#he just needs to up his weight training game in order to do so

[p1nkshield]

Reporter: Tell us Bruce, why have you recently decided to work out more? Do you just want to compete with our Clark? Or is it-

Bruce: My kids.

Reporter: I’m sorry what?

Bruce: I work out so I can still lift them.

Reporter: …

Bruce: if you have nothing else to ask I’m going to leave now. Let’s go Jaylad.

Bruce just picks up Jason and leaves.

Jason looks like a large dog that clearly isn’t used to being in the air.

Like this.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Wild Horses

Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Doctor!Reader

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

A/N: Just a little idea I had after seeing all the TikToks and now I am yanked onto the Ghost train. I used to watch my brother play the game but that was a while ago so bear with me here. (advice or little pointers are much appreciated). I also might make this into a short story or add another part to it, let me know y’all. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings: language, fluff, angst

You were assigned to the team as their personal physician, as requested by the higher ups in order to make sure the soldiers stayed in best health, both physically and mentally. You used to work at your local hospital before you were offered the position.

You knew the dangers and the risks involved, but you were in debt and had student loans that needed to paid. So after much hesitation, you accepted the offer, eventually being convinced by the fat paycheck.

You remembered the day you were first introduced to the team, the way everyone's eyes glued to you like a hawk, their large forms towering over your small frame in the room while you picked at the skin around your nails in nervous habit.

They were curious to say the least, wondering what the hell someone like you was doing in a place like this. And since when did they get the chance to have a full on doctor to treat them, usually they were offered combat medics. You had guts, that's for sure.

You on the other hand were nervous, frightened even, with the thought of living in the same quarters of men wrapped up within the tumults and afflictions of war without a single clue as to their current psychological state. You had seen the worst of men and humanity growing up and you no idea who these soldiers were, what they were capable of, or what their intentions might be. Maybe you should have requested that briefing before you hopped on that plane.

Amongst all of their gazes, you had failed to notice a certain masked individual in the far back of the room, his form shrouded amongst the others as he studied you. His eyes, hidden underneath the grooves of his mask that only seemed to be darkened by where he stood blocked by the only source of light, watched your every movement, from every gesture of your perfectly manicured fingers to every smoothing of the lint-free fabric of your sweater to the way you kept shifting your weight from one foot to another.

One thing was apparent; during the entire length the high ranking officer next to you introduced you and debriefed the men on what was expected and such, you had not uttered a single word, minus the small polite and somewhat strained smile on your face while your eyes told another story. Why the military truly hired you, he may never know.

After being shown your little office and workspace including your room, you were quick to settle in, decorating the area to the best of your abilities with what you had taken with you from back home in order to bring some life into the dull and two-dimensional area. If anyone questioned you on it you would just say that your own sanity is extremely vital in order to ensure quality treatment for your patients.

Once everything in your office was set up, you threw on your white coat and retreated yourself to your office space, sitting at your desk and hastily going over the files that you had completely forgotten about that were given to you regarding the soldiers' previous health before they come pouring in reporting symptoms of god knows what. Best be prepared. Jesus how many bullet wounds can a single individual have.

The soldiers were advised to do their routine physical examinations with you so the first one to come waltzing in through your office door was none other than Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a cheeky grin plastered on his face and much too excited for his own good. That boy's got a crush on you I swear. To be honest I'd be lying if I said the whole team didn't have a schoolboy crush on you.

The men were quick to warm up to you, relieved to have a gentle soul in their midst after all the shit that goes down outside, you were like breath of fresh air. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring a doctor on board, as quiet and reserved as you were. They speculated you were just shy, the reason why you never spoke much, not knowing that you just couldn't hold a conversation if your life depended on it, especially around those you weren't close with. At first they couldn't tell because of your major rbf.

During their routine check-ups or whatever issue they had going on, they would do most of the talking, which was a good thing on your end because it helped you to piece together their temperaments. Thank the lord no one is a psycho murderer. Oh wait.

Soap is the most chattiest of them all. Boy wouldn't shut his mouth when he sat in your office. He's super flirty. But not as flirty as Alejandro.

