#as for blue cheese i have the skin but not him </3

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝐼’𝑀 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸.

꒰ armin takes his pretty girlfriend on a picnic in an enchanted forest.꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 1.4k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sub / dom, profanity, pet names, unprotected penetrative sex, we’re in luvvv, outside indecency, love bites, praise, kinda shy reader, smoking, kreampie, minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . this been in the drafts since 2022 y’all. a lil sum.

a pastel baby blue dress clings tight to your smooth skin, looking like the prettiest cottage core girl. frills on the shoulders and bust sitting low to accentuate your perky chest. love handles and tummy pudge swallowed by the soft material. armin couldn't keep his eyes, or hands, to himself. rubbing all up on you throughout your entire picnic date. fresh air blows through the trees and the bright views of sunlight beam across the blue lake where pure white doves swam in silence. armin had found this mythical location by driving around one day. it's quiet and reserved, deep into an enchanted forest.

the two of you sat on a blanket sprawled out on the grass, enjoying the food armin neatly packed. lots of fruits because you loved them. strawberries, raspberries, pomegranates, green grapes, apricots, and peaches . . . you name it. overdoing it just a bit, but he knows it’ll be eaten by this week. this was breakfast, the time now around eleven in the morning, so while you got ready he prepped the food. heart shaped pancakes, waffles, turkey bacon, pork sausage, scrambled cheese eggs and of course never forgetting your orange juice.

to make it cuter he brought a glass vase and filled it with water and multicolor roses he bought from the flower shop. you ate so much food your stomach bloated, unable to eat anymore. armin lays on his back with you to stare up at the sky and watch the trees blow, the weather perfect for the occasion. the sun hitting your skin serenely. you rest your head on armin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he massages your back in gentle circles, nearly falling asleep because you’re so at peace.

“i’m so glad we did this,” a yawn escapes as you smile sweetly at him, rubbing his stomach over his white tee.

armin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering it before mumbling, “me too.” soon, digging into his jean pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. tapping the plastic box to release a stick. your body moves with the forearm he brings together to light his cig, flicking the lighter twice and satiating his need.

“i needed a break from life. so, thank you, love.” the softness in your voice makes the man's heart beat twice as fast. he smiles at you after turning his head the opposite way to blow out smoke, knowing you hated it in your face. being at close proximity right now was less irritating since you're elated at the moment. you could care less because he's comfortable, and it makes you feel the same. you could never get him to quit no matter how hard you tried. never argued with him about it. minor debates but he gave valid points so you laid off it.

“i figured it'd be nice to escape for the day. it's upsetting we have to return to reality tomorrow. but when i'm with you, it always feels . . . free.”

armin brushes a curved knuckle over your cheekbone, your eyes glued to his own.

“i feel the same way.”

“i say i love you all the time. but do you really understand it? how deep it is?”

you curl your lips inward, pondering on his question. more like a statement.

“i know you love me. you show it more ways than one. i think that's meaningful overall.”

fluffy blond hair with gold hues covers his angelic baby blue eyes, reaching up to tuck some of the wavy ringlets behind his ear.

“tell me you love me, then gimme a kiss.”

your face grows hot from his demand, growing nervous. you sit up briefly to grab a peach to bite into and distract yourself, more like hide your face because you were smiling so hard. this happens to be the second time since he's first told you he loved you. it makes you shy even still, the rush of heat coming to your cheeks from the intense glare he gives you, waiting for you to say it. you don't know why it felt so hard to utter. it's clear you love him, but maybe it was the large commitment of the word . . . the vulnerability, the devotion, the forever tie that scared you.

"tell me you love me, or i'll make you say it, ꒰♡꒱ ."

and make you he does.

his breath is warm on your neck, tongue following to lick a bold stripe over your skin with his fingers indented into the flesh of your cheeks and jaw. your face is upturned, head resting on his shoulder, back to his chest as you rely on his body for your balance. your thighs are spread wide, holding yourself open with your unoccupied hand, gripping under the bend of your knees, whimpering in the breezy air as his hips interact with the round of your ass, fucking you from the side fervidly. his moans are light, dancing in your ear while you claw into the picnic blanket beneath you two, clutching the grass and dirt in the wake. tuning into the lewd interaction of his heavy dick pounding into you, tits bouncing out of the enclosure of your dress.

“i can’t hear you, ꒰♡꒱,” armin grits his teeth, his lips on your jaw now, kissing away and grunting as he raises his hips to fuck you deeper, thrusts steady but rough. you’re feeling dizzy, whining from the baritone of his voice. “i didn’t make myself clear enough?”

“n-no. . . ar—min. mmph,” while denying, there’s a crack in your voice as you try your best to speak, moans rumbling in your throat, your tummy jiggling from his harsh pace.

“then tell me, tell me,” armin’s voice is a whispered plead, his jeans to his knees and his shirt pulled up to his midsection, skin scorching against your own.

you’re soft, and small. his big hand with veins protruding goes from your face to your chest, tweaking your nipples that spilled out of it’s cups alluringly, before spanking them with the pads of his fingers. tweak, spank, tweak, spank. it’s a notion that has you drooling, and sobbing pathetically. he’s trying to upkeep his composure, trying not to bottom out and lose his sanity. you’re too cute.

“i love youuu,” you finally cry out, ragged moans falling out in shorts gasps, tears coaxing and the pressure in your tummy building.

“fuck, there you go, sweetie,” his excitement shows through the way his dick slips out of you, both of you gasping from the loss until he slaps your clit with his dick, your juices sputtering out of you with each wet pat pat pat. armin draws his hips back slightly before sliding back inside easily, digging his fingers into the back of your thigh you held up and rolled his waist to fuck you harder.

each pound is harder than the previous, his jaw widening as he chokes on his moans and catches your throat with his mouth, tongue lolling out occasionally and his teeth following suit. your head is tossed back entirely, his arm going around your shoulder to cradle you, falling back on the ground. your thighs press tightly together, and you hold onto his arm while his middle and ring fingers thrum intricately over your puffy clit to watch her squirt.

armin hisses with skaken moan. “say it again, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i love you, armin.”

“again,” he’s biting at your neck again, your mouth agape from the combination of that and the head of his dick kissing your sweet spot.

“b-baby, g-god. i love you.”

“ooh, shit,” armin then pushes your left thigh flat to the ground, your body twisted as he goes to level himself above you in push up form, dropping his dick into you with steady, hard pounds. his voice grows weak, moans whiny as he cums deep inside of you, and you follow not long after, squeaking and clutching onto his wrist planted by your head. the softness of your ass bouncing back onto his hips is entrancing. his ass flexing when he grinds into your pussy.

“oh my god,” those pretty strands of blond sway in front of his face, giggling and lowering his body to rest his chest on your side. repeatedly leaving kisses to your flushed cheeks, neck, even your forehead. unable to move at all.

“i really love you, i swear,” the pads of your fingers brush over his pink lips, overly sensitive at the moment so you definitely felt like crying. a high pitched hiccup interrupts the moment, and that only makes armin roll his lips inward before bursting out a laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he gives you an eskimo kiss before smooching your lips. “i know you do.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life. 🫧🍓

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

East Blue Crew modern au!

Ive been working on this on and off for a while now.

There’s a lot here so [rings dinner bell] come get y’all’s meal

ASL Modern Au Post

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The way post

Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2 post

Additional Headcanons:

Nami needs her own episode on extreme couponers. Sis has an entire binder dedicated to it.

Zoro cannot for the life of him beat Luffy in an arm wrestling match. No matter how much he lifts or trains, he always loses.

Zoro is actually pretty good at grilling. Sanji was pleasantly surprised when the burger that was presented to him wasnt a pile of ash/ so raw its still walking around. One day the two will have a grill off.

Usopp and Luffy love playing yugioh with eachother. Neither of them actually know the rules of the game, they just make it up as they go.

Nami used to collect american girl dolls and she keeps them in a closet in her apartment. One day when usopp luffy and chopper were snooping around, they found the accursed closet and were scared shitless.

Usopp has an ant farm and luffy thinks its the coolest shit.

In this modern au, sanji takes the place of that one guy on tiktok who makes duets with cooking videos, and films until they put the entire block of cream cheese in the crock pot.

Sanji is also this guy

Even though nami has scary dog privilege when walking with zoro, its not just beneficial to her. In fact nami has outlawed zoro from going on walks in general alone, as he would get lost and need nami to walk to him to direct him home. Nami has scary dog privilege and zoro has sense of direction privilege when they walk together

Sanji and Nami rewatch Pretty Little Liars/ Gossip Girl/ Glee/ and other CW drama shows together.

Nami and Usopp always be shit talking someone/something. They are hateful bitches.

How luffy meets each of them:

Zoro- they met each other because the 24 hr gym Zoro works in is right down the street from Luffy’s apartment and one day Luffy was walking by at around 3 am and noticed Zoro in there. Luffy asks him if he wants to join him fucking around at 3 am on the streets of this city area they live in and Zoro accepts after a little convincing from Luffy. When they get outside Zoro’s like

“where’s the rest?”

“Of what?”

“Of your friends”

“Its just you rn”

“… :| i mean, i had assumed you werent alone”

“Nope!”

“HA OkAy”

Nami- they took the same economics course together. They were paired up in a project and hit it off after that and often had study sessions together. Their defining friendship maker though, was they teamed up to steal the answer key to the test they were both definitely going to fail because the class was bullshit.

Usopp- they had taken a graphic design course together. Luffy had no idea what he was doing the entire time and Usopp was very happy that he could impart his wisdom uponst this newcomer to the arts. Although luffy did already have some… incredible(?) art skills of his own already. It was instant chemistry for them honestly, their synergy just clicked and before they knew it, they were besties.

Sanji- works in the restaurant thats underneath the ASL brothers’ apartment complex. Their fist encounter with the restaurant was not of them going in to eat there, though. The trio were throwing around the ol’ pig skin in the street in front of their complex when luffy failed to catch the ball, and accidentally ricocheted it into the front window of the Baratie, through the eating area, over the counter, and into Mr. Zeff’s face. Zeff stormed out of the eatery and asked which of them destroyed his glass and hit him in the head

And luffy looks over and notices his brothers selling him out and is like “HEY!!! D:” So luffy was stationed as the place’s chore boy and met sanji while working there. 2 years later the debt was repayed, sanji and luffy are friends, and the Baratie is ASL’s fav eating place due to the great food, delightfully violent vibes, and great company.

thats all for now, hope you enjoyed!

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 3

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you escape and face the consequences of your actions

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

It’s cold outside, you think, and you wish you had brought a little more thought to your choice in outfit because the shirt you’re wearing does little to protect your skin from the harsh wind. You regret not finding something a little thicker, something with longer sleeves perhaps when you had raided the wardrobe earlier. You were searching for comfort, not practicality, and now that decision was coming to bite you in the ass. 

Your body carries you through the wooded area surrounding the house, brambles scratching at your arms and drawing blood. You thank your body for pumping out adrenaline once again, protecting you from feeling too much pain. You’re not sure if you’ve ever run this hard or this fast in your entire life, the burning in your lungs evident that maybe you should have focused a bit more on staying in shape. Your shoes were definitely not made for running and you add it to the list of things to curse yourself for later. 

The pavement under your feet is different from the mushy grass surrounding the SKZ base and you find yourself trying not to connect your feet as hard to the ground to make up for it, lest the burning in your legs slow you down. Wait… pavement? You slow, coming to a stop to allow yourself a moment to view your surroundings and catch your breath. 

You notice you're in the city, albeit a deserted part of it that you don't recognize. Looking left and right, you decide to go in the direction of the faded city lights. At every car that passes you hold your breath and try to sink into the bushes, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible just in case Chan is in one of the vehicles. 

Salvation comes to you in the form of a gas station, seemingly devoid of any life. As you near close, you let out a sigh of relief when you see the blinking ‘open’ sign. One person mans the register, a man in his mid-30s that doesn’t seem to pay you any mind. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey but even so you can’t find it in you to be displeased. 

“Excuse me, sir,” you say, saccharine sweet. “Do you have a phone I could borrow?” The first thing you would like to do is give your sister a phone call, to let her know you’re on the way.

“You have to buy something first,” he replies instantly, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper. 

You freeze. “But… I don't have any money.” It's the truth. God knows where your phone and wallet are; you haven’t had either since you started dating Jungwon and became dependent on him for everything. 

“That's not my problem,” he says. You take a deep breath to ground yourself, inhaling the aroma of hot dogs and nacho cheese. A slushie machine whirls behind you, reds and blues that could be impossibly easy to get lost in. 

“Listen sir, I've had a rough couple of days, and I don't know where I am, and I would really appreciate it if–” 

“No, you listen, brat,” he spits the word out, finally slamming his paper down and shooting you a nasty glare. “I don't give a damn who you are, either buy something or get the Hell out of my store before I call the cops.” 

You feel inclined to listen and book it out of here but you realistically don’t have many other options. You ignore the tears threatening to spill from your lash line. If he won’t let you use the phone, the least you could do is try to figure out where you are. 

“Um… okay, how far is Second Street from here?” 

