#go listen to some type o today!

[korpuskristae]

This year today marks the fourteenth anniversary of Peter Steele’s death, rest in peace Green Man 💚

(Picture taken from the Type O Negative Revolver Magazine)

[bingoboingobongo]

in his eyes

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: explicit language, slight Gaz x Reader, i wrote the first draft w/o my glasses in the dark while listening to airplane sounds so forgive any typos

A/N: nothing is more humbling than hungrily fishing for pickles with chopsticks. also yes i wrote this instead of part three of awuass. anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated, enjoyyy :)

“Soap! Wait up, man,” Soap heard from behind him. He stopped walking and turned to see Gaz chasing behind him.

“You need something, mate?” Soap asked, confused. It wasn’t that he and Gaz weren’t close or anything — they were — but he had never seen Gaz so desperate to talk to him. He waited for Gaz to arrive, shooting him a concerned look when he had to stop and catch his breath, which Gaz just waved off. “Where were you coming from that’s got you all out of breath like this?” he asked.

“The training room,” Gaz said, taking another deep breath. “I sprinted here just to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Soap was confused, he couldn’t think of a situation that was urgent enough for Gaz to come chasing after him, but not urgent enough for Price or one of the higher-ups to find him.

“You know Stick?” Gaz asked, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards. Soap was even more confused, of course he knew. You were Stick. You had gotten the nickname after you kept asking the guys to look for chapstick while they were on missions. Apparently you had lost the one you packed when you first arrived on base, and since then you had always been on the lookout for it. Soap had been the first one to call you it, although he called you Chapstick at first. Somewhere down the line though, it had been shortened to Stick and no one really questioned it.

“Yeah, what about her?” Soap asked.

“I just saw her and the lieutenant down at the training room, they were sparring together.”

“You mean Ghost?

Gaz nodded, which only left Soap more confused. Perhaps it was a little odd for you to be sparring with the lieutenant, given the general height and size disparity, but it wasn’t completely out of the question, and certainly not important enough to warrant such an extreme reaction from Gaz.

“Is that it? They were training together?”

“Of course not,” Gaz said, as if it were obvious, “I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between them. He was acting so weird around her, I’m telling you.”

Soap’s interest was piqued. “You mean you think they’re hooking up?”

“I don’t know about hooking up but there’s definitely something there, you can tell just looking at them.”

Soap hummed. You and Ghost, huh? On the surface, it wasn’t an absurd conclusion for Gaz to come to, the two of you did hang out together a lot, which held a lot of weight considering the kind of man Ghost was. But thinking about Ghost blushing over some school-boy crush on a girl just seemed insane. He was a 6’4 killing machine with more deaths under his belt than Soap could count; Soap just couldn’t see it.

“You’re reading into things, pal,” he said, punching Gaz lightly on the shoulder, “you really think Ghost’s got a crush on Stick?”

Gaz rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you man, there’s something there, for real. He was like a whole different person today while they were sparring. I swear to God he looked at her like she was the bloody Queen of England.”

“You think Ghost’s in love with the Queen of England?” Soap asked, smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Gaz said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s something there, I’m pretty sure I saw him smile at her for a moment.”

“He took off his mask?” Soap asked, surprised.

“Of course not, you idiot.”

“Then how could you see if he smiled, genius?”

“I saw his mask shift.”

“You saw his mask— Are you messing with me?”

“Oh fuck you, Soap. You know what I mean. It was in his eyes too, like, he looked at her like he was in love.”

Soap snorted, that idea was even more insane than Ghost blushing. “Alright, good one, Gaz. You got me.”

Gaz sighed, “I’m serious mate, I swear. Tonight, at dinner, I’ll show you. Just watch him, see how he looks at her, there’s no way he doesn’t like her.”

Soap rolled his eyes and began to walk away, “Whatever you say, Gaz,” he said nonchalantly. But despite his incredulous behavior, he couldn’t help but wonder if Gaz had a point. He did see Ghost hanging around you a lot, but he had assumed it was just coincidence until now. That being said, coincidences didn’t just happen over and over and over again.

That night, he decided to take Gaz up on his offer. He went to stop by his room before dinner, but before he could say anything Gaz shushed him. 

“Get in, quick. Ghost’s gonna be coming down the hallway any second now,” Gaz explained in a whisper as he tugged Soap into his room.

“You're stalking the lieutenant now, Gaz?” Soap asked.

“Oh piss off,” he said, “he always stops by her room around seven, and then they walk to dinner together. It’s been happening for about a week now.”

“So why’re you only telling me now?”

“Because I figured he was just reminding her of dinner or something. But after today,” he clicked his tongue, “no, there’s definitely something more there.”

Soap watched as Gaz creaked open the door ever so slightly, positioning himself so that he could just barely see out of it. Low and behold, Gaz was right. He heard Ghost walking down the hall before he saw him, but then he was there, just a few feet diagonal from them, knocking at your door.

He watched as you opened it, and said something he couldn’t hear, before closing it again. Ghost stayed outside of your door, leaning his weight against it as he stared down the hallway.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Soap asked. 

Gaz didn't answer, instead choosing to motion wildly at Soap as a signal for him to be quiet.

A few more minutes passed before you opened the door again. You looked surprised to see him there, but your surprise quickly morphed into a smile and the two of you left Soap’s line of sight. Gaz kept watching for a while longer, before shutting the door.

“See that?” Gaz asked.

“Did you hear what they said?” Soap repeated.

“He said something about dinner, and then she said she had to finish something up. I think it was a TV show or something. And then when she opened up the door she asked what he was doing there and that he didn’t need to wait for her.”

“Did he say anything in response?”

Gaz sighed, “I don’t know. I swear I heard him say he was happy to or something along those lines, but his voice is so damn low and his accent doesn’t help.”

Soap nodded slowly, “So he’s been doing this every day for a week now?”

Gaz nodded, “Usually he doesn’t have to wait for her though. They just go straight to dinner.”

Soap paused, staring at the ground for a moment, “Should we follow them? See if we can catch them doing something else?”

Gaz stared at him for a moment, his face thoughtful. “I’ll do you one better, Soap. How about you go up there and pretend to hit on her, eh? And then see how Ghost looks, I swear he’ll probably beat you up.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Soap asked.

“Because I’m not trying to get on Ghost’s bad side.”

“Well, neither am I,” Soap cried.

Gaz sighed, “Fine, I’ll do it. But you owe me for this. And you have to watch Ghost’s face. I’m not about to put my life in danger for nothing.”

Soap nodded, and the two of them made their way out into the hallway. You and Ghost had already exited, but it wasn’t hard to catch up. Gaz motioned for Soap to be quiet, and he watched as Gaz crept up behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump up in surprise.

He watched Ghost turn and glare at Gaz, and he could swear he could feel Ghost’s glower from a mile away. Soap ran to catch up to the three of you, just in time to hear you jokingly berate Gaz for scaring you.

“I swear to god, Kyle, if you didn’t have such a pretty face I would slap you right now,” you said, jokingly raising your fist at him. Soap immediately turned to look at Ghost, who’s eyes looked like they could probably kill. Soap took the chance to run ahead of you three, facing you guys as you walked down the hall together.

“Woah there, Stick,” Soap said, placing his hands out in front of him in fake concern, “we can’t have you threatening Gaz here, can we? I’d have to snitch on you to Price for that.”

“Oh screw you, Soap,” you said, laughing. Soap didn’t miss the way Gaz had managed to wedge himself in between you and Ghost, and he also didn’t miss the murderous glare Ghost was shooting towards Gaz.

“You guys going to dinner?” Soap asked, eyeing Gaz warily as he not-so-subtly put an arm around your shoulder.

“What is this? What are you doing, Gaz?” you snorted, holding up the hand that was wrapped around your shoulder.

Gaz opened his mouth to answer, but Ghost beat him to the chase. “She’s right, sergeant,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Get your hands off her, just because we’re off duty doesn’t mean you can just forget about the rules.”

Gaz clicked his tongue and nodded, slowly snaking his hand off of you. Soap didn’t miss the told-you-so look Gaz shot him as they made eye contact. 

You laughed again, “It’s alright, Ghost, he was just playing around. It's all in good fun, right Gaz?”

“You know it, Stick.”

Ghost’s eyes flickered between you and Gaz. Gaz had been right, Ghost was different when you were involved. Before, reading Ghost had been harder than reading a text in a different language, but now he was an open book. Soap could see every emotion behind Ghost’s eyes, anger, annoyance, betrayal?

“Besides,” you said, looking at Ghost, “you’re still my favorite.”

And there it was. The ‘something’ Gaz wouldn’t stop talking about. Love, with an undertone of adoration and maybe a hint of disbelief. Soap was shocked. There really was something between you and the lieutenant.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” Soap said, curious to see how Ghost would respond. He acted how he thought he would, his eyes snapping off of you and onto Soap, and maybe, just maybe Soap could see the slightest hint of blush on the edge of his exposed skin at being caught. “Are you guys going to dinner or not?”

You turned to look at him, a bright smile on your face as you nodded. “You?”

“Of course,” Soap said, “you guys sitting with us still?”

He watched as you turned to look at Ghost, who also turned to look at you. Somehow, the two of you managed to exchange some sort of silent conversation, because when you looked back you gave him a sheepish smile and said, “We’ll see.”

Soap watched you carefully, “Right then," he said, “come on Gaz, let’s go while the food’s still warm.”

He pulled Gaz out from between the two of you and the pair headed towards the dining hall, moving as fast as possible to try and get far enough away that they could talk about what had just happened.

“God, I guess you were right, Gaz,” Soap said, as they entered the hall.

Gaz clicked his tongue, “I told you so. I guess all it took was me risking my life to convince you.”

Soap chuckled, “You were gutsy back there, you know? God, if you saw the way he was looking at you? You better be glad he wasn’t armed or he probably would’ve shot you right then and there.”

Gaz snorted, “Oh I saw how he was looking at me, scared the shit out of me too. You know, they should give me a medal for that level of bravery.”

“I'll say.”

He followed Gaz as they went to go get a plate of food, before finding a table near the center of the room to sit down at. “You think they’ll come eat with us?” Gaz asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? They always eat with us,” Soap said.

Gaz hummed, “Could you see how stiff he got when I was standing in between them?” 

Soap laughed again, “Of course, I did. And when he yelled at you for putting your arm around her?”

Gaz snorted, picking at the food on his plate, “Oh god, you don’t know how fast my heart was racing when I did that. I was preparing my last will and testament and everything.”

Soap doubled over in laughter, but stopped quickly when Gaz tapped his shoulder repeatedly and hurriedly whispered for him to be quiet. He looked up, his eyes swiveling around before they landed on you and Ghost. He watched as you made eye contact with him; he let out a wave which you returned before moving towards the food. As always, Ghost was right behind you, but Soap could’ve sworn he was following a little more closely than usual.

“Is it just me or is he standing really close to her?” he asked Gaz, lowering his voice so they couldn’t be heard over the dining hall chatter.

Gaz shook his head as he pretended to toy with his food, “No, he’s definitely closer. Look at them, they’re practically touching hips.”

Soap watched out of the corner of his eye as you two finished getting your food. He saw you look over at Ghost and then nod your head in their direction, before you rolled your eyes with a smirk and went to follow Ghost to a small table in the opposite corner of the room.

“Did you see that?” Soap asked Gaz, his eyes flicking between him and you.

“I did, now stop staring before you get us all in trouble,” Gaz said, keeping his eyes focused on his plate. 

“Why do you think they’re sitting alone?” Soap asked.

“Why do you think? Ghost probably thinks I actually fancy Stick and now he’s trying to keep her away so she’ll pick him.”

Soap hummed thoughtfully, “I think you’ve actually got a point there, Gaz.”

“Damn right I do.”

“Do you actually though?” Soap asked.

“Do I what? Have a point?”

“No, do you actually fancy Stick?”

Gaz stopped to think as he took a bite of his food, “I mean,” he said, swallowing. “She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I’d probably try and at least ask her out under different circumstances—”

“But?”

“But if there's something going on between her and L.T. I’m not going to be the idiot that tries to get between them.”

“Really?” Soap asked, “what if there’s nothing actually between them?”

Gaz snorted, “Are you serious mate? After all this? I risked my life just to prove it to you and you’re still doubting me?” He shook his head. “There’s definitely something going on between them, get your head out of your ass. And — and maybe this is a controversial opinion — but I would like to return to my family when this is all done. I don’t have a death wish.”

Soap chuckled, tilting his head in agreement.

“Besides,” he said, gesturing for Soap to look at them again. He did, and through the mess of heads he could see Ghost cut off a piece of his food and feed it to you, a strangely domestic scene that went against everything he thought he knew about the cold lieutenant. “They’re kind of made for each other, eh?”

“Who’s made for each other?” asked Price, sitting down next to them with a groan.

“Sir,” Gaz said, stiffening, “didn’t realize you were listening.”

“It’s my job to listen, Garrick. Now answer the question.”

Gaz sighed, nodding his head towards your direction.

Price let out a sigh. “So you guys finally caught on, eh?”

“You knew about this?” Soap asked, turning to face Price.

“It’s not hard to notice.”

“Are they…” Soap paused, nodding his head suggestively.

“What? Dating?” Price asked.

“Sure.”

“Now that, I don’t know. I don’t think so though.”

“Do you think she likes him?” Gaz asked.

Price clicked his tongue, “Most likely.”

“Do you think he likes her?” Gaz asked.

“Most definitely,” Price said, snorting.

“Do you think he knows she likes him?” Soap asked.

Price chuckled, “MacTavish, I don’t think he even knows that he likes her.”

That comment earned a round of laughs from the three of them. But despite Price changing the topic, Soap couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you and Ghost. It was such a strange scene to see, you and him tucked away in a private table in your own little corner. He watched the way your eyes crinkled with laughter as you spoke; the way Ghost would interrupt you every so often with a piece of neatly cut food on his fork for you to eat it.

He could practically see the adoration oozing out of Ghost every time you rolled your eyes and took a bite; the way you practically stared at him with hearts in your eyes whenever he would ever so slightly lift his mask to take a bite of food. And for a moment, just for a moment, he swore he saw the corner of Ghost’s mouth twitch into a smile at something you said before he lowered his mask again. But even with his mouth covered, Soap realized Gaz had been right once more. Soap could see the smile in Ghost’s eyes. Soap could see everything in Ghost’s eyes, every single drop of love and reverence and adoration he had for you.

[shelbygun]

silent work

pairing: jonathan crane x fem!reader

summary: it was impossible for you to stay still in his lap

warnings: cockwarming, smut, dom!jonathan, reader is a little needy

a/n: i just need to be on jon's lap, now (pss, it's my first fic, so sorry for the spelling mistakes, english is not my first language!)

When Jonathan works, you must be silent. He would put you on his lap, with his cock inside you while his eyes ran over papers, and you must not make even the slightest noise, otherwise he would punish you. It’s simple. 

You never disobey that rule of silence, you are always with your pretty little mouth closed, your face hidden in his neck. Sometimes you even managed to fall asleep.  

But today you didn't feel so obedient. 

You were bored of listening to the papers pass through Jonathan's fingers, the unbearable typing of his computer. He was analyzing some records of his recent patients, that meant you had to be quiet and still, not disturbing.

But boredom was killing you, and it didn't help to feel the veins of his cock throbbing against your walls, making the desire to move increase more and more.  

You glanced at Jonathan's face, who was too focused on what was written on the papers, and something crossed your mind. 

"If I move a little, he won't notice." 

Then, unable to hold on any longer, your hips began to move very carefully, trying not to raise suspicions and to be as sneaky as possible.

You felt a sense of relief when you were able to move and have his cock finally act inside you in a more pleasurable way.

The slight circles that your hips traced on Jonathan's lap were increasing in speed without you realizing it, but he did.

"Stay still, I'm not done yet. " He murmured quietly, holding your waist to make you stop.

You complained. "Please, Jonny..."

"No. I said stay still."

You pouted, burying your face in his neck and giving an annoyed huff. You had been like this for about an hour or even two and you still couldn't move, it was totally unfair.

About five minutes passed and you couldn't take it anymore, you had to move and end this otherwise you would go crazy.

No matter what Jonathan was going to say, you started moving again. You let out a low moan, feeling like that light friction was a gift from God.

"Don't. Move." Jonathan growled.

You let out an annoyed whine, pouting. "J-just allow me a little, Jonny... I feel very full..."

He sighed, putting the paperwork aside and focusing on you. "I said no. Stay still now." He demanded, grabbing your hips tightly, stopping your movements. "You're behaving very badly, fucking slut."

"P-please! Just a little more..." You pleaded, looking at him with your puppy eyes. You felt needy, your little pussy was begging for more.

Jonathan looked at you thoughtfully, deciding what to do. Then he looked down at the union of the two of you and at the incomplete work on the table.

