#he got really inspired with the painting behind them as you can tell

[desirableendings]

Please appreciate my brother’s fanart of Succession that he gave me for my birthday

[praeluxius]

Impulse

male reader x hanni & danielle of newjeans

5.8k words - it's quick and it's messy masterlist here

thank you @gangplanksorenji for inspiring

Another fucking day. Another fucking problem.

You have half a mind to throw the phone onto the floor, and it's all thanks to her. She refuses to make this easy for either of you—fighting tooth and nail for everything she can get. You're just happy there’s no kids involved.

The two of you never got that far.

Even getting married is a regret. You punch the toilet stall door in frustration before dropping your phone back into your pocket.

And to make things worse, admin just can't get your schedule right. So you have another hour to burn away and waste before the next set of students, who want to be there just as little as you do, spill through the door to your lecture hall.

You make your way back inside. Maybe you can waste some time grading papers.

"Girls? What are you two still doing here?" you ask as you close the lecture hall door behind you.

Danielle is the first to answer. "Well, we noticed you left your stuff behind, so we wanted to keep an eye on it for you."

"And well, you left in such a hurry, we want to make sure you are okay." Hanni follows up, approaching you with a concerned look on her face.

"Well thank you girls, but that's not necessary. Don't you have classes to get to?" You dismiss them. Even if it is a lie, you're not going to bore them with your home troubles. How do you tell anyone, more so your students, that your wife is busy banging her personal trainer?

"No sir, we're free for a whole hour now. And I don't know about Dani here, but I'm hoping to use this time for some hard studying."

Hanni's leaning on your desk as you're scooping up some papers into your bag. She has one hand placed on the back of the other, planted on the edge of the desk, and she's leaning forward. Add to that how she has conveniently not managed to fasten the top three buttons of her blouse and you have quite the sight. Dani is a couple of steps behind her, slowly making her way forward. You can see that she, too, is in no great rush to fully button her shirt.

"Well, I'm sure you girls know where the library is, now if you'll excuse me—"

"I really hope you don't mind, professor, but…" She shoots a quick glance back at Dani's over her shoulder and winks at her. "My best friend over here has some trouble understanding the material. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand?"

"Yeah, sir, I really need it." Dani is pressing herself against Hanni, chest to back, and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Your material is really... hard." Hanni giggles a little at her friend and sways her ass back into her best friend, encouraging a giggle of her own. Both girls seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

These two sweet things are painted in mischief, with their hands around each other, framing themselves as the duo that could keep you happy and fulfilled with round after round of stress-relieving sex.

Stop it. You can't do this.

"Ladies..." You begin to protest.

"We would be ever so grateful to you, sir. Isn't that right, Hanni?"

"So grateful."

"And believe me, we are very willing to learn." Dani slips her hand down Hanni's front, tucking it into the opening of her shirt. It's brazen and shameless. You shouldn't be watching, but you can't seem to pry your eyes away from what's happening. What's more, you can feel your cock swelling up at the sight of it.

"Ladies. I'm a professional and I would never—"

"Then why are you always staring, professor?" Hanni confronts you. "When I sit at the front and I catch you looking at my legs. And then I open them a little, and pull up my skirt for you..."

"You like her legs, professor?" Dani continues the barrage, pulling up the hem of Hanni's skirt. "You like to stare at them?"

"He always stares at them, and he thinks I don't notice." Hanni giggles softly.

"And I bet he goes home and thinks about your legs when he—"

"Girls. Enough." Your face is burning up and you know they see it.

"It's okay professor, I like it. I'm sure we have had some very similar thoughts about each other, actually." Hanni lowers her tone and you shift in place, tugging at your collar. When did it get this hot in here? She keeps talking, telling you: "When I go home and I lie on my bed, I lift up my skirt and spread my legs. I just wish you were over me. Pinning me down and—"

"Stop."

Dani can't hold back her gentle laughter. "What's wrong sir? You seem so stressed recently. I think this is���we are—exactly what you need." There's a soft whine in her voice, one that's cooing at you—enticing you.

Hanni starts to move and Dani slips away from her, freeing her from her grasp. Hanni puts one knee up on the desk between you, and then the other, and perches herself on it. It's enthralling for a multitude of reasons, but if anything, it's the sweet and eager smile on her face that's most alluring. Her soft voice gets your heart beating hard, "I don't want my favourite teacher to be stressed. You can do anything you like to me. Anything you want." You glance down at her and it might be those big brown eyes, or how she tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear waiting for your answer, but you start to concede to the reality. Then your eyes fall. Further and further to that gap between her half-open blouse. She says please and her words take on a life of their own, fluttering right to your stiffening cock.

You want this. Maybe even need this.

"Miss Pham..." You trail off in failed protest. Dani rounds the table until she is stood by your side, she places a hand on your shoulder, which her face barely reaches. Her other hand brushes over your waist then to your belt and she wraps a finger around it, gently tugging you closer and saying, "so sir, how can we help relieve your stress?"

Fuck. Fuck it.

You reach out for Hanni, placing your hand on her cheek and she melts into your touch. You pull her to you and it's almost magnetic as you feel her lips pressing into yours and her tits pressing into your chest.

Kiss her. Kiss her slowly, and while it might look like she's innocent, deep down her lips are beginning to soak with desire, and you're kissing that into her. Her hands start to grab at your blazer, pulling herself closer to you and she lets out a moan into your mouth, and you return by brushing your tongue onto hers.

You run hands down her sides. She's so feminine and her body is trim and fit, small but plump in the right places. Further you touch until you’re going over her hips and to her ass. You tease her with a light rub before you grip firm at her soft, bare skin. She breaks the kiss as you do that, her breathy whine lets you know you're doing something right.

"Professor..." Hanni whispers to you, with lust on her tongue and in her eyes.

"Yes professor," Dani encourages. "She likes that. I like that."

Dani shifts behind you, pressing her lithe frame against you and wrapping her arms around your torso. She brings her hands down to your belt, clumsily trying to unbuckle it. Hanni slips her hands over your shoulders and tugs at your blazer. You shrug it off and then you slip off your tie, holding it in your hand.

Hanni whispers, "I have been naughty professor, staring at your cock during class." She brings her hand behind her ass, burying her fingers into the flesh. "Would you like to spank me?"

You bring your tie up to Hanni's neck, wrapping it around once, and then holding both ends in one hand. You twist the fabric around your fist, tightening the grip until you have full control of her. You pull your hand out the side, and Hanni fumbles and slides on the desk, knocking papers onto the floor. You have her where you want her—on all fours, side on, with her ass in the air.

You flip up her skirt, revealing her plump ass. The fabric of her panties pulled taut between her full cheeks. The skin begs to be marked.

Dani begs you to mark it. "Spank her sir," Dani whispers. "She's so bad. She needs a good spanking."

"Yes. I deserve it. Spank me, sir." Hanni hangs her head, submitting herself.

You pull tight on the tie, gently choking her, and then raise your other hand over her ass. You bring it down hard with a loud smack and Hanni hisses in pain. You only care to watch how the supple flesh gives way to your strike.

"Sir, I... I just—" Hanni loses her voice as you bring your hand down hard onto her again, giving her what Dani so eagerly begs for you to do. You lift your hand and deliver three hard, spanking strikes. Each time your hand comes crashing down on her ass, you pull on the tie and her body reels forward, and her hands scramble for purchase.

"Sir. I'm sorry. I was being naughty. Please, hurt me." With each hit, she apologises. But it's Dani's whimpered gasps that leave a warm stirring in your cock. This is getting her off as much as you. With all that bottled frustration inside you, the way Hanni writhes, and the eagerness from Dani, you really feel some kind of relief here. You give Hanni one more heavy spank, forcing an erotic whine of satisfaction from her that sends a twinge into your groin.

For all her fumbling, Dani finally springs your cock free from your underwear. She stays behind you, reaching her hands around to grab it. Her nimble fingers wrap around your stiff cock. As Hanni struggles to recover, you loosen the tie and Dani tries pumping up and down your shaft, stuttering in her awkward grip, and though somewhat sloppy, her youthful eagerness works its charm. And when Dani's delicate and feminine laughter tickles your ear with how much she's enjoying your cock, well, how can you complain?

You gently back away from the desk, pulling slightly at the tie like a leash and encouraging Hanni to follow you. You tug her upwards until she is back on her feet and then you lean into her ear, whispering, "on your knees."

She breaks out a soft whine, like a scolded dog being denied a toy. She shoots you back that puppy-dog expression, "but sir..." and you pull gently again on the tie. She drops to her knees, between you and the desk. "Well done. Good girls deserve rewards." You praise Hanni's obedience, but that grin on her lips means there is something deceitful buried in that submission.

Dani realises what's about to happen, stops rubbing your cock and steps to your side. She keeps one hand on it, guiding it as you step forward. Hanni's mouth falls open and her tongue wets her lips in anticipation.

Dani plays with your length against Hanni's lips. She rubs the tip of it up and down along the wet surface of her tongue. Hanni's nostrils flare and a warm breath flies over your wet tip as she gasps. She opens wide, waiting.

Dani hesitates, asking, "sir, I can't stop playing with it, it's so nice. May I lick it?"

"Let her lick it, sir," Hanni begs, keeping her mouth open, her pink tongue poking out. She adds: "Please."

"Let me taste your cock." Dani pleads and you nod to her, eyes sparkle, and her soft-painted lips part into a sweet smile.

Your tip rests tantalisingly against Hanni's lower lip. Her tongue occasionally brushes against it. Dani has dropped to her knees, leading with her tongue, and lapping a warm wet heat against your base and over your balls. Your tip pulses against the entrance of Hanni's mouth and you can feel the warm breath flowing over you again and again. Her breathing gets heavier, watching Dani work at your balls.

Hanni brings her lips together into a kiss, right on the tip. Another breathy kiss on the head, and then she drags her tongue along her lips, sticking it out and gliding her wet tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. You can't wait any longer. You push slightly and Dani realises, ducking out of the way so you can drive between Hanni's plump lips.

Both your hands find back of Hanni's head, your fingers getting knotted in her locks and your palms resting on her, and you slowly, gently, push her down on you.

You find a rhythm with your hips, slowly pumping into her lips. She relaxes into you, and she sucks and she laps her tongue against you. Dani watches in amazement. "How does she feel, professor?"

You grunt with satisfaction, affirming your pleasure with a moan and then Dani breaks back out into laughter, "I think she likes it too. Don't you Hanni?" Hanni nods as your slide in and out of her, but she never breaks the seal on your cock.

Dani continues teasing her friend, saying, "I think she likes sucking on it, I've always wanted to suck on professor's cock. I'm so jealous." Dani pulls open the buttons of her shirt. There's no bra underneath, and her perky little breasts are perfect. She slips her hand into her shirt to cup one of her little mounds. She brings two fingers into her mouth too, imitating Hanni. She wets two fingers with her lips and she then runs them over her plump nipple. Hanni hums around your cock, picking up on the encouragement.