“Least three miles.” 

“Three miles? Okay. What about downtown?” 

“Still at least an hour walk.” 

“Shit, okay. Have a nice night, sir,” you say, but you don’t mean it and he doesn't deserve it. You walk out of the store nonetheless, walking on the abandoned sidewalk in the direction of the city. Your body aches and you’re not sure how far you’ve walked when you hear voices in front of you. 

There’s three men. One of them sways back and forth as he walks, obviously inebriated. Fuck. You keep your eyes glued to the sidewalk and your pace quickens, hoping that a lack of engagement will increase your luck. Maybe, just maybe for once in your life you’ll get a free pass here. Of course that doesn’t happen. 

“Hey, pretty thang. What's a girl like you doing all by yourself this late at night?” The man nudges his friend, the noticeably drunker one. 

“I don't want any trouble,” you mumble, pushing forward. 

A large unwelcoming hand reaches out to grab your wrist and you shout out in pain. Broken. Despite the ice and bandage wrapped around your appendage, your wrist is still broken. 

“What wash that? I think she said she wantshta show ush a good time!” He slurs, and anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach. You’re starting to get really tired of the feeling. 

“Let me go, please!” Your other hand gripped the offender’s, placing it over his tight grasp. 

You're shoved to the ground, knees scraping against the sidewalk. Your breath is caught in your throat, and the scene is all too familiar. 

“Come on bunny, don't you want to play?” A hand grips around your throat, and you feel like prey. How they managed to find the parts of you that were weak and vulnerable, you had no clue. Men like this just had a knack for being awful like that. A hand snakes in your hair and grabs tight, and you’re reminded of just days ago being in this exact situation. 

“Look, she’s crying!” one of them coos. You let out a loud sob and think, God, I’m going to die here. How you always have a knack for making wrong decisions, you’ll never know. 

“Let her go.” Your eyes shoot open when you hear a familiar deep voice. Instead of being filled with fear at finally being caught, you can’t help but to feel relieved. 

“Felix!” you cry out. You try to crane your head to look at him but the man’s grip on your hair is too tight. 

“Let her go? Why? We were having a good time!” One of them laughs and you feel his grip on you tighten. You whimper in pain. “Do you wanna join in?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything, but you hear a soft, mechanical clicking sound. It’s too silent and you’re afraid that you know the reason why. Your eyes stay closed but you’re free, suddenly. As you begin to fall you brace to hit the concrete but you’re surprised when you don’t. A warm and steady arm wraps around your middle and you relax into Felix as the men scamper away. 

“He's fucking crazy, man. The bitch isn't worth it.” And like that, they are gone. You allow yourself to glance down at Felix and the gun he is holding, but you aren't intimidated anymore. He has gotten rid of the real threat. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, not looking at you. You swallow, hating to be the target of his disappointment. The gun is put away and forgotten about and you slump out his grasp and onto the concrete. You shake your head at him, trying to indicate that you are okay, you’re not seriously hurt, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Instead he ushers you into a car that you hadn’t even noticed had appeared, obviously too caught up in the situation at hand. He opens the door for you and you climb in, noticing that he sits in the passenger seat, not the driver’s. You furrow your brow until you recognize Hyunjin in the driver’s seat, tapping furiously on the wheel. On your left you recognize the broad frame as Changbin, who seems to be more distressed than anyone else in the car. You hope for silence, but once again, you can never be so lucky. 

“How do you always manage to get yourself into such trouble?” Hyunjin laughs. He irritates you to no end, always so sure of himself and full of it. “First Jungwon, us, and now these thugs? Do you have a knack for finding trouble or does trouble find you?” You notice Felix tense, and you decide staying in silence is probably better to not irritate the men further. You look out the window instead as the car speeds off. 

Hyunjin continues, “Normally Chan would want us to blindfold you if we were taking you back to our place, but he told us not to bother this time. He seems incessant that there’s no reason to.” Does he ever shut up? “Expect for him to be pissed. He knew you were going to leave, though.” 

Now that was enough to break your silence. 

“He knew?” you ask, incredulous. 

“Of course. It was a test, after all. To see where your loyalties lie, if he threatens you and tells you not to escape, you’re much more likely to leave right after because you think you can get away with it.” Shit. Now you feel dumb. But instead of letting on, you scoff and turn your head back to the window, finding the view much more interesting. You’re shivering still from the cold despite the heat pumping through the air vents. Felix wordlessly takes off his coat and hands it to you, and while you want to be proud and reject the offer you can’t help but want for this chill in your bones to go away. His jacket is warm and you can smell the trace of his cologne, floral, like jasmine yet earthy.  

You couldn’t have been in the car for more than ten minutes, and you curse yourself, realizing that you really didn’t get as far as you thought. 

Then, you approach a long driveway, adorned with a large iron gate that would intimidate anyone that made it to this part of the city, encased in grime and rust that’s indicative of its age. The car drives down the winding roads with familiarity which puts you at ease and keeps you from feeling nauseous, which you feel grateful for. When you arrive at the front of the house, you are finally given the opportunity to take a look at where you have been staying, as previous circumstances hadn’t allowed you to do so. 

The exterior of the house is a little dreary, the age of the cracked brick and marble noticeable. Even in the dark you could tell everything else is well-taken care of, well-trimmed shrubbery and flower beds surprising you. You don’t get as much time to look around as you would like, though you do notice the sheer size of the house as you follow the men up the gravel pathway. Large front doors open up and you’re guided inside. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You and Felix walk in silence to your room. You’re almost ashamed to meet his eye. 

“How did you know where to find me?” you finally ask. 

“I came to bring you this,” he says, gesturing to what he had been holding. A hard brace for your wrist. “When I came to your room and you weren’t there, I panicked. You couldn’t have gotten far, but we jumped in the car right away.” 

“But… What about what Hyunjin said?” You ask. Meanwhile he starts to unwrap the bandage on your wrist, revealing the very swollen and purple affected area. You wince slightly. 

“About it being a test? I wouldn’t be surprised, you’re probably in deep shit with Chris.” He says. You notice that he uses a nickname when referring to the man but you don’t say anything. He pulls out a first aid kit and starts to sanitize the surface of your skin and it stings more than you’d like to admit. Still, he does so delicately, making sure his fingers don’t press onto your injury too harshly. “I didn’t think you would leave,” he admits. “It was really stupid, you do realize that, right? I was just… really hoping you would be smarter than that.” 

You scoff. “Stupid, got it. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to stay trapped with the mafia, but I saw my opportunity. I have a life out there I want to get back to! I can’t stay here for the rest of my life.” 

“That may be true, but you won’t have a life to get back to if you’re killed the moment you leave,” he points out. “I’m not trying to be malicious, but you have a huge target on your back. Even if it’s not Jungwon who comes for you, you’re affiliated with ENHA. People who are not as kind as we are will see you as a way to get to him and they’ll kill you in cold blood.” He delicately places the new brace onto your wrist, strapping it shut tight. You try not to think about how his touch lingers on your skin, that you can still feel where he touched you and how it makes your face heat up. Instead you try to flex your wrist to test the brace, finding that it provides enough support for you not to move it too intensely. Felix hums in approval. 

“Come with me,” he says. He takes you to the bathroom and gestures for you to sit on the toilet lid. You do, looking up at him inquisitively. You see that he has brought the first aid kit with him and he’s keen on tending to your other injuries. 

“I just don’t understand,” you say, breaking the silence. He takes an antiseptic wipe and starts to wipe away scratches on your head. “Just… Why do you care if I live or die?” 

“That’s a tough one,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s joking. “I guess you can say I don’t like Yang Jungwon. Our feud with them has lasted for several years and he’s just a nuisance. He kills people in cold blood and is remorseless. I’m sure you’ve seen it first hand just how manipulative he can be, and we really just want to make sure that he doesn’t do anything to undermine us. That being said, you’re a benefit to SKZ. I know you might not see it yet, but you might be the ticket we need to finally one-up them. If you’re dead then we’re back to an even playing field.” 

“What about the infiltration? Don’t you have plans with Lee Know?” you ask. 

“Oh, Minho? He’s a very skilled person, he excels at this kind of thing. We’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while and we finally have an opportunity to do so. I hear that they’re planning to start up an underground drug-ring, something that would put us both in the public eye more than we want. Minho is going to try to find out what he can about it and then we can proceed.” 

Felix bends down, kneeling before you. Your breath hitches before you can think about it; it’s not fitting for someone who looks so majestic to be below you, you think. 

He starts to clean the scrapes on your knees. They’re bloody and raw from your fall and you’re only now starting to feel the aftereffects from it. You’re grateful that he’s taking the time to tend to your injuries, scanning your entire body from head to toe until he’s content. “You’re too good for all of this,” he finally says. “Someone like you should have never gotten involved in our lifestyle. You have so much potential, I can just see it. How did you even get stuck in this life?” The question is so intimate that it takes you a moment to process that he asked it. 

“I didn’t know who he was when I started dating him,” you admit. “Like you said, he’s manipulative. He’s mastered the art of deception. When I met him, he was charming and sweet, you know? It feels dumb to say, but by the time he admitted to me he was part of the mafia, I was head over heels in love with him. By the time I realized that the Jungwon I knew was just a facade it was too late, he caused me to completely rely on him for everything. I lost everything, Felix.” He nods in understanding, looking up at you before he stiffens. 

“Your neck… Did he do that, too?” he asks. There’s no judgment in his voice. You realize that the makeup you applied so diligently before must have completely rubbed off by now. You sigh. 

“Yeah. The night Chan found me, Jungwon and I got into a fight. It was my fault, but he threatened me, and it got physical, and…” 

“I don’t know what happened, but I severely doubt it could have been your fault,” he says. You decide not to divulge the details of your argumentThis is the first time you have admitted the situation out loud, and you feel very vulnerable. For some reason, you really want to tell Felix, despite the tears threatening to spill from your lashes. 

“He knocked me unconscious outside of the club, and when I woke up, I was here.” He finishes bandaging up your injuries and he stands, stretching his back and popping his joints. There’s blood on his white dress shirt. Your blood, though you don’t remember how it got there. 

“When you left tonight, where were you planning to go? You weren’t going–” 

“Not back to him, God no. Um… I have a sister, I was just trying to get in touch.” He seems content with your answer. You wonder if he’s just going to relay all of that information back to Chan. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, though, so you can’t really bring yourself to care. 

“I don’t know how long you’re going to be here. But for now, this is the safest place for you. So, try not to do anything else that’s stupid.” He turns to the door to leave, but you find yourself calling out. 

“Felix?” He halts and his eyes meet yours as you call his name. “Thank you.” There’s a lot of meaning to convey with just two words, but you hope you get your point across; thank you, for saving my life, for talking with me, for treating my wounds. He seems to understand. He graces you with a small smile before leaving 

You take a minute to breathe and look at yourself in the mirror. You are definitely not the same person you were two days ago. You smile at the reflection of yourself that has been beaten and bruised, and you hardly recognize her. You open the door to retreat to your bedroom for the night, but are shocked by what you see. 

For the second time in one night, Bang Christopher Chan sits on your bed, waiting expectantly. 

“We need to talk,” he says. 

He looks pissed. His glare sends shivers straight up your spine, and it takes everything for you to not break down and cry on the spot. It makes you feel guilty for everything that happened tonight, but you have to shake that thought. You were justified, you need to stand strong. You sit on the bed next to him without him gesturing for you to do so, as it feels like what he wants. You aren’t stupid enough to disobey him again. 

You look him in the eye. 

“I’d like to think I’m a kind person,” he says. “I don’t ask much of you–”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. 

“Speak when spoken to. I won’t tell you again.” He clears his throat. “I don’t ask much of you. In fact, I gave you just two, simple, commands that you couldn’t be bothered to follow. Do not contact Yang Jungwon, and do not leave. What did you do?” He looks at you but you stay silent. “Answer.” 

“I left.” 

“That’s right. You must be pretty stupid, Y/N. Stupid enough to somehow end up here, and even more stupid to disobey me. I knew you were going to try to push your luck,” he says. “Explain yourself.” 

“I…” you gulp. You decide honesty is the best way to go about this. “I got scared. I know you told me not to leave and I didn’t listen, and I truly apologize but I remembered how trapped I felt when I was with Jungwon, and, well… the prospect of staying here for the rest of my life really really scared me.  I wanted to see my sister and tell her I’m alright. My phone is gone, and she probably thinks I’m dead. I envisioned a world where I  never got to see her again and make things right, and I thought this would be my only chance.” 

He sits in silence for a moment, contemplating. “This will be the last time I extend such kindness to you,” he says slowly. “From here on, I want your complete loyalty to me and the rest of SKZ.I will ensure your safety from ENHA and any potential threat. For now, that’s all you need. If you try to undermine me one more time, I will make sure you never see your sister again. Take that any way you want.” He stands. 

“Hyunjin said that this was a test,” you say cautiously. “Are you going to punish me?” 

“I thought I made myself very clear that there would be consequences to your actions,” he says. “I will go lightly on you, just this time. I’m being very nice, just so you are aware: I am not usually known by others as a kind person.” He sighs. “Pick a number between one and ten.” 