Ghost on the other hand was reluctant to step into your office for his check-ups. After all he was usually the one to tend to his own wounds or just push through whatever it is that is going on, so he did not know what all the fuss was about in having to get his health checked. So when you call out his last name more than once might I add, clipboard in hand and scanning the area for whoever looks to be headed in your direction, he can't help but heave out a sigh, trudging over to where you stood, your clean white coat a stark contrast to the rest of the environment as you leaned against your door to hold it open.

You muttered out a small hello to which he let out a small huff as you moved aside to let the man enter, watching him walk into your office and seat himself down. That man intimidated you a bit not gonna lie. Not only could you not see his face but he had also not said a single word to you. And not to mention he was absolutely huge as compared to you, even more so in person. You also had heard a lot of stories from the other guys.

"How is your day?" You ask, shutting the door behind you as you briefly read over his previous but extremely short records on your clipboard. There's barely anything on this man. Does he not get ill?

Ghost is quiet at first, watching your eyes scan over the clipboard and curious to know just what is on those papers before your eyes flit up to meet his and catch him off guard, which causes him to answer abruptly. "Fine."

"Okey dokes." You give a quick smile.

Did you just say okey dokes.

Clearing your throat, you go over to where he sat and set the clipboard down on the table next to you beside your laptop. You didn’t have to read his body language to know he did not want to be here at all. So you were going to do him a favor and make the appointment as quick as possible.

"So do you have any allergies to any medications, any allergies I need to know of?" Your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop as you turn to face him, only to be met with an expressionless skull of a mask and the expressionless eyes beneath. Oh boy this session was going to be something. You had heard of how he had never shown his face, so you made sure not to question on it.

"No ma'am."

"Are you currently taking any medication?" You ask the same standard set of questions you have asked every single patient of yours, typing as you go.

"No ma'am."

Any previous illness? Disease?"

"No."

The more you ask him questions, the more he strangely finds it easier to answer. Your voice is surprisingly soft, warm even, like the start of autumn, and he finds it comforting to listen to. Or maybe it's just some technique doctors learn during training in order to relax their patients.

"Do you have any history of smoking, alcohol, or illicit drug use?"

".......sometimes I'll have a smoke, and a glass of bourbon." He's almost waiting for you to hand him a pamphlet about the dangers of smoking.

"How many times would you say?" You ask for details, your eyes still glued to the screen of your laptop as you await his answer.

Ghost is a bit confused by the amount of questions you ask, but he also has not been to the doctor's so how would he know. "Um I don't know."

"A rough estimate is fine."

"Not much, maybe 2-3 times a week or so when I'm not on duty."

"How many times a week do you exercise?" You feel silly for asking this question to a man like him but it's all part of the procedure and you almost pray he doesn't hate you for it.

"Every day." So no pamphlet?

Jesus this man has more discipline than you. You can barely get up in the morning.

"Okayyy." You mutter out, more to yourself as you enter in his responses.

Ghost finds himself watching you from his seat on the chair, his eyes tracing over and studying your features as you type away on your laptop. He thinks you're really pretty but either doesn't want to admit it or just flat out does not know that he finds you attractive.

There are certain details about you that he can't help but find himself intrigued by, like the small black outline flower tattoo on your hand that was located near the area of your thumb, running along the curve to meet the knuckle of your forefinger. He's curious as to the meaning behind it, if there was one. He wanted to ask what type of flower it was, perhaps it was your favorite? It would give him an idea as to what flowers to get you.

"Have you ever been hospitalized, had any surgical procedures done or been treated for any chronic conditions?"

"No." Ghost shakes his head before remembering his wounds from combat, wondering if that is something you should know. "Just the bullet and knife wounds from combat. Nothing too serious."

Jesus fucking christ. You were willing to bet he treated those wounds himself.

Ghost is not a fan of hospitals. Pretty sure this dude just looks up YouTube tutorials on how to fix himself instead of just going to the doctor like a normal human being.

"When was the last time you visited your general practitioner.......or just any doctor in general?" You ask the last question, willing to bet it never.

There was silence on his end as you looked towards him waiting for an answer, the clicking of your keyboard coming to a stop and only loudening the silence. Ghost could not remember the last time he had been to a hospital or even scheduled a visit. And as you looked at him, your eyes almost staring into his soul, still waiting for a response, he could not help but feel a tad bit embarrassed, as if you were judging him for not being a responsible adult. Also it didn't help that you were goddamn pretty.

