, and then some! Now I make these lovely ones for my current husband. You remind me a lot of him, Sonny. You see he lets me wear this harness thing that I put in his a-”

“Thank you grandma, I’ll be out of here now!”

“Yes, yes. Good luck, Sonny! Stop by with your sweetie and get something nice one day, okay?” Bea waved her goodbyes from the doorway, smiling that same sweet old woman smile. Sanji clutched the bag to his chest tightly. 

Right. Time to put the plan into place.

[thethreeeyed-raven]

Hi !!! First I wanna say that I love the aesthetic of ur account it’s so pretty and nicely put together I’m obsessed. Second, I was wondering if I could request something for a Legolas x half elf reader where the reader is very like, unladylike, and doesn’t follow elven traditions ?? Like she’s very brash, flirts with lots of people, drinks a lot, doesn’t really have any of that elegance or poise that he’s used to when it comes to eleven girls and is a extremely good fighter. She’s a trusted friend of Gandalf and he brings her to the council of Elrond and she joins the fellowship and all dat.

Ok I’m done sorry if that’s too detailed feel free to not write it if you don’t want to, don’t want you to feel pressured to jus cause I asked 😅

i think you are beautiful

navigation | warnings : gimlis a little bitch, a little bit of angst? a little bit of gimli/dwarf slander😭 | a/n : if this isn’t what you want then i’m sorry😭, also of the elvish is wrong PLEASE LMK i literally used an sindarin, i kind of forgot about the flirty part and half elf part, but it’s mentioned a little bit, i asp used british slang for ‘hello’ IM BRITISH | lotr masterlist | tags : @knight-of-flowerss @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

Legolas hadn't expected to see you at Elrond's secret meeting.

He didn't even know you knew Gandalf. Well, he didn't know much about you at all really. Of course, Legolas has seen you before, with the adventures he went on with Aragorn and what not, he was hardly ever seen around Lothlórien, and he was sure you were too.

But when you entered the circle of middle-earth creatures with your eccentric aura and manly stance, he thought of you intriguing.

"Another bloody elf?!" Gimli explained in disgust.

Legolas turned to the dwarf seated beside him, opening his mouth ready to throw a remark back when you interrupted.

"Well you are in the Rivendell, dwarf. If you are willing to help with the destruction of the ring, you must watch your tongue, before I cut it out." You threw him a smirk, and watched as Gimli shrunk back in his seat.

"Y/n! I've been expecting you for quite some time." Gandalf made his way over and enveloped you into a hug, which you reciprocated.

"You did show up in the middle of nowhere when I was trying to fish, you owe me a pint, don't forget."

You patted his back and made you way over to an empty chair, which was ironically beside Legolas.

"Oreyt there Legolas?" You patted his shoulder and look towards Elrond. "Let's get on with it then!"

It had been about a week since you and the fellowship had attended Elrond's secret council meeting, and since then, you hadn't really bonded with anyone like everyone else had, though you thoroughly enjoyed flirting.

You knew Aragorn already had his heart set on Arwen, Gimli couldn't stand you (you found it funny to rile him up).

Legolas was your favourite to tease.

He wasn't used to your heavy drinking, swordsmanship, the way your eyes glistened in the moonlight...

You weren't at all what he had thought.

You had a kind heart. And your beauty went beyond those of the other elven women.

And Gimli made sure to point out that you were different.

"Are you sure you're not a man?"

You turned around to look at him, holding back a frown.

"Wait, you're not a man?" Pippin chimed in, finally causing the frown to appear and you started to walk ahead of Gandalf. "Did I say something wrong?"

Nearly an hour later, you all had found a place to rest, yet you didn't talk throughout the whole way through.

Legolas and Aragorn were relieving themselves of their weapons when Legolas peered over at you who stood in the far corner away from everyone else, but near enough for you to hear him insult Gimli.

"I norn na- an imbecile." He placed his arrows next to his bow and Aragorn turned to look at him.

"Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli? Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?" Aragorn questioned him.

"-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!"

Gimli looked up at Boromir who wasn't paying any mind to the rather loud conversation they were having.

"What are the elf and the man speaking about?"

Boromir just shrugged. "I don't know, I don't speak Sindarin.