“Um… five?” you say, trying to play it safe and pick a number that’s not too high and not too low. His hands slide down to his waistband, unbuckling his belt and taking it out of the loops. 

“Lift your shirt up and turn around.” 

You do, with shaky hands, turn around and lift your shirt up so just your back is revealed to Chan. You don’t protest, worrying that that could somehow make things worse. 

You steady your breath and brace for impact. 

Thwack. 

One time, Chan’s leather belt comes down and hits the skin of your back hard. It’s obvious he has no intention of holding back and it stings; you bite down on your bottom lip to suppress your cries. 

Thwack. 

The second time, just as hard. 

Five times Chan hits you hard with your belt and you can’t hold back your tears any longer, though you do stay strong in the decision to not let him see them. After the fifth hit, you stand and pull down your shirt. 

“Rest up,” he tells you. “Tomorrow you’ll meet everyone else.” 

It’s stupid of you to think about, but you practically disregarded the fact that there are other members you have not met yet. You’re not entirely looking forward to it, though you don’t say so.  

“Does everyone know?” you ask him just as he’s about to leave. “Does everyone know that I’m associated with Jungwon?” 

“Everyone knows,” he confirms. “I trust my group implicitly. I felt no need to hide it from them, though at this point I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of.” You nod your head at the information, lost in thought. 

Then Chan leaves and you’re finally alone. When you lie down in bed you finally take note of how your body feels after all this time. Every muscle aches and you can’t lay down on your back and once again you ignore the incessant throbbing in your skull. When you lay down in the bed to sleep, it’s on the comfiest, most luxurious mattress that you’ve ever laid on. You stare at the wall until you drift off with a dreamless yet peaceful sleep.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ;

[strawhatkia]

luvr boy.

INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !

WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited

WORD COUNT ! 1.6k

A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧

pretty boy- the prettiest 

alright!! let’s start with wash day!!

…nigga did not know shit-

 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair

all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e

“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”

everything…everything is wrong…

aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength

and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack

chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 

don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?

but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!

first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while

lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter

mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  

after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet

“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth

after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size

“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 

the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed

when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes

“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”

he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self

which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."

to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting

golden hour, his favorite time of the day

this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you

it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this

"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"

side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised

izuku loves affection, giving and receiving

his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm

go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen

one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard

as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.

let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 

ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so

even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)

i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much

if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 

and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times

remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason

poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking

he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it

later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did

and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands

he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them

he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend

i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it

please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit

he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special

he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 

when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run

give it back and you'll never see it again.

but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red

“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*

nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-

for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka

short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in

long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  

and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”

i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles

be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !

the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 

the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while

he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else

i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together

you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price

what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?

everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !

izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 

you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters

boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo

love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters

taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene

izuku taglist: @cosmiles

[stareiiez]

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- four

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

content : dark?? ghost. fingering. orgasming. voyeurism. modern settings. mentions of stalking. gore. death. gun violence. graphic descriptions of gore. torture. obsession. drinking. sex. female genitals. unhealthy attachments. violence. blood. implied death. blood. smut in later chapters. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult cis female reader. MDNI. 3.8k words. proof read to the best of my tired eyes.

note: another late night update <3 if you're triggered by death/ torture pls don't read! if you do, don't say i didnt warn you! as always, reblogs, comments, and notes are loved and appreciated!!!!

To say soundproofing a basement was a blessing for Simon was a blessing is a severe understatement. Without it, the patrons who were upstairs drinking and being merry in crude ways would be able to hear the gut-wrenching screams and manly grunts over the pain-filled noises that were caused by several weapons of torture and destruction. His favorite had been the cheese grater. A little corny, sure, but god did it do the job to make a man piss himself like a little bitch when it was dragged up the valley of his tender throat. The meaty thwack of blunt force meeting wet skin echoes in the darkened basement. Musty air and traces of liquor tingle upon a twice-broken nose. Bloody knuckles wreak havoc upon the blistered and fileted skin of poor Graves. It's been like this for nearly an hour, the need for releasing pent-up steam and broiling over anger made Simon pull out the big guns and turn the pretty boy into nothing but a bloody sack of crying meat.

Graves was unrecognizable. Both of his once beautiful blue eyes, that you stared at so dreamy-like, were swollen shut. Puffy and purple turning with threats of black eyes and bloodshot irises. Cigarette burns, stab wounds, cuts, and barely forming bruises were littering the bare upper body of the poor suffering sap Simon was torturing half to death. Kidnapping and planned manslaughter were not in his plans tonight, far from it. His plans were innocent. He wanted to watch you and your nightly routine, memorize your little rituals before bed. He wanted to see what you would look like when you were dreaming so peacefully under his watchful eyes that would be at your bedside. He wanted to know what your sheets smelled like, felt like under his rough palms, and get the first touch of pure warmth that radiated off your little body while it was oblivious to his touch.

Now Graves just had to come over on the night Simon planned to. How unfortunate. Truly. If he was any better mate he would apologize for every scream and plea that tumbled out of that broken jaw that once purred into your ear in front of Simon's eyes. It didn't have to be like this, but he had a point to make. He tells himself this when his broad back turns, grabbing at an already stained towel painted red with thick ruby ichor. You were his girl. His pretty baby should be fingered by him and him only. This was only an example for every other son of a bitch you decided that was better to fuck than Simon Riley himself.

"She never even told me she had a boyfriend." cried Graves when he was still pure and fresh-skinned. His eyes flicked down to the dull butcher knife that Simon had been tossing up and down lazily; brown eyes watching the frustration and unease that crept on the other man's face underneath the bleached bone mask of his. "Wouldn't even have thought to touch her, unless she wanted it, and she did want it." Wrong set of words. Yikes.

Rusted metal meets the muscle of Graves' right thigh in one effortless swing of Simon, buried to the hilt. Dark cherry starts to bubble around the plastic handle. Strong metal and even stronger cries of the pretty boy. His head throws back with a growl and a colorful string of curses. Not a very Southern gentlemanly thing of him to do. Very different from the southern hospitality Graves was giving you before Simon got his hands on him. Overly whitened teeth bare out between a grimace and snarl given to the brit. All bark and very little bite. Cute. He'd have fun with this. He always had fun with this type of work, it's why his group always gave him the nitty gritty bloody work. Their hands would be a little cleaner than his, and he could enjoy watching even the toughest get unnerved when they caught the sick glint in Simon's eyes when he brought out new ' toys ' to try out.

Now Graves was on the receiving end of that sick look. Emotionless eyes but smiling lips that peeled a bit too wide under the suffocating balaclava that covered his head and mouth. Bottomless dark pools of his irises reflected the mess of carved-away fatty tissue and the sharp ends of broken bones stretching past the elasticity of human skin. A dead man's masterpiece. Picasso eat your fucking heart out.

The saving grace was the end of a smoking barrel that pressed to Grave's forehead. Hot iron and metal singed away at damp baby hairs and smoothed away the wrinkles of distraught so cruelly. Simon was growing bored of this torture now, he was wasting too much time here messing with a man who had one foot in the grave and the other trying to wedge itself in the doorway of life. He had to make a call and see if his pretty girl was distraught enough for a comforting hand or two to reel her into the snare of his adoration.

"Have we learned our lesson for the evenin' then, mate?" Simon's dark timber of a voice growled into the stale air. The end of his gun prodded at glistening skin for an answer almost immediately. He doesn't have all night.

Grave's jaws couldn't click together enough to help form the bleeding nub of a tongue to form a coherent enough answer to please him. That tongue was cut off with a clean swipe of Simon's blade when Graves still had his energy and was making threats about getting out of there and getting his men to show the Brit how torture worked; then maybe he'd celebrate by fucking 'his' girl all in memorium for his tries. Shame that tongue had to go, he preferred the curses and slew of half-baked 'go to hell's ' Graves let bolster out in the first thirty minutes down here.

He'll settle for a silent answer then. Broken bones popped socket arms and kneecaps would just have to be an affirmative' yes sir ' to Simon. If Dead men can't come crawling back out of their half-dug graves to come to eat some pussy; then mangled ruined bodies of desperate mutts of men can fuck to save their fading souls from descending into the depths of hell.

Thumb cocking back the hammer of his sidearm, pointer finger pressing a little bit too eagerly. The kickback of gunpowder and fire didn't make Simon miss the satisfying spray of pink brain matter, hot blood, and tiny pieces of flying skull shrapnel painting the grungey floor behind Graves.

A mess of gory artistry the man behind the painting would just have to miss being cleaned up and taken out back to be thrown away in a dumpster where all other trash goes to rot away in a marked landfill. The gun of his was tossed next to Grave's bound cooling corpse. He'll get an earful about doing this during working hours of the bar, but he would be damned if he didn't get to release his demons onto Graves before it was too late and his anger chilled to a icy tundra in his chest.

Another cup of coffee, perhaps your fourth of the night cools in your palms again. The caffeine does little to soothe the growing migraine that pounds behind your eye sockets with every microsecond your patience wanes into threads. Angry hornets fester inside your skull, and a jack rabbit's heart inside your chest. Your night is taking years off your life, you can feel it with every monotonous droning of the same questions one of the cops repeats every ten minutes or so. It feels like you're getting nowhere, running on a hamster wheel that'll lead to nowhere and you getting winded in the process. The police make you feel stupid. The moment two cop cars arrived at your residence to investigate the lack of evidence they found from your supposed potential serial killer. They condescended and ridiculed every detail you gave them till your face ran blue and the air in your lungs was nearly gone.

The bloody handprint that was smeared on the greenhouse's wall was already washed away; more than likely absorbed into the greedy grass like a man sucking down water after being in the desert for months. Other than the scratched ' S ' on your porch step there was little to believe you and your cracked-out story. They thought you called just for attention, just to waste gas that was paid for too high taxes. It's been like this for two hours now, repetitive questions and police pulling only yours and Graves' prints off your things and his abandoned truck that was sitting in your drive. Their idiotic conclusion? He was simply lost in the ever-expansive woods. Lost among the shrubbery and shadows, a victim to the unusually cruel predatory gazes of wildlife that watched his every move; ready to strike him down and feast like royalty till their bellies almost popped.

"What did the sheriff make the call on for tonight?"

The cop, who had been interrogating you, turned to address another policeman who was examining your small living room with boredom written all over his young features.

Before the way too young-looking man could answer, an older British voice called out "Why don't you ask 'im yourself, deputy?" The smell of strong cigar smoke suddenly started to assault your senses.

An older gentleman, with ashy brown hair and a thick jungle of facial hair, strode into your home. One of his hands supported the straps of his bulletproof vest, the other held the burning cigar that stunk up the small interior of your home in a matter of seconds. A plume of smoke exhaled out of his nostrils when his beady eyes swept over your kitchenette till they landed on your inquisitive expression. He pressed his cigar to his full lips for another inhale as if he had all the time in the world to stink up your home and trigger your body to sneeze at such an offending smell. "Sorry, sir. " The deputy uttered apologetically, eyes dropping low in embarrassment he was intimidated by such a commanding presence of his superior.

With another exhale of thick grey smoke that makes your nose wrinkle the sheriff approaches you. His right hand extended out for you to shake while he introduced himself to you as if his last name wasn't sewn so neatly into the black fabric of his uniform. "Officer, or sheriff John Price. I don't think we've met." His glove was rough against your skin, but his grasp was gentle while he shook your hand. His free hand plucked the cigar from his lips, teeth leaving bite marks over the damp end he had been sucking on. " Boys couldn't find anything here, miss except for disturbed gravel and prints from the wet grass out back. We can't pull anything significant off those marks, unfortunately. Could have just been a bad attempt of some break-in just to scare a young woman and her guy friend."

Your eyebrows creased, hand slipping out his light hold quickly. Angry hornets in your skull turned into a full-on battalion of those large Asian wasps that had excellent memory. They were banging around against hard bone, buzzing so loud and pissed that they threatened to burst out of your ears and sting every single cop here. Especially Price, they'd sting him right on his stupid gruff face. "But whoever was here, didn't steal anything they just left --"

"The flower behind, yes. The lads at the lab will run it to see if there's any DNA on the stem or even petals. Any clothing fibers or hair strands will be alerted to us right away, but there's nothing we can do. You know how rowdy teens these days are, they'd do anything to scare the grown adults into a heart attack for fun." Price quipped, finishing your sentence.

Your eyes rolled, frustration growing rampant like a disease over your face. An infection that Sherriff Price wasn't so susceptible to being a victim of. One bushy brow rose at your childish irritation from the denial he and his men had rubbed into your face time and time again. "Rowdy teens just don't make a grown-ass man disappear without a trace. Rowdy teens aren't capable of breaking cleanly into my home and not stealing anything of value." Your voice raised, brows pitching up and causing frown lines to crack along your smooth features.