"Dani." You grunt. For all your hesitation earlier, you're fully invested now and ready to bark your commands to your two playthings. "Get on my desk, spread for me." You add, "now." It's Hanni who flutters her eyes and pants a breathy moan around you, sounding her approval to your command. Dani, under your authority, obeys without question. She stands, climbs onto your table and perches her ass right in the centre and brings the heels of her feet up to the edge of the desk, either side of Hanni.

Dani pulls open her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders. Revealing maybe the tightest body you've ever seen. Her button-up shirts usually did a good job of covering how slender her body was, but there had been times before—times when she probably did it on purpose—when she had worn a tight shirt that showed you a little more. That's how you always knew she had a slutty little waist. But seeing it bare, now? In all its toned glory? It's enough to drive you insane. Then your eyes hit her cute, dainty tits. Her nipples, as perky as her personality.

"Do you like my tits, professor?" Dani asks. You don't answer, just shifting your eyesight between the lust her body calls for and your cock sliding into Hanni's throat. Dani protests your distraction and she cups her tiny tits and pinches her pointed nipples. "Hey. I'm showing you, sir, look."

Again, no words for her. Just keep indulging. Keep savouring it. Slide in and out. Fuck Hanni's mouth until her throat can't take any more.

Dani pouts and she leans back. She spreads her legs open, hiking her skirt up to show you those black panties, and then her fingers rub across the fabric. She demands your attention. She has it, of course, but the silence is a game. A power play you can't help. But she is getting frustrated, pushing the fabric of her underwear to one side and slipping her fingers against herself.

Her pussy is pretty and pink. Small, tight and nestled between her spread thighs. She pulls open her wet lips, and her chest heaves and she asks, "what about my pussy, professor? My tight little cunt?" Dani speaks to you in that bratty, spoiled tone, desperate for your attention.

Hanni slips her lips off you with a pop. She's desperately chasing her breath, gasping for air. She wraps her hand around your slick, shiny cock. The glistening is her own work. You catch her looking up at you, her mascara is a little runny—a wet splash of black around her eyes—and her hair sticks to her damp skin. Her eyes pierce right into your soul, and you can tell how pleased she is that you want her like this. She gently strokes your length. "He wants you Dani, I can see it in his eyes."

Dani brings up her other hand, sinking a finger inside herself. "I want his cock. I want your long hard cock professor. Inside me. Please. Please, use my little cunt."

You glance down at Hanni. Do you make her feel less special now? You have a hard time pulling yourself from her; you'd love to cum all over her face but Dani demands your attention. The thought that this tight little pussy might finally satiate your frustrations and longing gets the better of you. You bring a hand under Hanni’s chin and guide her to her feet, letting your tie hang loose around her neck. 

"I want you to watch. If you're good for me," you plant a soft kiss on Hanni's cheek, "then, after, I'll let you ride my cock."

"You promise?" Hanni gives you a wide-eyed and hopeful look.

You smile at her without a word, stepping past her and towards the spread and waiting Danielle. You place your hands on the inside of her thighs and you have to break out a smile when you feel her flesh burning under your touch. You pull her to the edge of the table until her ass is on the edge, and her body is ready for the taking.

You can't resist the feeling as you rub the swollen end of your cock between her folds. She whimpers, pushing her head back with each pass. "Professor." She whimpers. "Teach me. Teach me how to be a good little toy. I know my grades are bad but I'm gonna do better if you fill me with that big, hard cock of yours."

She's tighter than you ever could have imagined. Just the head and she's wincing. You groan back a similar whimper when the hot, clenching little cunt embraces the tip of your cock.

"Sir, I think you're too big for her." Hanni runs a hand through your hair.

"No!" Danielle refutes, instantly. "I can take it. I want it." She locks her stare with you, her defiance against her friend behind those watery eyes. Dani draws her bottom lip into her mouth as you draw deeper into her.

"How's it feel Dani?" Hanni asks, leaning over the desk by her side, before planting a few kisses to her exposed shoulders.

"Stretch—" Dani groans, struggling.

"Stretched by professor's big, hard dick." Hanni finishes the thought for her.

"Yeah," Dani manages as you push deeper.

Hanni is right there and is just too much to resist, bent over the desk with her skirt still pushed to her hips. Her red, swollen ass is on display. You can't even try to stop yourself. The glowing flesh taunting you.

You grab and you squeeze at her ass, digging your fingers into the wounded flesh. As Hanni is encouraging Dani, whispering soft words into her ear, you take a moment to spank her one more time. One heavy-handed slap against her ass and Hanni spits a grunt into Dani's ear.

There's not even a flinch as Dani's focus is on one thing only—you slowly fucking her tight cunt. You're driving your hips into her slowly, going deeper each time. Dani can't hold it in anymore, her soft mewling moans erupt into deeper, lustier vocalisations. Every gyration of her hips has a new feeling flowing into your cock. Hanni's hand snakes between the pair of you, finding her little clit and poking at it.

Dani collapses back against the desk and Hanni over her, tasting her body with soft kisses. It's back to her you shift your focus, slip her underwear off and let it fall to her ankles. You run your hand again over her stained flesh, this time driving towards her pussy as you do. That welcoming gap at the top of her thighs invites your fingers in. She is soaked. So beautifully aroused for you, and eager for the experience.

"Tell me how wet you are."

"Sir, I'm so wet," Hanni replies, punctuated by another giggle. "So wet for you, sir." She twists her head up and you run a finger over her pink slit, dipping the fingertip in and retrieving more wetness. She pushes back against your finger, desperate for you. So you curl two fingers into her and push deep into her heat.

"Yes. Fuck, yes." Hanni whimpers. A soft whine against Dani's skin.

With two girls beneath you now, them both whimpering in desperation, you pick up the pace and fuck harder into Dani. She braces her hands behind her against the table, hanging on. With the impact of your body crashing into her, her body shakes on the desk. Your thrusts cause Hanni's body to react too, you feel her pussy pulsing around your fingers and her soft whimpers slip into short, gasping breaths.

Your pelvis slaps into Dani's thighs over and over, and her legs tremble against you. Her elbows buckle. She fights a long and hard battle, but she's failing. "Sir. I'm gonna—" She can't even finish what she wants to say before her toes curl, her chest heaves, and she begins to tremble.

Hanni tells you the obvious between her hitched breaths, "she's cumming sir. Fuck, sir. You made Dani cum."

Dani lets go, she whimpers and moans with no shame and her body rides the wave of bliss. You slow and turn your attention to Hanni, breaking out your fingers. She quickly slips her hand behind and takes your fingers in hers, sliding them into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around them. You smile at her deviously. She smiles that innocent face back at you.

After a pause, Dani still squirming and spent beneath you, Hanni breaks from sucking on your fingers. "Can I ride your cock now, Sir?" She's so sweetly, sincerely, asking you for your permission.

Your tie still hangs loose over Hanni's neck, you reach for it and pull it taut once again. You step back, drawing your length out of Danielle and stepping back toward your chair. You're pulling Hanni along, giving her an answer unspoken. Hanni doesn't need any more persuasion than that. You tug slightly and she scrambles to her feet. As you're sitting, you give the tie another quick jerk, a playful little gesture and she tumbles to her knees once again.

"Sir..." she whispers, her eyes dark with a growing lust and burning hot with the rising urges. Hanni crawls towards you, stopping when she finds your thighs. Without hesitation, her fingers find your length. "I spent so many lectures watching you sitting here, just wishing I could play with your cock." She runs her hand up and down your length. You groan softly in response, encouraging her. "I would sit and stare. Did you ever notice?"

You smirk and think back. The thing is that you could never really tell. She was always staring as you taught, but it was never obvious that she was actually listening. Hanni never took notes; maybe the innocence in you just assumed she had a great memory. But the truth is so much more salacious than that. To think—to know—that all along this is what she had on her dirty little mind? Well, it's thrilling.

"Maybe," you play coy.

"These weeks have been excruciating. How could you make my pussy throb, and just ask me to sit and take notes? My hand was trembling and shaking, holding my pen, as I tried to come up with answers to your questions. The entire time I just kept hoping that you would drag me up here and have your way with me. You should have..." All the while she's been talking and unbuttoning her top fully then shrugging it off.

Hanni presses her chest forward against your shaft as she's perched over you, teasing you with the friction of her bra. "Hanni, all those short skirts you wore. Did you know that sometimes when I sat here I could see underneath them?" You can play this game too.

"Oh professor..." she giggles softly. "Do you know how wrong it is to look at your students like that?" For all this teasing on you checking her out, she still persists in undressing, unclasping her bra behind her and letting it fall to reveal her soft mounds. "Shame on you, professor." Hanni feigns a look of disgust that slowly melts into a beaming smile.

She strokes your length again, this time rubbing the tip of your cock, still stained in Dani's cum, against her nipples. "Do you remember last week, sir? When I had to get up and leave. I went to the bathroom and..." Hanni trails off, a little embarrassed. Your focus slips away and onto her delicate body, her perfect perky tits, and her gentle swaying movements as she pushes against you.

"You couldn't hold it in anymore. Could you Hanni?" She purses her lips and shakes her head slowly. "Tell me what you did."

"I ran into the bathroom, and slammed the stall door behind me." She guides your cock down between the soft pillows of her breasts. "And I leaned against the wall and slipped my hand inside my skirt and panties. And the throbbing was unbearable..." Hanni closes her eyes, moaning to herself as she tries to relive the moment in her mind. "I thought about you. Thought about doing this and..." she squeezes her breasts together, "and I came right there."

Dani slips off the table and comes towards you, perching on the arm of the chair. "She's not the only one, sir. Just last night I thought about you as I fucked my pillow." While Dani feeds you her fantasies, Hanni is still playing with your cock between her tits. It doesn't look like she ever wants to stop.

"Did you?" The slight hitch in your voice makes Dani's smile sparkle.

"Yes sir, and we're not the only girls who—"

Hanni shushes Dani with a quick scorn, and whatever confession she was about to make, Hanni stops her, "that's private Dani, don't go spoiling it for her."

Danielle laughs softly to herself. "Right, girls like secrets. Sorry, Sir, we can't say any more, but we will make it up to you, won't we Hanni?"

Hanni nods eagerly as she climbs up onto her feet. Danielle reaches over and pushes Hanni's skirt from her hips, leaving her finally, fully bare in front of you. You take a moment to admire while you can. You could bathe in the memory of Hanni, naked and brimming with desire.

It is the beauty of Hanni's body, yes, but even more, it's her gaze when she catches you admiring the sight. Such raw, unfiltered joy shines through her eyes. That is what gets you. The sweet, simple, pleasure she is enjoying is on display.

She steps over you and climbs onto your lap. She places both hands on your chest and leans into you. For a second you forget how to breathe; her face mere inches away from yours and those big, soulful eyes so dangerously deep. She kisses you softly, tender and careful. You're completely engulfed. Nothing else matters. Not the ungodly amount of work you have to do later tonight. Not tomorrow's damn tedious seminar session. Your focus now is Hanni and what she's about to do.