You, having understood their conversation, smiled a little to yourself, happy that at least someone here would defend you.

You sat quietly beside a lake, inspecting the flora surrounding you, when you heard footsteps.

You swung your body round, placing your hand on the blade strapped to your leg.

The sound revealed itself to be Legolas. "There you are, Gandalf sent me to make sure you weren't missing."

You nodded and motioned him to sit next to you.

"You were being rather loud with Aragorn earlier." You chuckled as you watched a red tint spread across Legolas' cheeks. "Thank you."

Legolas nodded in acknowledgment and he was about to stand up when you grabbed ahold of his hand.

Your hand was rough, no doubt from the countless weapons you have wielded or practised with.

"Legolas, do you think I'm pretty?"

He was taken aback by your sudden question.

Since you were little you had struggled with femininity. Your hobbies were 'un-ladylike', your looks were considered to be 'manly'.

The silence was too loud, too long. So you took that as a no.

"I think you are beautiful. And I think you're too good for anyone here." He sat back down next to you. "Not only are your combat skills exceptional, but the way you carry yourself outshines any of the elvish women. They can't compete."

You moved closer, until your pinky was touching his.

"I may not know you that well, I've hardly ever seen you around Rivendell or any of the elven parts for that matter, and quite frankly, I couldn't care less if you were half elf, or half dwarf, or half whatever. I've still admired you from afar-"

You shut him up with a quick kiss to his lips.

Aragorn watched further away from the bushes, shaking his head with a grin, then going to tell Gandalf that you were safe.

"Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too."

ELVISH TRANSLATION

‘I norn na- an imbecile’ - the dwarf is an imbecile

‘Whui ceri- cin eithad Gimli?’ - why do you insult Gimli?

‘Does ha gar- something na ceri- with ui/n?’ - does it have something to do with Y/n?

‘-o iór ha does! How berth- ho ask hen such a nad! At least with ammen galadrim mín know what mín are!’ - of course it does! how dare he ask her such a thing! at least with us elves we know what we are!

‘Im like cin verui limb legolas, a im gar- admired cin o palan too’ - i like you very much legolas, and i have admired you from afar too

[softspeirs]

hello! could i please request "remembering things they told them" for mota - dealer's choice on characters and/or ocs?💕 — @shoshiwrites

A/N: @shoshiwrites My gut said more John Egan so here we are. This follows this loosely but you don't need to have read it first.

two. dark skies (i remember)

Three cups of coffee the next morning is barely enough to get her out of bed and moving, but she's back in the pub bright and early. They don't do breakfast, but they open at noon, and she promised herself she'd try to put the day before out of her mind.

She's wiping down the bar when she hears the door open. "We're closed--" She stops when she sees Major Egan. He's twisting the brim of his hat in his hands and looking anywhere but at her. "Morning, Major." She says. "Unfortunately we're still closed... no matter how many of those shiny pins you have on your lapel."

His smile is small. "I just wanted to--" He sighs, looking skyward like he's trying to find the right words. "Look, I'm sorry I was an asshole last night."

He doesn't apologize for his language or look at her like she's going to be offended, which she appreciates.

She still doesn't like the look in his eyes. It's... blank. A bit of remorse there, but something else, too. Something dark and closed off, and she hates that she can tell. That she's spent enough time trying to guess what he's thinking that she can tell his moods apart.

"It's alright, Major."

"No it isn't." He's firm, but not unkind. From behind his back, he pulls out a small, small bouquet of flowers.

She doesn't think she's ever seen Major Egan look anything than confident, cocky, and sure of himself. But this look? She wishes she had a camera.

"I remember you said you like daisies," he says quietly, holding it out towards her, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

She's taken aback - the idea that he remembers anything she's said when they've been surrounded by everyone else is crazy to her. "That's-- no offense Major, but I thought you were three sheets to the wind when this conversation was going on."

A group of rowdy aviators, each one of them bragging about the nicest thing they ever did for a girl, and then the competition to see who could outdo the other... it ended with her chiming in from the bar that all she needed was a picnic and some daisies and she'd be happy, just like most other girls her age. No grand gestures necessary.