"And rowdy teens don't scare the fuck out of me and make me want to look over my shoulder from now on after tonight. There's someone out there who is taunting me, and I want him or she or them to leave me alone." You're standing by this point. Chair kicked out behind you, your hands slammed down onto your table. Hot black caffeine spills over the dark marble of your dining room table. You're glaring daggers into the older man's eyes and he gobbles it all up without even a reaction to your worked-up outburst. He's not afraid of little girls screaming and trying to embarrass him, he's dealt with all of this before. Not this scenario, but high and haughty women who thought they were number one.

Price blinks, takes a step back silently, and turns his head to address another policeman loitering around; unsure what to do. "Have one of the guys do a stake out for twenty-four hours around her home, if anything is outta place you call me right away." Then he turns his gaze back to you, smiles that forced smile one makes when they're uncomfortable. Eyes crinkled with a lack of warmth that only manages to irk you further than comfort you. Temporary support does little to quell the ball of a bundle of nerves that is your nervous system right now.

"Have a good night, miss." Price dismisses himself. That awful cigar of his shoved back into his mouth and steps back out the front door. His men follow that were lingering inside your space, all except for the deputy that had been interrogating you. That's supposed to be your rough and rugged surveillance system for the next twenty-four hours until you can justify scraping enough money aside to get your surveillance just for this place.

Price exhales a continuous cloud of smokey grey into the night air. His head tipped back enough to trace out a few major constellations in the sky with curiosity, all while the other two cop cars that were parked out front drove off nonchalantly.

Bright teeth, stained slightly yellow from tobacco clamp further into the cigar's end while he fishes out of his many pockets a cell phone. Pretty outdated, the screen is cracked and the little processor moves at a snail's pace. A real piece of shit technology that holds a few private numbers that aren't saved under any typical name.

His gloved thumb jams against the screen a few times on one of those particular contacts and he holds the cell to his ear whilst unlocking the driver's side of his car and climbing inside. Cigar stamped out into the ever-growing ashes of his ashtray, he taps his fingers against the steering wheel in wait. The line rings once, twice, and on the third ring the call is picked up and a deeper British voice answers in a grunt of a ' hello ' to Price.

"You've got one hell of a firecracker there, Riley." Price cracks out, tone joking. "You've worked the little bird up into a tizzy, she seemed ready to jump 'cross the table for me."

The other voice only gives out a scoff, a monotone 'really?' . Price can only picture the hint of a cruel smile curling on the ends of Simon's lips now. "Boys' are none the wiser, I'll tell 'em it was just a bad prank gone wrong. The station will be none the wiser. Poor blokes." He chuffs. The engine of his car starts, and he reverses out of the drive. The silhouettes of his deputy and you awkwardly standing in your living room window bring another good-humored huff out of his ash-riddled lungs. "Don't make me bury your girl under missing person reports if you're too rough with 'er." Price mutters low over the line. Simon only scoffs on the receiving end, like he'd never hurt his precious girl. He'd be damned if you were taken from him by his own hands.

"Jus' keep an eye on her when I can't. " His voice rumbles like thunder in Price's ear, then hangs up the call with a sullen click.

Price sighs, tossing the backup cell in his passenger seat. His dark eyes focus on the lonely road back into the city. His radio in the car is buzzing with life of officer chatter, but he's not paying much attention. He's got to figure out how to stuff this darker piece of work underneath a rug without leaving wrinkles of his involvement behind. The old man was never one for the double life. A charming foreigner passed for a white-collared American who was there for the people at every righteous beck and call of his name. Then a grimy soldier for the kind of men that worked on setting the bastards that cops or other forces of power were too busy or pussy to end the right way; with a bullet in the head and their name smeared in blood as a warning for other bastards to behave or else.

A kind of work he did far before the ' never do no wrong' persona of his was adopted onto him. Now juggling both for one of his boys? Someone that he even dared to be considered as close as family to him? What had he gotten himself into, all for the sake of some weird iteration of what Simon called infatuation and obsession for a pretty little thing he only saw for one night and wouldn't stop planning on when to see her next. Price wanted to call him crazy when Simon opened his mouth and asked if he could do him a favor. Lie. Lie and cover his white English ass as much as he could just till Simon could convince his new obsession to think about him in the same way he thought about her. Convincing was putting it lightly, but Price didn't second guess or even ask. He knew what it was like when the parasitic love bug decided to rear its ugly head and bite you clear on the ass when it wanted to. Back when he was a younger man, back in his prime he had a sweetie. Soft and curvy, supple and sweet under his lips and to his heart. A fond memory he likes to include when he thinks about family from time to time. Something of his past he's left behind for a new rendition of a family that was strong men, sweat, blood, near-death experiences, and bonding over strong liquor after their work.

Anything for them, he supposes while he turns the car towards the station for the biggest sack of shit he could regurgitate out of his aging vocal cords and lets it spill in sticky white lies to doe-eyed men and women who wouldn't think twice to clean record Sheriff John Price.

"If you need anything, here's a walkie. Can't give out personal cells to citizens, but I'll be in range for us to talk." Deputy Dipshit tells you when the loud slam of car doors and the starting of engines signal the squad's retreat along with the Sheriff's.

You frown down at the cold chunk of plastic that was pressed into your smooth palm by the male. You feel immature even to be using this thing. But you don't argue, or say how stupid it is not just to use cell phones for this one dire situation. You accept the stupid walkie with little dignity that was now washed away by telling the police what exactly you and Graves were doing before he was attacked and taken away.

The walkie is tossed onto your neatly made mattress, weariness makes your eyes droop and your hands rub at your face. At least you're alone now, your crappy watchdog is settled inside his vehicle, protected by his sidearm and tazer. Your feet blindly patter against the dark cherry oak of your bedroom floor a ragged breath of exhaustion leaks out of your lungs like a deflating balloon. You pray to whatever gods or goddesses up there in the cosmos, watching over every single little thing with sadistic eyes, that they are protecting Graves. You could never stomach the fact that somehow you managed to get him killed for even touching you or being in your presence. You're not that special or even have that much power to illicit someone to commit manslaughter just because they were jealous or overprotective.

That's something from a fucked up dark romance novel that has mentally ill women squirting over the tall morally grey character that would do anything for their love interest.

Your phone screen buzzes from your bedside table, the obnoxious vibrations and chirpy ringtone of ' Kim Possibles ' phone ringtone blares into the short-lived silence and the even shorter prayer you were making for a man you barely even knew.

" Give me a break!" you groan out between clenched teeth that temporarily bore in a snarl to your lit-up screen. You shouldn't act like that, what if it was your friends reaching out to check in on you? They knew Graves was coming over to visit you and to ' catch up ' in more ways than one, maybe this was them poking their noses into your business and wondering how good Graves managed to fuck you silly five ways from Sunday. If only.

Another deflated-like balloon sigh and you snatch up your phone to see who texted you. Yet as much as you would kill for the spam of messages that would spew from Izzy and Veronica about how well-endowed and lickable Graves was in all his glory, it was far from their girlish text messages. An unknown number glared up at you. The notification on your locked phone screen, which was a picture of you and your childhood dog in your old home smiling at the camera, showed that the random number had texted you.

"Guess the police actually can text you, who knew." You mumbled under your breath, your tone still acidic on your tongue while you unlocked your phone and tapped on your message app to open the chat and read the text without even hesitating to check over the number thoroughly.

"Hello there, pretty girl." the text read.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Headcanon: Katniss tries to help Peeta at the bakery and burns her wrist. From then on until it heals after her bath at night Peeta sits behind her on the bed and brushes out her hair slowly and rhythmically

Can I interest you in some domestic post-mj fluff (or maybe it's hurt/comfort?). You'd think I'd know how to classify this by now. Rated somewhere between G and T depending on how you feel about non sexual nudity.

Enjoy!

<3 kdnfb

I’ve always hated burns. The way even the smallest of them causes excruciating pain. And now I have hundreds of reasons to hate them. And even though, as a baker, Peeta’s used to small burns on his own skin, he always submits to my care when I demand he let me soothe his hurts with whatever cold substance we have available. Ice from the freezer. Cold water from the tap. Snow from the ground if it’s winter and he tells me about the burn while we’re walking home.

But that hasn’t made it easy for me to accept his caring when I hurt myself. Sometimes, I’d rather hide it from him and find a closet to hide in while the memories of my sister feel contained in that tiny new burn, making the already unbearable pain into something unimaginable. At times, I think I may combust once again, the blaze starting at the new wound and consuming me within seconds.

This time, though, I can’t hide it. Peeta was right beside me as we were baking. He was trying to show me how to make the cheese rolls I love so much.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he holds my arm under the tap, running it full cold over my wrist. His grip on me is too tight to allow me to even pull back, let alone escape and run away.

I watch his jaw clench and rest my forehead on his chest, repeating my apology as the tears in my eyes burn almost as badly as my wrist. I want to collapse, but Peeta’s body pressing me against the sink won’t allow for even that.

“Stop it, Katniss. Stop apologizing.”

“I ruined them. I ruined the rolls,” I whimper and turn my head enough to spot them still scattered on the floor from where I dropped the tray after it slipped just enough in my grip to burn my wrist.

“I don’t care about the rolls,” he says and then twists his body, reaching for the cabinet where we keep the burn creams.

He sets it down on the counter and then grabs my chin, forcing my head up to look at him.

“Hey. Look at me, Katniss. I’m right here. Don’t look away. Say it.”

I take a few deep breaths, entranced by the depths in those blue eyes. The plea in them that whispers to me, begs me to understand his terseness. “You don’t care about the rolls.”

“I really don’t. Come on. Let’s get some ointment on this.”

It still stings, the ingredients designed to continue cooling the area and numb it as well. But it’s never enough to completely get rid of the pain.

I only know when he’s done because Peeta scoops me into his arms and carries me upstairs. He sets me down on the bathroom counter and starts the water in the tub, drizzling in fragrant oils. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says and gently kisses my forehead. “I’m just going to make sure Buttercup doesn’t find the rolls and try to eat them. Don’t get in the tub alone.”

He’s only gone for a few minutes. I don’t budge during that time, but the tub is close to being full so Peeta turns off the water and helps me down from the counter, slowly stripping me, careful of my burned wrist. Then he lifts me up and lowers me into the tub.

As his arms retreat, he grips my injured arm and holds it out of the water before setting it on top of a rolled towel on the edge of the tub. I’m only half there as he brings a stool, screeching loudly on the tile floor, right next to the tub. Only half noticing the feel of his hands washing my body, all except for the injured arm. 

But he must wash my hair because when I am able to note my surroundings again, we’re seated on the bed, positioned so that I’m gazing out the window, watching the breeze play with the curtains and the vibrantly red, orange, and yellow leaves shivering in the trees outside. I turn my head slightly when I feel a tug on my hair and realize that Peeta is drying my hair. Carefully gathering up bunches of it and squeezing out the the water, absorbing into a soft towel. Again and again and again.

“Start your list,” he suggests and I inhale the soothing scent of the cream I use in my hair to make the tangles easier to brush out. The scent of rose oil, but not the cloying, mutated smell of Snow. Gentler, wilder, softer. Peeta works the oil in my hair as I start the list, with Cinna this time, because Peeta’s hands in my hair reminds me of my old friend.

My eyes drift shut and Peeta hums encouragingly as I keep talking. He brandishes a comb and when I shiver, he pauses.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s soothing, don’t stop just…” He waits and I breathe in deeply. “I used to comb Prim’s hair, when Mom couldn’t and… I miss my mother braiding my hair.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’m such a poor substitute,” he says, lighthearted and without any self-pity.

No one needs me.

I lean back and turn my head, until I can see his face. I bend my uninjured arm to cup his jaw and his hands fall away from my hair.

“Say it,” I whisper and tug on his blonde curls until his lips brush mine. “Say it, Peeta.”

“You like it when I comb your hair. Real or not real?”

“Real. Say the rest.”

“I’m not a poor substitute.”

We’re distracted for a moment as his lips move over mine. Until he gently pushes me forwards again.

“Let me finish, impatient,” he teases and I smile, ever so slightly. 

He resumes combing my hair. Steady and rhythmic, not unlike the way he kneads dough in the bakery, only much softer and gentler. Still, I find myself humming a quiet tune. A love song I remember my father singing for my mother. I don’t sing just yet though and the smile still curves over my lips when he’s done and secures the end of my braid with a leather hair tie. He bends over then and kisses my bare shoulder. 

It’s only then that I realize I’m wrapped in only a towel and stand to put on a nightgown. After, Peeta applies more ointment to my arm.

Every day after that, he helps me bathe and braid my hair, careful to keep my injured arm clean and dry until I can stand water on it again. When we finally deem the burn healed enough to no longer need bandages, I ask him to join me in the tub and scoot forward after he undresses, leaving room for him to sink into the water with me, His thighs hugging tight to my hips and his lips soft on my shoulders, the back of my neck. He gently grasps my wrist and bends my arm until he can kiss the small new scar. And after we bathe, he combs and braids my hair for bed.

[superblysubpar]

hi! figured i’d send in a little prompt if that’s okay, hope your writer’s block gets a little better :))

82. “I’ve been so horny all day.” for Steve if that’s alright! (up to you whether he or reader is saying it teehee)

ty in advance and have a lovely day <3

my blog is 18+

“You’re doing it again.”