"Professor," she hums so sweetly in your ear, "I've been thinking about you all week. How much I want to ride your cock. Do you know how much I want it?" You slide your hands around her small, soft waist, grasping at the smooth surface of her back.

She holds your cock in one hand as she rises up on her knees, nestling herself over you. She looks you in the eye as she lowers onto you. You look back. You want to know what her reaction will be when you enter her. That is worth the wait.

There's that soft gasp. Tender. Breathless. Almost speechless.

"How does that feel?" Dani asks you, leaning into your ear, and kissing at the skin.

You go to speak. Your voice croaks and falters as Hanni begins to roll her hips into you. Soft, almost imperceptibly light bounces at first. You correct your voice, "fuck, perfect."

"Does my pussy feel good, professor?" Hanni's fucking you slowly, and you respond to her question by gripping tightly around her waist and pushing up hard into her. She holds your gaze as she begins to up her tempo. Flesh on flesh, clapping as you crash into each other. Hanni takes your hands in her own, guiding them to her breasts, placing her fingers on yours and gently squeezing her soft tits.

Dani is biting at your ear from behind, her hands running down over your body as she whispers into your ear, "do you like her tits professor?" Dani pulls your shirt open and her delicate fingers roll over your nipples. "They look so nice to touch. To grab. How do they feel?"

Warmth spills over you. You’re sitting there, letting Hanni—little innocent thing—ride you like an animal. Your cock feels snug inside her, tightly clenching around you. Dani is kissing at your neck and shoulders and Hanni is playing her little games.

"This is even better than I imagined, professor, but my legs..." She sucks in air through her teeth, struggling to continue as you penetrate her. "My legs need a rest. Will you put me on the desk?" Her soft voice, still so innocent despite what she's doing, somehow only thickens the lust.

You nod. You have no more words. Wrapping your hands around Hanni, you carry her, on your cock to the desk. Hanni slips back onto the desk and lets her head fall backwards. Eyes glued closed in total bliss. She mutters through a heaving breath, "you're fucking me. Fuck." Like she can't believe it's real.

You hook her legs, bringing them over your shoulders, resting the heels on you as you use the leverage to pump against her.

"Professor," Hanni's hands are tightly gripped onto your forearms, "are you going to cum inside me?" She opens her eyes just enough to let you know she's watching your response, a smile turning up the sides of her lips.

"Yeah." Dani can't help adding from your side, again touching your body. "Cum inside her professor. I think she needs it bad. Don't you?" Dani tilts her head at Hanni, questioning her.

"Yes. Give it to me professor." Her reply, direct, assured and daring, leaves no room for question.

Hanni's back arches and she groans again, this time with more hunger in her voice. "Please, professor. I want to feel you."

Your orgasm begins to stir inside you. Still, you restrain yourself, continuing to thrust into Hanni as she closes her eyes, pouting her lips and writhing under your control. It's the most magnificent thing to watch, how this once delicate and unassuming young woman is now transformed by lust.

"Look at me Hanni," you command her. Hanni's eyes slip open and meet yours. She whines softly as you drive into her. "I'm going to fucking cum inside you." You can hardly believe the words falling from your lips as you give Hanni the tainted energy of your thoughts.

Dani clings to your shoulder, encouraging you. "Don't stop professor. Please cum inside her."

It's at that point you have to wonder how long these two have been conspiring about this. All to culminate in this moment. This moment that fast approaches, about to crash into you in your inevitable—but long-awaited—release. Your breathing hikes, reaching a pinnacle, and the grip on Hanni's waist tightens. You bury yourself to the hilt as you slow to your final movements.

Hanni runs her hand through the strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Gripping herself as she feels it inside her. A pleasured smile on her radiating face. You're emptying into her. Everything you have. Your entire fucking self. You're pumping inside her and filling her up. You keep your eyes glued to hers.

"Oh, fuck yes, professor. He's cumming Dani." Hanni throws her head back against the table, shaking and trembling and slowly melting into euphoria. You drop her legs, pressing your hands on either side of her, just trying not to lose balance while waves of pleasure crash around your body.

Dani strokes at your back, caressing your shoulders with her delicate little fingers, giggling with appreciation. "If only you knew how long she has been waiting for you to do that." She gently pulls on your shoulders, drawing you out of Hanni and back towards your chair. Your whole body collapses into the leather.

Dani kneels by your feet, looking up at you, a smile that dances on her lips and delight in her glittering eyes. "Can I clean you off, professor?"

You have nothing left to give. A nod is the only thing you have strength for.

Dani's tongue laps against your cock—hot, wet, and hungry.

Hanni is still coming down from a high. Naked, used and breathless, she rises to her elbows and smiles mischievously.

You look down at Dani. Licking. Cleaning your spent cock. She's careful and caring with her touch and tongue. But the smirk tells it all—she wants to taste as much of you as you can offer. And she wants you hard again, ready to give to her as you did to Hanni.

In that silent understanding, there is another, too. You look back to Hanni, and you know in your gut that this isn't a one-off. Study hard—those were her words. Little studying happened, but there's more than one way to improve a grade. And if these girls want to be in your class next semester, and if you want them, then maybe a little extra credit wouldn't hurt.

Yeah, this is definitely not the end. Not for today, not for a long time.

A/N: Well I managed to cobble this together in just two days, and it's a bit of a throwback to my old style which feels right given it's two years since I first started. This one was just plain porn, but the next fic, folie a deux part 4, will have a lot more character work that I'm excited to share. Thanks for reading <3

[harmonictechnicality]

Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.

Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.

Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.

He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.

It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.

To Steve, it’s just a mess.

“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.

He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.

Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”

“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.

Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?

“There’s nothing but lost movements.”

Guess he is.

Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.

“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”

“They’re not?”

“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”

Steve points at the artwork.

“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”

The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.

“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.

The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”

It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.

“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.

The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.

“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.

Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”

The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”

This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.

But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.

They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.

Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.

And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.

These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.

These are the untold masterpieces.

“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.

“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”

“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”

Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.

“What did you say your name was?”

The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”

“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”

They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.

But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.

He’s close enough to do it.

“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.

The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.

“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”

Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.

Steve doesn’t change his mind.

He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.

It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.

Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”

Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”

Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”

He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.

Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.

He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”

Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:

“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”

[lost-and-ephemeral]

What would the LaD boys do if the reader was sick?

Imagine: Get Well Soon (ft. main trio)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: fluff, comfort, you are sick

A/N: as a person with really weak immune system i wish someone would take care of me too

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Zayne

"I'm prescribing bed rest for you for the next few days. No objections."

No matter how hard Zayne is trying to hide his concern for you behind a mask of indifference, you could still tell how he feels from his tone.

Either way, you're in the best possible hands.

Considering his job, he can't just leave everything and rush to you. He's got surgeries scheduled. But you can be sure he'll spend all his free time with you until you get better. And if you ask, he can lie down next to you.

He'll take care of cooking and will make sure you take your medicine on time. He may be a little strict with you, but that is only because Zayne really cares about you. You need cold compresses? Give him a minute. You're thirsty because of the fever? He's already brought you a glass of warm water. Hugs? Well, why not, since love is the best medicine.

Zayne is calm and collected, he knows exactly what needs to be done. So all you have to do is lie down and get well while he takes care of you and covers all your needs.

"Sleep. Your body needs to rest so it can recover faster. I'll be here."

Xavier

"It may not have turned out very tasty, but I really tried."

Poor Xavier, being very caring and sweet, is simply incompatible with cooking. Even when it comes to chicken soup. But he'll try for you this time.

Although you ended up agreeing on the fact that he'd just order delivery, rather than accidentally setting your kitchen on fire while trying to cook something else.

He'll try to take a couple days off to stay with you until you get better. Just so he doesn't have to worry about your health getting worse while he's on a mission.

He will make sure you have everything you need, especially a warm blanket. And if that blanket isn't enough, he can always keep you warm with his embrace. No, Xavier is not afraid of getting sick himself, he is confident in his immune system.

Most likely to fall asleep along with you at some point, cuddling you and resting his head on your chest. You will benefit from sleep, and he just needs it to recharge his energy. So it's a win-win.

"Just let me know if you need anything. Don't even hesitate to ask me."

Rafayel

"Don't worry, I won't let this teeny-weeny sickness stop us from spending time together. You'll get better soon under my care."

Rafayel sounds really confident, but he's actually worried. He just knows how to hide it well behind a thick layer of false self-confidence.

And he will never admit that he felt like a lost child for a minute.

Rafayel won't want to leave your side for a single minute and will make the coziest nest in the bed for you. Of course, someone has to go and buy some meds, because it's impossible to find any in the chaos of his studio, so that falls to Thomas.

Poor Thomas.

Luckily, he can cook quite well on his own, so you won't have any trouble with that. In any case, he can always order a delivery too.

Will spend as much time with you as you need and bring you whatever you want. Paintings can wait, he'll always be able to finish them on time. Besides, maybe he'll find inspiration from being with you.

Not afraid to get sick either, so he'll cuddle you 24/7, telling you that comes into his mind until you feel like sleeping.

"See? Told you I can take great care of you."

[bloodmoonmuses]

we're not really strangers | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, drabble (700 words), meditative prose, angst (?) inspired by the movie "all of us strangers" and mark's 'dirty smoothie' trailer for their upcoming album "dreamscape"

warnings: none!

summary: the love of your life, mark, appears out of thin air.

The edges of your vision are blurred with tears. You attempt to blink them back- to keep them at bay-  but they fall hastily as your pace quickens amidst the concrete jungle. You’re experiencing the type of vulnerability that can only exist before nine in the morning- when people ravage the polluted city, weaving in and out of the crowd as they hustle to work. You’ve missed your train, and now, in order to make it to the office on time, you’ll have to walk six blocks. The sky is abysmally gray, but it’s apt, you suppose. Your mind and body feels gray as well-  mushy, drab and bland in its quiet suffering. You curse your faulty alarm clock and rue the feeling of watching the train zip past right as you reach its closed doors. It’s enough to ruin your entire day. Probably your entire week. But nevertheless, the world moves onward. 

You jump into the mix, warm bodies making the sidewalk blush as they cross its mind. As a law-abiding citizen, you mind the traffic lights. When it says walk, you walk. When it says stop, you stop. There’s something comforting about being told what to do. Muscle memory pilots your pliant form. You come to a stop again, because the light tells you so. On the opposite side of the street, in the middle of about twenty or so people waiting to cross as well, you see a man with wired headphones nodding along to his music. In his hand is an iPod Touch. The light turns and suddenly, you’re passing one another. The man skips joyfully, taking big strides with his elegantly long legs. You make contact briefly, his shoulder brushing yours, before he disappears into the morning mist. 

When you return your attention ahead of you, there he is again, leaning against the crosswalk light. You look around in confusion. Had he not just crossed the street? Didn’t he just vanish into the chaos of his morning commute?

“What?” the man asks as you come to stand in front of him. “You’re staring.”

“I thought I just saw you-” your head whips around with such force, you’re afraid you’ve injured your neck. When you look behind you, the entire street is empty- everyone having evaporated without a single trace. 

The man is  wearing a corporate lanyard. His badge says Mark Lee. You’ve known him for a lifetime, suddenly.