This feels like a grand gesture, sort of. Her heart rate kicks up when she takes the flowers from him, their fingertips brushing.

"Did you pick these from some unsuspecting housewife's garden?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.

His eyes light up with amused indignation. "Did I--" His voice is half laugh. "I'll have you know I gave some of my hard earned coin to Mrs. Henderson down the road for these."

"You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs. "I know-- I know you were just looking out for me when I came by here last night. You didn't deserve my... bad attitude."

She doesn't know what to say. She has no idea what he's going through. She has her own heartbreak every time she opens the door for business and sees fewer and fewer airmen walking through the door. But these men, his friends? How is he possibly handling that?

"You, uh... you let us in here night after night and have never kicked us out even when we deserved it. And I... I don't know." He shrugs. "Buck went down yesterday. And I'm angry as hell and all I wanted was to drown it."

She looks down. "I'm sorry I turned you away."

His eyes are clear when he meets her gaze. "Don't be. You were right." He rolls his eyes at himself. "But don't go tellin' anyone I said that."

"You're flying today." It's not a question.

"I have to--" He shakes his head. "It's my job." He straightens, drawing himself back to his full height. "Anyway. I just wanted to..." he trails off, gesturing to the flowers still in her hand. "I should go."

He turns, and she remembers him like that the night before, telling her she shouldn't get attached to any of them. She remembers, but suddenly she doesn't care.

It's too late anyway.

"Bucky." She says his nickname for the first time, and he turns faster than she expected, his eyes widening with-- hope? Surprise? "Take this. For luck."

She hands him a single daisy. Takes a deep breath, raises herself up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.

It all happens in a second. A heartbeat.

And it's that second, that heartbeat that she plays over and over again in her mind later that night when Captain Rosenthal's plane comes back alone.

[jpitha]

Hobbies.

Having hobbies isn't that unusual among sapients. One of the whole things about being sapient is having a curious mind and free time. After all, Mzurr wouldn't stop talking to anyone who would listen about the time he went rallying on Earth. He would show off his collection of models and facts about human rally cars every chance he got to anyone within 3 meters of him. It could be tiring really, but he was so excited. It was infectious.

No, what was unusual about the Humans was how hard they went into their hobbies.

When Fennipen - the K'laxi head of security - heard that the Human Emery down in Little Earth had assembled an entire antique steam engine from Earth's past in his quarters and wheeled it out to the common area, he paid him a personal visit. Station was worried, but they couldn't articulate why. "That Human is up to something worrying" was all they could tell Fennipen. “I can feel it.”

As Fenn approached, his olfactory system was assaulted with the smell of oils and metals and paint. It stood maybe a meter and a half tall, only a little taller than Fenn himself. It was...something. It was black metal with silver metal parts and a large brass wheel on the bottom. it was well oiled and like all Human machines looked uncomfortably like it was alive. Fenn’s fur poofed out angrily.

"Emery, what in the *untranslatable*, [oath against sanity] is that?" Emery's translator did its best, but he only got the description which he decided meant it was a good swear. When the translator failed to translate, which wasn’t often, Station chimed into his earpiece “Fenn is concerned and worried about your machine, Emery.”

“I got that, Station, thanks.”

“No problem! Happy to help!”

Emery turned to Fenn. "It's a vertical steam engine! It's a little one, but it's all here! Took weeks of shipping and assembly and getting all the little bits and parts. I even had to machine some of the bearings myself. I must have watched hours of videos about Babbitt Metal. Finally though, it's ready to go!" He spun the wheel at the bottom and surprising Fenn the massive thing spun easily and nearly silently, clicking and hissing as the seals moved up and down. "It's ready to fire, but Station said under no circumstances will they allow open flames. They were rather insistent, so I'll just use compressed air. It’s not exactly the same, but you’ll get the idea.”

“But why?” Fenn’s ears twitched in irritation, but his fur started to flatten.

"Just look at it!" Emery was beaming "It's so neat! And it was made back at time when we didn't have computer controlled precision machinery or even plastics. It's all steel, and brass, and oil, and leather, and felt."

By now a small crowd had gathered in the common. It was a mix of Humans and K’laxi and they were looking on at the machine and Emery and Fenn with mild interest.