Steve’s huff of breath leaves his nose loudly, glancing out of the corner of your eye, you find him banging his forehead lightly against the door frame. He mumbles something that sounds like sorry and spins on his heels, his socked feet slipping on the hardwood floors as the blue shirt disappears around the corner. Your mouth twists as you do your best to ignore his ass in the tight green athletic shorts.  

His woodsy cologne lingers, just as it has all day upon every interruption, mixing with the candle you have lit that’s supposed to smell like rain and autumn leaves. Remnants of your grilled cheese Steve brought you hours ago crumble on a plate, your fingers reach for an open bag of Sour Patch Kids as you click and unclick your pen. Popping a green one in your mouth, your lips pucker as you hum around the tart candy, highlighting a quote. 

Tangerine squares paint the floor of your living room, slanting and elongating more and more as the sun shifts, you smile at another quote from the director, making a comment in your notebook as you sit up. Propped onto your knees now, you quietly sing along to Frank Sinatra as your fingers hover over the piles of papers littered around you, searching for one in particular to make another note on. 

Steve can’t fucking take this. 

He leans against the center island of the kitchen, watching as your nose wrinkles when you go back to reading. You tap the pen to your lips as they move, reading out loud to yourself as your eyebrows furrow together. You're lit up in oranges and golds, his shirt and a pair of biker shorts so how could anyone blame him when he returns to the living room after barely five minutes since you told him he was doing it again. 

This time, as he quietly enters, you don’t say anything, eyes bouncing between the book and where your pen moves rapidly across the lined paper. 

Steve’s presence is all consuming, especially when he sits on you. His legs straddle your hips, thumbs softly rubbing at your lower spine and your head falls forward in a moan and he bites the inside of his cheek behind you at the sound. Steve presses a little harder, massaging up your spine as you go back to reading. 

The vinyl record crackles, Steve’s humming mixing with the scratch of your pen. You reach your fingers over your shoulder, holding a blue candy up to him - his favorite and your least - as you start telling him all about something you’re excited for in class. You light up when you talk about your project, about future ones, about an interesting fact you just read and so really, truly, no one can blame him for what he does next. 

Steve’s lips brush behind your ear, his nose skimming down the curves of it as his hands grip at your hips. Your breathy gasp of air is the only encouragement he needs to take it further. He nips at the dip of your neck where it meets the collar of his shirt, mumbling into your skin, “You’re so hot, you’ve been driving me crazy. I’ve been so horny all day.”

Your laugh makes his lips twitch against your shoulder blade, he whines at your teasing and the layer of fabric between him and your skin, “Babe.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I had no idea unwashed hair and studying did it for you.” You pop another candy in your mouth, trying your best to ignore the way he feels against your ass. 

He squeezes at your sides, fingers curling around your hip and he tugs lightly, huffing out of his nose again. “You’re so focused, and smart, and passionate, and you look so cute when you’re singing,” he kisses over and over, up and down your neck, smiling as you tuck your chin down and squirm underneath him, “And you did that little dance when I brought you food, and I heard you in here grumbling about too many blue ones too yourself and-”

“Well there are too many blue ones.” You frown, biting your lip as his fingers roam higher against your side, warm pads pressing lightly to your soft skin. 

Steve smiles and only hums in response, feeling how you circle your hips back against him. He’s not even sure you realize you did it and he knows you’re just as worked up as he is. Your yelp is cute when he smacks one of your ass cheeks, grabbing as much as he can as he groans in fake annoyance, “And then, you’re lying here all damn day, with this ass in the air. What’s a guy to do, huh?”

Your giggle cuts off as he ruts himself into you, hands sliding up and up and up until his weight is against your back. His fingers run down your arms, lacing with yours as he presses them down into the soft carpet. Steve rolls his hips, lips soft against your temple and then your cheek as your eyelashes flutter closed. 

“Hmm?” He hums into your jaw, “I asked you a question, pretty girl, gonna answer me?”

Steve’s breath is hot against your neck, one of his hands releases yours, traveling back down your body, skimming the band of your shorts and tugging, snapping it against your hip as he pushes himself into your ass harder. 

“St-Steve.” Your back arches as his name leaves you in a breath, your cheek presses to the carpet, exposing more of your neck for him to assault with this tongue and teeth. 

He nips at your ear, thick fingers pushing past the lace he finds as his hand curls around to your front. He chuckles into your hair as his fingers meet your slit, wet for him already. His tone condescending, “I don’t think that answered my question, what’s the matter babe? A little kissing and teasing and that big brain is already empty, yeah?”

Your clit throbs at his words, fingers curling and gripping for purchase in the threads of the carpet. The whine that leaves your lips is pathetic, rolling your hips back in search for more. 

His hand is gone faster than you can respond, both on your waist and flipping you before your eyes are blinking up at him dazed. Steve’s hands hold yours above your head, both of your chests heaving as he hovers over your lips. He ruts himself into you and you know that asshole isn’t wearing boxers. His length barely separated from where you both want it, twitches against you, felt through the thin layers. 

His mouth parts yours softly, tongue slipping over yours a little filthy. Rolls of hips and noses nudged into cheeks, he kisses you like he’s wanted to all day. He only pulls away when he needs air, smiling as you whine and loop your hands around his neck, lifting and following him. 

His hair falls over his forehead, the orange and pink sunset coming in cuts across his eyes making them golden, his cheeks a complimenting tint that grows darker as he takes in your face too. He lets his top lip skim your bottom one again in a soft and brief pass, hands squeezing at your waist. Who’s he kidding, teasing you and trying to be all suave - Steve doesn’t even remember his middle name with the way you’re looking at him. 

His breath falls against your lips as he pleads rather than commands. 

“Can I fuck you so good all the studying you did today was for nothing?”

[golbrocklovely]

alone together // colby brock

A/N: happy valentine's day ! i've been wanting to do a fluffy fic about colby ever since his cancer diagnosis. i just wanted something that would brighten up everyone's day. so today felt like the best time to do it. this is only a blurb but i think it's a really nice, comfy fic. i've been feeling a bit lonely recently, and something like this just hits me in the warm and fuzzy. hope you enjoy ! i made it gender-neutral so that everyone could enjoy it. lmk what you think <3

prompt: you and colby finally had a day to yourselves, and this was exactly how you wanted to spend it. || gender-neutral!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: SUPER FLUFFY, literally nothing else

word count: 862

~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often you got to just relax with Colby. He was always busy: whether with phone calls, meetings, travelling, photoshoots, or any other business dealings. That man didn't know how to have time off. And you were in the same boat. His work ethic inspired you immensely, but also made you ridiculously tired.

You craved for the days where you two could just sit and do nothing. They were far and few between, but when they came... you knew how to spend them well.

And this was one of those days.

You had the house all to yourselves - Sam and Kat deciding to head out to LA to hang out with some friends. They weren't going to be back for a while, so you knew you had plenty of time to just be alone.

And while the prospects of being alone together sounded like the perfect time to get intimate, that wasn't what either one of you wanted right in this moment.

You guys were relaxing in Colby's bedroom. Yes, you did have the whole house to yourselves, but his room was always your favorite place to hang out. The lights were low, the bed was cozy. You two had just finished making a homemade pizza - well technically you made it. Colby stood there and supported you morally. God knows that man doesn't know how to cook anything but a grilled cheese.

Colby had turned on a random movie, one that neither of you really were paying attention to. Your body rested against his, cuddling into him. You absentmindedly traced his heart tattoo with your right hand. His skin was warm under your fingertips. His breathing was rhythmic and slow. Deep within his chest. You would have assumed he was sleep with how deep he was breathing, but you could see out of the corner of your eye he was staring at the screen. His one arm was wrapped around you tightly, rubbing your exposed waist.

You craned your neck back to look up at him. His blue eyes almost looked white from this angle, his pupils wide. His jawline was relaxed but sharp, something you always thought was super attractive about him. His cheeks had a light flush to them, his lips slightly pouty. They looked so soft, and they were, and all you wanted to do was reach up and kiss him. A barely noticeable five o'clock shadow was growing in, causing him to look just a little bit older in the dim light.

He glanced down at you, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped a beat for a brief second. How he was able to still do that even after all this time surprised you.

His eyebrows raised, his eyes almost glimmering, "What is it, babe?"

You felt his voice rumble through his chest under your hand. His voice was only just above a whisper, but still incredibly low. Somehow his more hushed tones always sounded so much deeper than his normal voice.

"Nothing. I just wanted to look at you." You murmured, your eyes still looking into his.

"Like what you see?"? He asked cheekily, a light smirk on his face.

You giggled. "Of course."

Colby's hand cupped your face for a moment, brushing your hair back behind your ear. Now, it was his turn to look at you.

You watched him watch you. His eyes studied your face, every single part of it. You could see his eyes take in every bit. You wished you could hear what he was thinking. You could almost see how each part of your face was affecting him, his eyes telling a thousand stories at once. He drank in your face until he was drunk. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was just too drunk to speak.

You worried for a moment if he saw the flaws you'd pick out easily, but the moment his eyes landed on your lips and smiled, you didn't care. He had told you many times in the past that there was not a single flaw on you that he did not like. Everything about you to him was amazing. Everything about you was fascinating.

"Like what you see?" You repeated, your hand rubbing his arm.

His thumb dragged across your jaw softly as he spoke. "How do you keep getting more beautiful every day?"

You felt your face heat up from his words. You were tempted to roll your eyes at him, but instead you just responded with "Luck, I guess."

"Then, I am the luckiest man ever." He stated sincerely.

You held your breath for a moment, his tone surprising you. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

Time felt frozen right then. All you could have hoped for was to stay like this forever. And you knew deep inside, past your insecurities and doubts, that Colby felt the same way as you.

That man loved you, more than you could ever fully understand.

Colby pulled away; his forehead still pressed against yours. His eyes still closed, he breathed deeply.

"I love you." He whispered.

You hummed; your heart full. "I love you too."

[lostinwildflowers]

YO (idk if I can do two together like this but) number 17 from the gestures prompt matches SO WELL with the first line from the dialogue list ("Hold on, let me fix this for you." ) LIKE OMG. IMAGINE THAT WITH HAWKS. IM DEAD ALREADY.

Smudged

Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Reader

Summary: A dressed up night is unusual for you and Hawks, yet all you want to do is go home and relax together.

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW, Hawks being a flirty shit, fluff<3

A/N: Just for my special Nem Nem! I've actually been on an MHA kick so this works in my favor. Enjoy some ~shmexy~ Hawks! -Birch<3

Prompts used:

1. "Hold on, let me fix this for you."

17. Standing still as your lover rubs smudged lipstick/lipstick stains off of your skin, catching them off guard by pressing a kiss against their fingertip.

Waiters and waitresses rushed by your table, platters of fine wines and cheese charcuterie boards bustling past. For one of the fanciest and highest-rated restaurants in Japan, you somehow felt uncomfortable.

Your husband, Keigo, sat across from you at your premier seating arrangement. Your view was gorgeous, you couldn't deny it.

It was a red brick rooftop overlooking the city below, with the sun setting across the skyscrapers, painting them in soft shades of lavender and baby blue just as the sun was sinking.

The city below you was alive, it was Friday night after all. Horns honked on the roadways below, everyone rushing around to meet up with friends or get home to watch the newest episode of their favorite show.

The best view was the one sitting across from you- Keigo. Leaning back in his chair, he seemed completely unbothered by the looks the two of you were getting.

It wasn't hard to see why he was the best sight around. His blonde curls were soft and smoothed out of his face, just a stray curl falling out of place to lay on his forehead.

His hair was longer than usual, but you didn't seem to mind. You preferred to run your fingers through the feathery pieces when they were longer, as it gave you a way to draw him close to you.

Keigo's skin was clear and ever so slightly dewy from the heat of the night, the bastard. Paired with his golden gaze and dark, thick lashes, he was glowing.

The part that seemed to have you bewitched was the white button-down covering his torso. It was a plain, white dress shirt, yes, but Keigo made it look like it should have been on a runway.

The sleeves were rolled up neatly to his elbows, showing off his strong and thick forearms. To fancy up his outfit, he even wore his newest watch, the silver glinting with the rays of the sun.

As if that wasn't enough, a few bands of silver covered his fingers, the rings enhancing the length and thickness of the digits, which you had to keep steering your mind away from.

Keigo seemed to be on a roll trying to distract you because in addition to his arms and hands looking inviting, the top two buttons were undone around his collar. His defined clavicle poked through, the necklace with your initial hanging around his neck making your heart flutter every time you looked at it.

To top it all off, well-fitting black slacks and dress shoes pulled the whole look together. And he had the audacity to sit across from you and not even realize he was a heaven-sent angel.

"Hey love," his voice rips you out of your trance, "I'm thinking I either want the grilled chicken salad or the pork shogayaki. What do you think?"

His eyes flash up to meet yours innocently, his golden gaze genuine as he gauged your reaction. He gets distracted looking at you though.