“Hey. I said you’re staring.”

“What are you doing here, Mark?”

“Playing hooky with you, of course.” Mark grasps your freezing hand, encasing it in two of his own, and warms it with his breath. “Let’s get out of here. You’ll catch a cold.”

He walks you back to your apartment. You’re not sure how he knows how to get there. Or where he got a key from. He moves around your home with tenured expertise, blending into the domesticity as if he’d been a permanent fixture in it for many years. Years that have escaped you. Years, that when you look up one day, you realize have flown past you in a flash. He takes your favorite mug out of the cupboard, the one with glazed ladybugs painted on it.

“Mark,” you start.

“Shh. Don’t ruin it,” he says. 

“Ruin what?”

He makes you a cup of tea. Chamomile. Also your favorite. He places it wordlessly on your tiny dining room table, sitting across from you.

“This is the best idea I’ve had in a while,” Mark says. “I should skip work more often.” He leans over to kiss you, chastely, on the lips. He misses slightly, only capturing the corner of your mouth. He chuckles. 

“You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost,” whispers Mark, still only inches away from your face. You kiss his nose, and the feeling is so familiar that it almost calms you completely. Then you remember: there’s a stranger in your house.

“Do I know you?” you inquire, scared of ‘ruining it’. All you do is ruin things. For once, you’d like to get out of your own way. 

Mark simply nods. “Of course you do.”

He kisses you once more, then stands to retrieve his iPod. When he returns, he sits next to you this time, placing an earbud into your left ear and the other in his right. Mark presses play, and a song you don’t recognize fills your ears like water. Mark rests his head on your shoulder, draping you in his sodden affection. Your heart feels impossibly heavy. You hope he’s real. 

“I love you,” Mark says.

“I love you too.” 

a/n: thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated!

[choochooboss]

Submas sketchdump! Vol. 1

April-June 2022

Literally dumping all the presentable works as promised, whether I'm proud of them or not! This is where I started, even before the first thing I posted online (That subway station one). Many of these are not on Twitter yet so there's lots to see!

The top piece above the header is my very first digital Submas artwork!! I never finished it bc I didn't know how to pull my vision of as I wanted & started modeling the train and didn't finish that either, whoops! I really want to remake this later and make it super cool!

^^^ My reaction to breaking 500 likes & 100 followers in a single day with my first tweet (the battle subway one) all the way back in May!! I was completely floored by all the attention, oh how it skyrocketed my excitement and anxiety! Crazy times, I was so super nervous to be there with so many amazing artists and doubted if I could ever survive there ahahah!! Many had joined the community much much earlier than me, so I had arrived with a late train to PLA/neo Submas hype!

Next up is a bunch of stuff I haven't posted before:

One of my fav sketches! Been saving this for so long bc I really really want to finish this one day!

One of the first submas sketches with an actual story behind it! The subway bosses are running late for their flight because they didn't pass the safety check! The irony!! This would never happen as bosses are always on schedule. But Emmet hadn't noticed a wild Joltik hiding under his coat, so he set up the alarm and they got examined and interrogated of smuggling! How embarrassing for them! The bosses resolved the situation by catching the Joltik, but will they be able to catch their flight anymore?? Maybe if Elesa can distract the stuerts performing the safety protocol for a minute!

More sketchbook stuff...

In case you can't make any sense of it, Emmet's dreaming of different combinations of pokémon. Meanwhile Ingo snores louder than the train! HONK SHOO!

Top 7 every submas fan draws at some point!

Submas trademark posing

submas sleeping in a train

sad Emmet

Emmet with Joltik

Ingo with a cool solo pose

Emmet being chaotic & Ingo reacting to it

a bunch of mirrored submas poses

I sure have a full bingo card lmao, most of them you can see here XD

Next up is a sad man...

Stay strong our friends!

My typical sketchbook pages, crammed and messy as usual. x)

Post-PLA exploration:

A few examples of how my pencil sketches evolve.

I've done so much art experimenting with submas. I really like this black & white painting but I don't think I'll finish it anytime soon.

Where did you go?

The way I draw the twins' faces has changed a lot. They started with softer features and somewhat neutral emotions, because I wasn't as familiar with them or comfortable drawing them yet. Now there's hundreds of submas sketches, and they still keep evolving! My style is also kinda hard to pull off well, so their features differ from picture to picture.

This one was inspired by some submas music videos, can't recall their names anymore. The glowing eerie eyes and yellow&orange + black&white color schemes were neat!

I keep telling myself I need to draw more butlers, these twinks look so lean and neat and have more color and are posh with their monocles and have fun tailcoats!

(...why eyeglasses are not called binocles??)

I was there for the vinegar chaos. Good times!

That's all for now, I hope you got something fun out of this! Still got loads more art to share but I'll save them for another time. Next round I'll bring in my first submas comic!

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on. 

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards. 

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us. 

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels. 

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass. 

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick. 

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail. 

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered. 

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down. 

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back. 

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette. 

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering. 

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her. 

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.  

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open. 

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy. 

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand. 

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger. 

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident. 

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission. 

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while. 

There. You finally saw it. 

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest. 

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby. 

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude. 

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?” 

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away. 

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin. 

He was watching you. 

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd. 

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target. 

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team. 

“He’s here.” 

Annie was no longer backstage. 

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm. 

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room. 

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard. 

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine. 

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much. 

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept. 

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular. 

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous. 

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm. 

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you. 

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking. 

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room. 

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you. 

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand. 

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides. 

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips. 

Show time, you told yourself. 

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger. 

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table. 

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment. 

And distracted, for as long as he let you. 

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile. 

“Want a drink?” he asked. 

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early. 

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage. 

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down. 

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow. 

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh. 

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk. 

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips. 

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger. 

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze. 

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin. 

“Depends,” you said coyly. 

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him. 

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish. 

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied. 

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer. 

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap. 

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one. 

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile. 

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed. 

Yes, if you were honest with yourself. 

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance. 

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair. 

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back. 

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand… 

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks. 

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath. 

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk. 

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin. 

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were. 

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust. 

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.” 

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant. 

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you. 

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now. 

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun. 

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell. 

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.” 

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient. 

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.” 

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?” 

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer. 

“All right,” he shrugged. 

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand. 

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy. 

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up. 

You knew what came next. 

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns. 

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin. 

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard. 

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup. 

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed. 

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump. 

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist. 

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again. 

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop. 

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage. 

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car. 

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume. 

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were. 

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house. 

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you. 

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie. 

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.  

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you. 

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

[scarasimping]

- your birthday with scaramouche

- a/n: i saw scara's birthday voice line and was inspired plz i love him so much. i wrote this very late so sorry if theres any mistakes. but i pulled c1 scara tomight and got his weapon so im very excited !! may all scara wanters be scara havers.

- fluff fluff so much fluff, kinda pining from both sides

"take my hand."

if any sane person were to be offered the hand of the wanderer, they would most definitely say no. after all, the amount of atrocities he's committed was too many to be counted on both hands, and even though he may have left the fatui he's still not the most trustworthy type.

"there's no need to be nervous," he says, but with him staring directly into your soul it's hard not to be.

today was your birthday, your friends in sumeru had thrown you a lavish party with cake and music and a special performance by nilou herself at the grand bazaar. though it was very fun, indeed, anyone would need a break after something as exciting as that, so you decided to step out into the streets of sumeru for some air.

it was here that the wanderer, or scaramouche, emerged from the alleys, offering his hand to you with the most innocent smile he can muster on his face.

"I'm just taking you to vantage point. isn't that a normal birthday activity?"

reluctantly, you place your hand in his outstretched one and he grips it tight, beginning to lead you down the many winding streets of sumeru city. his hand, despite it being cold, spread a warmth through your body. it was late in the afternoon, the sun would be setting soon, and you had to admit that in this lighting he did look quite pretty, though you'd never say that out loud.

he seemed to sense your gaze on him, sparing a glance behind him quickly.

"stop staring at me."

it was a somewhat long walk, but where you ended up was on the balcony in front of the sanctuary of suransthana. finally, he released you hand here while you wandered towards the railing, staring at the sight in front of you.

in the time it took for you to get here, the sun had begun to set over the horizon, painting a pinkish hue over the vast lands of the deserts and forests of sumeru while the branches of the great tree framed the sight perfectly. scaramouche found himself mimicking you, with his hands on the railing, almost touching your own, the only distance between your bodies caused by his hat.

"how is it?" he asks, cocking his head towards you. a smug smile laid on his face as if he already knew your answer. "the scenery here should be quite breathtaking."

"it is, very much so," you whisper back, too in awe of the view in front of you to notice just how much he's staring at you.

you, still in your party outfit, hair blowing in the breeze that comes from being so high up, the light gracing your features. while scaramouche has never been one to appreciate the sights before, he can still admit you do look quite nice in this very moment.

still staring ahead of you, you begin to speak once again. "thank you, really, this means a lot to me."

"there's no need to thank me - i see little point in it," he sighs, eyes leaving you for the first time since you got up here.

"this really isn't much to be thanked for, especially compared to the party thrown in you honor."

he sounds disinterested saying this, you almost thought bringing you up here was something he was forced to do, but the fact that he can't meet your eyes tells you otherwise.

"i don't care about how much someone has done for me on my birthday, all the matters is that i spend time with them. like right now, for example."

it's silent for a few seconds, your words processing in his mind.

"i understand," he hums, and he truly thinks he does, because he wouldn't mind coming up here again to spend some time with you in the future.

[sweet-dreams-internal-screams]

Camp Counselor Ethan Hcs🤭

HES SO POOKIE UGH I CANNOT

Warnings ⚠️ swearing, drinking, suggestive comments, no gf, children 👎🏾 fem!reader

This man LOVES being a counselor and as his s/o he ropes you and everyone else into helping that following summer

He’s in charge of the shyer kids because they feel more comfortable with him (and he used to be one)

Chad and Ethan’s cabins are right next to each other and if he’s not with you he’s with Chad (since he isn’t so hellbent on stabbing Chad)

LOVES TUG OF WAR WITH CHADS CABIN gets slightly over competitive

He’s making sure his cabin is going ALL out for color wars

Unfortunately you guys are on opposite sides of the camp and it’s not a long walk but being so far🙄 makes him touch starved and horny

He doesn’t know it until you or Mindy says something but all the 12 year old girls have the biggest crushes on him but he’s so unaware of it. (This would’ve been me at camp lolz)

When you guys tell him he gets beet red in shock.