"Fine, I let you. Just be quick." he finally said, sighing and making enough room for you to finish what you were starting.

Green light to continue.

You were actually moving now, putting your hands on his shoulders to make it easier. The little jumps you did made you moan like a dumb whore. It was all so relieving for you.

"Keep going, little slut. I want to see you cum." He murmured quietly, amused by how you moved so quickly, wanting to reach your orgasm. "Such a silly girl, huh? Always in need of cock..."

You moaned at his words, which encouraged you to go faster and reach your goal. You felt his hands on your hips, helping you with the jumps.

“O-oh, fuck…” you let a light whimper, biting your lips. You felt your legs trembling, your pussy squeezing his cock and that knot in your stomach was about to explode.

With one last moan you cum, panting softly. The mess you made oozed from your lips, staining Jonathan's pants white. You felt dizzy, but your face had a relieved smile.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder, regulating your breathing. You still had his cock inside you, and you will continue like that until he finishes his work, while you feel your sticky liquid.

"Such a little slut, always in need of Daddy's cock..."

[hischierswhore]

eternal pining | jack hughes

pairing: childhood bff!reader x jack hughes

warnings: major angst // unrequited pining // slight cursing // probably other stuff that i missed

author’s note: this might be the longest fic i’ve ever written??? anyways i’m backkkk and hopefully i’ll start being consistent soon. i have so much planned and this has been in the works for quite a while now.

You were sitting on the couch at the Hughes lake house as you discussed your plans for the day. Well, more like you were listening to Ellen & Jim as they told you that they would be leaving on a trip for a few days and Jack was just there. He was on his phone, typing aggressively like the world would end if he didn’t finish whatever he was typing.

A sigh left Ellen’s lips when she realized that her middle child wasn’t even paying attention to what she was saying. You looked at Luke & Quinn, who both also saw that he was just not focusing. Quinn extended his arm to hit Jack’s knee in attempt to get his attention.

You said bye to Ellen & Jim, wishing them a safe trip before helping them carry their bags to their car. As you made your way back inside, you plopped right back into the same spot you were in before.

Moments passed and you turned your phone off, sparking conversation with Quinn & Luke about what the groups plans were for today.

“What do you guys wanna do?” You asked, hoping someone would come up with something fun.

“Boat day?” Luke suggested and you nodded in agreement.

“Are you gonna join us, Jack?” you questioned as you turned around to look at your best friend. His eyes didn’t shift from the device in his hands, causing you to roll your eyes.

You were annoyed, so you moved off the couch and walked to your room to change into your swimsuit.

"Where are you guys going?" Jack asked as you, Quinn & Luke walked towards the deck, his phone now off and on the couch.

"Boat day. We were talking about it but you were too indulged in your phone to even contribute to the conversation" Quinn stated as Jack's mouth formed an 'o' shape.

"Are you joining us or not?" Luke asked, waiting for his brother to respond so he could finally get some sun.

“Oh uh yeah. I'll join y'all. Just give me a few to change" He hopped up from his spot on the couch and went to his room to change while you made your way outside, the other Hughes brothers following.

10 minutes passed and Jack had not yet come outside. You were all getting rather impatient and annoyed with the boy.

"Can we just go without him?" Luke sighed, beyond frustrated with his brother. Just as he said that, the boy trotted out of the house and down the dock to where you all sat. You all immediately noticed his lack of swim trunks and rather a button-down shirt & some jeans.

"Hey guys. Sorry to bail on you all but I've got a date in like-" He looks down at his phone for a moment to check the time. "20 minutes so I've gotta get going. See you all later" Jack waved as he hugged everyone goodbye.

Your heart shattered the moment you heard "a date". You had been hopelessly in love with your best friend since you were kids. You'd known the Hughes brothers since you were 6, and you'd all been inseparable since day 1.

The ever-growing crush you had on Jack was evident to everyone around you except for him. Quinn and Luke would relentlessly tease you when you three were together. Hell, even Trevor and Nico would join in on the teasing whenever you saw them.

You faked a smile at his words, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in your eyes. You looked around at Quinn and Luke, who had already been looking in your direction, knowing damn well what you were thinking.

"Have fun, J. See you later" You said as you looked down, seeing as your mood had now been more ruined than it was before and you didn't want to deal with all your emotions, or rather the cause of these emotions, right now. You knew that if you made eye-contact with the boy, you would have a breakdown.

Jack jogs back up to the house and shuts the patio door, leaving you and the two other Hughes brothers on the boat for the day.

2 pairs of eyes immediately found your figure as you curled into a ball on the couch and let it all out. Both boys immediately came to your side for comfort, knowing how difficult this must be for you.

Luke rubbed your back as you sobbed while Quinn held you in his arms, holding you ever so carefully.

Hours passed before you all decided to head inside.

“I’m gonna head up to my room. If he asks, I'm out. I don't want to talk to him right now" You told the remaining brothers before going into your room and locking yourself away.

— later —

Jack arrived back at the lake house.

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” He asked as he wandered into the living room, noticing his brothers sitting on the couch watching a movie but you were nowhere in sight.

“She went out” Quinn simply said, not feeling the need to give his younger brother details.

"Out? What do you mean she went out?"

"She's not here, Jack. She wanted to go out so she did" Luke shrugged, trying to focus his attention back on the movie.

"And you both let her go by herself?!" Jack was practically shouting.

"She's 22 years old, Jack. She can make her own decisions" Quinn paused the movie to turn his attention to his brother. Jack let out a huff and sat next to his brothers to watch whatever movie they had put on, still ever so slightly upset that you had gone out without him.

20 minutes had passed since that initial exchange when Luke's phone got a notification. He glanced down at it and immediately got up and excused himself to the kitchen with a simple "I'll be back".

“What’s up with him?” Jack whispered to Quinn, who shrugged and paid no mind to his brother's curiosity. Moments later, Luke emerged from the kitchen and raced upstairs quickly.

You had texted Luke asking him to bring you some medication for the growing migraine you had from crying nonstop. He quietly knocked on the door to avoid attracting Jack's attention. You slowly unlocked the door and let the boy in as he handed you the pills and a bottle of water.

"You good?" He asked as you had a hand on your forehead and your eyes were red & puffy.

"I'll be fi-" The words got lost in your throat as you heard footsteps ascending the stairs and you saw the one person you did not want to see: Jack.

You muttered "shit" as you tried to hide behind Luke's tall frame, which was to no avail.

"Y/n? What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be out?" Jack asked as he made his way to your doorway.

"I uhh, came back early. Didn't feel too great" You lied through your teeth.

"How'd you come in? And when did you even come in?" Jack questioned you as he leaned against the door frame.

"Came in through the back door. Didn't wanna make too much noise to interrupt the movie" You slowly tried to push your door closed, but Jack was blocking the way.

Luke was stood there, watching the encounter unfold.

"Oh what's that Quinn? We need more popcorn? I'll grab some" He shouted down the stairs to remove himself from the extremely tense conversation he was witnessing.

“What’s wrong?” Jack's voice was low as he slowly pushed the door open and grabbed your hand.

“I’m fine, Jack. I just don’t feel good” You were on the verge of tears as you pulled yourself out of his hold.

“You look like you've been crying, Y/n/n... did someone say something to you?" Jack's anger slowly increasing at the thought of someone hurting your feelings.

"Nobody said anything. More so what you did. But I'll be fine, I'll get over it" Thankfully, he had back up enough to give you space to close the door, and his reflexes weren't fast enough to grab the door handle before you shut and locked it, leaving him on the other side of the door.

Your words left Jack extremely confused. More so what you did. What in the hell did he even do?

Once you had locked the door, you slid down the back of it as more tears spilled freely onto your cheeks. Why did you have to fall for your best friend?

Jack stomped down the stairs, confusion & frustration written all over his face as he threw himself onto the couch.

“What the hell did I even do?” He screamed into one of the cushions. Quinn & Luke exchange a look before ultimately deciding to tell him bits of the truth.

“You went on that date” Luke said quietly, praying that Jack has heard him the first time so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. Fortunately for Luke, Jack lifted his head up as soon as the words left his mouth.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jack was more confused than before. He didn’t understand what was going on.

“How is it that we all see it except for you, dude? She’s in love with you. She’s been in love with you for years now, and you’ve never once noticed or acknowledged her feelings. It’s evident to everyone in our lives except for you. You leaving on that date today made her feel like shit” Quinn spoke.

“Well, it made her feel more like shit than she already did before. You neglected her all morning because you were on your phone and then when we all agreed to go on the boat, you bailed on us and she felt more forgotten than ever before” Luke added onto Quinn’s speech.

Jack sat there in shock. There’s no way that you, his best friend of 16 years, were in love with him. He couldn’t fathom the thought, but slowly the realization sank in and now he felt horrible for his behavior. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He never knew.

He didn’t say anything before he raced up the stairs and knocked on your door but received no response.

“Y/n please let me in. I want to talk to you. Please hear me out” Jack pleaded as he rested his ear against the door, listening closely in hopes of hearing movement on the other side.

Silence. All that could be heard was the sound of the fan circulating air throughout the room.

Quinn & Luke had followed him up the stairs and watched as Jack slowly fell to his knees infront of your door. They’d never seen him like this before.

“J, she needs some space right now. Let her get some rest and talk to her in the morning. It’s the least she deserves” Luke suggested as he placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

— the next morning —

You woke up to a massive migraine, probably from all the crying you did last night. You felt uneasy as you stood from your bed and made your way to the connected bathroom.

You knew you’d have to see him again. You couldn’t avoid him, hell it was his house.

You braced yourself for the day as you washed your face and changed into something more comfortable before heading downstairs for breakfast.

You overheard a conversation taking place as you silently made your way down the stairs, in hopes of not alerting anyone of your presence quite yet.

Just as you turned the corner and entered the kitchen, silence filled the room. You chose to not acknowledge it, just as Jack had not acknowledged your feelings for him.

You felt multiple pairs of eyes on you as you grabbed yourself a bowl to pour some cereal. You slowly carried your bowl to the dining room, where everyone was seated.

It was only then that you had noticed the extra eyes staring at you. Seated at the table included Quinn, Luke, Jack, Trevor, Cole & Nico. The latter 3 must’ve flown in early in the morning because they weren’t here last night when everything happened.

You softly wave at the 3 boys before placing your bowl on the table.

“Morning” you quietly said as you sat on the bench between Quinn & Luke, which was ironically as far away from Jack as possible.

Small talk is made and you barely speak unless you’re spoken to. You quietly converse with everyone except for the middle Hughes brother. He hasn’t said a single thing to you this morning except for stare at you occasionally when he thought you didn’t notice. Of course you did, you always noticed.

Breakfast finished & you kindly collected everyone’s dishes and headed towards the kitchen to clean them.

You stood infront of the sink on your own for about 5 minutes when you felt a presence behind you.

“Can we talk?” You knew that notice all too well. You placed the plate in the sink as you turned around slowly, resting the plane of your hands on the edge of the counter.

You took in his appearance for the first time since he left for his date yesterday afternoon. His eyes were swollen, much like yours, and his hands were fidgeting at the back of his neck.

“Sure” You simply spoke, not wanting to be the one to bring up the elephant in the room. Jack cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Could we maybe go outside? I’ll get Luke to do the dishes or something so we can talk in private” He suggested as you nodded your head.

Jack led the way to the backyard before holding the door open with a simple “After you”.

You sat on the couch next to the fire pit, leaving Jack to sit next to you.

You sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the calming breeze the morning had brought. That peace was interrupted when Jack cleared his throat and turned to face you.

“I want to start with an apology. I genuinely had no idea that you even felt neglected yesterday. I was a shit friend and I shouldn’t have ditched you for someone else. I know I messed up. And I’m sorry that it’s taken me til now to realize how you feel towards me. All this time I thought it was just you being friendly, I never knew you liked me. I was so confused by what you meant yesterday that the realization didn’t click until Luke & Quinn said it. I couldn’t believe the fact that I had been the one to hurt you and I will forever be sorry for that”

Jack looked into your eyes, and he swears he could see your heart shatter into a million pieces at every word. God, how he wishes he wasn’t the reason behind it.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were 6, Jack. I’ve spent years pining after you, only to watch you pine after every other girl on this planet. This summer was different though. You paid no mind to other girls and you treated me like I was yours, and I stupidly believed that things would change between us. That was until yesterday. You act all lovey with me one second and then suddenly I’m nonexistent the next” You watched the frown grow on his face as you spoke.

“I’ve never been in a relationship because I’ve been holding out hope for you, Jack. Hope for you to finally come to your senses and see that I’ve been here waiting for you this whole time, stupidly thinking that my chance will come” Jack stayed quiet as you let it all out.

“I’m in love with you, Jack. I have been for the longest time and I really shouldn’t be” You cried into the hands as he stared at you in silence.

“Y/n/n…” Jack was at a loss for words. He didn’t know you felt that strongly about him, or that you watched everything unfold from the sidelines of his life.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/n/n”

“It’s okay, Jack. I’ll be fine, I’ll get over it. I just don’t know if I handle anymore heartbreak” You sobbed as Jack brought you into his embrace, holding you in his arms.

Despite you feeling this hurricane of emotions, his arms still felt like home to you. He felt like home.

“I hope I’m not too late” He whispered softly, causing you to remove yourself from is hold, a look of confusion spread across your face.

“Huh?” You sniffled as you wiped your nose.

“I’ve been in love with you from the moment I met you. Not even, the second I saw you holding that little bear of yours as you walked into your new house, I knew you were someone special. Someone who would be the only consistent person in my life besides my family. I always thought you saw me as a friend and never anything more, hence all the failed relationships. I’ve tried to get over you so much since I thought you’d never return the feeling. I looked for you in other girls, but none of them were you, so they never lasted. You have been the only person I have truly wanted since we were 6, Y/n/n. I now know that you’ve felt the same this entire time, and I have somehow misread everything for 16 years. The timing of this is horrible and I’m afraid I may be too late, but please know I do love you, Y/n/n. I always have & I always will” Jack confessed as he held your hand in his.

You searched his eyes for some sign of this being a sick and twisted joke, a prank that would forever haunt you and ultimately be the end of your friendship with the boy.

But you found none of that. You found love & hope & sadness. He hoped that the love he had for you was enough to fill the hole of sadness that he had accidentally burned into your heart. He hoped that you would forgive him and give him a chance to redeem himself.

A shy smile appeared on your face before you removed your hands from his to wipe the tears on your face, and the tears that were slowly trickling down his.

“I love you too, J. You’ll always have a chance” A goofy smile took over your face as the boy brought you into a tight hug, holding you there for what felt like an eternity.

After who know how long, he finally pulled away and let you breathe.

“I’m so happy right now that I could kiss you, but I won’t solely because we just made up and I’m not trying to ruin my chances & lose you again”

“Oh shut up” You placed both hands on the sides of his face & pulled him for a kiss.

The world felt like it had stopped but like it was also spinning simultaneously. The butterflies you got in your stomach when his lips touched yours felt heavenly.

Jack, who was a little taken aback by the kiss, immediately kissed you back once he realized what was happening. One of his hands found its way to your face and the other at your hip.

You wish you could live in this moment forever, and you genuinely believed you could, that is until you heard cheering coming from behind you. You both pulled apart to see Quinn, Luke, Cole, Trevor & Nico all cheering from the patio.

“THEY FINALLY DID IT!!!” Trevor shouted as he jumped up and down.

“Hurt her again, Hughes & you’re gonna regret it” Nico said before making his way back inside the house. You looked back to Jack to see him gently caressing the back of your hand.

“Wouldn’t even think about it” he smiled as he pressed a kiss to your temples, holding you closer than ever before.

[juanarc-thethird]

Animal control with jaune and Blake

I don't know if what I wrote below was what you expected, but what's done is done. ------------

Animal Control

Jaune and Blake drive in their van to their first client.

Jaune: *Driving* So, what kind of job do we have today?

Blake: We have to appease a crocodile.

Jaune: Is it a "catch and release" type of job?

Blake: No, they just need us to relax her.

Jaune: Oh, I see, it's their pet.

Blake: *Quietly* I wouldn't say that.

Jaune: What's her name? The crocodile, I mean.

Blake: Tock

Jaune: Ok, first time I've heard a name like that.

Blake: Make a left here and the house will be on the right.

Jaune: Thanks

Jaune follows Blake's directions and they stop in front of the house.

Jaune: Here we are. I'll go take some tranquilizer darts.

Blake: It won't be necessary.

Jaune: Really? Is a crocodile.

Blake: Trust me, you won't need it.

Jaune: If you say so

They get out of the van, walk to the door and ring the doorbell.

Jaune: After these, do you want to stop and eat at the taqueria I told you about yesterday?

Blake: Sure, if we have time.

Jaune: Great.