There you are, looking shy and uncomfortable, yet breathtakingly beautiful. Your hair was pinned up on your head, leaving your neck accessible to the air to stay cool.

Small bits and pieces of jewelry donned your ears, wrists, and neck, but nothing too flashy. Even though Keigo promised to take you to the fanciest place in Japan, you didn't feel like standing out.

A black dress was your first choice, the cut tight around your waist but flowed out around your hips, the fabric perfect for getting twirled around the dance floor.

Keigo's favorite part about your look? The deep burgundy lipstick that glimmered almost too much on your lips. They just looked so kissable, so bite-able, that he was completely distracted from ordering.

You look back at your husband, giving him an uncertain smile before mumbling, "Oh, that all sounds lovely, but..." You trail off as another set of waiters hustle by, and you scooch toward Keigo to avoid them.

His hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your chair, his gaze following the wait staff to ensure none of them touched you by accident.

When the coast is clear and he turns back to you, your face still holds a hint of nervousness. He smiles at you softly and asks, "Spit it out, love."

You close your eyes and huff before picking up his golden gaze and murmuring, "I kind of just want to go home."

Before he can say anything, you wave your hands in front of you and protest, "And it's not because dinner isn't going to be good or I don't enjoy the view, or that I don't appreciate you bringing me to this really fancy-" "Y/n/n," he cuts you off.

He gives you a wide and cheeky grin as he replies, "Doll, I was waiting to see how long it took you to break." Your mouth falls open in shock as you playfully swat at him, but he chuckles and catches your failed attempt.

Instead, he clasps your wrist and hauls you to your feet, walking you around the tables to the edge of the restaurant. His wings poof out behind him, and he releases your hand to step up onto the edge of the roof.

Then, Keigo turns around to face you, well aware of the gazes of everyone around you glued to his spectacle. He grins wickedly before offering you his hand and stating, "My lady?"

You roll your eyes as you take his hand, and just like that, you are whisked off into the sunset. You can't help the laugh that falls from your lips as he wraps his arms around you, the wind tugging at your clothes and hair.

Keigo tries flying as smoothly as he can to get you home comfortably, but he also enjoys the time he can have you wrapped up in his arms without a care in the world.

The second you land on your specialized balcony after your short flight, he sets you down gently, wrapping his arms around your waist. Keigo gazes down at you softly and whispers, "I don't care if we go out to the fanciest place to eat or stay in and order KFC. I just want to see you smile and be happy."

Your hands come up to play with the hair at the base of his neck as you whisper back, "I am happy." He smiles at you gently, leaning in to kiss you before he freezes.

His sharp gaze manages to see a smudge of lipstick at the edge of your bottom lip. Must have bumped something on the flight home.

You pout as he pulls away from you, and it takes everything in him to not lean down and smash his lips against yours at the plushness of your lips. Keigo just chuckles and says, "Hold on baby, let me fix this for you."

Your body stills as one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek gently, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip to clear off the small red stain. Just before he can completely pull his hand away, you ever so slightly lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his finger, painting it red.

You can feel his body pause against yours, and you giggle at the red suddenly dusting Keigo's cheeks. "Good to know I still have that effect on you after all these years," you joke, tightening your grip on his hair.

"Oh love, you have that effect on me every day. And in this dress?" He whistles at the end of his sentence, his gaze flickering up and down to take in your appearance. Keigo's words are flirty, yes, but his eyes are full of love as he leans into you, gently nuzzling your nose against his own.

"Keigo Takami, are you just trying to get in my pants?"

"Y/n Takami, are you always this enchanting?"

"C'mon bird brain, show me how you'd like to clean up this lipstick."

"I can think of a few different positions~"

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Cuteness!

Cuteness

Timeline: Present

Alternative Universe: Swap Maturity AU

May grinned, chuckling as her new friends gathered closer and closer, tied into it by a certain missing ebony.

The awkward atmosphere was still plenty palpable, but the more they talked and mingled, the more many of them had realized they all had quiet a bit in common.

And yes, May was going to get at Ash for forgetting to mention how many cool people he knew. The dude had the memory of swiss cheese at times, which still baffled all of them on plenty of occassion.

"Anyone got any insight in Ash." Brock tilted his head, the ten year old mullishly picking at his pokedex. "I thought, he was gonna be here sooner."

"Either Indigo held him up, or he got lost." Max grinned, taking the plate offered to him by Bonnie. "You know how they are."

"Just cause we know it, doesnt mean we get it." Came the grumble, Brock glaring at the plate of chicken offered to him.

"Worse comes to worse, we get a Jenny and preform a search party." May waved a hand, feeling her phone vibrate for the briefest of seconds before she flipped it open. "Man- they choose the worse timing, it would have been a great search party too."

"They're here?" Dawn prodded, leaning to look over her shoulder.

It didn't really matter much, as they all felt the smallest tug of a teleportation, ears popping at the subtle change of atmosphere.

Suddenly, they heard the thundering of footsteps, watching Peach burst in with the flamboyance only ten year olds seem to manage.

"HELLO!" She threw her arms up and threw her head back, like a tiny little rockstar in the making. "WE ARE LATE CAUSE OF THE TERRORS!"

May snickered, rolling her eyes as Indigo came running in shortly after, hair askewed and desperately trying to fix it. His face was tickled pink, burning brighter as he glanced at everyone.

"Oh fuck." Indigo breathed out, wincing slightly when Misty shot him a glare. "For the record, here and now, I wanna say we've had a hellish few months, we didn't actively choose to not tell you."

"Gogo, what are you even talking-," And Bonnie's sentence trailed off, the older teen sitting up straight as her mouth dropped open.

And May followed her line of sight, taking in Ash as he sluggishly walked in, eye bags bruised and hair frazzled.

Still, when he caught their eyes, he grinned, face considerably brightening.

"Come on now." He drawled sarcastically, shifting his shoulder slightly. "This isnt the weirdest thing you caught me doing."

And May's eyes traveled down, right into the two kids settled neatly into Ash's arms.

One child, couldn't have been older than two, peered over the swaddled blanket he was in. Big red-brown eyes stared right back at her, a pout settled on his lips. The kid has black hair from what she could tell, contrasting against paler skin.

The other child must have been only a year older. Maybe three? Maybe not. But he was a small bit bigger. Black hair toussled with streaks of pink, big blue eyes glancing at everyone nervously as he tried his hardest to sink into Ash's shirt. Unlike the other one, he had a tanner skin, nearly the same tone as Ash's.

May completely froze, barely registering any sound as her eyes darted from Ash, to the two children in his arms.

"What the fuck," Iris dropped her plate onto the table, blinking slowly as she stepped forward, then back, then forward again.

"Oh yeah-" Ash lifted up baby number 1, the two year old scrunching his face and making an odd movement with his hand. "This is Red, Red Ketchum. He's 2 years old and he can't speak very well, so we've been teaching him sign."

The baby made another movement with his hands, coordinated in a way that May had an inkling she knew less and more than she was supposed to.

"And this-" Ash lifted up baby number 2, the Toddler having a vice grip on ash's shirt, uncaring of the way he dragged Ash's shirt and jacket up. "Is King, King Ketchum. He's 3 years old, but he doesnt like people very much. Just give him a bit of time to get used to everyone."

The silence might have been much more all consuming, if it wasnt for the way that Indigo and Peach both walked to the center table to start serving themselves food, one looking exhausted and the other gleeful.

"Cute kids." Serena mumured out, her eyes still wide as she turned to look at everyone else. "So, where did you even... Did you- did you make them?"

And Ash's demeanor fell, an annoyed look to his face that would have made her flinch is May hadn't known her friend.

"Oh, let me tell you all what happened." He sighed, striding forward with a story on his shoulders and 2 toddlers in his arms.

Oh, May was gonna remember this day forever.

[f1-giuki]

ooohhh, could you write a blurb for lestappen (fluff) with saturn from sza pretty please? <3

Hi sweet sweet darling💖💖💖💖💖💖 tbf I have never listened to sza before but boy was I missing out!!! the song catches you over time and as I was writing I got very into it!!!! so here's your drabble!!!! hope you like it💖💖

saturn - prompt post

“I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s so fucking blue!” Charles mumbles, looking at the small round window in their compartment.

“That’s home, Charlie!” George mumbles, floating around upside down.

The International Space Station is a long and narrow corridor of high tech, full of strange machines and plants. And it’s Charles’ lifelong dream and mission, to spend at least a month up there. He’s up there, now, alongside a strangely young crew of other five astronauts, all friends and fighter jet mates.

This whole space obsession began when Charles was four, on the balcony of his best friend’s house, watching the Monaco Grand Prix, in the streets of his city. He dreamt of driving one of those red spaceships across the sky, and maybe meeting someone else, an alien or a fellow space pilot. Charles still laughs when he thinks about how his mother was afraid that her son would end up racing at more than 300 kph every Sunday. She got him travelling at twice the speed of sound in the sky. She wasn’t that happy about it, but Charles got to fulfil his gay Top Gun meets Star Trek fantasy.

The journey from Kazakhstan was a good three hours of hell and noise, but Charles was lucky to arrive smoothly, not explode during take-off, and not have anything to do for the first two hours of his arrival. That’s why he has colonised the window over the Earth and has no intention to leave it to anybody else for the next few hours, unless Daniil, his Russian mission mate asks to watch, then he’ll have to be a good person.

“Has he already claimed the window as his?” A voice asks.

“Max!” Charles shouts, sharply turning around and ending up against the other side of the compartment, smashing against some equipment with his head.

Max laughs and gracefully floats next to him, rolling his eyes and opening his arms. Charles snuggles inside of them, hugging tight Max. The last time he saw him, it was at mission camp back in Baikonur, three months ago, when Max left for his eight-month mission, bringing up in space a little replica of Schumacher’s 2002 F1 Ferrari and giving him a bruising kiss before leaving.

“Sorry I wasn’t there for the docking, baby, Robert saw something on the sensors and I had to do a fun spacewalk to fix something,” Max mumbles, kissing Charles on the head. They’re slowly tilting to the right as they hug, and Charles wants to laugh. He’s in space with his boyfriend, what is up and what is down doesn’t matter anymore to him, those are just smoky layers of debris nearby, he doesn’t care right now, what he wants is blue. The blue of the Earth and the blue of Max’s eyes.

“Bodily fluids tend to float around in here…” Logan whistles, making Daniil laugh.

Max rolls his eyes and smiles as he hears the rumble of Charles’ laugh against his chest.

“Wanna make out in front of the panoramic view?” Max asks and Charles nods, enjoying how Max’s warm hands guide him to the window.

Charles inhales against the soft and salty skin of Max’s neck and he thinks of home. Whether in a small flat in Paris, a giant home in Florida, up in space or even on the rings of Saturn, Charles thinks that with Max by his side, everywhere would feel like home, so he kisses Max to cement his discovery. A small step.

“Say cheese!” Logan says as he takes a picture with an old instant camera and prints out a photograph of Max and Charles kissing in front of the Earth. 

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to @elsie-writes here and here!

My words: behind, yell, couch, bird, away, eyes, stretch, moon, worm

Your words: present, just, unaware always

Tagging @whatwewrotepodcast @talesofsorrowandofruin @leahnardo-da-veggie @pluppsauthor @sunset-a-story

@eccaiia @buffythevampirelover @space-writes @alinacapellabooks @rickie-the-storyteller

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

Keep reading for:

Kelsey's first appearance

Noelle's grilled cheese opinion

Meet George

I'm using a different definition of bird

Gwen and Akash meet

This is based on a true story

Scary telepathy facts with Carla

Gwen and Akash are dating now <3

Gross Halloween Party games

Behind - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

I snuck up behind her before tackling her in a hug. Kelsey yelped, but laughed, giving me a semi-hug back; the best she could give from the awkward angle. “Hey, Maddie,” Kelsey greeted, taking her backpack off the chair she saved for me and moving it to the floor. She removed the pods from her ears and shook her head to knock her short, choppy hair out of her eyes, but her bangs just fell back in her face. I took the now-empty seat next to her. “Your glasses are smudged.” Kelsey removed them and rubbed them on what I hoped, for the safety of her lenses, was a cotton shirt.

Yell(ing) - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“Best grilled cheese sandwich?” Noelle stopped, thinking. “Sourdough, Cheddar and Muenster, sliced tomatoes, sauteed greens, sliced pear, ham, and cut into two diagonal pieces.” Silence. I peeked into her mind. “Could you by any chance make that sandwich sometime?” Noelle smiled slightly. “Sure.” “Told you Muenster was the best,” Liam said. “Which means, I win.” This ensued more overlapping yelling.

Couch - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

Carla and a taller, older boy were sitting on the larger couch. The boy—or maybe young man—held what appeared to be a granola bar in his hand, out of a wrapper. A world of dragons and portals and they still have regular food? On the table in front of him sat a plate with other unwrapped granola bars set on top of it. Jeez. He wore earrings and a red beanie-like hat with a green fringed jacket over an orange crewneck. His bright blue eyes against his skin tone reminded me of Maddie. Based on the state of the room, I couldn’t help but wonder if these two lived alone.