When it’s arts and crafts time he always makes sure his group is sitting next yours

when he notices one of his campers crushing on yours he takes upon himself to help the little fella out (he also uses it to spend time with you)

He likes most of the other counselors

Especially if they swapped with him so you two could spend time together

But he really just likes hanging with the kids and listening to their stories

“.And Tommy started talking about his hot wheel collection and apparently he’s got this collection of rare ones”

Also LOVES camper drama

Him and Annika love debriefing each other

Campers are very shocked when they learn you two are dating (this is early in the summer)

WHEN HE DOES A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET DEMO HE PUTS IT ON YOU AWWW

When the campers see the look he gives you as you get off lifeguard duty or lake time with your girls

They try harder to push you two together but when you guys realize you just play into it

“ yeah girls you’re right Ethan is kindaaaa cute”

“Idk guys I DO think Y/n/n is very pretty”

When you guys do canoeing he’s always your partner

“ETH BABE YOURE GONNA FLIP US” (this is how they “figure” it out)

“Yeah Counselor Y/N called Ethan BABE”

The campers love the two of you

But mainly him- he’s always getting small drawings or projects from kids and he always keeps them

LOVES leading nature courses and talking about bugs

This man LOVES S’mores probably his favorite treat (he’s definitely the type to burn the marshmallow) that’s actually me self projecting lolz

Okay suggestive/NSFW warning

He’s obviously a guy and going a WHOLE two months is a lot and seeing you gets him riled up regardless

Those looks during Lifeguard duty weren’t sweet loving ones (they were but also 😈 lol)

He loves seeing you tan with your girls and lies down in front of you if it’s a lake and lays on his stomach so he can get a “good view of the campers” good view of your chest

During Counselor Night he keeps you on his lap by the bonfire while you both sip on Alcohol that was snuck in

You guys sneak off and fuck in the woods GOODBYE

he brought a blanket incase he got lucky

He got lucky and thank goodness because he would’ve exploded

Cannot help staring if you’re wearing shorts

And Chad teases him about this (but then Tara walks by)

Get jealous if other counselors flirt with you this may or may not lead to steamy makeouts behind trees

One morning he surprised you on the cabin porch for a makeout session and accidentally moaned too loud causing some of your campers to wake up (he pulled away in time but was hurt his noises cut your time short)

If you guys sneak off during Color wars a nosy camper HAS to ask why there’s red face paint on him and blue on you

Chad and Ethan smoke behind their Cabins at night and talk about you and Tara

Loves doing physical labor near you so you get riled up as much a he is

A/N: I feel like I wrote too much lol but hope you like Pt.2?

Also this is inspired by Murdrdocs go check theirs out!!

Also please request I’m so bored when I’m not writing

[strawberryspence]

this is PLATONIC. love can be platonic. and that’s what this is. if i see anything non-platonic stobin tagged in my rbs, i will delete this.

this is inspired of that quote from dolly alderton, “nearly everything i’ve known about love i’ve learned in my long time friendships with women.” i said the word love so many times, it’s not real anymore.

anw, happy stobin month. their friendship means so much to me. so here’s something sappy.🍦

-

“What is love?” El asks him, with that bright eye curiosity that makes her— that makes her the best of them all in more ways than one.

Steve blinks at her, dropping the whisk he’s holding and thinks.

What is love?

It’s easy.

Steve smiles to himself as he thinks of a time where he would have floundered for an answer, searched for it in the empty corners of his heart and home, in the unblinking red light on the voice machine; waiting for something, anything.

Nearly everything Steve Harrington knows about love he has learned from Robin Buckley.

First, Steve learns how to fall in love with the most unlikely person in the crowd. Robin was, and will always be a better person than him. From her, he learns how to fall in love, admit it, and accept the fact that it won’t always get reciprocated. That’s okay, because in exchange of that rejection, would be something better than he could ever imagine.

Love is a friend. A real friend.

Second, Steve learns that love— is love. It isn’t something meant to be put into a box, it isn’t just one thing. It’s not just girls for boys, or boys for girls. It’s for everyone, it’s for anything your heart wants.

And when he finally came to the realization that he didn’t fit that box too, Robin held him for hours. Assured him that it’s okay, that if that’s who he is, she will still love him because of it, never despite it.

Love is being true to yourself. It’s freedom while being held by your person.

Third, Steve learns that love can be quiet. It’s not always hiding under the covers as your parents fight from across the room, it’s not loud pounding music as the love of your life tells you that you’re bullshit.

It can be found in quiet afternoons, while reading a book with your best friend. It can be found in quiet evenings, as you both try to paint in silence. It was sitting, in a field behind a stolen RV, making molotovs in silence, both terrified they’d be dead tomorrow. It can be found in the middle of the night, after a terrifying, too real nightmare, just bundled together holding each other's hand.

Love is quiet. It’s peaceful and content, even when its hard.

Fourth, Steve learns that love— the real one— doesn’t have an expiration date. He once thought that it’s always been like that, that for him it’s always been meant to be like that. There is an end date. That one day day everyone he loves will realize what he truly is… bullshit. Like when his parents started to learn that he was too much, and too little of what they want and needed, they started leaving more often or when Nancy realized she deserved someone better, it’s over.

Maybe, he’s still waiting for the day when Robin finally realizes that she’s so much better than him, that she could find someone better, that Steve can’t really be her platonic soulmate. Because soulmates— God— they’re two halves of one whole. But how could he ever live up to that? He doesn’t think he could ever, not when Robin’s got all the good parts when they were split into half.

But there’s an unspoken trust. A tiny voice in Steve’s head that tells him, above all the noise and self loathing, a voice that sounds so similar to Robin’s says, “Robin won’t do that to you. Not ever.”

He holds onto that voice, clutches at it with shaking hands.

Love is… Love is there. And you will pray, and hope, and beg that it never leaves. But love is also trust, so you hold on with that blind faith.

Fifth, Steve learns that the best love— it’s in the in betweens.

Love is when Steve’s having the worst migraine, so Robin cleans the store for him instead. It’s when his best friend got him a brownie, because she thought he’d like it. It’s when his bestfriend brushed his hair after a rough night, even if it’s drenched in sweat and tears. It’s the scar in his thumb from when the vodka bottle broke as they made molotovs. It’s when she finally snaps and locks him and Eddie in the pantry so they can talk about their feelings. It’s her weirdly proud smile when she opens the pantry, and they’re making out like their lives depended on it.

It’s popcorn stuck in between the couch from movie nights. It’s paint stains in his favorite blue jeans from the one night they painted his room. It’s the chip on the plate when they were eating and she chipped it from laughing so hard. It’s that old post note on the fridge that says, “Got you milk, Dingus!” that he never removed.

Steve Harrington has learned of love from everyone. From Dustin, to Max, to Eddie, to the rest of the kids. Even Hopper and Joyce, from Nancy and Jonathan. In some ways, he’s learned from his parents too.

It’s all different.

But in his core. In his truest core, in his deepest soul.

It’s all from Robin Buckley.

El is still looking at him, with a fond smile, like she can see the montage playing in his head. You know what? Maybe she does see it.

“What is love?” Steve repeats her question.

El hums, nodding.

“Love is a U.S.S Butterscotch Sundae.”

El giggles at his answer as Steve winks at her.

Steve turns to the open window above the sink. There’s laughter coming from the yard, where the kids are playing in the pool. Eddie’s reading Nancy a book, as Jonathan and Argyle lounge around.

Steve meets Robin’s eyes, and she smiles at him, raises a hand to wave at him.

Steve waves back at love personified.

(In Steve’s room, there’s an old recipe book. Given to him by his Grandmother, it’s filled with different recipes, some 50 years older than him, some newer. There’s a piece of paper tucked in between the pages, with a blue and white border and a little sailor hat. It’s stained from use and dirt. It’s not old, it’s not new, it’s from two summers ago. It’s a handwritten recipe with a note at the bottom.

Harrington,

I wrote this down because you kept forgetting the freaking recipe for the USS butterscotch sundae. Keep it with you, you dingus.

Buckley.)

[ccrites]

i've been thinking of getting a tattoo for a long time, not only because i want to, but also to cover an old stick'n'poke i got when i was 15.

and so it got me thinking of the 141 tattoo artist!au. and oh boy.

Kyle would be an absolute sweetheart. not judging the stupid decisions a teenager made. more like "you wanted a tattoo and you went out of your way to get it, that's awesome. now how about we enhance it instead of covering it, whaddya think pretty girl?" and he'd draw around it, incorporate it into his art, go over the parts that are faded and uneven, then, when he's finished, wipe it gently and go "there, what should've been your first real tattoo" with his blinding smile and a promise to also be the one to do your next one

Johnny would be excited about finding creative ways to make parts of the stick'n'poke incorporate into other elements, make it so you'd never know it was there. but he's also a bit of a freak! making sort of mean comments about, "such a stupid decision, you were but a wee lass and ye didn't know what you wanted! thank god Johnny's here ta' fix ya'". It doesn't help that the tattoo you got was somewhere hidden, somewhere your parents wouldn't see on summer vacation (think where your underwear would cover it, or under your bra straps!) and he'd be such a creep! Sitting closer than absolutely necessary, looking at you too intensely. At the end, he'd suggest a truly hidden tattoo, "Only for me to see, bun, whaddya say?"

Ghost would be the type to frown behind the mask and look at you meanly, and you're afraid that he'd judge you for doing this kind of thing (you had your reasons, okay? some rough period in your life, you needed catharsis, and you were too young to get a real tattoo) and he'd be really condescending, all "there's a reasons youngins can't get them. Cuz' it's a stupid decision to make." and he'd huff and draw the most exquisite art you'd seen, all black, bold lines, and way, way bigger than necessary to cover the small tattoo. If the tattoo was on your hip, he'd extend it from your waist all the way down to your knee, make it flow with your curves, accentuate the stretch marks, and you can't say no because you absolutely adore the style. if the tattoo was on your ribs (bra straps, remember?" he'd extend it under your tits, bring it back over the clavicle, make it to be seen. and the pain. oh the pain. "you said you wanted catharsis, right?"

John would absolutely be on Ghost's side, with "there's a reason they don't let kids get tattoos" and you hear the underlying what a fucking mistake, and you see how he judges you... it makes you want to get it from him the most. Until you get to the consultation, and he tells you to get it lasered off first. But it's so faded, it should be easy to cover, no? you argue. he won't budge. So you get the expensive laser. it sorta hurts mentally, because you got it done with your best friend, and you always assumed you'd keep it there, underneath another layer of ink, where only you would remember it. It takes a few sessions, but then the skin is clean, a blank canvas for John to paint on. and paint he does. it's the most gorgeous piece you could ever imagine, you can see the inspiration Ghost draws from him, all bold shapes that flow into each other and compliment your body. Your skin is raw and pink when he's done, and you get up to admire the work... until you get a closer look in the mirror. you know exactly where the old tattoo would've been, and you'd expected to not be able to place it, under the new art. in its stead, two letters, black, bold, beautifully intertwined.... J.P. ... He'd put his lips next to your ear as you stand in shocked silence. "You're my canvas now."