Suddenly the door of the house opens. In front of them 5 very scared people appear and start talking at the same time.

Jaune: Wow! Quiet! Don't worry… As you can see, we are animal control and we are already informed of what is happening. You.. *he points to one of the people* ..where is the crocodile?

Stranger 1: T-That way.

He says as he points to a door at the end of the hallway.

Stranger 1: She's in there. Please be very careful.

Jaune: *Smiles* Don't worry, we are professionals.

He says with great confidence.

Stranger 2: If you survive, we will follow you to the depths of hell.

Jaune: (Holy cow, what kind of crocodile do they have?!) T-That's not necessary.

Blake: Jaune, lets go.

Jaune: R-Right.

The two pass between the people towards their objective. The more they do it, the more they hear the chaos happening inside the room.

Jaune: So, how do you plan to appease her?

Blake: By using you.

Jaune: *Surprise* I'm sorry!

Blake grabs the door handle and opens it without any worry.

Jaune: Wait!

When they open the door completely, they find a very upset woman.

Tock: How the hell did I lose that money?!! That bet was supposedly a sure winner!!! *She grabs a chair and throws it against the wall* AAAAH!!!!

Jaune: Blake...

Blake: Hm?

Jaune: That's not a crocodile

Blake: Wrong, she is.

Jaune: She is a person!

Blake: Correction, She is a Crocodile Faunus person.

Jaune: That doesn't matter, you told me that we would work with animals!

Blake: She is an animal.

Jaune: *Gasp!* Now that's racist.

Blake: Ok I lied! Actually this companionship business for women.

Jaune: And I'm the product?

Blake: Y-Yes... *Ashamed, she lowers her head*

Jaune: *Sighs* Look Blake, if you need money, I can help you.

Blake: *Happy* So you'll work for me?!

Jaune: Hell no! I leav-!

Tock: *Grabs his shirt* You finally arrived handsome.

Jaune: *Worry* Hey wait a minute! I was just leav-!

Tock: Enough of the talk, let's fuck!

She pushes Jaune into the room and locks the door. Blake puts her ear to the door and listens.

Jaune: Wait this is all a misunderstanding! If you let me explain-!

Suddenly the sound of clothes falling is heard.

Jaune: O-Oh God~

Tock: You like what you see, big guy~💕 This is all yours for the next hour~

Jaune: I-I don't think it's a good idea-

Tock: If you're worried about my teeth, don't be. I don't bite…hard~

Jaune: Is not that, the thing is...

Then the sound of a zipper is heard.

Jaune: H-Hey!

Tock: Holy fuck~💕 They told me you were big, but I didn't expect such a massive cock~ God, I need it inside me~💕

Jaune: H-Hang on a minute! I don't think she will fit! Hey! WAIT!

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room.

Tock: MoThErfuCkEr!!💕

Jaune: *Worry* Are you ok?!

Tock: I'm fine! Just… fuck~💕… I think I just came. Shit, you sure have a nice cock~ I will definitely book you again. Now let's test your stamina~💕

Jaune: Mu stami-*Gets kissed*-MHH!!💕

Tock: Shut up now, will you, just fuck me~💕 *Kiss* *Kiss* *Kiss*

Blake: (Looks like my plan was a success)

Blake walks away from the door and starts typing on her phone.

Blake(text): I have a space open this Saturday, is that okay?

*Ting!*

White_Queen: I take it. It would be at my beach house. I'll send you the address later, along with the deposit.

Blake smiles at the text

Blake: (Oh Jaune~ You don't know how valuable you are.)

[kinda-cute-kinda-insane]

BNHA with Idol!reader

How did they got caught having an idol as their s/o?

Characters : Tenya Iida, Jirou kyoka, Denki Kaminari, Shota Aizawa, Shoto Todoroki.

Reader gender is never mentioned, reader is a stereotypical cutesy idol, Aizawa’s reader is in their 20’s (while with the student they are the same age), no content warning I just want something adorable the manga’s been stressing me out lmao. Sorry if I get the first name and last name of the characters mixed up, I’m kind of stupid.

Uraraka have been finding it weird how her friend have been playing some idol group videos lately. She never thought that her stiff class president will be the type to listen to these kind of music. Look she’s not one to judge here she just finds it kind of odd.

She would have expected Iida to listen some kind of classical music, you know like any other rich kids.

So today she will no longer die of her own curiosity “Hey Iida, I want to ask you something serious,” she said. Emphasizing the word serious.

The said man immediately put his attention on her “what is it Uraraka-kun?” He answered. “Not to sound judgmental or anything,” she clarified before continuing. “I’m curious, why have you been watching (group name) nonstop?” She asked. Iida grew tense at the question (if that’s even possible considering how stiff he usually is)

“Oh yeah, I thought I was the only one who noticed that,” Their green haired friend added. While the dual colored hair boy just nodded his head, still chewing his food.

“Well I believe it is wrong to lie to our friends, but I hope you all can keep this a secret,” He said. They all gave him a nod.

He then explained how that one time his pro-hero older brother Ingenium have saved you back then from a creepy stalker. Tensei being the older brother he is tried to get you and Tenya to be together once he noticed that you both were the same age.

He can’t help it, you are such a nice person and he thinks his younger brother really needs to have some high-school romance in his life. Surprisingly you agreed.

You both went to dates (secretly) and you can’t help but find Tenya personality to be so charming, and he could say the same too.

“Although this relationship might seem not professional for the both of us considering their job as an idol and me as a hero in training,” he pushed up his glasses. “I hope you guys can keep our relationship a secret until we both decide to go public our self thank you.” He smiled at his friends.

‘Well that was even more unexpected’ Uraraka thought, but after realizing she began to squeal at how cute you both are. Midoriya is asking a lot of questions, while Tenya tried to tell the both of them to lower their voice down.

While Todoroki is just, well, eating. What a cool guy.

Mina was just minding her own business walking to the dorms living room, only to find a phone unattended on that table. Obviously being the kind friend she is she took the phone to give it back to whoever own the phone.

She turn on the phone to find some band she didn’t recognize, but she saw this on Jirou dorm room before. So this must be hers!

She turn around the phone to see the phone case, just in case if her guess is wrong. To her surprise she see a clear case. But that’s not what took her by surprise, it’s the photo card of (your idol name) sitting back there.

How come she never noticed this? Well this will be some good teasing material to her purple haired friend later.

“Oh hey Mina.” There it is the star of the show. “Have you seen my phone?” She asked. The pink haired girl smiled teasingly.

‘I don’t feel so good about this’ Jirou internally panicked. “Yeah I do,” Mina walked closer. “But, you have to answer my question first” she said.

“Okay, sure,” the purple haired girl answered. Thinking it was probably just a question about who her crush is. If so she can just easily shrugged it off, like always.

“Why do you have (your idol name) on your phone case,” Mina wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. Jirou not expecting the question grew flustered.

Shit, how could she forget about that. She just wanted to put your picture on her phone case as a sign of support on your music career (and also so she can easily stare at your photo when she missed you) she didn’t expect one of her friend to saw it. Even worse that Mina is the one who caught her, oh she’ll be living a hell of a teasing from the pink skinned girl.

“Come on answer me~” she said teasingly. “No reason!” Jirou tried to deny, looking away from her friend.

“Who would’ve thought our dark and mysterious girl Kyoka Jirou is actually a softie who enjoys cutesy music,” Mina poke her friend arms teasingly.

“It’s not like that!”

“Mhm, I trust you girl”

They both went back and fourth with the teasing and denying. Mina flipped the phone to show the lock screen to tease how different her friend true music taste is.

But a notification came up instead, catching both of the girls attention.

‘Y/n 💖 : are you still free for the date next week babe?’ It reads.

They both freezed immediately. “WHAT.” Mina screamed. Jirou tried to shut her friend by putting her hands on her mouth “quiet down!”

“Holy shit you gotta spill the tea to me girl,” Mina said her eyes still glued on the notification.

Jirou surrendered and tell her the stories how you both met because of her parents connection to your group agencies.

Mina agreed to keep her mouth shut, by the price of a signed photo card of you. Can’t really blame her, she’s just a girl.

Kaminari is the kind of person to say some stupid shit on the daily just for shit and giggles.

So when he claimed out loud to his friend group that (your idol name) and him is in a relationship nobody took him seriously. No one, even his best bro Sero. What a betrayal.

But even then he never stop proudly claiming his tittle as your boyfriend. Though it’s kind of strange how he only ever say those things to his closest friend group not the whole class like always.

It’s like he doesn’t want everyone but his close friends to know…

Anyway-

He managed to get himself injured during his internship and you’re worried, ever since the attack on the USJ your worry on your boyfriend has grown increasingly.

But luckily today, your manager actually let you visit him due to your free schedule today. She only tell you to be careful of the paparazzi which you successfully managed to run away from.

“Geez how long did the doctors said you will be here for?” You asked, while feeding him the warm food. “Eh, I dunno,” he shrugged. “I forgot.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Seriously you have to be more careful, you got me worried sick.” You sighed. “Sorry, it’s just how the hero work is y’know?”

“Still, I want you to be more careful next time,” you huffed. “Aw, I’m sorry baby.” He apologized, looking at your cute pouting face.

“Come here give me a hug,” you only stared at him. “Please?” You gave in and stood up to give him a hug.

He enjoyed the warmth of the hug only to be interrupted.

“Holy shit,” both Mina and Sero gasped. While Bakugo just stood there with a scowl on his face at the display of affection(boo what a hater)

“Oh, you guys must be Kaminari’s friends right?” You slowly let go of the hug and gave them a smile. “I think Kaminari have told you guys about our relationship, even though I told him not to.” You looked at him saying the last part. “But, thanks for keeping it a secret you guys” you said giving them all a warm smile.

“Holy shit you were not lying at all,” Sero looked at the both of you in shock.

“Bro?!”

Hizashi has been making fun of his friend Shouta. Because of the merch of (your idol name) scattered around his apartment.

But the dark haired man always claims that those merch was all Eri’s idea. The little girl always say yes about it with a little giggles coming from her.

So today he decided to drag Nemuri to also make fun of Shouta comically out of place idol merch. Compared to his dark interior (besides Eri’s room) it’s just so funny to see (your idol name) poster just hanging there in his living room.

They both stand in front of the door trying to hold their laugh as they hear a song from (idol group) blasting inside of the apartment. A faint sounds of Eri singing along the lyrics.

Hizashi opened the door, that is surprisingly unlocked. They find the living room empty so they both walked into the kitchen to find Eri being carried by-

(Your idol name)!?

You stood there in your casual clothes while holding Eri in your arms as you both waited for the apple pie to bake. “Hi guys!” Eri greeted the two adults standing.

They both stood there with shock in their face to find a celebrity stand inside the home of their friend. Hizashi then let out the loudest scream you’ve ever heard in your life. Your face grimaced at the loud voice ringing in your ears.

“What happened?” Shota ran into the kitchen panicking. Only to find two of his friends standing there “What the hell, what are you two doing here?” He asked. No response from the two of them. The blonde still shocked while the dark haired woman smirked teasingly.

“How the hell did you two even get inside?” He asked in annoyance. “Sorry babe, I forgot to lock the door earlier”

“BABE!?” Hizashi screamed again. “Holy shit this is so entertaining,” Nemuri laughed then reached for her phone, wanting to ask for a picture with you.

“Both of you leave, now” Shouta said, annoyed now that his calm and quiet weekend (with his beloved and daughter) is ruined.

Fuyumi has noticed how her youngest brother have been smiling a lot lately. Especially while on his phone. Truly she is happy to see how cheerful her youngest brother lately but she can’t help it to be so curious on why or what have been making him so happy.

Not to mention few weeks ago he asked her “What flowers do people usually buy for their partner?” Now that got her really curious.

Now she decided to follow her brother on the weekends to see who this mysterious person really is. “Is this really a good idea?” -While also dragging Natsuo into this mess.

“Well I’m just curious on who have been making my younger brother so happy lately,” she said. Natsuo rolled his eyes at the ridiculous excuse from his sister.

But he is also curious. Always being away due to college, he never saw a lot of things happen in the house these days. So to think of his younger brother who usually have a blank reaction suddenly all lovey dovey is kind of funny. And kind of terrifying.

“Maybe he’s just like those other teenage boys who like idols,” He said watching his younger brother walk into a venue where a new group was performing.

“But he bought flowers see?” Fuyumi denied pointing at the flowers her younger brother is carrying. “Fans give idols gifts all the time,” He replied.

“How did you know?”

“Anyway, this is ridiculous just let him watch his concert in peace.” He sighed. “No we must go inside, maybe he’s waiting for them inside.” She dragged her brother to the front gate.

Paying for the on the spot tickets that are quite worth the money. Such dedication thrown to know who this mysterious person is.

“This is ridiculous,” Natsuo said holding the light stick in his hands. Fuyumi only focused on her youngest brother smiling as he watched the group perform on stage.

This went for an hour until eventually the concert is now over. “See?” Natsuo pointed out. “But wait, he’s not leaving yet,” Fuyumi said suspiciously looking at Shoto. “Look!” She pointed at her youngest brother walking away to the backstage.

They both watch from afar as the venue is now empty, only the staff were present. And Shoto, too.

Fuyumi grip on Natsuo shoulders tightened as she see you walking out to greet Shoto. Which he replied with a bright smile.

Shoto then gave you the bouquet of flowers. You gave him a hug and a small peck on the lips before leading him to the backstage to hang out.

The other member greeted him watching you lead him to your changing room. You both enjoyed the food Shoto had ordered for delivery having your own little date.

“Holy fuck.” Natsuo breathed out. “Language! But yes indeed.” Fuyumi scolded then agreed to her younger brother.

Since then Fuyumi started listening to (idol group) music and watching interviews with you in it. And she’s glad to see how kind you are, and she believes you to be as kind and fun as you are in real life. I mean how can you jot charm her younger brother then?

While Natsuo let’s just say he’s been laughing at how ridiculous and funny the situation is. Maybe he’s also kind of envious that his younger brother is already in a relationship before him. Not to mention with an idol too.

[calicoheartz]

Paige Bueckers : headcannons ഒ ¸ ⊹

warning : none ! pure fluff :)

a/n : hey guys! welcome to my first real post! today I decided to write some super niche headcannons about PB ◡̈ enjoy !

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

⸝⸝ ♡ despite her tough exterior , Paige secretly adores handwritten letters and often leaves little notes for her s/o to find throughout the day! almost always expressing her love and appreciation for them in little or subtle ways

⸝⸝ ♡ Definitely has a soft spot for rainy days. Whenever it storms , she loves the idea of cozying up with you under a blanket , sipping hot cocoa or tea while expressing her dreams , fears , and deepest thoughts with you !

⸝⸝ ♡ Paige FOR SURE has a secret playlist filled with songs that remind her of you, and whenever you guys are apart, they listen to it to feel closer to you. Maybe even leaving voice memos of her expressing her love for you between the tracks

⸝⸝ ♡ She is incredibly attentive to her partners needs and ALWAYS knows how to make them feel special, whether it’s through a surprise gift, a comforting embrace, or just by simply being there to support them through difficult times

⸝⸝ ♡ I feel like Paige would believe in grand romantic gestures and she isn’t afraid to go above and beyond to sweet her partner off their feet. Whether it is a surprise weekend getaway, a heartfelt love letter , or a spontaneous dance in the moonlight. Her love has no bounds, and she’s always striving to make her partner feel cherished and adored

⸝⸝ ♡ our girl is definitely a hopeless romantic

⸝⸝ ♡ yall definitely have a secret handshake that yall share whenever either of you need a pick-me-up or a reminder of your special bond :) it’s a playful gesture that symbolizes your unique connection !

⸝⸝ ♡ I also feel like she’s a sucker for rom-coms, especially the ones from the 90s. Her all time favorite is DEFINITELY “you’ve got mail” go argue with a wall 😊

⸝⸝ ♡ I hc her love language to be a mix of physical touch and acts of service. I feel like while she loves having you near her and is almost always craving your touch; she also loves going out of her way to do thoughtful things for you. Whether it’s cooking your favorite meal, or getting you something you’ve wanted for awhile, best believe your girl is always thinking of you!

⸝⸝ ♡ (going off the previous headcannon) I feel like she’s the type to want to hold your hand literally anywhere and everywhere! I think she’d intertwine your pinkies in public, or maybe caress your hand while walking together in public! She loves making it obvious that she’s yours ◡̈

anywhooo that is it for today! lmk if you guys would like a pt 2 or possibly a nsfw version of this? thank u for reading !

[fierymiasma]

⨯ A Little Game // Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis - Silver Trio ⨯ Part 2

Summary: Ominis and Sebastian start the game of wooing the hero of Hogwarts. It's too bad that she's too dim to see it.