Bird - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Ash POV)

“The rules of this exercise are simple,” said Wade from the other side of the room. “The goal is to remove the other team’s necklace. If your necklace gets taken, you cannot get it back—you are out. You can attempt to incompacitate your opponent, but the ground rules is that you can’t knock them unconscious. We don’t want any serious injuries.” “Boooo!” Jazlyn and Parker said from next to me. Wade gave them the bird from across the room. They just returned it.

Away - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

I realized I was staring when Akash smiled. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” When I didn’t answer, he added, “You want me to help you down?” I nodded, and Akash wrapped his arm around me. I flinched slightly—a cute boy was touching me!—but allowed him to do so. I let go of the vent and let him fly me to the floor. I suddenly realized I had wrapped my arms around him. I quickly pushed away from him. “Thanks,” I muttered. I glanced off to the side and panic ran through me when I noticed a bed. I could feel my cheeks turning red. I just fell into a cute boy’s room! As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough.

Eyes - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

Shelby giggled as she reached for a cookie in the center of the table. “And what happened next?” I sniggered, trying to hold my laughter in so I could tell the story. “So—” I burst out laughing. Shelby rolled her eyes, but while smiling. “So, Mr. Taylor got mad at Jasmine for not playing soft enough and?” “And—” I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “And Jasmine said, ‘Mr. Taylor, I wasn't even playing!’” Shelby burst into a fit of laughter as her dad walked into the dining area.

Stretch - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

Carla fiddled with the ring hanging from the chain around her neck. “The mind can only stretch so far. If advanced telepaths did—or even do—exist, there would be no way they could function. Their minds aren’t able to communicate the information that they can comprehend. They end up lost in their own thoughts, unable to reach out to another being.” I fell silent.

Moon - from The Secret Portal Part One

“You’re right. But… tomorrow?” “Sure. It’s a—” Gwen stopped herself. “It’s a what?” “It’s a...n event. That I will mark. On my calendar. My mental calendar. In my head.” “Oh. Okay.” Akash took a deep breath. “I… just thought you were gonna say date.” Gwen felt her cheeks burn up. “Only if you want it to be.” “I would want that,” Akash said, smiling shyer than usual. “Cool.” Gwen wasn't sure if she was nervous or over the moon, but she looked around, trying to find a distraction. “Hey, look, is that Gills under that sheet?” “Yo, Gills!” Akash shouted. The person in the sheet turned. “Yes, it’s Gills.” He raised his voice again. “So lemme guess: you’re a ghost!” “No, I’m a high schooler in a sheet!” Gabriel replied. “Ah, that’s a unique costume!” “Says the person dressed as the most recognizable character in the world.” “Not this world!”

Worm - from The Secret Portal Part One

“Ooh!” Lexi gasped, pointing at a table with a bag of Skittles and cups. “Is that the Skittles game?” “Skittles game?” Robbie asked. Lexi smiled deviously. “It’s disgustingly fun.” “You use your mouth to put the Skittles in the cup,” said Parker. “Whoever has the most wins.” Robbie scrunched up his face but smiled. “Aw, that’s nasty. I love it.” “Gummy worm spit!” Maddie gasped. “Yes!” “You’re welcome,” said Tyler from the punch table. “Oh, by the way, in the center table there’s a jar of candy corn. Write down how many you think are in there. Whoever gets it closest gets the entire jar.” “Time to write down 5 million,” said Akash, floating over. “I hate candy corn.”

[ilikebookssomuch]

hello hi yes this is pt 3 of my kidnapping Sophie & Dex au so yeah anyway. No one has told me if they do or don't want to be tagged so I'll just keep tagging the few people I know and if you want to be tagged then tell me :)

(also I promise this gets sadder but we aren't to the truly good part yet. Soon.)

Mr. Forkle’s POV

  Errol L. Forkle, the elf who created Project Moonlark, was at a loss for words. The Collective stood around him, along with Tinker, Calla, Lur, Mitya, and Physic. Squall, who was a Froster and used her ability to crust herself in ice to conceal her identity, was the first to speak. 

“I just got back from Havenfield. Grady and Edaline are a mess, and so far there has been no sign of Sophie or Dex,” her voice caught on the last few words, and she leaned against the wall of the treehouse. The Black Swan had decided to meet in Alluveterre, a hideout consisting of two massive treehouses with a gazebo in the center. 

Everyone was gathered around in the boy’s common room, but no one was relaxed in the slightest. Mr. Forkle tore his hands through his hair, asking Tinker, their Technopath, if she was getting anything from the registry feeds of the kids.

“Nothing,” Tinker spoke very little, and today was no exception.

He knew that if Tinker, who was without a doubt the best Technopath he’d ever met, couldn’t track down Sophie or Dex, it was a very bad thing. The only other time that had happened was when Jolie…. No. He wouldn’t give up so soon. 

“We’ll keep searching. Lur, Mitya, can you travel to Havenfield? Perhaps the earth will give us clues.” 

The two gnomes nodded and slipped away. 

“Granite and I will consult the Council. The rest of you are free to go. Physic, go to Slurps and Burps and stock up on healing elixirs and balms. I suspect we’ll need them.” Physic nodded, her emerald-studded mask swaying. After she leaped away, he turned to the remainder of the group. 

“You are all welcome to stay here, but I think Squall has family matters she must attend to.” Mr. Forkle looked pointedly at Squall's frozen form. With that, he took Granite’s rocky hand, raised his pathfinder, and stepped into the beam of shimmering light.

Twelve glimmering castles came into view as the warm rush of light faded. Granite and Mr. Forkle found Emery’s bold sapphire blue castle after a few minutes of searching. Mr. Forkle used the ornate door-knocker, waiting precisely eighty-three seconds until a dark-skinned face with a sapphire-studded circlet answered the door. 

“What are you doing here? And who are you two?” Emery asked, glancing at Mr. Forkle’s bloated skin and Granite’s statue-like appearance. 

“We must save the introductions for later. We’re here about two young elves that have seemingly gone missing. Do you have any inkling as to where they might be?” Mr. Forkle asked, shoving the door open to reveal a luxurious room full of blue and white furniture. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, which stretched high above their heads. 

“If you’re talking about Mr. Dizznee and Miss Foster, no. We are trying our best to track them down, but wherever they are, they clearly didn’t take their registry pendants. There hasn’t been a signal from either of them since yesterday evening. And I must ask again, who are you? What do the children have to do with you?” said Emery, a note of confusion creeping into his voice.

“You can stop trying to surpass our mental defenses, Councilor Emery. We both sensed you the second you furrowed your brow in concentration,” Granite said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pathfinder.

Emery’s face morphed into shock, and as Mr. Forkle was pulled away by the light, he heard Emery say, “Are you with the Black Swan?”

@myfairkatiecat @ilov3b00kss0much @stunning-mess @ham-cheese-toastie @alaydabug2 (again, you can tell me if you'd like to be tagged when I post more!)

[six-white-venus]

if you ever see him, there is just one thing you would like to ask him:

how do i forgive?

because you've been trying, lord knows you have. it's been a year. he never loved you. it's as easy as that. why can't it be as easy as that?

you recently came across a letter you wrote him after he left, one where you're begging him to come back. you tore the paper copy into shreds a long time ago, but this one must have escaped your notice. you remember his response to the message. a thumbs-up emoji.

"whose name will i call, a thousand times over?" it said, "who will I call my love, my love, my love- exasperated, scandalised, laughing? who will I call?"

it's been a year and you know the answer to that question, more or less. no one. you will call no one. you will sit and stare at the paint peeling off your wall, that ugly, powdery blue that has started making your skin crawl. you will sit on the cold kitchen floor till your mom pulls you to your feet and brings you tea. you will call no one. you will make yourself forget.

except, it's not that easy.

he pops up in every mundane aspect of your life. the other day you found a keychain you bought him a month before his birthday, a month before he left you. you give it to someone else because why waste money? it's not like he lives in it.

(but he does, he does, he does.)

he is dating someone you used to know. you don't care. you want to throw up. you just want to ask: how do I forget?

a friend recently asked you, "do you think you had a savior complex, when it came to him?" you said you didn't, but maybe that's not the whole truth. maybe you did have some sort of twisted need to save him in every single way possible just so that he'll love you.

i would help you stitch yourself up. i swear i won't scream when you gut me like a fish. i will feed you soup and keep you warm. i won't sob when you knock my portion to the floor. you bleed. i do, too. no, you're right. i don't bleed as you do. I'll never understand. i am so sorry. i love you. do you love me?

after a week, you receive two texts:

lol kys ily <3

you are so happy you could sob.

he does none of this now, apparently. he smiles instead of smirking. he cradles things. he tends to wounds. he calls her baby. he says, "I love you so much." the whole thing, all spelled out. how crazy is that?

and you just want to ask: how do I stop caring?

he always held you between his teeth. there was nothing gentle about it. the bite marks on the back of your neck still hurt and you could swear it still bleeds. your mom says you're imagining it. you must be.

but here's the thing! you have people who hold you in their arms now. they are so gentle, so careful with you. you didn't cry, not once, under the clutch of his canines but now in their arms, all you do is cry. it's so strange. and you really are happy. it's so much better than what it used to be. you wake up and he's not the first thing you think of, not anymore. you dream that he apologises to you (you forgive him every single time). you go to therapy. you don't remember the last time you cried over him. you are loved, but not by him. you never were.

it doesn't matter, because you know what love feels like now. it is popcorn and nacho cheddar cheese seasoning and mutton curry. it tastes like tea and chips in an orange package and instant noodles you made with your best friend the day before she left for college. you know love now. you know happiness.

but in moments like these, you can't stop yourself from thinking that if you see him again, you would like to ask him one last thing:

how do you stop missing being held between one's teeth?

[walnutcookie]

can i ask what cheddar's curse is :333333333 3 33333 :333 :#3333333333333333333333333333 :3:#3333

HI I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKEDDD. :33 THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK /GEN. you have unleashed hell i am about to write so many paragraphs /silly /pos

ok to rb!

I need to draw a picture of them without the shadow sometime but. basically that glint in the shadow over cheddars face?

thats not their eye. they dont have an eye there anymore. instead it is a jewel :]c a cheddarstone to be exact. And it is very cursed!

still need to figure out exactly how it goes but when the blue cheese manor burned down they reached for the cursed jewel that their family had and They survived! They technically cannot die! but living isnt exactly easy

inside of them is a ton of Dark almost ink-like goop,, its like. Anti-life force. It seeps through their skin slowly and if it seeps out too much cheddar has to fight for control. if it gets really bad they lose control entirely. the only way to keep it from seeping out is by absorbing pure life force. they can obtain it through being around someone as they die, but more effectively they can kill people themself. Which is pretty easy since!! touching anti-life force kills a person IMMEDIATELY literally all cheddar needs to do is touch someone and theyre dead.

of course, if people knew that she was doing this, theyd be arrested immediately so theyve found ways to be sneaky about it :]c

for one, they cover themself up as best as possible. Literally from the head down its completely covered - giant coat, gloves, boots, etc. plus the hat covers not only the jewel in their eye but the anti-life force goop growing on his face!!! They avoid being in crowds or tightly packed spaces and theyre careful not to ever touch someone - while the clothing helps, it doesnt completely negate the curse, so while a brush of the shoulder may not kill the person itll at least drain them which will look suspicious.

obviously this quote wasnt related but shh its about Universe A. to me

cheddar has basically made themself untouchable (both metaphorically and literally).

say, theoretically, they need to take another victim. theyre travelling with macaroni on oh, say, a train, and they find a random cookie isolated in a train car with nobody around to witness anything. they peel off their glove and put their hand on the victims mouth, muffling their scream and killing the person instantly, and then they gently lower the body down so it doesnt make a noise as it hits the floor. next they use a knife to stab the person a few times - theyre already dead, but since touching them wouldnt give any indicators toward the cause of death, they have the perfect opportunity to create a false story behind the murder of this cookie and frame someone else for it. all they need to do after that is call macaroni to come see and he'll practically do the work for them!!!

ive mentioned this on one of my posts before but i headcanon that macaroni. cannot. stand. mysteries. he has to have them solved ASAP otherwise he CANNOT rest easy. he wont be able to eat or sleep very well at all. it makes him so anxious as much as he loves mysteries

Cheddar uses this to their advantage! theyve created a person in macaroni's head - someone whos lazy, who doesnt put much effort into their work, someone who doesnt rely on real evidence very much. How would someone like cheddar manage to frame someone else for a murder theyve committed and get away with it? especially since cheddar is around macaroni 24/7 and hed never expect them to do something in like the five minutes that they sneak away. not to mention cheddar has been working for the cbi even longer than mac and why on earth would a cbi agent kill someone for (seemingly) no reason??? In reality cheddar is actually much smarter and observant than they make themself seem but mac is in HEAVY denial about it because he doesnt want to have to think about his work partner being a murderer. Better to come up with other solutions (which cheddar so generously offers to him by framing people) than to point the finger at cheddar and raise dozens more questions that may be left unanswered. Plus the thought that all of the deaths cheddar caused would technically partially be macs fault. And as much as cheddar annoys him, mac has grown pretty attached to them.