[noellefan101]

Bakery Love

Genshin impact, modern baker au, reader´s family owns(and works at) a bakery + reader works there, gn!reader

characters: Tighnari, Albedo, Kazuha, Cyno, Nilou, Xiao x gn!reader

Warnings: kissing, baking(duh), romantic relationship (+ planoinic in some but not with the main), kissing, , tell me if i missed anything

Note: I'm sorry if there´s any mistakes, english is not my first language and this is not prof-read yeah enjoy ;) and it feels so weird to write for Nilou when the rest is men, i didn´t think abt that. luv you all, mwah ;)

Tighnari

i feel like he would be there to get a birthday cake for Collei, (im sorry it just sounds too cute) and you were at the front desk in your apron talking to a customer, when he walked in and ordered. you looked at him, asked what he would like and wrote a note down so you could remember - he ordered a "healthy" cake with green frosting on one side and red on the other with Cuilein anbars on the green side and baron bunnies on the red side. and then he also leaves his number woth the order bc he thinks your cute so you start to become friends. anyway, thats how you met onto when you start dating

you would come over to his house after your shift, or when you both have time, and bring him some baked goods for him and Collei/i feel like they would live together in a modern au, like Tighnari would still be her caretaker, just like in the game/. you and Tighnari would definitely bake together, and you would teach him how to bake certain pastries and stuff, and Collei/+Cyno maybe/could join if they wanted to (it would be so cute wtf). i also think he would be like a florist or smt, like he owns a flower shop, so he would bring you flowers or just plants in general. so the bakery would have a lot of plants that he´s given you. and your family (lovingly) hates him because where tf are they gonna put all these fricking flowers and stuff he gets you every week. tho their happy for you and they also got free decor for the bakery so they don´t really complain.

to him you´re like a rose, beautiful, even if sometimes you sting, he adores you just as much

Albedo

he was just there to study at first, maybe get some coffee and a piece of cake, when he saw you behind the counter he kinda.. uhm.. fell in love at first sight, yeah... anyway now/because of your beauty/he is there studying more often or when you´re there to be exact. your sibling or parent called it out but you denied it and didn´t think much of it. and then he finally asked for your number

when you finally start dating, he would still study at your bakery but it´ll be a little more often. and not only on your shifts but on other family members too, mainly bc he wants to get to know them better. he also brings his little sister, Klee, with him more often so she can meet you and your family + see the bakery. he also would make some artificial things for you, like flowers and stuff, you could either put in your room or around the bakery. yk the flower he makes in his idol or whatever its called, so like one of those or just anything you want really. he could also paint there, but he´ll just start painting you and he doesn´t want other people to think he´s stalking you.

to him you´re like a painting, pretty in many ways, and perfect in his eyes

Kazuha

he would visit the bakery once in a while, finding it relaxing to be there and finding great inspiration for his poems and stories. and something he has noticed is the beautiful person that is sometimes behind the corner/you hehe/and starts to slowly become his muse. he couldn´t help it its like keeping a secret from someone, but sharing it with the world at the same time. he finds himself going to the same place over and over again, only wanting to see your face one more time. (wtf happened to me) while he was unknowingly falling in love with this new muse, you were falling for him. (ok i need to fricking stop, omg)

when you two finally started dating, he still kept you as his muse, but this time you were both aware and laughed a little together because of it. anyway he would be there even more to just sit and write about something, then later in the day/or week if you both were busy/he would read them out to you. and at some point you would start giving him notebooks every few months just so he could write his poetry on something other than the tissues from the bakery(omg that would be so cute and hilarious at the same time). in return he would gift you your favorite flowers and try and learn to bake, even tho its not perfect he tries and you love it. sometimes you´ll bake something with him and teach him properly how to do something/or do it the way your family does it/and then after you eat it together.

to him you're a miracle, your his love, his life, and his muse, he doesn´t know what to do without you now

Cyno

he´s a policeman (the hot kind) and there was an incident with your neighbor bc their store got robbed/in my mind it's a jewelry store but let your mind go wherever/so you got a few questions since you were on your shift at the time they came in. but you then after went into the back/your home to get your parents. and then after he started showing up more both because of the situation but also because he generally liked your pastries and cakes. even after the case ended he still came over on a lot of all of his breaks, maybe it was sometimes to see you but you ofc didn´t need to know that ;)

so when you guys started dating, he would ofc still come over but also look out for you, your family, and the bakery. also in his free time/even tho its not often/he would "help" you with baking. aka your teaching him how to bake bc he can´t for the life of him, but he brags to his friends abt it "cough". anyway, he would love to try some new recipes you find online or in your family cookbook, and help as much as he can. if you made him some pastries for him to take with him to work, he would fall even more `head over heels` in love with you, seriously do it. he would definitely stop anybody that tries to steal anything from the bakery, and get them arrested immediately.

to him your love is like a drug, addicting, but even if he knows it he will still love you for eternity

Nilou

yk the cake she eats in game, that would definitely be the reason you two met. like it would be in the bakery´s window or smt and she would order that with a smile, while you where on your shift ofc. and she would get all exited and stuff. + she thinks the way you and your family make it is much better, so she´s basically a reguler bc she orders at your bakery so often. and then she starts to fall in love with one of the bakers there (you), and so she tries to find out when your shift is and stuff. (my brain couldn´t stop sry, that was a lot)

anyways, when you start dating she would definitely want to try and learn the recipe and bake it with you, but ofc she needs practice so she´ll eat your portion at the start, but you can´t complain you´ve literally done this your whole life ofc you´re better. she´d also want to meet your family early on bc you told her about some baking days when you test new recipes and stuff, so she´d be the taste tester and give tips if she could. aand you would give her discounts for some kisses. she would also dance in the bakery, with you and your family´s content ofc, so she could attract customers with her beautiful dancing.

to her you´re like cake, has many flavors, not all perfect but to her you are too perfect to enjoy only once

Xiao

i see him getting dragged there by some friends/yk aether, venti, kazuha, heizou and then scara is getting dragged there too. so basically 6rezze(sry if thats wrong) or 5wirl, but they aren´t famous/and they drag him to your bakery. bc they wanted to try the cakes and stuff. and your the one behind the counter(idk if thats a good thing or not, but ig it was?). and so you had to deal with some boys yelling at each other while one of them was completely silent/xiao/he just ordered and explained what the rest/but not for heizou, kazuha cuz i feel like they would already have ordered/you just got the pastries and cakes they ordered, and they then sat down seeming to calm down.

after you started dating he wouldn´t come to the bakery often, but he´ll definitely come over like once a week/before was like once or twice a month/and he won´t order much but is just there to support you. otherwise, if he comes to the bakery he´ll just go straight to the back to see you/they know who he is ofc, but for first-time workers that might be weird/and he would be a little sad if you were too busy to give him attention. if you give him some non-sweet cake or pastries he´ll love you even more(i swear thats impossible). he´ll also feed you, and let you feed him in return. if you want him to learn how to bake he´ll do it, but only if you teach him ofc. so there you are in your kitchen with xiao, trying to teach him to bake the non-sweet cake he likes.

you´re like the cakes you make, sweet, although he doesn´t normally like sweet things, he loves you more than anything else

Author: the sweet things at the end of each one, omg how tf did i come with those aaaaahhhh i´m freaking out right now. also if you want me to do more of these pls tell me + the characters you want in it.

thank you for reading, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody liking my posts

[mahs-dumpster]

"Happy 100th anniversary"

a/n: this is soooo self indulgent please. It's a vignette (written only in dialogue) for Daisy's (my Yuu) birthday jacket card that I just made! I'll be linking it here once I edit this post!

cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy; they're established to be in a relationship and Daisy has already made her decision to stay in twisted wonderland); dialogue heavy; poor attemps at making this look like a fake translation from a vignette bc I'm delulu

The template for the frames of the paintings can be found here.

Words: around 1k

Happy birthday, Daisy!!

Daisy: To think I'm able to visit a museum like this! I wonder what sort of paintings I'm going to see…

Daisy: I'm expecting to maybe recognize a few from the stories mom used to read to me… let's see if I actually can recognize them!

Daisy: I wonder… is she someone I'm aware of? A lady who constantly cleans her house…

???: That's the princess who inspired the glass slippers you always wear.

Daisy: Huh? Oh, Ruggie! I thought you were all the way on the other side of the museum! 

Ruggie: I was, but then I met Trey and we kinda ended up wandering around until I got here. 

Ruggie: What a coincidence that I found you looking at the painting of the lady who inspired your favorite shoes, shishishi~

Daisy: I guess it is a fun coincidence. Oh, right! Would you mind explaining more about her to me?

Ruggie: Fine! But don't go walking around telling people I've gone soft…

Daisy: No need to worry, I wouldn't even dream of it. 

Ruggie: *sigh* anyway… This lady is the princess that inspired your shoes, do you know the story behind it?

Daisy: Sam only explained to me that the princess who wore them danced with them until midnight… so I guess I don't know much more than that.

Ruggie: Right. Legend says she was an orphan who was forced by her stepmother to become basically a servant.

Ruggie: She cleaned the house all day everyday, was forced to hear awful things by her step family and when she wanted to go to a ball her stepsisters tore down her dress. 

Ruggie: A Fairy Godmother – well, her Fairy Godmother – decided to help her get to a ball, she gave her a gown, a carriage and everything! 

Ruggie: the Prince fell in love with her almost immediately and when she ran away and left her glass slipper fall, he tried it on every lady in the kingdom to find out who his beloved was. Then they got married and she never saw her family again.

Daisy: That’s basically the story of Cendrillon. 

Ruggie: What? Oh– one of the fairytales from your world?

Daisy: Yes. I’ve always admired her story, I reread it a lot growing up because I related to her. 

Ruggie: Ah… you did say your stepmother treated you horribly.

Daisy: She… treated me as best as she could.

Ruggie: Which wasn't anywhere near good enough. 

Daisy: Haha… I guess you're right. 

Daisy: What I mean is just… she treated me badly, but I don't hold grudges. 

Daisy: Whatever she's doing, I forgive her. And now that I'm somewhere better and living a happier life… I hope that her and her children manage to grow as people.

Daisy: That's what my mother taught me. 

Ruggie: …sometimes I really do wonder how I fell for such a goody-goody.

Daisy: W-what’s that supposed to mean?

Ruggie: I’m just saying, you're way too naive and nice to forgive someone like that.

Ruggie: if it were me, I’d never forgive them. No way someone's gonna step all over me and I'll forgive them.

Daisy: because that's exactly what you did to Leona-senpai, huh?

Ruggie: besides the point. 

Daisy: Ruggie, isn't this painting depicting that story you told me about? The ones about the dogs sharing spaghetti?

Ruggie: Oh, that one, yeah! I didn't know they actually painted the scene, who would've thought.

Daisy: They're so adorable, I see now how romantic this is.

Ruggie: I guess? It's still just spaghetti…not only that but it's outside in the middle of the night. I guess for dogs it would be cool but for people? I’d honestly just be excited because it's free food.

Daisy: Oh, come on now! This is super romantic! It's a candlelight dinner under the night sky! 

Daisy: If someone did that for me, I know I’d be pretty happy and satisfied.

Ruggie: You’re just trying to convince me to ask you on a date, aren't you?

Daisy: …

Ruggie: Should’ve figured, shishishi!

Daisy: You can't blame a girl for trying, I’ve been pretty lonely these past few weeks since you’ve been working more than usual.