Words: 2.1k

|| Masterlist || AO3 || Upcoming ||

Part 1 Here

She still couldn't believe how much Sebastian and Ominis had changed over the summer…the flirty personalities, the growth spurts, their sudden, stunning attractiveness.  No one but her seemed perturbed by the newfound oddness of her the two Slytherin boys.  Natty had scoffed at her concerns ("That's just what puberty does to boys").  But the hero of Hogwarts knew better.  There was only one possible explanation…

…Sebastian and Ominis were both cursed by some type of evil ancient magic spell.

Nibbling on her quill, the hero of Hogwarts pretended to be listening along to Professor Binns's dull droning.  Back ramrod straight, her glazed eyes stared ahead at the blackboard.  Her thoughts whirled a mile a minute.  Something nefarious was happening to her two best friends.  Maybe it was Polyjuice potion, or some type of imperio, cursed objects…or a magic so ancient and evil it had not yet even been named.  Yes, something strange indeed was happening to her boys.  And she was going to get down to the bottom of the mystery if it was the very last thi-

"You've been quiet all morning." A silky smooth voice practically whispered in her ear.

It was foolish to even attempt to think rationally around someone as effortlessly attractive as Ominis.  The hero of Hogwarts stared straight ahead at the indecipherable blackboard, ignoring her urge to look at Ominis.  She hadn't been prepared for the intensity of the boy's appearance at King's Cross.  She wasn't going to make that mistake twice.  

Her mouth felt so dry. It was still a struggle to come to terms with how unfairly gorgeous he became.  "Ominis, I'm trying to pay attention to the lecture.  Don't distract me."

The corner of his lips tugged upwards.  Bitingly sarcastic, he replied, "Ah, yes, the lecture…and tell me…what are we learning about today?"

"Um…"  Her tongue darted out licking her dry lips.  “We’re learning…um…history?”

"’Learning history?”  His voice dripped with amusement.  "In our History of Magic Class?"

The back of her neck tingled with embarrassment.  Her heart ached, begging to sneak a peek at Ominis's amused expression. 

Perhaps sensing her unease, Ominis lightened up on the teasing.  He leaned closer, concerned.  Their clothed elbows briefly brushed against each other.  Blood traveled to her cheeks.  Was that a careless mistake or an intentional act to rile her up?

Ominis's voice was so gentle.  "Is everything all right?"

 'Was everything all right?'  What type of question was that?  Her two best friends have all of a sudden gotten possessed by…some type of magical…well by something!  And Ominis was just sitting here nonchalantly, completely not bothered.  She folded her arms, "Why wouldn't everything be all right?  You think something is wrong with me?" 

She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at his expression.  Immediately, she regretted it.  His face was so soft.  A brow furrowed in gentle concern.  "Sebastian and I are just worried, is all.  You haven't been acting yourself lately.  Sebastian told me that you weren't at breakfast today-"

Her heart lept into her throat. So the two of them noticed that she was avoiding them.

"-You must be famished.  Lucky for you, I saved you your favorite: apple tarts."

With a minuscule flick of his wrist, Ominis summoned the pastries out of his bag.  They floated smoothly in front of her, gracefully avoiding Professor Binns’s notice.

She blinked.  She…had never told anyone that her favorite pastries were apple tarts.  How did Ominis find out?  "O-Ominis you shouldn't have.  Really, this is too much."

Ominis snorted, "It was hardly anything.  It's not like I made it myself."

Before she could politely refuse the thoughtful gesture, her stomach grumbled loudly.  It was so loud and embarrassing, cutting through the dull droning of Professor Binns lecture.  Several heads turned towards her.  Her classmates hid their snickers behind their hands. 

Blushing furiously, the hero of Hogwarts tried to shovel the food into her mouth as fast as possible, forgoing any need to breathe.

Ominis chuckled.  It was a well-known fact that the hero of Hogwarts was one of the messiest eaters in the whole school.  Even without vision, he knew that she had made a mess. 

His voice was light and teasing.  "I believe you got something on your face."  With his thumb, Ominis wiped away the apple syrup that he knew was hanging on the corner of her mouth.  His tongue licked the pad of his thumb, chasing the remnants of tarty sweetness.  Unable to look away from him, she unapologetically stared at him quite openly.  Her eyes traced his movements, watching how his mouth would suck on his elegant fingers.  She shivered.  What else could Ominis do with his mouth?

"It tastes just as good as I thought it would."  Ominis commented. 

Oh bloody hell.  Did Ominis happen to spend his summer in France with callgirls or was he always so indecent?  The only thing that he could do that would be more scandalous would be if they fucked on the table right now.

No…N-no…don’t think about that sort of thing.

Stiffly, she turned her attention back to the humdrum crooning of Professor Binns.  The pair of them sat together, both of them aching for something beyond the confines of the dull classroom. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Minutes, hours, and days have gone back since "the apple tart incident.  Time made it all too easy for her guard to be slowly crumble around her.  Whatever, it was that happened in the "History of Magic" had clearly been some collective visual hallucination that they all shared in that they shall never, ever speak about.  Sure, Sebastian and Ominis were still acting quite strange.  The accidental touches, the gazes full of knowing and intent…

…But beyond those, nothing so scandalous as the incident.  So, she could hardly be blamed for being ill-prepared for things to come. It was supposed to be a normal potions class, how bad could it possibly be?

"Class, today we'll be studying the effects of Amortentia."

Oh, bollocks. 

She could practically feel the overwhelming weight of Sebastian's gaze on the back of her head.  She refused to look back at the potions station where the Slytherins were at.

Fuck.  This…this could be bad.

Not for the first time, the hero of Hogwarts was glad that Garreth was her potions partner.  It was easier to have a very private melt down when the Gryffindor boy was exploding a potion next to her.

As Professor Sharp explained the nuances of potion-making, she whispered to the boy standing next to her.  "Garreth, you and me, pal, for old time's sake?”

He grimaced before whispering back.  “Sorry, Natty just asked before class, and I already said yes.  Apparently she’s super behind and needs some help.  Some other time, yeah?”

Her head whipped around the room looking for Natty.  Sure enough, her backstabbing friend had a shit eating grin.  Standing in the Professor's blind side, Natty gave her a secretive thumbs up.  Her jaw dropped.  Unbelievable.  Even her closest friends were conspiring against her.  The savior of Hogwarts responded in a very mature, very adult way by flipping Natty the bird.

As Sharp's instructions ended, the rest of her classmates started splitting up into their usual pairs.  Her head whipped back and forth as she started to truly panic.  Her poor little heart could not handle the emotional turmoil of brewing Amortentia under the piercing gaze of her "friends".  Under absolutely no circumstances, could she be paired up with either Sebastian or Ominis.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

….Well, lucky for her, she was not paired up with either Sebastian or Ominis.

Unfortunately, she was put into a three person group with BOTH Sebastian and Ominis. 

It was very strange that there was an odd number of students today.  It wasn't typical for Poppy to get sick out of the blue.

Listlessly stirring the nearly completed potion, she continued to ignore the two Slytherin boys.  She had done a fantastic job of ignoring them for the past two hours, and she planned on continuing her silence until the class was over. She wasn’t sure what Amortentia was supposed to smell like.  No doubt it was impossible to even ask someone else.  But she wondered if its aroma was supposed to be so…confusingly complex. 

As its characteristic spirals evaporated into steam, she recognized the comforting pillows of the Undercroft, a familiar heady cologne, and the earthy fragrance of something very masculine. 

But, as she stirred the potion with her wand, its aroma changed into the scent of rich parchment from library books, explosive gunpowder, and a deep musk that definitely reminded of someone very familiar to her.

"What do you smell?"  Sebastian asked, his tone sickeningly innocent.

Her whole body went red.  She hadn’t even noticed the other boy sneaking up on her.  "Never you mind, Sebastian Sallow."  Sebastian's eyes were wide and bright, almost twinkling with mirth.  "It's not like I could even pick it out anyway." She haughtily mumbled under her breath.

Ominis was on the other side of her.  Again, did he suddenly lose all concept of personal space?  "Sebastian can't help be curious, that's all."

She jumped.  Her feet stumbled back clumsily, only to bump her back against Sebastian's hard torso.  Blushing, she quickly pivoted away from him.  When did his body become so firm?  What on earth was that boy eating?

She was being flanked on both sides.  Sebastian to her left, Ominis to her right, with no escape from the conversation. She couldn't help but gape.  Were they…teaming up on her?

No…they couldn't be…

Their sixth year had been a horrendous nightmare for their collective friendship.  It started all from Solomon's death, and the animosity continued to spiral out of control. Ominis and Sebastian constantly at each other's throats, fighting over the silliest things and stupidest of arguments.  As the meditator, she would always find herself squished in the middle, like a doll they were forced to share with each other.  Why, she could recall a few moments where Sebastian literally tugged on her arm to pull her away from Ominis's side.

"I don't understand. Last year you two were constantly fighting, always at each other's throats-"

"Oh we certainly were at each other's throats." Sebastian parroted, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Ominis flushed deeply, hand subconsciously rubbing the side of his neck.

She blinked stupidly.  It seems like over the summer they had come to an agreement though she wasn't sure what exactly it entailed. 

"Now, let's stop avoiding questions, shall we?  What do you smell?"  Sebastian asked again.

"T-That is very private, Sallow!"  She felt lightheaded.  "I-it's not like people go around telling each other Amortentia smells like!"

"Hmmm….she's hiding secrets, Ominis."

"She is indeed."  Ominis  towered over her, and the savior of Hogwarts was reminded, yet again, of how tall he had gotten.  Why, she would have to stand on her tippy toes in order to kiss him.

Her face bloomed into an even brighter shade of red.  Stop.  Don't think about kissing best friends, no matter how hot they have gotten.

"I happen to think that our dear friend might recognize Amorentia's scent."  Ominis drawled.

"Oh?"  Sebastian arched a pretty eyebrow.

"Yes, perhaps it smells like someone we know…someone she must keep secret from us." 

Sebastian hummed.  His pink tongue dipping out to lick his bottom lip.  "Or…maybe someones?"

Her stomach dropped.  Natty had once described to her how some lions in Africa would play with their gazelles before eating them.

This is what they must feel like.

She puffed out her chest and put on a brave face.  Two could play at this game.  "Well, why don't you two tell me what you guys smell, if you both care so much.  It's not fair for me to share without you saying anything."

She expected them to falter, and stammer over their false bravado.  No doubt, they would lighten up on their teasing and the three of them could go on their merry way and pretend this incident had never happened. 

But it seemed as if she only walked into a trap.

An irrepressible smile was on Sebastian's face.  “I can smell the Undercroft, our Slytherin dorm room, and expensive cologne."

The description….matched very closely to the aroma that she smelled, with some minor differences.  It was impossible to hide her blush.  Sebastian's eyes dipped down, unabashedly staring at her lips.  "And I can smell something else that's soft and sweet."  She couldn’t help but duck the lower half of her face between her scarf, trying to shield herself from Sebastian’s predatory gaze.

Sebastian’s eyes flitted to Ominis, “‘Nis, what does the potion smell like to you?”

“Leather bound books, something smokey that reminds me of Bombarda-"

She tried not to look in Sebastian’s direction.  That was Sebastian's favorite spell.

“…and honeysuckle perfume and apple tarts.”

Her stomach flipped over, and an uncontrollable flush of heat melted into her entire body.  She was trapped under the intense attention of the two boys in front of her.  Oh dear Merlin.  

She did what any rational and logical person would do in her shoes.

"Um…Professor Sharp, I…I think I"m getting sick.  I'm going to the Hospital Wing."  Before the Professor could even respond, she fled from the scene.  Her poor heart was about to explode.

[honestsycrets]

brujería i: inhuman | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ pairing | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ type | doubleshot, explicit

❛ summary | since taking over his bio-father's company, miguel just can't seem to sleep. there may be someone behind that though. or, a succubus wants miguel.

❛ tags | some sacrilege, succubus!reader, ceo!miguel, sex-dreams, sleepy sex, dub!con: miguel is asleep during many encounters, exhibitionism outside of a church, f!reader, some mention of blood and wounds, au with deviations from canon, slight hurt miguel, slight caretaking peter, excessive bodily fluids, some mindgames.

❛ request fulfilled | Was wondering if i could request ceo!miguel x succubus! reader? whether he’s spider-man is completely up to you but reader is basically like a demon hiding in plain sight, toying and feeding on the sexual energy of people. maybe she’s a new hire and then she visits him in his dreams or smth. miguel becomes her target and he finds himself falling in love with her and wanting her so much it brings out an intense carnal desire inside him (1/2)

❛ sy's notes | i based some of miguel's sleep paralysis on my own experience. the catholic religious connotations are not very heavy, but if you're sensitive to that sort of thing, i'd probably skip this one.

Miguel O’Hara was never a superstitious man.

He grew up in a deeply Catholic home thick with superstition. His grandmother’s rosary still sat on his desk, enveloped in a spherical glass alongside stacks of organized paperwork on the latest drug his not-so-dearly held biological father left before he kicked it. Corruption was fiercely rooted, a fact that Miguel was not so subtle about. The papers he rifled through that morning revealed the stupidest account of Brujería among reports of Rapture.

“Brujería-- what bullshit,” he murmured as he dropped a stack of papers back onto the oak desk. He glanced at the glass tabletop and found his reflection therein. His eyes, crinkled at the edges, carried the reflection of countless days of his dark exhaustion. “Si no es una cosa es otra.”

“Miguel?”

“What, Lyla?” Miguel threw a glare at the ceiling at the AI that sang at him. She seemed far too happy with her position as the resident terror of his new office. New was an overstatement. It was his father’s before he croaked, reflected in some of his tacky taste in the things Miguel had immediately thrown out. Why else would it have a picturesque, but grandiose view of Nueva York but for a great view of the people he was destroying? The bright windows also did a bang-up job of burning his eyes

“The psychiatrist is here,” she chirped. “Are you going to tell her about your wet dreams?”

The flutters that danced over his skin at night at the strike of three. Foreign warmth caressed his skin like a warm blanket over his skin. His heart rate raced, and pleasure burrowed under his skin. It never failed that Miguel would wake to a rush of pleasure, cum painting his sheets sticky, his heart soaring into his throat. With such pleasure, why would he tell anyone but Lyla about his pathetic, ruined state that came night after night?

Miguel waved his hand in dismissal. He instead checked the chunky watch on his wrist. You're just on time. He appreciates a punctual professional given how much work he had to complete. In lieu of the report of spiritual abuse, he picks up the pile of sexual misconduct. That was a more pressing matter to address. The actual victims were far more important than some bruto’s complaint of ojos based on a huevo in some water. He should send these idiots to any middle schooler’s chemistry class. The bruja who was coming to visit him today could hardly be a source of concern.

“Why would I do that? Let her in. You listen in and I’ll unplug you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lyla teased, but he knew she was right. Lyla was one of his only friends and by far the one he spent the most time with. She has patience for him. He slips his reading glasses out of their holster as the lock on his office door hisses apart, welcoming in the strange woman whose name he could never find but in Stone’s personal records. A chroí, my love, like Stone could love anyone else but himself.

“Dr. O’Hara.”

Miguel slipped the lenses on. Not only was the woman before him, not the sort of hippy-dippy woman he expected, but you were… familiar. Oh, so familiar. He’s never met you before. Yet, he finds himself inexplicably pulled to closing the gap between your bodies.

You extend your hand for him to take.

“Dr…” You finished his sentence by offering your name.

“Have I met you before?” His large hand clasped your own. A blanket of warmth blossomed from your small hand in his grip. Gentle at first, your very same small hands laced in his. The sudden realization of where he’d seen you hit him like a bullet through the head: unexpected and instantaneous. The image rippled across his mind, Miguel’s hand collared on your nape, his fat dick splitting your cunt against his office’s wide windows. Another pulse of heat soared through his hand--

Miguel jerked his hand back. What in the hell?

“¿Estás bien?” You were so close that he could smell the perfume on your skin. A dark cherry, sultry, and so good. He was swimming in the vague delusion that was your skin against his. There was something delicious about the way you looked at him, tracing the outline of his tie that sat tightly behind a constricting vest. He was hazy, clumsily falling back into his office chair. Moving was tiring with the sudden vial of desire that flooded through his veins. You were at his side in an instant.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s… the heat.”

“Oh! Stone's office is always hot. Here, I'll help you,” No-- he tried to argue. Against his wishes, you slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders and down his muscular arms, loitering a bit too long along his pumped biceps. “Though, I guess it’s all yours now, isn’t it? We all are.”

Miguel has no energy to fight you, lost in the haze that was last night’s forgotten dream. He’d never met you before, that much he was sure. Yet he swore, on all that was scientific and right, that he dreamed of your body on his, emptying him of any worries as he came into the nothingness of his sheets. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was a sea of rapture, and he drowned in it.

“According to your AI, you’re burning up lately.”