Noticing the crowd, Emery opened the valve on his tank of compressed air with a flourish. Whooshing and with an odd susurration, it spun to life. After it was clear that nothing else was going to happen, the crowd made polite noises, and started to walk away.

Watching the machine, Fenn thought it was odd, but no more so than any other strange thing Humans did. He had to admit, the machine puttering away to itself was pretty fascinating. "What's that assembly of pipes on the top?" he found himself asking."

"Oh, that? It's a 5 chime whistle, here check it out!" and Emery pulled the chain hanging off the bottom. ****

Later that day, Fennipen was released from the infirmary with he physician complimenting him on wearing his active hearing protection. He only received "minor" hearing damage and did not need any further work done. Station reported that the sound of the whistle was heard nearly throughout the whole 10 kilometers of themselves. They also mentioned that at least 3 humans startled themselves into a bathroom ‘incident’ and 8 K’laxi ran for their suits thinking it was a pressure alarm.

Emery apologized profusely and was allowed to keep his steam engine - without the whistle - so long as he reported to Station one day in advance of wanting to operate it.

When it comes to hobbies, Humans go hard.

[antiquatedplumbobs]

Spring 1916

It wasn't often that Will and his old school chums got together these days. Ever since they'd left the small Brindleton schoolhouse, moments in which all four were free had become infrequent. Clive's schooling in Britechester hadn't helped the matter, but the Brindleton based boys had also struggled to see each other with any regularity. Tonight was one of those glorious times that their schedules had matched up, and just in time, for Clive had returned home and they were all celebrating his graduation at The Wet Dog.

"To Doctor Guillen!" John was shouting as he toasted Clive, sloshing much of his ale at the same time. The other men followed suit and yet more ale joined John's on the floor.

The evening had perhaps started along a more proper path, with congratulations all around for Clive's recent graduation and upcoming nuptials to a Britechester girl; these congratulations had of course been accompanied by a round of drinks. Al had then shared the surprising news that he and his wife, Posie, were expecting. Another round had of course been necessary to celebrate the news. Each round had had a good reason to be drunk, Will thought, a bit fuzzily, but for the life of him he couldn't quite remember all of them just now.

Despite the activity of the evening, Will was distracted; Joe's offer stubbornly at the forefront of his thoughts. He had not shared news of it with anyone, holding it close, so it came as somewhat of a surprise when he found himself blurting the news out.

Initial confusion could be attributed to the less than sober nature of the party, but after Will's explanation, excitement overtook. 

“I’ll say, that sounds splendid!” Clive exclaimed. “My father’s been thinking about getting a motorcar, it would make house calls *that* much easier. He’s an awful hand with anything mechanical, though — human bodies, sure, but really anything else, and the man’s completely lost,” he said with a laugh. “I’m sure he’d be real happy to have that here in Brindleton. Plus, automobiles are spreading like wildfire; Carissa says you can’t cross the street in San Myshuno without having one honk at you.”

The others were quick to chime in with their excitement over the offer, and Will felt their support wash over him like a balm; suddenly the idea didn't seem so harebrained.

"What did you father say?" John questioned animatedly, "he's always had such a head for all that modern stuff, he'll talk Pa's ear off about new farm equipment any time he's down at the store." John had quickly hit on Will's biggest concern over this enterprise: Hamish's reaction.

"I haven't told him," Will said honestly. "He really relies on my help and I don't want to leave him in a lurch or anything. We've both built the dairy up into what it is now, and I don't know how he'd feel about me leaving; I think we both always assumed I'd take it over for him one day." It was true, Will had spent the last decade pouring his blood and sweat into their expanding business; they were now one of the largest suppliers of milk to the local cheese factory.

Will was realizing that he wanted to take this job with Joe more than he’d ever wanted anything before. In ‘06, when the blight had decimated their orchard, and, with it, any chance for Will to pursue a further education, he had been relatively unbothered; school had held little interest to him. But this was different; he wanted it so deeply it hurt. He had spent so many years with his head down, not allowing any thoughts for a future outside the farm, and — now that he had — the feelings beat upon him as powerfully as the waves upon the shore during a storm. He felt as powerless to resist their pull as a grain of sand to a wave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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