Daisy: But jokes aside, this right here is already enough. I’m already way less lonely just by walking around this museum with you, it's practically a date!

Ruggie: I don't think a date would consist of everyone from our school coming with us…

Daisy: You get what I mean…

Ruggie: Tell you what, once we get back I’m cooking us both some spaghetti and lighting some candles if that's what you’d like.

Ruggie: If my flower is feeling lonely then I better give her a proper date so she can feel loved, right?

Daisy: You really don't have to… but thanks. I would love to. 

Ruggie: Ah, this one's actually a very famous painting, I’ve seen pictures of it around quite often.

Daisy: R-Really…?

Ruggie: What? You don't believe me?

Ruggie: It ties with Sunset Savannah’s history and with The King of Beasts’s story! 

Daisy: Well, forgive me for not understanding the historical significance of a monkey holding a lion cub…

Ruggie: *sigh* Alright. Lemme explain.

Ruggie: This is a ceremony often done by members of royalty when a new child from the royal family is born. 

Ruggie: It goes so far back even the lions from The King of Beasts’s story did that. They basically present the baby to everyone else in the kingdom… it's kinda hard to explain.

Daisy: Oh, I get it now!

Daisy: I see why it's so famous, seeing how it portrays an aspect of the royalty of Sunset Savannah. 

Ruggie: Eh… I never went to one, as you can imagine.

Daisy: Never? Is it not open to the common folk?

Ruggie: Well yeah, but back when there was one for who I now know is Leona-san's nephew, I was trying to survive.

Ruggie: I didn't have the time to go to a ceremony just to watch a new baby I didn't care about being presented to the whole kingdom.

Ruggie: I’d learn about him regardless, so I just didn't care much.

Daisy: I guess that makes sense.

Daisy: Still, it must be super interesting to see it happening. How cute would it be to see a baby cub being shown to the entire world just like that, hahah! 

Ruggie: Ah– sorry, before I got here I told Leona-san I’d go fetch something for him at the cafeteria in a few minutes… if I don't go now he’s gonna be pissed.

Daisy: Why didn't you tell me sooner?!

Ruggie: Well, ya know– it's impossible to resist spending time with you~

Daisy: Alright there, Romeo, enough! Go before he gets upset. I'll be looking around this area for a while more if you want to come back.

Ruggie: *sigh* ‘kay, I'll be off then! 

Daisy: Hm? Ah, this is another painting of Cendrillon.

Daisy: She looks so much free... I'm happy she got her happy ending.

[amive2567]

Ingredients: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader ; Izuku Midoriya x fem!Reader ; Shoto Todoroki x fem!Reader

Contains: nail polish, some bad humor, the overusage of the word look, not proof-read

Type of order: hot chocolate (fluff), a tiny crazy Milkshake (crack/humor), Macarons (headcanons)

Taglist:@loveing-eyes A/n: First, this was planned to be a little funny and lighthearted something, but it turned into a bigger lighthearted something (at least for Midoriya and Todoroki). It was really funny to write, so I hope I can make you smile with this. (And I made some new banners for the headcanons:) )

He acts like he doesn't want to and always gets a little angry when you ask him to do so

When Kirishima came into the agency with black nails, he wanted them colored too

You were all over happy and colored his nails suiting to his hero suit

When someone made comments about them, he always mentioned you, but he also was a bit distant about really wanting this

When people copied his look, he became even more proud of it

Every time someone asked him about his great nail, he would tell them that you painted his nails like the goddess you are, but the main inspiration came from Kirishima

He would never leave the house without painted nails ever again

As he came back from work, he tried to be as quiet as he could since you had your monthly girls' night at your place today

He got rid of his shoes and tried to shuffle into your bedroom

The last time he interrupted your little get-together, Mina dragged him into the pillow fort got forced to apply a mask, but it turned out he had been allergic to the ingredients

His face was red for three whole days, and his team made fun of him

You needed to reassure him a lot after that

Shouto became more cautious about your girl's night and tried to be at work during them, but today he was forced to go home by his sidekick since he pulled all-nighter after all-nighter to find the murderer of some rich CEO

The bags under his eyes were huge and you began to worry, so for your sake, he stopped working and took some days off

but as he entered the huge hallway, he wanted to run back to work

Mina came down the hallway, he was too slow to hide behind the huge plant you placed there

"Nice to see you, Todoroki. You look like you could use a way to relax, the bags under your eyes are huge." she greeted him, excitedly

"Thanks, for the compliment." he answered sarcastically "But no thank you I am alright." 

He tried to move on, but Mina grabbed his arm and dragged him with her

"Wait you know what happened last time. Bakugou still teases me, I can gladly live without this." Todoroki told her, but she cold-heartedly ignored him

"Look who came home," she shouted into your cozy living room

Yaoyoruzu, Tsuyu, Uraraka, Jirou, Hagakure, and you gretted him

His eyes were begging for help, you smiled gently at him and mouthed "It won't be that bad, I will protect you"

His frown turned into a gentle smile, but your nonverbal exchange got soon interrupted

"Geez, you can flirt later. We need to give Todoroki a nice treatment, he works so hard," announced Mina as she clapped anticipating

Hagakure made the Make-Up ready and Momo grabbed the facemasks from her bag

Todoroki took a step back as he noticed the small sheetmasks in her hands

his eyes widened, he will not go through this humiliation once again

"I think a little pedicure, will do the job lays. I guess we don't want it to turn out like the last time." You reasoned and took the masks from Momo's hands

"That's right, gladly I bought this new nail polish from Les Mains Hermès. I guess Rouge Amazone is a suitable color to suit his hair," explained Momo excitedly. 

Ochako looked confused at her. "What is Rouge Amazone and Les Mains Hermès?" "A costly Parisian nail polish in a particular red tone," said Momo, even more, confused because of Urarakas lack of 'basic knowledge 

Mina shoved Todoroki into the middle of the pillow circle and he was trapped inside a circle of girls

You started painting his nails gently while trying not to spill any of the expensive polish, in the meantime Mina, Hagakure, and Ochako attempted to get ready for the film marathon

After the nail polish dried Shoto smiled at you

"It turned out beautifully." mused Shoto

After that, he stayed in your little group and watched cheesy romance soaps with your friends

He didn't take off the nail polish for the next few weeks, but as it vanished he asked you to paint them again

As the number one pro hero, he had to not only rescue civilians but also be the cover of hero weekly and other gossip newspaper

The makeup and everything didn't bother him in the slightest, but the nail polish looked oddly

He tried to reason with the staff, but they all told him that it suits him, but they always smeared honey around his mouth one way or the other

On this day, he came home wondering how to get rid of it

Izuku was never one to complain, but it somehow bothered him, and felt ugly with it

You were already getting ready for bed as he slumped through the entrance

"Good evening, sweety. How was your day?" you greeted him

"They smeared some nail polish on my nails, and the color looks disgusting. But I can't get rid of this for the next shooting tomorrow," he answered truthfully 

You took his hands in his and observed what the nail artist did

"You are not wrong, this color doesn't suit your green hair. Maybe we could try a different color, and you could show them tomorrow. Just set your trend." 

He was amused by your "rebellious" side and agreed to color it again. He nodded and agreed "You're right, could you do it for me? Please?" 

His green doe eyes sparkled and you could never say no to this look

"Yeah, of course, darling."

Gently you removed the ugly royal blue

"So I guess we take a decent tone. I would recommend some Beige" you tried to sound like a professional, but your attempt failed as you clumsily dropped the polish and it stained the small lime-green carpet.

You hastily picked it up and tried to act as if nothing happened

Izuku tried to hold his laugh, but he also failed

"Gosh, your clumsiness makes me love you even more," he mumbled between a few waves of laughter

 Your cheeks turned into a slight shade of red, but you tried to compose yourself and painted his nails

After it dried, you allowed Izuku to brush his teeth and get ready for bed

"It looks so much better, thank you, honey," he mumbled while you were cuddling in bed

On the next day, you were hoping the press was doing fine with your change

Izuku came home smiling brightly at you

"Darling, you are a true trendsetter, they loved it. It will probably be the new spring trend. The nail artist loved it too. Maybe you should think about a change in profession." he smiled and hugged you tightly

[zillasvilla]

Fatal Attraction: Independent (preview)

Pairings; Joseph Anoa’i x Original Character

A play on how Joseph went from football to Wrestling

A/N: As you can tell, Roman, is the top playboy I’m currently writing for. I tried writing it with the other guys I write for and well here we are. ( The bow was bigger, but the limit on tumblr made me change it 🙄😒

song inspiration: Independent Women x Destiny’s Child ; Fancy x Drake

Warnings: None

Cause I depend on me if I want it’

"What is love?"

She tapped her pencil against her notebook; not really caring to pay attention to today's lecture and the asinine questions the professor was spewing out to the overzealous and insanely naive group of students that seemed to be hooked on every single word coming from the lips of this less than qualified teacher. 

She sighs and turns her attention to the leather-bound book before her. The gold stitched lettering felt rough beneath her fingers. She flips open the cover, her gaze trailing to cursive hand-written entry. The lavender colored ink faded, but still legible.

November 20, 1992:  Daddy may be a very successful man, and he may have all the money in the world to spoil you with. (god help him, cause he loves spoiling you.) It’s still his money and it can stop. You want something, you work for it. There’s pride in being able to say you got it on your own. ~ Mama loves you

She closes the book and sighs heavily, as the professor ended the lecture for the day. She knew that already. Her dad made sure she earned the allowances she got growing up and she thanked him. It only added to her drive of wanting to be an entrepreneur. She wanted it all and she was going to get it. She starts to gather her things, feeling a shadow stand over her.

"Ms. Gaspard.”

She looks up to see her professor standing before her.; packing her things away the bright pink custom Louis Vuitton bag, earning envy looks from the girls in her English literature class.

"You were distracted during my class. Care to share what's on your mind?"

"Not really, just wasn't fond of today's lecture?" Today’s lesson was on the story of Romeo and Juliet and dissecting the meaning behind the main characters' forbidden love story. It went off on a tangent; leading the professor to ask the class what they believed to be love.

"Okay, that is understandable. Let me ask you this. What is Love?" Ms. Gaspard was usually an active participant in his lectures, and he was concerned when she was quiet. 

"Love is artificial. A mindless emotion that people use to get what they want from a person until it no longer benefits them.” She knew all too well what that was like. 

" Love is different for all people."

She rolls her eyes, that may have been true but for her; Love only left her alone.

Independent with the demeanor of an R&B Singer, naked ring finger. M3 Bimmer

The panting breaths as he ran around the tracks with some of his teammates tired him more than usual. Spring training was no joke, and he constantly felt his body getting weaker. He sighs, stopping by one of the benches, reaching down to grab his water. 

His Adam’s apple, bobbing with every long gulp of the room temperature drink. The constant catcalling, turns his attention to some of his teammates. She had walked by once again, going to the sleek black Maserati. She was always dressed to impress, but today she sported a simple pastel green babydoll dress, white sandals, that showed off the freshly pedicured feet. He couldn’t make out the color on her toes, but he knew they were painted.