How do you know? You walked around his chair, your slender heels clicking over the hardwood floor. His eyes traced the curves of your velvet red pencil dress up to your bust as you leaned in, the back of your hand taking his temperature on his forehead. Your bust had delicate black lace detailing that enhanced your natural beauty. It scorched his ability to be a decent gentleman. Every man had their limits. He’s nearly at his, and you’ve only just arrived.

“You're so warm,” you gasped, but it's strained, a crack through stained glass. “Let me help you.”

You reached for the knot of his tie. That’s enough-- Miguel shoves your hand from his neck. He tugs the charcoal tie away from his throat, drawing it away from his white button-up. You wet your lips, drawing a sheen across your perfectly applied lipstick. You came in here with a plan and purpose to inflame him-- and did just that.

“Careful.”

A pause-- your eyes challenged him, seemed to know how weak he was in resisting the strain of lust that came with your mere presence. He was losing the fight quicker than he’d like. Miguel has to focus. “Your findings on Rapture’s… trial run. Where are they?”

“Destroyed,” you answered curtly.

"Project 2099?"

“Under seal. Oh, don’t look at me like that, hermoso. It wasn’t my choice.”

Hermoso. A flicker of anger shot through him as you reclined on his desk and ran your hands across the rim. You seem to notice the rosary on his desk, eyes lingering on it for more than a few seconds. You dipped so comfortably between propriety and looseness. The distance between your easily accessible skirt and his hardening erection is the entirety of only a few steps. “Stone’s orders, not mine.”

“There are no copies?”

“Why would there be? Stone was always very persistent with what he wanted.”

You? He doesn’t ask.

Something in him doesn’t want to think of it, what his father could have done to you that would make you so willing to stand so close to him. Your gaze faltered. You bore at his groin, his sleek dark slacks straining against his length.

“Now you want to know if I fucked him, que no?”

That's a yes. The way you slip onto his desk, legs slightly apart, tells him all he needs to know. His gaze falters, down then up again, an irrational amount of envy welling low in his belly. He found himself wondering what you’ve done in this very room. You bat your long lashes, far too pretty. He isn't easily dissuaded.

“I've barely met you and you want to know everything about my work and personal life. You’re so greedy. So like him.”

“I am nothing like that man.” At that very moment, his eyes locked with yours. A distant rage filled his belly. No one, he meant no one, compared him with that maniac. His tongue twisted in his mouth, ready to make some sharp remark, but you snatched his words by leaning forward, pressing your lips to his head. Your fingertips combed through his dark hair, a warm comfort. A kiss? His hands felt heavy, weighed down by an impossible weight, one he couldn’t push off no matter how much he strained.

"Hasta luego, Miguel.”

The door closes behind you with a clap. Back in the chair, Miguel was heaving heavy breaths. The restriction on his body loosened up and allowed Miguel to grab the black mirror stashed in a drawer below his desk. Your sticky lipstick left a stain on his forehead, strained with stress lines. He wiped away the red stain of your lipstick and rolled the remnants between his thumb and middle finger.

"Like Stone," he repeated with a hiss. "Mierda."

He wracked his hand around his swollen cock-- panting as he beat himself off, ecstasy claiming that he had to have you. The insatiable need to have -- his father’s whore-- overrode any of the papers on his desk. He came into the cold nothingness that is the air, his hands coated in his own essence. Miguel untucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped himself clean.

“Lyla? Who?” he gasped a breath, “Who is that woman?”

“Beats me,” Lyla thought she was so funny. “She’s not in any electronic records.”

“Really.”

Even if that was the case, Miguel would be damned if Stone got the better of him in death. Miguel cleaned up his hand and whirled open the sexual harassment folder-- he was nothing if not a determined man.

You shouldn’t be here. No, really, you should not be employed here.

He doesn’t know your qualifications because he cannot find them. In the electronic documents, your file is bare bones. The suggestion of your education is non-verifiable but signed off by Stone himself. If it were only him, he might chalk it up to corruption. But there were others-- other dead bodies-- who signed off on your highly amended report on Rapture. The board claimed your employment was not a subject for discussion. Even if he were the face of the company, you were untouchable.

He left his office to the small coffee shop on the third floor. The man who ran it, Peter, was a refreshment from the stress of the day in his own, weird little way. It was probably the high quantity of caffeine that kept him awake.

On the surface, Miguel’s dreams are unoffensive. Light things, like fingers brushing veins that creep along his muscles, soapy breasts dragging along his chest. Using your body like a sponge to clean him after a heavy session at the gym. You are always on your knees, suckling the cum free from his cock with an angelic little flutter of your lashes and those sultry, cat-like eyes. He was in a state of constant arousal with nothing to show for it but a consistently swollen dick. At his age, he considers it a feat.

“You’re so sexy, Peter.”

There it was again. Your giggle over top of the sound of the hiss of a coffee machine. Peter was laughing, shy, or uncomfortable, he couldn’t quite tell. Miguel slips off his wire sunglasses, looking along the bar for the source.

“Hey, Miguel!”

He paced around the corner, then back. There are a few work couples and colleagues speaking with one another. Their tables are fresh with coffee and tea, tiny wrapped sandwiches a poor lunch. You’re conspicuously absent. The lack of sleep was fucking with his head, it had to be. He settled the glasses into the lining of his suit pocket and withdrew his wallet.

“Miguel! You'll never guess who came by. Uh, the usual?” Peter bounced over, leaning over the cash register with a glitter in his eye. He was more upbeat than even usual. Some girl must have made his day, he decided. Sí, he rumbled. Miguel dipped his fingers into his wallet to pull out his card only to be stopped short of the action.

“Nope,” Peter pushed Miguel’s hand away. “Someone paid for you.”

“For me?” Miguel settled the card in its proper slot. “Who?”

“You know,” Peter whispers. "The bruja."

“She was here?” he repeated, following Peter across the side of the bar as he began to make his coffee. Peter is an airhead, a wonderful airhead. Some part of him is infectious on days when he’s not being stalked by a woman with no traceable name. It was as if you were wiped clean. “When?”

“About two hours ago? She said you looked spooked and left me some money for your coffee. I think she likes you.”

You were doing more than liking him.

“And why would you think that?” Miguel pulled out a chair at the bar, humoring the scrawnier man. Peter frothed some milk, a fluffy cloud of relaxation on top of his usual coffee dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg. Miguel takes the mug from Peter, wrinkling his nose at the addition of nutmeg.

“Well, she turned down some dude from marketing,” Peter mentions. “I've been here for a while and-- she rarely turns anyone down.”

You rarely turn anyone down?

It bothered him long after he finished the coffee. You’re so sexy, Peter. You weren’t there. Peter told him that you’d been gone for two hours. He should not have heard the wisps of your caramelized voice in the coffee shop.

It’s the exhaustion, Miguel convinced himself. He just needs the weekend, to rest.

By Saturday night, he hit his last nerve.

Restful sleep would not come. He lay in his large, empty king-sized bed after searching through files for another project that had no other name but 2099 for the entirety of ten long hours. Any information-- redacted-- but your name slapped over the top and bottom of countless documents was like a great, big fuck-you O'Hara. The more he read about you, the angrier he became. You enraged him, but he was positively enthralled with your presence.

He lay in bed listening to should-be soothing jazz that now grated his ear. Night after night, his torment never failed. When he finally found an instance of peace, his muscles locked up. Not quite awake, but not quite asleep. Heavy pressure overtook his chest and arms forced him to remain still. The world fazed in and out, doom on beating alarm bells in the back of his mind. Then he felt it, the phantom pressure on his neck that slid over his tawny skin, from his belly to the dark happy trail that dipped below his silky pants.

Miguel gritted his teeth and ripped himself from his trance. When his eyes popped apart, he was greeted by his shock. Hunger flowed through him in warm waves, piercing underneath his skin. Miguel’s fingers twinged, your phantom figure on top of him. It looked like you, but misty, as though an illusion. In the darkness, he can only make out the shadows that bounce off what little light is in the room.

“Motherfucker--”

Though he said that, your teasing fingers freed him from his cozy pants, ripping them around his hirsute thighs. His length lulls against his body, a shameful drool of cum gathered at his cock. A night of phantom touches has done him in. Miguel lurched back onto his flat pillows when he was abruptly shoved down by an outrageous amount of force. With his arms thrown up by his head-- he whimpered, frustrated with tonight's-- dream, delusion, dare he say-- reality. His joints were locked by invincible chains that forced him to stay in place. The more he fought, the hotter his need became for what came next. His body was pitifully trained.

He wasn’t certain that it was you-- but it smelled so deeply of your perfume, rich and cherry, flooding his nostrils. So familiar. He glanced down at the opaque figure, grinding over his hard cock. A pair of hands crashed onto his shoulder, claws curling into his broad shoulders. Blood seeped forth. A growl gathered in his chest, ripping up when something warm and tight sunk down on his bobbing dick. Miguel gritted his teeth: it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. Not for a lack of viable partners, but his annoyance with them all.

Despite his immense muscle, he was too weak to do anything about it. Even if he could, what would he do? Throw off the sex-crazed hallucination on his dick? You rolled your hips over him, suckling him right back up. Hypnotized by the smoky illusion, Miguel gazed on begrudgingly, grunting as you rolled over him, his dick straining your insides. He was a toy, nothing more and nothing less, used for his fat cock that split your airy body apart. His hips jerked, frustrated as he found he could go no deeper. You punished him by dragging your claws over his swarthy shoulders, over his collarbones. Blood ripped free, sliding down his deltoids.

“Chingado,” Miguel’s lips parted for the word, hips juddering up like a hungry slut. It wasn’t normal, the warm tickle of your lubricant over his shaft, exquisite in its nature. His heels dug into the bed, balls tightened. He was so damn close to his relief, he could taste it on his tongue, bordering somewhere between immense pleasure and decadent pain. Your need for his pain won out, dipping down over his chest and latching your fangs over his chest-- then up, hooking on the front of his throat. It was going to bruise, badly.

You shook loose his orgasm, ripped free with the need to fill you, own you-- as though he were not the one being owned. His hips staggered, sticky whips of cum coating your walls in waves. More than he’d cum before before. His eyes shut hard, tears pricking the sides of his eyes. Then, as if it never happened, the hold on his hands was released. He struggled with his freedom, his hands slack, softening cock worthlessly weeping over his thigh. The pain-- oh, the pain, it washed over him moments later.

“Woah,” Lyla interrupted, “Miguel! What happened?”

She couldn’t see you. His eyes were like two dark coins, staring up at the ceiling, wide, and unseeing. He can hear her frantic questions, the ligature marks left behind from invincible chains, and the all-too-real blood and bruising that left him utterly ruined.

“It,” he choked out, heat biting at his well-chiseled face. “It hurts.”

He doesn’t remember what comes next. It was five in the morning when he finally rolled out of bed, and onto the floor, gripping the growing headache that grew miserably behind his head. Bitterness bubbled in his stomach, exhaustion in his eyes. The aberration that was his poor sleep was irksome more than anything. He felt someone’s eyes on him, soft and worried, rushing to his aid as though he were an old man who fell off a bed.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Peter said with an undercurrent of concern soaring through his words. “No, wait. I got you.”

He helped him sit against the frame of his bed, a frame that looks small as shit with Miguel’s large body against the frame. He’s unsure of what to say, assuming that Lyla called him in desperation, and let him into the house that Peter most definitely did not have a key to. Miguel’s chest ached. “What happened? Are you… are you okay?”

Everyone seems to ask him that lately.

“I’m fine,” he was alien to the feeling of care. He knew when Miguel dug himself into a hole. Miguel didn’t want to think about what happened only a few hours prior when his exhaustion took over his body and knocked him out. He dreamed of nothing. An abyss of unsettled nothingness, the ache low in his belly to fuck you until you were soaked in his cum and Miguel could finally, finally rest his tired eyes. Miguel pulled on a fluffy white robe Peter supplied, dragging it over thick strips of gauze and medical tape.

“You don't look fine.”

They both know he’s lying, but what else could be said? That the state Peter saved Miguel from was a rarity? That he’s used to being preyed upon by his own delusions? He needs a fuck, maybe that’s it.

“If you’re going to stay, be useful and get me that file.”

“Oh-- okay, this one?” he doesn’t look surprised. He padded across his room to his desk, kicked a chair that was falling apart aside, and picked up the folder on Brujería. It was buried behind more useful folders such as sexual harassment and inter-employee workplace violence. A fact that Miguel wasn’t exactly proud about in the first place.

“Brujería? Like witch stuff, right? No way. You think work is haunted too?” Peter says with a choked-out, nearly forced laugh. Miguel doesn’t pay himself enough for this. Of all the files at hand, it was nearly untouched. It included such things as ancestors, spirits, demons, and curses.

“I don’t. But the workers obviously do.”

Peter was soft and kind, but not stupid. He plopped down next to him and crossed his legs one over the other.

“The ones that say she’s a bruja?” Peter tapped on your photo. Your photo offers emptiness. That though you have a bright smile in the photo, it is undoubtedly fake. He never saw a woman look so innocent and sweet, but dangerous.

“You’ve heard?”

“Well, the men she hangs around always end up dead. They get all successful and rich then, bam, dead. But you can’t believe that right?” Peter reasons. “She’s not cursed, she just has bad luck. She’s always been nice to me.”

“A curse?”

“Yeah,” his warm breath wavers into a sigh. “Stone wanted company, found her in Sacred Heart-- you know, the one they say is cursed?”

“A cursed church? Give me a break. The only curse at Sacred Heart are the exploitive priests.”

“I’m just saying what I heard,” he’s whispering, shivers wracking up his arms at the mere mention. He tries not to push him anymore. Peter stood up and walked to the coffee stand in the corner of his dark room. For the days that he couldn’t be bothered to leave his room, he’d make a hot coffee in the corner and keep working just as he always did. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“Maybe you’re not her taste.”

“Yeah well, probably not. I don't look like you-- but she did call me sexy, so that's something right?” Peter laughed, “Want a cup of coffee?”

Sexy. That's it, he's so fucking sick of this shit.

“No, I don’t want a cup of fucking coffee,” Miguel bit back, shoving the bed several inches as he pushed his hand off of it, storming into his walk-in closet. “Lyla. When is mass at Sacred Heart?”

“Sacred Heart?” Lyla laughed. “You’re kidding--”

“Lyla,” he snarled, chucking his bag across the closet. It connected with his tall, black safe with a loud boom. She was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly momentary confusion for why non-believer Miguel O’Hara wanted to go to, of all things, a Catholic mass.

“6:30,” she answers.

“I’ll go with you,” Peter calls out.

Don’t bother, Miguel returns from the next room.

It’s been a long time since he dressed for mass-- some dark brown slacks and a warm, vanilla button-up. He snaps a chain necklace around his thick, bruised throat and his favorite watch. As he grabbed the manilla folder on brujería he felt like a child, lectured by his grandmother to not be like his bad man-loving, alcoholic mother and go to church. Despite very much not believing in any of this shit, it was frustrating, annoying even, that he had to go back there.

He didn’t want to go but his spirit was unsettled. Something told him that going to his grandmother’s favorite church would give him a sense of illumination, that it would make sense of the things that made no sense.

Sacred Heart stands on a hill, both physically and metaphorically. It takes offerings off the backs of the poor and sits atop a lush hill. Its stained-grey architecture is only beautiful by virtue of its stained-glass murals. He doesn’t care for the saints that loom overhead, unseeing eyes judgemental and cold. Viejitos and the truly devout are the only ones in attendance. Based on Peter’s account, he should expect you there. It doesn't take long to be proven right.

“Bendición.”

Is he hallucinating again? Despite the many rows of unspoken burgundy benches, you sit by him. Miguel is disconcerted as you slide your thick hips by, sandwiching him between the side of the bench and your chunky, beautiful thighs. He worked his words in his mouth for entirely too long.

“Dios te bendiga,” he said, the words chalky and thick in his throat, drawn up from the bottomless abyss of his fluttery stomach. You sat with a black lace veil pinned to your head. The only sort of women who wear a veil are very old or not Catholic at all. He veers on the latter. “You’re Catholic?”

“If you want me to be.”

“Why else would you be here?” he reached over and plucked up a cheap bible from a pouch behind the bench before him. Your eyes follow pupils dilating in a way that isn’t human at all, staring at the many words on the page that spun under his thumb.

“I think you know why,” you said with soft and pliable words. He felt himself melting.

Of course, Miguel thought, you always seem to show up during the most inopportune times.

"You didn't bring a bible," he offers it to you. Your eyes, dilate wide and bright at the sight of the thing, flicker a look down to it, then Miguel again.

"I prefer to listen." You turn away from it. He flipped it in his hand before returning it to its rightful pouch. For some reason, you did not want to be close to the book. He thinks he knows why.