someone could literally yell at mac and say LOOK!!! CHEDDAR HAS BLOOD STAINS ON THEIR COAT OH MY GOD!!!!!!! and mac will just laugh and say Haha that must be from lunch yesterday :) LIKE. cheddar has just made the perfect alibi for themself. they can never be accused of any crime because mac will defend them no matter what just to keep his own sanity

all of the killing and murder and crime aside cheddar is. Fucking miserable. shes so insanely touch starved bro they havent had a hug since like 1806 (except for like one person CCOUXGGHT COUCGHE GOUCGH ROUCYEO CAPPUCCINO COUGH COUCGH SPUTTER COUGH thats another post entirely though if anyone sends an ask abt it ill talk about it) and they try to make themself seem unlikable towards macaroni and try to distance themself from people and avoid relationships because even just a high five or a brush of the shoulder could be fatal. its too much of a risk, and its not one theyre willing to take.

he is fucking Smitten for macaroni theyre so head over heels for that girl but they just! CANT!!!! they cant get close to him because then he might DIE and not only would they lose the person they love but that would mean that their precious alibi is gone and theyd have to be extra extra sneaky about things to make sure that nobody catches them committing crimes. not to mention because of the way they act macaroni fucking HATES HIM. one sided yuri my beloved

anyways yaay ill stop there before this post gets too long X] theres more stuff about these two (including actual yuriful fluff NO WAAY) if youre curuois or have any other questions just shoot me an ask id love to answer!!!!

as always i dont think this is canon by any means it is all just my silly headcanon au because i think cheddar should be fucked up As a treat👍have a nice day If you read all of this i loveyiu so much /p

[dollygirl808]

Ch. 3 of A Helping Paw

Obsessive! Werewolf/Weredog 141(+extra) x Chubby! OC Freya

Masterlist

That night, Freya drempt about a man with a hot accent that she couldn't quite remember whispering sweet nothings and pure filth in her ear, and she woke up slightly confused and a little overheated. Lifting her head and blinking the sleep from her eyes, she found that she had buried her face in the back of Soap's neck fur, and he was nestled right up against her.

When she moved he stirred, and turned over to face her as much as he could with his body pinned under her thick thigh, which didn't actually offer him much trouble as he rolled on his back.

She had always preferred that position when sleeping, often waking up to find her leg curled around a pillow or her partner when they shared a bed. She released him from his thigh prison.

His tail fluttered under the covers excitedly, making rustling sounds as it swept back and forth. He gave her his best impression of a smile, licking at her chin with his long tongue.

"Mm, goodmoring pup," She yawned, kissing the side of his head before settling back down, feeling warm and content.

Soap just wiggled impossibly closer, happy to be pet idly as she slowly woke up. Occasionally, he'd let out an impatient whine and paw at her arm when she stopped, making her huff in amusement and start petting him again.

As he's laid on his back snuggled up to her, she felt something warm and slimy bumb into her elbow. The sudden wet feeling touching her skin makes her jerk her arm away and pull back the covers, only to discover that he's hard.

"Oookay," Freya said, sitting up, "That's enough of that, bud. Time to get up," She told him, throwing the covers off of her and getting out of bed.

He whined, attempting to coax her back into bed as he rolled onto his stomach and looked up at her with his best puppy eyes, light blue contrasting nicely with his fur. She doesn't yield, but does pet him.

"You're a very handsome boy, but I need to get up anyways," She spoke to him like he could understand her, then put on some comfortable slippers and padded into the attatched bathroom.

Her morning routine consisted of brushing her teeth and washing her face, then drawing herself a nice hot bath and having a good soak, idly scrubbing at her skin. Multiple times Soap licked at her bare skin, usually along her arm or her leg when she propped it up to shave, and she has to shove his nose away multiple times so he wouldn't lick off her shaving gell or soap.

Usually, she'd love to soak for upwards of an hour, or however long the water remained warm, but her temporary companion insisted on staring at her like she'd cease to exist if he looked away for half a second or blinked even once, and it got to be a little much. She even attempted to coax him into a down, but he refused and even put his front paws up on the edge of the tub like he planned on jumping in, and that made her panic slightly so she ended her bath early.

It wasn't even that she minded so much that he was staring, he was just a dog after all. But it was a strange thing, to feel watched all the time. Even when she closed her eyes she could feel his piercing blue gaze boring holes into her bare skin. No one had ever stared that intensely at her, not even her boyfriend.

She pushed back the thoughts, drying herself off after getting out and wrapping up in a nice silk robe that ended it just about mid thigh, pink with pretty white flowers and a black trim and belt.

Soap followed after her into the kitchen, and she made sure to clean out and refill his waterbowl with fresh water before she went about prepping his breakfast, getting out everything she needed and cutting up his pre prepped portion.

After, she went about making her own food, cheese omletts, and she felt bad that Soap only had meat to eat, and nothing else. She doesn't have any tasty extras, no toppers or anything, so she asked him to sit while he was in the middle of eating. He obeyed, with a cute confused tilt to his head, and she cracked an egg over the rest of his meal and left him the shells to eat or pick out if he didn't want them

"Do you like eggs, bud?" Freya asked, and got a happy little arf in response. She smiled and left him to it.

After she's finished cooking, Soap joined her once again on the couch while she ate and watched her little shows on the TV, half curled in her lap. After relaxing for a little bit, she decided that he needed to get out to do his buisness and exercise.

"Wanna go outside Soap?" She asked, and laughed when he perked up, hopping down so she can stand. He walked over to the door, looking back at her expectantly when she doesn't immediately follow.

"I'm sorry pup, gotta get dressed first." She told him, heading to her bedroom to change with him right behind her. She put on a simple yellow sundress with black sandals, and grabbed multiple different toys along with a chuckit- and thank god for that, her legs were still sore and achy from the hike yesterday, and she didn't need her arms to fall off because she was throwing a ball a hundred times over.

She sort of needed her arms, being a writer and all, although it's not like she really needed to work which how much money she still had from her parents and grandfathers inheritance, tucked away in a savings account for safekeeping.

She opened the door, and Soap ran out, right to the edge of the forest to pee on a scent urgently. He trotted around the edge then, sniffing at the ground and bushes and roots, occasionally marking on something that he didn't like or just claiming the area as his own.

While he did his business, she looked down at her phone to call Nikolai. Holding her phone up to her ear she looked back up and saw Soap wondering into the forest. She didn't think much of it as she watched him walk over foliage with his long legs, that was until he started getting further and further out of sight to the point where she actually lost track of him.

Panicking, she hung up on Nikolai before he had a chance to answer and rushed after the dog. By the time she made it to the edge of the forest, he was already walking back.

"Soap, you scared me!" Frey huffed out, feeling her irrational amount of panic subside. To his credit, he did lower his ears and let out a low whine, appearing sorry. She sighed, and leaned down to kiss between his eyes.

"Good boy. Don't wonder off so far, yeah?" She whispered then stood up, "If I loose you I'll have to skip town and I'll never be able to return to my childhood home out of shame, and you wouldn't want that would you bud?"

He huffed out of his nose at her, flicking his tongue at her fingers. She walked back to her porch, sitting on the hanging bench. Just as she got comfortable, her phone rang. She answered and put it on speaker.

"Goodmorning zaika," Nikolai's deep, sleep ladden voice rumbled on the other side of the receiver, catching her off guard.

"G-Goodmorming," Freya stuttered out, mentally cursing herself for feeling flustered. She had a boyfriend, for fucks sake! But that deep, accented sleepy russain voice? It really did her in.

"You called?" He yawned out, and she scolded herself, feeling guilt gnaw at her for waking the poor man up, having the audacity to find his morning voice stupidly attractive, and also for having a boyfriend whilst she thought about Nikolai like that.

"Ah, yeah- sorry for waking you," She quickly offered, pressing the ball into the chuckit and tossing it over the porch for Soap, and he reassured her that it was fine, he had to wake up soon anyways. "I wanted to ask if Soap didn't like men? We were on a hike and this random guy tried to pet him and Soap snarled and snapped his teeth at the guy. He seemed like a shifty person after the fact but I thought I'd ask."

Soap hopped over the railing, chasing after the orange ball. "Ah, I see. He does not like strange men touching him, and he is more tolerant of women, but I do not recommend letting too many get close. Soap is impulsive and immature, but he wants to make you happy."

He dropped the ball in her lap, huffing through his nose indignantly and stomping one of his big front paws.

She snorted, "You are so dramatic, bud. Lil impulsive drama queen, arent you?"

"Ah, did Soap hear me?" Nikolai chuckled, and she could hear what sounded like him getting out of bed.

"Yeah, he huffed and stomped his foot at me," Freya giggled, reaching out to pet him. He pouted, ducking his head a little as he looked up at her. She clipped the ball into the the chuckit, and held it up, "You still wanna play or are you mad at me?" She asked, wiggling the ball in the air. He huffed again and sat back, so she threw it for him and he chased after it.

He waited for a moment to make sure her attention wasn't entirely on Soap, "May I ask you a question, zaika?"

"Oh sure! What is it?"

"Yesterday when I mentioned Price was on deployment you looked.. sad," Nikolai said, unanswered question like a splash of cold water.

"Oh.. um, yeah," She said, voice dipping into a hushed, sad tone.

"Can I ask why?" He asked, voice much softer than his usual deep rumble.

"Well.. both of my parents were military. And they both died during deployment in a military related accident when I was 16." Freya told him sadly, watching Soap jog back up the stairs.

"I'm sorry to hear that, zaika," He told her honestly, voice solemn.

"Yeah," She sighed, "But it's been a while now. I've already been through the grieving process, with my parents and my grandfather."

They were both quiet after that for a bit, and she threw the ball for Soap again before he spoke up.

"Last night I managed to call Price, and I found out some more information. He has another dog being watched named Gaz, and they both only came to him recently. He took them in on behalf of an old friend of his who he promised that he'd take care of them until he could find them more permanent homes."

"Oh," She breathed out, already feeling that familiar twinge. She almost wanted to curse her father and grandfather for spoiling her so much, both in life and death, making her crave to have everything she wanted, and always making things work out for her.

She wanted to keep Soap, actually. Almost felt sad when she discovered he had a loving home somewhere nearby. And now, finding out it was only temporary until he found his new forever home? She had to scold herself for being spoiled, Jake didn't like dogs much and he did live with her in her little city apartment. Soap wouldn't be happy there, would he?

But he loved it out here, didn't he? Out in the country, in her old family home. Wasn't it time she stopped being a city girl and came home?

"Detka?" Nikolai asked, russain accent thick as he used some word she didn't know- probably calling her a silly little airhead for going mute for so long, stuck in her own head.

"Oh- Uh, yes?" She finally snapped out of it when Soap whined and nosed at her hands. She pet him absent-mindedly.

"Would you want to come meet Gaz? He is here at my shop today, you are free to stop by and visit," He told her.

Freya nibbled on her bottom lip in indecision, checking the time on a phone and noting that it was already 11am, well past when Jake said he'd be back. Only after Soap barked at her impatiently, jumping up onto her lap with his front paws did she answer, almost accidentally stumbling out a, "Yeah, sure," in response.

"When would you like to come?" He asked, and she could hear him presumably moving around his house, getting ready for the day.

"Uh, when do you open? I don't have any plans today- except wait for my boyfriend to come back from hiking and introduce him and Soap. Hopefully successfully." She told him, throwing the ball for the pup again.

But as he was about to jump over the railing again he paused, almost mid-jump as he landed paws-up on the railing, big blue eyes looking back at her over his fluffy shoulder with an expression she couldn't quite place, although if he was capable of such emotion she'd assumed it was betrayal.

"Ah- boyfriend?" He ventured carefully, "Best to be cautious with Soap, he can get possessive with people he like. I am about to leave soon to open, I'll be in the shop if you left now."

"Ok, yeah, sure," She said, already standing up. She was already dressed, mostly in anticipation of seeing her boyfriend again, but he wasn't back yet, and now that she thought about it she didn't really have a plan for introducing him to Soap, and she should probably figure out what she's going to do when she does, considering how quick the dog was to snap at that man yesterday.

"I'll leave now then, and meet you there- is that.. is that ok?" She asked at the end, unsure, not wanting to rush him into getting ready.

Nikolai chuckled on the other end of the phone, "Of course detka, you and Soap are welcome anytime, yes?" He rumbled, deep and amused. She felt herself flush, nodding although he couldn't see and agreeing with him, promising to meet him there soon.

Water bottle, keys, purse and leash in hand, she opened up the door on the driver's side of the truck, knowing Soap would end up across from her even if she put him in the back seat anyways. "C'mon pup, let's go vist Nikolai, yeah?" She called to him, smiling sweetly when his head tilted cutely at the familiar name.

Soap let out a high pitched 'ruff' and hopped in, settling quickly in his seat as she set her bottle in the cup holder and her things in the floor space of the passenger seat, earning her a quick wet kiss on her exposed shoulder, to which she rolled her eyes affectionately at.

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Taglist: @cringeycookies