The sun kissed her rich brown skin, highlighting her natural sandy brown hair. She was out of his league and he knew it. He could look right?” He doesn’t look away until she’s in the car and pulling out.

Taking another long sip of water, he notice his coaches standing in front of him. 

He knew whatever it was they had to tell him, wasn't good news.

Akhara’s Patrons: If you would like to be added, please comment on the master list. I will try to frequently update it as much as I can.

@justazzi @yana3sworld @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @paigereeder @kill-the-artiste @destinio1 @kill-the-artiste @reci1996 @mindairy @jatriciablog @alichesmi @jstarr86 @minsheyaish @wonderingfashion @whatdoeseverybodywant @jeysbvck @jeysbaby @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @keyaho @chaneajoyyy @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @empressdede @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @pimptressss

[saninthebuilding]

love kills. or does it? - xavier thorpe

summary: crackstone has been brought back from the dead, and it seems that along with mass destruction, there are also some other forms of chaos to be dealt with. feelings, so to speak.

(inspired by the last episode of wednesday)

word count: 2.1k (i got excited)

warnings: potential spoilers for wednesday, modified plot, swearing, emotions, mention of injury & blood, L-bombs, confession, xavier & reader being idiots in love

a/n: recently finished wednesday and i cannot tell you how bad i have wanted to write something for xavier since then. and i finally did!

hope you enjoy it! <3

~

there was chaos everywhere.

students were screaming as they ran out the front gates of nevermore, grabbing their friend's sleeves to drag each other away from the large fire sparking in the center of the quad. people collided and stumbled as they shoved past in an attempt to get away.

crackstone was back.

ms.thornhill- or should i say laurel, had been successful in resurrecting the century-old outcast-hater in his crypt because i was unable to stop her in time.

and now he was wrecking havoc all throughout the nevermore campus.

crackstone was back.

and it was all my fault.

gritting my teeth, i forced a path through the crowd of panicked students, attempting to reach the quad before any real damage could be brought about.

this is my fault.

the fact that it had come to crackstone actually being able to fulfill the prophecy of destruction was on my hands.

maybe xavier was right-

no.

rowan's mother had painted that based on a vision, and they only gave the seer half the story. i had learned that countless times based on my own experiences.

i can fix this.

anger rising at the chaos surrounding me, i managed to find an opening between the students and pushed forward, ignoring the shouts of protest from my peers as they tried to piece together why i was going in the opposite direction.

i rushed into the quad and headed straight to the staircase. from what i could recall, there was a sword set on display on the upper floor of the building.

if i can get that, i can finish this.

halfway up the stairs, i heard a scream and whirled around, peering over the railing to see crackstone entering the quad, staff glowing green.

"i have arrived to rid the world of thy kind!" he roared, energy pulsating through the air.

shit.

taking the stairs two at a time, i slid into the hall of the second floor and instantly spotted the blade. spirits rising, i ran towards the case and swiped it off the stand, giving it a quick once over before turning back towards the staircase.

running down the steps, i went over what goody had told me back in the crypt.

through his black heart, huh?

when you put it like that, his teeth and his heart seemed to be twins.

clearing the final step, i rushed into the quad, and saw crackstone raise his staff at a couple huddled together in front of him.

seriously, did she really step in to protect him? ridiculous.

"howdy, pilgrim." i called to the walking-dead man before he could blast the two of them to ash.

he whirled around, shock etched across his rotting face, and the pair of love-struck fools took the chance to rush out of the main gates to safety.

no wonder there's that saying about love and death.

"how canst thy heart still beat?" crackstone spits, his eyes wide and filled with rage.

"the real question here is how can yours? you look like a walking corpse. oh wait- that's exactly what you are." i adjust my grip on the blade in my hand, before looking the man up and down.

"quite an ugly walking corpse as well."

his face twisted inhumanely, and he let out a seething roar as he raised his staff, moving to charge at me.

suddenly, there were thuds echoing behind me, and a voice yelled out-

"stay away from her!"

xavier.

i spun around, eyes wide and breathing ragged, just in time to see him shoot the arrow lodged into his bow at crackstone. it sped through the air straight at the space between the man's eyes, directly on target-

but it didn't hit its mark.

i watched in horror as crackstone raised his staff, and it glowed green as the arrow simply...froze in place. he twisted his fingers, and the arrow turned in midair, aiming for xavier.

no.

crackstone spread his palm, and the energy his staff released compelled the arrow toward xavier.

no.

i lunged forward, throwing myself into the arrow's path. it struck me straight in the chest, and the sheer force of it threw me off balance. the sword i was holding flew out of my hand as i rolled across the wet grass beneath me, before landing hard on my back.

"no!" xavier cried out, and within seconds he was at my side.

"y/n! what the fuck- would you do that!" he snapped, but instead of anger, there was fear in his voice. his eyes fell on the arrow sticking out of my chest, before meeting my own.

he's scared.

"go, xavier" i winced, struggling to keep my breaths even. i gripped the arrow at the base, before clenching my teeth down and breaking the shaft from as low as possible. i let out a scream as my vision blurred, and my body jerked upward at the sudden pressure being applied to the wound.

"y/n!" xavier's voice was full of panic, and he instantly moved to help me, but i pushed him away with my free arm, exhaling sharply at the pinpricks of pain shooting through my sternum.

"i'll be fine, but you need to help the others."

he stayed crouched next to me, shifting slightly to take the other half of the arrow from me and throwing it away, showing no sign of moving. grimacing, i reached over to grip the hand he had placed on my shoulder and squeezed.

"go, xavier."

his eyes locked on mine, and he hesitated for a moment. suddenly there was a scream echoing from somewhere behind him, and he shook his head, before squeezing back and forcing himself to stand.

he ran.

i watched him go and pull the last few students who were standing around with him out the gates of nevermore, before i turned over and pulled myself up.

ah, that's what the saying is. "love kills."

i stomped down on the handle of the blade, and it shot into the air.

but is this love?

ignoring the thoughts rushing through my mind and pangs of protest from the arrowhead that was still lodged into my skin, i turned to face crackstone.

whatever. at least if i die tonight, it'll be in a swordfight and not of blood loss.

"i suppose you seek an honourable death by my hands" he sneered, before swinging at me with his staff.

"oh please, as if a dead man attacking innocent civilians has any honour" i bit back as i ducked out of the way, before jabbing at his side. he sputtered angrily, deflecting my blade and swiped low, aiming for my feet.

i jumped backwards, slashing the sword up at his face, but rather than nicking skin i ended up knocking his hat off his head.

it hit the floor with a light thump, and crackstone stared at it for a second, frozen in place, before looking up me and letting out a snarl.

"you seem to be taking the revelation of your thinning hair a bit too personally" i smirked, but was quickly overwhelmed by the sudden blast of energy his staff let out. it hit me with more force than the arrow, and i was thrown into the building wall behind me. my sword shattered upon impact, metal bits flying everywhere.

"or a lot too personally" i wheezed, struggling to breathe under the pressure of his magic. a metallic scent filled the atmosphere, and i could feel goosebumps rising on my skin.

"silence, you wretched piece of filth!" crackstone roared, and i felt the strain on my body increase as his magic surged, trapping me. i gasped, fighting for air as my lungs were crushed by the invisible force he had over me.

crackstone grinned at me, his face scrunching up to reveal numerous scars and missing teeth. "finally, thy voice will be silenced forev-"

he didn't get to finish his sentence because there was a blade pointing through his stomach. from behind.

the attacker pulled the sword out of crackstones chest, and it distracted the man enough to weaken his hold on his powers. i slid down the wall and landed on my side, letting out a hiss of pain.

"be gone, you vile creature!" crackstone roared, and i looked up to see him hit xavier in the head with his staff, sending him stumbling back into the fountain.

"no!" i yelled, pulling myself up once again, except this time everything was drowned out. the pain from the arrow wound, the exhaustion from being thrown up against the wall, everything.

except xavier.

i grabbed one of the blade shards that were littered across the grass, and as crackstone turned his attention back to me, stabbed him straight through the heart.

he let out a sputtering sound, looking down at the metal lodged into his flesh. i pushed it deeper, twisting it for good measure, before looking up at him.

"you be gone, you fucking waste of space."

as if on cue, he burst into ashes, and the magic he had both within and around him flooded the quad. i held my ground, and when the air was clear, rushed to xavier's side.

"xavier!" i breathed, dropping down next to him. cringing at the pain that was resurfacing from my arrow wound, i gently pulled his head into my lap, before brushing his hair out of his face to get a look at his head.

"you're a fool, you know that? why the hell would you come back?"

trying hard not to panic, i cut off a strip of my skirt to wrap around the wound, only to stop as i felt him shifting in my grip. looking down, i saw him staring up at me with an unbelieving look on his face.

"are you serious right now?" he breathed, and i raised my eyebrows in question as i proceeded to wrap his head. pushing my hands away, he exhaled sharply as he pushed himself to sit up.

"stop moving!" i snapped, gripping the side of his face with one hand to keep him in place. using the other, i finished tying the cloth together. "you might have a concussion."

"'why would i come back?'" he ignored my protests and pointed at my chest. "you took a goddamn arrow for me and you're telling me i can't try to save you?"

"you could have died!"

"so could you!"

"but i didn't!" i said, gesturing at my completely alive self.

"what if you did? huh? then what?" xavier was getting increasingly irritated, and i couldn't figure out why.

there's no way-

"what do you care?" i tsked, and was about to tell xavier to drop it but he was faster.

"because i love you!" he yelled, "i love you, y/n! for fucks sake, i love you, and that's why i care!"

i froze in place, my heart pounding in my chest.

i suppose that love does not actually kill, which means that whoever said that line was terribly wrong.

"what?"

"did you not hear me? i said i-"

i cut him off before he could finish his sentence, grabbing the sides of his face to pull him down to mine.

and kissed him.

xavier let out a startled sound, before letting one hand rest on my hip as he gripped my collar with the other. i could feel the sweat and blood coating his skin, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of him.

despite the chaos, his hands were steady and he was sure of himself as he kissed me back. i let my hands wander, tangling them into the hair at his nape, tugging gently. he groaned slightly before letting out a surprised laugh, and i laughed as well, savouring the fact that he was here and he was safe and he was alive.

ironically, i seem to have become the very fool i was unimpressed by not so long ago.

i pulled away, breaths coming out in short gasps as i gazed up at him, clutching onto the front of his sweater.

xavier opened his eyes and gazed down at me, breathless. his eyes were blown wide, and there was a small smile playing on his lips.

then again, you don't fall in love every day.

and he was just so, so, beautiful.

"be mine" i whispered.

he stared at me, before sighing.

"y/n, i have always been yours. you just had to ask."

my heart sped up- "will you?"

"of course."

i smiled, wrapping my arms around his torso and resting my head against his chest. i could feel my wound protesting, but for now i focused on him and only him.

"i love you, xavier"

xavier placed a hand on the back of my head, carefully drawing me close and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"i love you, y/n."