“So you are stalking me.”

"Stalking is such a mean word, Miggy. Haunting, I like haunting better." Miguel throws open the report. He doesn’t want to read it-- but it is the last folder that may hold the information he needs. Your eyes fluttered to the footsteps of others filling their spot, an archaic song on the lips of the practitioners. Wrong page, Miguel.

"What was that?" he asked you.

"Nada."

He looked down to his lap where the report sat. The voices of those present, their lips forming an off-tuned song, itched at his already exhausted mind. The more he fought, the worse it became. You flipped open a black fan and cooled yourself with long flicks of your wrist. He doesn’t think it’s so hot.

“The rosary on your desk is from here, isn’t it?”

How would you know?

“You’re hiding something.”

Page 76. His fingers thumb on the pages on their own accord. Your eyes traced the movement, looking down at the pages before him. On deaths of company men.

I just do.

The thought entered his mind without prompting. He scanned names on the page. Aaron Delgado… asphyxiation. Tyler Stone… myocardial infarction. There were photos pinned there, photos that shouldn’t be so graphic, but somehow are. The men are as naked as the day they came into the world.

“If you say so, Miggy.”

“What are you hiding?”

You brought your hand over the file, closing it shut on top of his hand. He turns his hands over the top. Your fingers run over his knuckles, in misleading circles. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“I don’t hide from the truth.”

“The truth,” you leaned in, your words husky against his ear. “The truth is I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a good girl, Miggy. You have to believe me.”

Something about the way you spoke enraged him, prickling him enough to force him to stand in the middle of the priest’s words. He snatched your wrist with his thick hand, gripping you enough to leave pepper bruises across your skin. Your heels clicked after his boots, out through the foyer, past the bath of holy water, and down the discolored steps.

“Miguel?” you sang like a siren.

He’s hit his limit, throwing you against the discolored church wall. A gasp punched out of your lungs, aggravated by Miguel’s large hand strangling the breath from your throat. He felt warm as he kicked your legs apart and took up that space. The heat doesn’t feel like it is his. His bulge against your skirt certainly is. Now, he seems to expect pleasure when he is in your presence.

“You want me to fuck you, sí? That’s why you’re tormenting me every fucking night.”

“I thought you liked cumming,” you relinquished with a harsh giggle. It grates his last nerve. “You finally look relaxed when you do.”

“Qué mala eres,” Miguel snatched the bottom of your skirt, ripping it up the slit to expose your warm skin. He found no panties there, just smooth skin. He cupped your sex for emphasis. “No panties in church. You're filthy.”

“¿Y qué? You’re proving why I didn’t need them.”

He stared, lingering for a moment, challenging your insistence on control. Since he took over this god-forbidden company, you had been defying him with your devilish smile. Miguel slapped your cunt, eliciting a groan that was half of the pain that he’d had only a few hours ago. You liked it, scratching lines up his arms to his broad shoulders.

“You’re so big,” you balanced his abuse with your overwhelming worship. “So big and pretty.”

“Shut up,” he bit out and slipped his middle finger inside of you, unconcerned for your pleasure. Your muscles tightened around his finger, drawing him deeper. He slides another beside it, his hand leaving your cunt to slap your jaw, forcing you to keep focus. Your tender flesh is hot and red, a wonderful tenderness radiating throughout your jaw.

“And you're dripping, do you have no shame?” He grips your chin to look at your face. Raw defiance was slapped across your face. You rolled your hips onto his hand, forcing him to caress your walls in the right spot. He perked his brow, listening to the priest lecturing in the background. Your sweetness drooled over his curled wrist, dripping from his squelching fingers.

“For you,” you whined. “I want your dick. Give it--”

“You’re a brat.”

He said that-- but he was amused. Miguel slipped down onto his knees, knocking your legs rudely apart. His mouth encircled your puffy clit, bringing it into his mouth and suckling it fat. His rhythm was quick, making a point that he could make you cum too. You weren’t debating him, your hands tight in his hair, loud little moans beating free from your lips. His tongue was warm and soft, kissing and nipping.

The priest went quiet.

“You’re being too loud. Do you want them to hear us?” Miguel’s brow furrowed, slipping up from your vulva.

"Why is that my problem?" You whined in distaste after he stopped pleasuring you, your pulsing cunt beating like an open wound. Asshole.

"You could care for someone other than yourself." Miguel tilted his head, turning you to face the wall. He pulled himself free of his pants-- his thick cock fat against the curve of your ass. That’s what you wanted, he decided, gauging by your whine that came with his action.

"How does that get me what I want?" You shook your ass at him, waiting for him to rear back.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Fine, have it. Just shut up."

He leaned over you, your scratchy black veil catching along his stubble. He doesn’t wait for a response, pushing inside. He wasn’t just thick, he was long. But he knew you already knew that-- you knew every curve of his body, loved the thick veins on his cock that filled you so well. You scratched at the wall as he crushed you into the wall, his hips stuttering with your walls tightening him, drawing him further, impossibly deep.

Estúpida, he thought-- and knew you’d hear it. Whatever you were, you weren’t human. You were somewhere between a human and desire itself, evident in the way you looked at him, pleasured by his rutting hips against the church. The priest went back to his lecture-- the churchgoers enraptured in their worship. The only thing Miguel was enraptured with was the way your pussy tingled, the fluid soaking his cock, and the stretch in your lower belly. His hand clasped over your mouth, index finger poking into your mouth. Your tongue drew him in, fangs nipping his finger.

It earned you a hard slam, stuffing you full, your strange body catching his thrusts beautifully. He slipped his hand over your soft cunt, working your clit for your orgasm, though you deserved no such thing. Habit, he supposed. Gloria a Dios-- the churchgoers clammed with one another. Nearly out of time, your pleasure won out, gushing over his fat cock. Miguel suckled a breath, his ego demanding him to hold out, batter your sweet cunt through your orgasm.

“I’m hungry-- Give it to me,” you bit on his finger, breaking the skin and urging blood to flow into his mouth. Your body twitched violently around his cock, drawing bright pleasure forth. “Give me your cum.”

"Stay out of my dreams."

"I don't want to," you reared your head back at him, your nose tight with wrinkles. He drew you fully onto his dick, the final thrusts were sloppy and immature-- but he held out, making you angrier by the second.

"I'll cum on the floor right here, I don't give a shit."

"No, no! Fine! I promise-- I'll let you sleep," the threat of going hungry is enough that you concede, punching your fist against the wall. He grunts in response and feeds your body with whips of cum that felt far heavier than his usual. A pleasure, far sweeter than any orgasm he could give you. Miguel soaked your sweet little body with his sticky cum, chest swelling heavily against your little back. He finishes and pulls himself free. To his surprise, your cunt doesn’t leak. Miguel staggers back with a perk in his eyebrow.

You look far better for wear than he does, clumsily zipping himself back into cum stained slacks, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. You recline on the wall, inspecting him. He knows how he looks. He's bruised, long gashes down his chest, and properly fucked-- a mess. The manila envelope sits forgotten by your heels, your skirt-- perfect, as though he never tore it in the first place.

“You’re not human.”

Miguel bends down, picking up the folder. Not like he needs it anymore. He does, however, need that information on Project 2099. I can help you, he hears. He catches your wide, toothy smile. You've grown fangs. He isn’t surprised.

“Not even a little.”

[junosmindpalace]

can you make a scenario where saiki accidentally makes his s/o cry so now he literally panicking trying to calm her down? and then out of guilt for the next few weeks he doing all these sweet things for her?

lots of fluff please!

hi there! thank you for your request!

Last week, Saiki was caught up in an incident.

There was just a lot going through his mind, alright? His parents were on his case about errands--particularly his father, exhausting his powers for his own needs--and his friends kept finding ways to drag him along in their endeavors, and he was worn out; both physically and mentally. 

The second he thinks he gets a mental break to himself to recover, you come along and try to make conversation with that irritatingly cheerful voice he’s been having to listen to as people tear him from limb to limb trying to get him to do this and that for them.

So he accidentally comes off a little harsh when he tells you with a murderous glare to just leave him alone. 

And you know Saiki, and Saiki knows you. You know the stress he’s often under, and he knows you just want to spend some time with him. Neither of you have a problem with either of these things usually, but today, it was just a jumble of emotions and some miscommunication that made it all fall apart. 

You try to understand, and you do! But even still, you couldn’t help feeling bad for upsetting him, and are unable to prevent the stray tears that pricked at your eyes from rolling down your cheeks. You immediately wipe them away with the palm of your hand and give him an apologetic smile, but Saiki immediately panics. 

He panics a little simply recalling the incident, even a week later when you’ve practically forgotten all about your crying and getting your feelings hurt. Still, Saiki feels bad, and ever since the incident occurred, he’s been trying to dull the guilt and sense of obligation to compensate for his actions in his heart. 

But though it doesn't seem like he's doing anything unique to an outsider who may not know him very well, you can tell the small shift in his attitude toward you in the weeks following the incident.

Seeing you splayed out in distress over a desk is a sight Saiki has become accustomed to with all the time you spend studying together. Typically, a couple of "motivating" words from him telling you to just pull yourself together and break down the material is enough to get you to begrudgingly pull yourself up and work. As of late, however, he'll tells you to stop moaning about your work when it gets too difficult to understand or you’re too tired to comprehend any of the material, and to just copy off him. He words it in a way that makes it seem that it's to his benefit, but usually Saiki wasn’t the type to lend you his work, believing that you should put in effort yourself, even when you’re whining about it. 

He sacrifices life and limb to help you with your daily tasks. Mundane things he knows you can handle yourself, but now his absolute first instinct is to immediately look for ways he can help you, even if he rolls his eyes and reprimands you at first. Lost something of yours? He’s using clairvoyance to track it down. Forgot something at a certain place when you go out? He’s fighting off traffic, interrogations from his friends, and all the other absurd obstacles he often finds interfering in his everyday life just so he can bring it back to you without raising suspicions of his powers. 

And if all those things weren’t obvious enough he’s been trying to atone, he buys you sweets. All of your favorites over the past couple of weeks, paid in full by him whenever the two of you order or stop by a bakery or restaurant. Maybe one found on your desk throughout the school day. He even shares with you his own if you ask or eye them longingly. 

All of these seemingly menial acts leave you a little suspicious, especially since it had been days since the event happened, and it hadn't taken much time for you to come around from the incident and continue being yourself. You expected that his offer to listen to your rant would be the extent of his atonement. Could he really still be stuck on it?

Your speculation is pretty much confirmed that these things were all attempts at making up for his poor behavior when he finds him yet again in a similar situation, exhausted and frustrated thanks to all the nuisances in his life. And then you come skipping along happily, greeting him with news of your day. His brows furrow, his eye twitches, and he’s about to open his mouth. And then he meets your gaze and he pauses. Takes a second. Remembers what happened last time, can see a flash of that pained face you made. 

You give him a look of confusion as you observe his expression. At that point, he can only sigh and slump back. 

"Saiki?”

"Let’s just go home and talk.”

You might catch onto his drained attitude, and offer to take him to one of his favorite dessert places as a treat to refresh and an apology for not recognizing his burden sooner. He’s immediately brightened by this, of course, and you end off with a win-win situation, with Saiki being able to wind down with some treats, and you being able to spill about your day sitting across from him.

[seneon]

me when i remember i can send mashle requests 🙏🏻 bless your soul, sen 🫶🏻 so, since i’m lwky sick how about rayne, lance, orter (and or anyone else you want) taking care of sick reader? they had to find out you were feeling unwell from someone else too 😗

CARE ──── ft. rayne ames, lance crown and orter mádl.

about. hcs of the boys taking care of their sick s/o | gn! reader.

notes. ava you're such a W for this ily bro 🔥 anyway, keep the mashle requests coming i love everyone who requests for them.

RAYNE AMES

— honestly, bro's so worried for you the moment a classmate rushed to his class to tell him abt you. you're also a second year, just different classes from rayne for today. so he excused himself and rushed right to you.

— there at the infirmary, you sat down on the bed, your weakened state piercing rayne's heart. he went to embrace you in a hug and reassure you that everything is going to be ok. then he helped you to your dorm to rest.

— what intrigued everyone the most was how he traded places with your dorm mate for a few days just because he wanted to look after you while you're sick. during those moments, he looked after you. your food, temperature, symptoms, etc. he was there the whole time, even if he went for some certain classes that he wouldn't want to miss. but most of the time, he skipped those classes.

— rayne made sure everything was perfectly to your preferences. and you've been pretty obedient with the medicine too, which you didn't want rayne to worry about anymore further considering how he's skipping classes just to look after and accompany you. so you try your hardest to get well soon.

— he probably prayed to God for your health to get better soon. and when his prayers were heard, rayne is overjoyed and kept thanking God and you for doing such a great job in hanging tight to go through it all.

LANCE CROWN

— it was lemon who informed him about your health. of course, he would keep his calm composure but on the inside, he's really worried and panicking. lance thinks it was his fault for going too hard on you during your sparring session since it was pretty much him using his gravitational magic to defeat you so it most probably caused your dizzy mind and body.

— the type to pay you visits with his other friends, since they're always with him. but he does it alone, he apologises so much and ends up crying then sleeping by the bed.

— your sickness wasn't that serious, it was just a mild fever. so all you needed was rest, medicine, and some of lance's comforting words. he tells you about what happened during school everyday, updating you about his day then listening to yours.

— lance notes down your classes' lessons and notes and gives them to you after the day or during free time. there's some certain lessons that you didn't share with lance and he would go all the way to ask your classmates or self study to write notes for you.

— after you were discharged from the school's hospital, lance helped you slowly recover from school as much as he could. he was gentle with your recovery and wouldn't want anyone or anything to hurt you so he's ALWAYS with you to serve as your temporary guard. he protects you for a whole full week, like a dad.

ORTER MÁDL

— unlike rayne or lance, he doesn't show that he concerns. but deep down, he cares, and he doesn't. orter is like a two way kinda person, which is a bit complicating. so you won't know if he actually cares or not, since he didn't really reacted when the doctor told him about you.

— but, he tries his hardest to make time to visit you at the hospital since he's a busy man as divine visionary. once he found out that the hospital you were admitted in gives shitty low-class treatment, he immediately demanded for you to be transferred to the best hospital in the country.

— orter manages to get other divine visionaries to sub for his missions and duties so he could be with you and help look after you. the simple feeling and thought of you being alone in a big hospital gives him an unsettling worry so he decides to be there for you.

— he's the smart type of guy, so he does everything logically. if you don't want to take your meds, he'd just drink it, hold it using it tongue, kiss you and force you you to swallow it by covering your nose. pretty comical actually, how'd he tries showing you care but ends up screwing some of it up.

— it's ok tho, he's probably just feeling a bit of like a tsundere. he denies your teasing but ends up getting flustered. that would actually help you a lot in your recovery as your gloomy days spent in the hospital was filled with orter's entertainment until you were discharged, all healthy thus giving orter so many kisses which he would awkwardly return one on your lip.

[dilfl0v3rss]

the checkup

summary: your regular doctor wasn’t in the day of your checkup, so you proceeded your appointment with his fill in…

cw: hospital sex

word count: 2.5k

you weren’t really the type that would go to get a check up every month, but you decided last week that it needed to change. you called the hospital and made an appointment for the man that’s been your doctor since you were in high school, dr. zeke, and made sure it was on a day you were absolutely free so you weren’t late.

when the day came you threw on some calm clothes before driving over to the nearby hospital for your checkup. as you parked your car, you put in one of your airpods and called your friend sasha on facetime since you knew it was a hit or miss when it came to waiting room time. “sup hoe” she mumbled, her phone set up at her vanity while she did her makeup. “sup biatch i’m finna check in real quick” you said before approaching the front desk. “hi what can i do for ya!” the overly happy lady at the desk asked. “m’here for my appointment. y/n l/n?” the woman gave you a small nod while searching you up on her computer to check you in. “you’re here for dr. zeke correct?” you nodded your head. “he’s not in today, but we can put you in for another doctor if that’s okay with you”

why would they not call you to let you know that? you would've been said no and not wasted gas to get here. you didn’t let the annoyance reach your face as you gave the lady a half smile before speaking. “and how long will be take?” the lady looked at her screen again? probably looking at how many other patients were under the replacement. “hmmm not long at all. there’s only one person ahead of you” you nodded your head before telling the lady you’ll take it. as you waited in your chair, you and sasha talked about random things to pass the time.

“yea he was real fine too. short hair, tattoos all over his body, strong arms, and the sexiest grills i ever seen on a man. and his accent? y/nnn i wanted to eat him furreal.” you giggled as you listened to your friend drool over this mysterious bartender she met a couple nights ago. “did you get his number or anything?” you asked. sasha gave you a “duhh” look before holding up a napkin with digits on it. “you know i had t’get that numberrrrr. can’t hold it in the camera too long tho. ion want you to try n steal em” you rolled your eyes as sasha threw the napkin back in her vanity drawer.

“miss l/n?” you lifted your head towards the lady peeking in the waiting room. “that’s me” you said, standing up before you approached the women. “aight sash i gotta go.” you mumbled before hanging up the phone. the woman had you follow her to one of the empty rooms, letting you sit down and get yourself situated before speaking. “okay so m’just gonna check your breathing, hearing, and sight. along with your blood pressure s’that okay?” you nodded your head, letting the women do her job without complaint. when she finished she grabbed her clipboard and headed out the room, telling you the doctor would be there shortly before exiting.

it was only about a five minute wait before your eyes were graced with a beautiful sight. dr. zeke has always been handsome to you, but the man before you right now quickly put him in the back of your mind. “hi, i’m dr. onyankopon jackson. you can call me dr. o, dr. j, dr. oj, it really don’t matter t’me as long as you comfortable.” this man had to be no more than two or three years older than you, fresh taper fade on his head, and shiny clear glasses that sat beautifully on his big nose. “miss? miss you alright” he said, genuine concern adorning his features as his dark brown eyes looked you over repeatedly.

you finally snapped out of your trance, sitting up straighter on the exam table as you gave the doctor a shy smile. “y-yea m’fine dr. o, just a little tired” you said, making his concern deepen as he began to approach you. “hmm, you been getting good sleep lately ms. l/n?” you shook your head as he pulled a small light from the front pocket of his lab coat, getting a good look at your pupils with the light before going to his clipboard to write something down. “you can call me y/n by the way. that’s what i’d prefer” he turned towards you and gave you a small smile. his pearly white teeth shining in the light of the room before he spoke. “okay y/n. i see you’re here for a checkup” he spoke as he read from the his clipboard. “you been having any pain anywhere?"

now where you really having any pains? no. you were healthy as a horse, but he didn’t know that and you didn’t want to leave too early, so ofc course you lied. “been having a little pain in my neck” you said, dragging it further by whimpering a little as you rubbed the back of your “pained” area. dr. o got right up from his seat, making his way to you before lightly touching your neck with his gloved hands. right at the bottom of his glove you thought you saw a hint of ink on his skin, but he was moving too fast for you to see it. “right here?” he asked, his deep voice already sending shivers down your spine. dr. o noticed this, smirking behind you as he continued feeling out the back of your neck for any lumps or bruises.

“mhmm right there” you breathed out. your voice accidentally letting your neediness slip from the feeling of his strong hands on your neck. you don’t know if he worked out or what, but the feeling of his hands were making you melt. “how this feel?” he mumbled before running two fingers from your neck all the way down your spine to your lower back. “feels like you got the wrong job. need to be a masseur.” a hearty chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as dr. o continued to run his fingers along your spine. “i’ll take it into consideration. would you book me?” his voice was like butter, so smooth and deep as he slowly moved his hands from your back. “definitely”

dr. o chuckled before making his way to the front of the exam table. “can you stand up f’me” you did as he said, getting down from your seat on the table before looking to him for your next directions. “try slowly turning your head from side t’side. if you feel any discomfort let me know.” you gave him a quiet “kay” before turning your neck from left to right then up and down. “i was gon say for you t’do that next, but you beat me too it. good girl, maybe you got the wrong job too” your stomach got butterflies from the praise. making you have to use all your strength to mask the fact that you were going crazy over this man. dr. o moved behind you touching your neck and back again to see if there were any changes from when you were sitting down to now.

“kay now bend over f’me. touch your toes if y’can” your palms were sweating now, making you have to repeatedly wipe them on your leggings before you bent over, touching your toes just like he said. you didn’t miss the small “damn” that left his mouth at the sight of your red thong showing through the thin fabric of your leggings. he once again had his big strong hands on your back, moving up towards your neck from behind you. as he reached the top of your neck you began to feel something hard poking your ass. “uhh doctor?” you said in a small voice, pulling dr. o out of his trance before he replied. “yes ma'am?”

“do you have something in your pocket?” his eyes slowly went from your ass to his pants, his hard on fighting the fabric of his black slacks just from the look of your body. he knew what he was about to do was very unprofessional and could probably cost him his job, but he just couldn’t resist any longer. “no” he said before pushing himself into you. his big gloved hands grabbing your hips to keep you from falling before the doctor began grinding his dick into your clothed pussy. a moan flew from your mouth at the contact, making your hand instantly fly to your mouth to keep from someone hearing. “y’know, ion think anything on your body hurts at all, but i can fix that. you want the doctor t’fix it?” as he spoke, your arousal started to flood your panties, quickly soaking them as well as your thin leggings. dr. o noticed this, smirking before slowly turning you around to face him.

“y-yes” you whispered, earning you a small kiss on the lips before he picked you up and placed you back on the table. “lay down f’me, there’s a spot ian get t’check yet” as soon as you laid down his gloved fingers were in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down so he could get a better look at your panty clad pussy. “i jus know she’s pretty just from seeing her soak up like this” he mumbled before leaning down and giving it a sloppy kiss. the fabric of your panties getting even more soaked as he tongue kissed your clit through it. “o-ohh my goshh dr. o pleasee” you whimpered, your hands flying to his hair as you pushed his face deeper into you. he looked up at you, moving back so he can undo his belt with one hand and remove your soaked panties with the other. “you can call me ony princess. we more than well acquainted now” he said with a smirk before pulling your body towards him by your thighs. ony freed his dick from his boxers, the sight of it making your eyes widen. this man was packing. he smiled at your surprise, teasing you a little by rubbing it up and down your already sensitive pussy.

“i don’t have a condom” you leaned up towards him, your lips centimeters away from his as you caressed the nape of his neck. “put it in, we’re more than well acquainted now” your big brown eyes blown with lust as ony gave you a devilish grin. without another word he sunk deep into you, dick already filling you up and he was only halfway in. “you can take the whole thing can’t you ma?” you nodded your head, crashing your lips into his to muffle your moans as ony shoved the rest of his inches inside of you. he didn’t stop there, pounding you repeatedly without giving you any time to adjust, the stinging stretch of him bringing tears to your eyes.

“i know mama, but i’m a busy man. got another appointment in thirty minutes.” he continued to fuck you deeply, wrapping his gloved hand around your throat while having you suck the fingers of his other. the latex taste spreading all over your tongue as your drool began to drip from your lips to your shirt. “sloppy little mouth you got. wish i had enough time t'put it to work” you whined before slowly releasing his fingers with a pop, your pussy fluttering around his dick from the thought of him fucking your throat. “i can always come back for another check up” you said in a breathless tone, making ony smile before he quickly started picking you up by your thighs. “s’much as i would love that. i think i rather have you in my bed”

a smile would’ve graced your features if you werent getting fucked so good right now. you settled for a quick nod as ony continued to bounce your body and and down his dick. he gave you a few more strokes before putting you down. quickly turning you around and bending you over the table before sliding right back in. before you could scream, ony’s latex covered hand surrounded your lips. his palm muffling your cries as he quickly pounded away at your pussy. your clit rubbed repeatedly on the leather of the table as his strong thrusts would jerk your body back and forth. “you on the pill mama? don’t want you coming in here for different types of checkups” he said, smiling as he watched you quickly nod your head yes. you were eager for this man to cum in you. “good girl” ony groaned before picking up his pace, dick twitching repeatedly inside of you as he felt his release on the tip of his tongue. you were right there with him too, the double stimulation of your clit and g spot finally getting to you as you clenched tightly around his dick. “i feel it ma. let it out f’me” a shiver ran down your spine at his words, your final scream muffled from his hand as you shook and squirted all over his pants. the feeling of his cum filling you soon came after as the two of you caught your breath.

“you good?” he asked, turning your head towards him so he can check on you. there was a lazy smile on your lips as you looked up at him with glossy eyes. “feel so much better now, thank you doctor” ony mirrored your smile, his pretty teeth making your stomach do flips before he spoke “my pleasure”. as the two of you got dressed and fixed yourselves up, he removed his wet gloves and made sure to put that you were feeling great on his chart before handing you a paper to show that you’ve been taken care of. “aha! i knew you had tattoos. how old are you anyways.” you said as you looked at his ink filled hands.

ony looked up at you from his seat, smiling as he took off his lap coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. there were tattoos running up and down his arms and even some peeking at you from his collar. “got some on my chest too, but you just gon have to come over to see, and i’m twenty six” like you thought, he was older than you. a smile graced your features as you limped to the door, giving the man an annoyed look as he laughed. “you look like you might actually need a doctor now” you rolled your eyes at his teasing before straightening yourself up and walking as normal as you could out of the room.

as you made it to your car, you realized that you didn’t ask for ony’s phone number. “fuck” you breathed as you glanced towards the paper he signed before giving you. ‘maybe if i search up his name i can find his insta or sum’ you thought as you picked up the paper only to find that you wont be needing to do any of that. there in big red ink read his name and number with a little note at the bottom.

ony 347-***-****

‘call me when you need another checkup’

[shiny-jr]

Pleasing and begging please...something with soft yan Vil....maybe specifically something about him protecting his darling from some particularly jealous and vindictive fans?

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When news finally got out that you, a common person, was dating the Vil Schoenheit, all hell seemed to break loose.

Note: Man, y'all really like soft yan Vil stuff, huh? Come get y'all food. This came out way longer than I thought it would. Oh, and it’s 1AM when I checked for mistakes, so sorry if there’s some I missed.

Vil hadn't meant for this to happen. All he had wanted was to have a nice serene dinner with you. It was at an exclusive restaurant on the highest floor, a space he rented so he could be entirely alone with you and there would be no one else to disturb you. While you were in awe at the sight of the city lights from clear glass windows from on high, he was distracted too. Not by the sight, oh no. There was something else, or rather someone else, far more beautiful right in front of him. Perhaps that was his mistake, distracted by admiring you with eyes filled with love, so entranced that he failed to notice the waiter by the door quietly snapping a photo of the two.

Everything was normal the next day. The quiet before the storm. Vil was busy with some filming, apparently landing a role in a highly anticipated movie. You were in a cafe, quietly relaxing with a magazine and on the cover was your very partner. As you sipped on your drink of choice, you listened in to the noises around you. People ordering coffees and overpriced macaroons, the ding! of the cash register, the chime of the bell above the entrance. When a lively little intro song came on, your eyes drifted to the source: the television.

The screen displayed a youthful looking woman, one that hosted those types of talk shows where they spoke about the hottest trends, conversed about the most dramatic of events, and discussed the most baseless of celebrity rumors. It's bright colors and loud volume immediately caught your eye. You decided to watch, taking another long sip of your beverage as the pretty hostess appeared in her chair.

"And the hottest story today, Vil Schoenheit was pictured last night, reportedly on a date!"

What.

The hostess laughed, sounding a little fake as she continued with a pearly white smile, "The leaker of the photo says that Vil seemed extremely close with this person he was with. Now who exactly is this mysterious stranger? Their identity was uncovered, revealed to be a person by the name of (Y/n) (L/n)!"

When an image of your face came on screen, you nearly spat out your drink as you choked, "What the fu–"

The sudden noise from you had caught the attention of others around you. Almost immediately their eyes widened, some looking at the image beside the talking host and back at your face. Others bold enough to take out their cameras and start recording or snapping photos.

It appeared that one of Vil's super fans was even there, judging by the pin with his face on their bag and the smell of the perfume he last did an advertisement for. This particular fan got close, too close as she clutched her phone, obviously recording. "Oh my god, it's you! Are you really dating Vil? Seriously?"

By now all eyes and lenses in the cafe were on you as you awkwardly stood and gathered your things. "I, uh... I-I have to go." Without looking back, you sped out the door, nearly certain that some were still curiously following you.

When you looked at the huge screens over the Main Street of downtown, you saw your face and Vil's. As you walked, you swore people were looking, a crowd must've been forming behind you like a horde of zombies. No matter where you went, you could hear the talking hostess on phones in people's hands and small televisions in display windows.

As you heard those strangers behind you call your name, you refused to look back. When you felt their touch on your shoulder or feel them tug on your shirt, you felt your anxiety spike. Ripping yourself out of their grip, you increased your speed to a jog and ran into the closest store you saw.

As you looked around for a way out, someplace to hide, you spotted some changing rooms in the corner. Before those pursuers could find you, you made a beeline for the changing rooms and swiftly closed the curtains behind you. Lifting your feet off the ground to avoid being seen at all, you curled up on the small chair and went completely silent upon hearing more people enter the store. Thankfully, the changing rooms were very well hidden, so you should be safe for now.

Not even a second later, your phone began ringing. At first you were tempted to decline the call, already fearing that somehow those crazy host shows had gotten a hold of your number. But when you saw the smiling photo of a certain blonde man you set as his contact image, you immediately swiped up to answer the FaceTime call.

Vil's frazzled and alarmed face appeared on the screen. Before you could even say a word, he spoke in a slightly panicked tone, "My dear, are you alright?! Where are you at this very moment? The chauffeur has picked me up and we're on our way right now." So he just found out too.

When you informed him of your location and what had happened upon finding out, he appeared horrified that you had to hide in a changing room. Distantly you could hear him frustratingly tell the chauffeur, "I don't want to be there soon, I need to be there now!"

Vil could see you were obviously scared, and who wouldn't be after literally being chased by his fans? So he remained on the line, whispering sweet words of comfort as he attempted to remain calm for you. After a moment, he spoke again, "I'm going through a tunnel soon. I'm going to hang up, but once we're through, I'll call right back, do you understand? Whatever you do, do not check your social media accounts."

He hung up. You checked your social media accounts. You could only hope it was a bad dream, but your name being number one trending and your face on the day's top article, was enough to inform you that it was not some dream. Just a quick scroll and you could see users critiquing your appearance, many haters but also supporters in the midst. Your direct messages had +99 over them, meaning some of these strangers had even tried to directly contact you. You didn't have to be a genius to know that many of them were going to be harsh and unnecessary insults.

By the time the limousine arrived, many people had already left, but there were still the stragglers left behind. Stragglers which immediately took notice of the limousine pulling up and the familiar star emerging. Vil ignored them all, no matter if they approached or not, and went straight to the changing rooms where he fetched you. Instantly he embraced you, glad to see you safe. But the embrace did not last long. After all, you were still in the public eye, being followed and all. As of now, his priority was escorting you home and then he would deal with this.

Placing an arm around you, he guided you towards the car. He kept his head held high, appearing indifferent past his round sunglasses. But you knew better. You were hidden by the jacket he had wrapped around you, which you used to hide your face. Judging by the bright flashes, paparazzi had arrived on the scene, likely given a tip by one of your pursuers from earlier. These paparazzi would no doubt follow you and Vil all the way home. 

Your name on their tongues with their unfamiliar voices, the bright flashing lights, the bodies all around you trying to get closer, it all felt like too much. That was why you were grateful that Vil rushed to get you back to the limousine safe and sound, and immediately had the chauffeur drive off once you both were secure inside. 

Once the car took off, Vil embraced you again, tighter and for much longer. For now, you felt safe. Vil clutched you firmly as he murmured, “I apologize... I truly am so sorry for what you’ve gone through because of me.” Then, his voice became angry as he pulled away, but still held you by the shoulders as he assured, “This is unacceptable! They ruined everything...! They frightened you, they meddled into our private affairs, all of it is unforgivable! Judging by the view of the leaked image, it had to have been a staff member at the restaurant we dined at last night. I’ll see to it that whoever did it is ruined, and the company shall recompense us in some way. For now... please, depend on me. I apologize again, but I’ll do my very best to make things right.”

The night he gets you your very favorite drink and food, in order to comfort you. Anything you ask for at that time, is basically yours. He’s just so frightened, not because of the breach in privacy but he’s terrified that this’ll make you want to leave. It’s why he dedicates almost all his time and effort into silencing nasty rumors and gossips, or at least trying to. It’s impossible to really silence it. 

For the next few days, Vil sticks by your side like glue. If you don’t want to go anywhere, he stays beside you. If you allow it, he’ll take you to work with him. If and when you do go to work, he’ll demand a small staff and is very meticulous about how cameras are used. He’s sort of developed a small list of rules. No photographs of you without your permission, no speaking about the incident or news of the incident unless you bring it up, and be very very careful about what you say about his beloved. 

Now everyone and their mom seems to know about you. Its a huge deal, and everyone is talking about it. Some discussed your looks, others like fans were enraged and jealous that you were dating Vil, and there were those that supported you and were sympathetic. Everyone had an opinion. Although you didn’t read them, you were avoiding social media for your own sanity.

When you were leaving an airport with Vil from a recent flight, that was thankfully private, the welcome was not so private. The news was still relatively fresh, with many still attempting to squeeze out any piece of information. You were welcomed by crowds of Vil fans and curious onlookers, with paparazzi and camera men in the mix. The clicks of cameras and the people’s shouts were deafening. 

Vil had some guards that kept everyone else within an arm’s length away, but still, there were so many people... You clutched Vil’s arm tighter as he patted your knuckles with his other hand, noticing your distress and quickening his pace to get you to someplace you can relax. 

Abruptly, you heard running footsteps. When you turned around, you were stunned to see a girl had somehow wormed her way past some of the guards and nearly lunged at you or Vil. You weren’t sure who she was aiming for, if she wanted to attack you or cling to Vil. Just before she could grab either you or him, she was yanked back by guards. 

The blonde beside you appeared appalled and disgusted, but he never stopped moving. No, he only kept moving faster, letting airport security handle that one rabid fan as he continued to escort you to safety. But when he was finally behind closed doors, oh boy... 

Vil was absolutely livid. His fingers ran over your hair, checking you over for injuries, and smoothing down the wrinkles in your outfit. All of his actions were gentle in contrast to his harsh tone and enraged expression. “How dare they try to touch you...?! Those disgusting no-good--– They have no right! Someone as lowly as them, would only sully you! Right now we need more guards! I cannot risk you getting hurt! Who knows what she would’ve done? From now on, you will be accompanied by an entourage of a dozen bodyguards. I will continue to stick by you and protect you. I’m sorry, my dear, you do not deserve to go through this. You only deserve the best.” 

He gazed down at you through his lashes, his anger melting into regret. Damn it all, if only he had been more vigilant that night when the photograph was taken. If he had noticed, then none of this would be happening! “This will not break us apart, I will not allow it. You know I love you, despite all that’s happening and everything that is being said, right? I love you so much, so please be patient with me as I organize everything for your own wellbeing.”

[vampirzina]

Could you do headcanons of the Earthrealm Heroes with a Skater Punk reader who fights with a baseball bat?

⛧ ┆earthrealm heroes quad (raiden, kung lao, johnny cage & kenshi) w. skater punk!reader hcs

tws: gn pronouns (you only), sfw, violence, softy/sappy kung lao and kenshi, fluff-ish, established relationship, mdni

notes: again trying some formatting styles and whatnot

masterlist

Raiden isn’t opposed to your personal choice of style. It compliments his youthful self/personality. But it wasn’t really what drew him towards you

For a few outings, you teach Raiden how to skate. He’s clumsy at first, earning a few scrapes and bruises, but you being there to help him makes them painless and it’s a lot less humiliating when you’re not judging or teasing him (at least not as often as Kung Lao).

Why you carry a baseball bat, Raiden found out. He’d catch you in the act. If it’s before the Madam Bo and Lin Kuei scene, he would be shocked, but if it’s after the fact, he would find it brutal but wouldn’t bother you about it. A baseball bat is a mouse in comparison to the amulet he has.

⫘⫘⫘

Raiden winces as you the weapon connects with the abdomen of the attempted attacker. He goes down onto his knees, and you help him to the floor with a shove of your foot.

He prefers using his hands to engage in kombat, but he had not much choice but to stand back even though he was the one to have run up after he saw you being manhandled.

As soon as you got to swinging, he’d finally understood why you brandish that thing so much.

“He’s not going to bother me anymore. Let’s go,” you deduced, swinging it until it rests upon your shoulder again. “It’s late and I was already coming over for cuddles… Need them.”

Raiden obliges to walk you back the rest of the way, but not without a glance at the reeling crook.

⫘⫘⫘

Raiden constantly warns you to be careful, and watch where you’re swinging that thing. Still your biggest fan.

──── ⛧

It’s what drew Kung Lao to you at first. Your style was just a bonus. When you fight with a bat, he can’t seem to care how you carry yourself as a punk. With his prowess as a fighter who mainly uses his fists and a bladed hat for support, he likes someone who enjoys using blunt force as well.

If you let Kung Lao, he’ll teach you how to fight with your fists as well. Just so you both can be matching, in a way. Sparring also helps show off, and if it impresses you at all he’d give you that one cheeky smile that shows off his dimple; he’s the most empowered when you praise him. It’s a shame he’s already mastered skating (if you ever taught him), he loved the constant praise you gave him.

On days where you’d both be rotting inside, Kung Lao likes those languid moments when you both are laid up together and listening to your music. His taste in music is nothing like yours really, but he doesn’t mind it. As long as he could enjoy these lazy moments. You’re his type, if not one of them.

⫘⫘⫘

Russet eyes open only to close again and pull your lower half to Kung Lao tighter, aching muscles having caught up with him from the rigorous training he’d endured today at the Wu Shi.

You had planned a lot for today with him, but it started raining.

The fast music blaring from your shared headphones can’t cancel out this mild moment between you and Kung Lao, who buries his head further into your stomach.

You card your fingers through his hair to brush it out of his face, just once, before hugging his head further into you. Nasty weather sucks.

⫘⫘⫘

Your precious bat is damaged from Kung Lao’s hat, but you keep it like a badge.

──── ⛧

Johnny Cage already knew because he was almost on the receiving end of it. When you both first met he was mouthy with you, and whether or not you had the patience for the man didn’t matter. It’d almost ended in you pummeling him… To which he thought would be a perfect way to get closer to you. You awakened something in him.

Johnny Cage records you, whether or not you’re simply skating or beating the ever-loving crap out of someone. There’s not much to it other than “it’s hot” when you ask him. You have to beg him to not share you literally committing assault/acting out of self defense (not that he would).

Various attempts from Johnny Cage to mimic your style, even if Johnny Cage was bad at it. It got you laughing, at least. He’d gift you a new skateboard, and an expensive brand of it too. If it’s one you’ve always wanted, he gets extremely cocky when he sees you love it lots. Also buys you vinyl of your favorite bands.

⫘⫘⫘

“Dude, no chance,” you say in disbelief, immediately almost ripping the present from the actors’ hands. “No chance, nochancenochancenochance. Cage, I was just joking.”

“Don’t joke. That’s my job,” Johnny smirked, and he’s too nonchalant about it. “Hey, you’re welcome. But I bet you could kiss me right now.”

You paused your marveling to look at him in sheer stupor. He leaned towards you, lips puckered and eyes closed, waiting.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, yet you humor him.

⫘⫘⫘

Johnny lets you play your music on the speakers in his mansion.

──── ⛧

Kenshi isn’t as moved as his peer, unfortunately. He sees (and has saw) people harnessing bats all the time. Your personal style, however, is newer to him. He overlooks it and doesn’t too much care as you both get along too well. Nothing would really be out of the ordinary or have changed because of your style, but he’d make subtle to small gestures to accommodate it.

(i.e; he would gift you certain things that go in tandem with how you dress/what you like/your style)

Like Kung Lao, Kenshi enjoys the paced times between you two. Whether it be pre-incident or post-incident it doesn’t really matter. The only thing different is that regardless of weather, he would settle down with you if you wanted to. If you wanted to go out, at least one or both of you have to be carrying [a weapon].

The park is Kenshi’s favorite spot now that he’s met you. You get to skate, he gets to watch/feel you, it’s a win-win. He carries your bat for you. If you leave it at home on purpose, he takes his sword with him. If you have music playing out loud, he manages it while you skate up and down the rink. Kenshi has a lot of fun with you (because no stranger really tries anything with the both of you).

⫘⫘⫘

The golden hue of the setting sun washed you and Kenshi in it. It were silent, for the most part between the two of you, as you skated by his side. Despite that though, your hands were locked together.

“Baby?”

“Mm?”

“…You think it’s too late to grab a bite to eat at that one restaurant?” you asked as his head turned towards you, your foot touching the pavement to push off of it gently enough that keeps yourself level with him. “The one that serves that combo meal you got me one time.”

“I’m sorry. It’s probably not,” he answered, frowning at the image of you disappointed. “But we can still make it at home, alright? Come on.”

⫘⫘⫘

Kenshi really wouldn’t have you any other way.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

[miyaur]

hello! can you please write for liyue’s men (with like tartaglia/baizhu/scaramouche too) and their types? like what they look in a s/o and what kind of s/o they’d like/it would suit them best? thxxxxxx

⟢ my kind of woman ft. liyue men + tartaglia & scara ・synopsis. what kind of person are they into? or really who'd match them best? ・notes. yay jing yuan and blade theme my baes, anyways!! i love this sm ive rly wanted to write ab smth like this!! oh also this is really just my thoughts plus relationship headcannons :D ・warnings. suggestive , GN!READER. title is inspired by mac demarco's song :)

opposites attract, the olive theory, i like to believe that most lovers are usually the opposites of each other, or atleast disagree with something in a way. ・for zhongli, having to deal with childe and hu tao everyday, it isn't a breath of fresh air when it comes to an s/o that's overly affectionate and loud, not that he finds it annoying, finds it very cute, every little bit of affection you give him makes his day always. other people might find you overtly obnoxious, but he'd never, everything about you honestly is really.. perfect.. to him. can't describe it in words, even if you were to be similar, he's the type to always expect it, and be the only person not being scared by you, and he's honestly okay with that, hu tao is probably your guys' matchmaker! will trap you both in a closet together while you visited the funeral parlor, gives it about... 15 minutes.. and small hickey can definitely be seen on you and him, is both happy and goes "ew... get a room!!" and also the person to stash both of you guys into a cramped area when she knows very damn well you both like each other.. well took you both long enough honestly, definitely got impatient and pushed you guys... a bit..

・alatus xiao... definitely will tell you you are annoying at first, but you are the annoying he loves <3. the only annoying person he will listen to, and give forehead kisses to, and cuddle all night 'till he sleeps. you really are an exception... but if he'll be totally real with himself, he loves it when you bug him to tell him about what happened today, or who you've talked to, or if you've seen anything new, falls in love all over again every time that you do. likes zoning out when you rant, and all he can see is your pretty smile going on and on about some vendor who gave you free food. likes to shut you up with a kiss, does it often, and makes both of you red. whenever you hear him say something like "do you ever shut up?", it translates to "please keep talking with that soothing voice of yours." i promise he loves you so much, just is still getting used to it.

extrovert x introvert kind of way, one that talks alot, one that listens alot. ・oh loverboy childe/tartaglia.. literal devil x angel type of relationship, in this case, he's the devil. loves bothering you, like even if you give him something while he waits for you to be done with whatever you need to be done, he can't be distracted from distracting his lover?! still a huge sweetheart, don't get me wrong, the type to really memorize things about you too, notices so many little things about you, like even things you don't even notice. but someone who can tolerate his shenanigans are the best match for him. the best hugs ever too, so when you're stressed, just ask for cuddles and kisses and he'll be there to talk to you, even if you don't wanna talk about it, he'll talk to you about his day to comfort you instead. loves you like you are an angel from heaven that blessed him, because you were, and you did.

・kaedehara kazuha.. in this case you are the extrovert, likes to listen you rambling about something from work, the type to hold you close to his chest and hum a familiar tune to get you to sleep, likes to just watch and listen to someone who tends to talk a lot with no one listening to them, but he's always there for you. such a sweetheart with it too, loves to hold your hand while you do, if anyone tells you you're annoying best bet he'll deal with them, with words. isn't shy to say you're his s/o, unintentionally tells everyone about you, "honestly s/o is such a dear for me. they ---." he's ranting to a toucan by the way.

grumpy x sunshine, this is scaramouche with his s/o, if i do say so myself. literal showers of affection in private, 'cold-hearted' in public, promise he doesn't mean the insults he spits at you. still willing for a bit of pda though, basic holding hands is the only kinda he allows tbh, lowkey flexes you when he's with someone else, "oh you know, s/o would've done better than you." so even if you haven't even met them, probably one of his coworkers or friends are already fed up with you (as a joke and seriously), if he's ever upset, he'll really just come over to you, ready for your little kisses on his cheeks, and your head on his lap, just adoring each other, like no one else would.

sun x moon is what baizhu and you would be. and goes so far to already decide what to call your children together. stars. in this case, you're his sun, loud, kind, caring, everything he could imagine, him? oh he's not all that special. he thinks you fell from celestia because wow you really shine, and he's more than thankful everyday that, and likes to spend time with both you and qiqi. so he also does call qiqi a star too <3. just like kazuha, he likes listening more than talking, does the zoning out thing too, changsheng has to tell him to stop so he listens to you, a bright person with someone like him really just.. he knows how much he's been blessed by archons.

❀ᴗ͈ ᴗ͈）taglist: @edit-me-prettyplease | wanna be tagged for my posts? click here!

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Pumpkin Carving [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

Title: Pumpkin Carving [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

Synopsis: Derek is a stickler for traditions.

For Horrorfest request:

Derek + carving a jack-o-lantern face into his captive's chest

Word count: 884

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, violence against reader, blood, knives

Your jaw aches from how much you’ve clenched your teeth in the last twenty minutes--or has it been longer? You sometimes count seconds in your mind during moments like this, but you’re probably off--to avoid screaming. Or begging. Though you know that he wants to hear both of them in spades, as if he hasn’t already gotten his fill of your screams and tears and blood.

But Derek, if anything, is a spoiled asshole incarnate. No matter how much he has, no matter how much he gets--how much he takes--he wants more. And more. And more. 

Maybe that’s why he presses particularly harder onto the center of your chest, slicing the knife down and wiggling it around to widen the wound so that the pain is too sharp, too new, to ignore. 

And you finally slip, your teeth throbbing when you finally release your jaw to cry out--

“Fuck!”

Above you, Derek snickers. 

“Took you long enough, didn’t it?” 

The dam is broken now, and you can’t help the whimpers, the grunts, the pitiful cries that bubble past your dry lips as he hums and continues carving a pattern onto your chest. 

“Don’t move so much,” he tells you, leaning backwards to take in his work-in-progress. “If you fuck this up, I’ll have to find some other way to celebrate Halloween tonight.” You didn’t want him to find some ‘other way,’ although you sincerely doubted this was all he had planned anyway, so you resolve to keep your body as still as possible.

That’s what you're good for--listening to what Derek tells you. 

He’d told you to lay down on the floor earlier, and you did. You weren’t wearing a shirt today (he told you not to bother putting one on in the morning, which meant your stomach was on edge all day, anticipating what was going to happen) so all he had to do was straddle you, pull out the knife, and get to work slicing and dicing.

For once, he’s not using his favorite hunting knife on you, but a sharp, bright orange pumpkin carving knife he had one of the butlers pick up from the supermarket. It's the type of knife you used on pumpkins, back before all this. The kind with a cute little pumpkin on the handle.

You should, theoretically, be grateful that he’s not using the hunting knife. Then he’d be going deeper than he currently is, though it still hurts like hell. It is meant to cut through thick pumpkin flesh, after all. And it is cutting through flesh… yours.

You never get used to any of it. The pain. The scent of your own blood. The way your arms begin to feel heavy after a while from the blood loss. The awful stinging, aching, throbbing that echoes through whatever wound he’s creating anew on your flesh. 

Eventually, he’s satisfied, because he sets down the knife and drags you to your feet. You don’t struggle against him as he pulls you towards the floor-length mirror set-up in front of his walk-in closet door. 

You don’t really see it at first. There’s too much blood. Oozing and dripping down onto the carpet, ensuring the maids would have something special to do tonight. 

Derek sighs and grabs one of his shirts that he’d previously tossed on the floor this morning. He wipes away the blood, ignoring the way you curse and sway on your feet, with the silken material.

It’s a jack o’lantern. 

Big enough that the round edges of the pattern skirt against your nipples, bringing the sting close enough that you thought, briefly, he might just cut through them. Mercifully he didn’t, but if you were being cynical (and you were, all the time) it was likely so that they didn’t lose any sensitivity in the future.

It’ll scar, though. Especially with the jagged cuts he’s created. Unless he gets the plastic surgeon his family keeps on tap to come in and take care of it, although you’ve heard the man tsk at Derek’s requests before, mumbling that he’s a doctor, not a miracle worker.

At least he’s had his fun here. Maybe he’ll want to go get drunk with his “friends” tonight and come back too inebriated to do much more. Though Derek has no real friends, you’ve realized, because people are only around him for his money. Or because they’re being held captive, like you. Or because they have to be, like his family, who only stays on this estate (you’ve gathered, from Derek’s ranting) due to their father’s obsessive control over his children. 

“Almost finished,” he says, spinning you around a little in the mirror. “Just needs that finishing touch.” 

“What do you mean?” Your own voice sounds like it’s muffled, spoken through wool and tinny ringing. It never gets easier, no matter how much he hurts you. There’s always the shock that comes with the pain. That’s something you’ve learned quite well. 

He scoffs, like you’re stupid. Then he smiles  at you in the way you hate the most, that smug, awful, sticky looking smile.

”It’s not a jack o’lantern if it’s not lit up, is it?”

He pats your head like you’re a dog.

“I’ll be right back with some candles.”