"I'm gonna take that as a very long time, the last time being the prehistoric ages, correct?" There's the slightest hint of a tease in your voice.

"Uh.......yes ma'am." Ghost squints his eyes at you as you go back to typing on your keyboard. Did you just.............did you just call him…..He does not know how to feel about that. Did you just try to crack a joke? He always thought doctors were the serious type.

"Okay then." You straighten up, grabbing your sphygmomanometer off the table and turning yourself to face him. "Is it okay if I check your blood pressure?"

The man is stunned. No one has ever asked his permission for anything before. He's so used to either taking orders or giving orders that he doesn't know how to respond and stares at you for a moment, forcing his brain to process what to do next before eventually giving a nod.

"Is it okay if you take your jacket off so I can get a clearer reading?"

He nods again, still in shock as he takes off his jacket, leaving him in his black long sleeve thermal. He's almost thankful he wasn't in his full tactical gear, having to imagine you standing there waiting for him as he removes every single piece of equipment off his torso.

"Thank you." You give him a short smile, placing your hand under his tricep and gently lifting his arm in order to wrap the inflatable cuff around his bicep. You almost blush at the mere size of this man's arms. "Now you're just going to feel a slight pressure okay."

Ghost can't help but feel a slight warmth spread to his cheeks at the way you handle him with such care, as if he were the small delicate thing and not you. Now he knows why the others were so giddy after leaving your office.

As you place your stethoscope on his forearm near his elbow to listen to his blood pumping through the artery, your other hand pumping air into the cuff using the inflation bulb with your eyes glued to the numbers on the gauge, he can't help but to notice the old Donald Duck watch that sat at your wrist, the ones with the moving arms and the vintage style black leather straps.

And as he further investigated your attire, he noticed a few other details, like the colorful glittery badge reel in the shape of a pill container with the words "licensed drug dealer" printed on it that was attached to your scrub top, the glitter sticker with the words "I'm nicer than my face looks" as well a few Disney character stickers and the little frog looking keychain that hung off of your badge. He was wondering what the hell that thing was. Your accessories were awfully colorful for a general doctor. Something was telling him you either used to work with families or children. Whatever the hell managed to bring you to such a drastic change.

You brought him out of his thoughts as you shifted from your position, unwrapping the inflatable cuff from around his bicep and placing it back on the table before typing the results into your laptop. "Okay," You adjust the ear pieces of your stethoscope back into your ears as you turn back to him, "I'm going to perform some auscultations, which is just listening to the sounds of your heart and your lungs so if you could just sit up straight and relax that would be wonderful."

Simon straightens up his posture as you place your free hand on his shoulder, at this point you're not sure if you're steadying him or yourself, your fingertips just barely grazing across the bottom of his neck. He doesn't know why but, it's as if your fingers are directly touching the skin underneath, despite the fabric of his mask that separated your fingers from his skin. Your hands feels hot, like really hot and he has no clue why.

The soldier only feels his cheeks warm up even more so now as you inch closer to carefully place the diaphragm of your stethoscope on his chest, your head tilted and your eyes lowered to the floor as you listen for his heart beat. He gets a whiff of your perfume and he finds himself drawn to it. You smell like something along the lines of jasmine petals, geranium, myrrh, frankincense, and a hint of sandalwood. Now he definitely knows why the others are fawning over you. Poor Simon is praying you don't hear how his heart is nearly racing. He does not know why he is feeling this way and it slightly bothers him in the way that he has no clue what it is he is feeling.

He catches how your brows slightly furrow at the center and his heart skips a beat. Now he's fucking embarrassed and this man rarely ever is embarrassed. Maybe he's even starting to panic. Can you tell? Do you know? You open your mouth to say something but he quickly interrupts he just got back from a run so you dismiss it with a shrug, placing the diaphragm on his back now and asking him to give you a couple of deep breaths.

"Okay. Take a deep breathe in, breathe it out. Breathe in, and out."

He complies with your instructions, breathing in slow and deep breaths as you go from one side of his back to another.

"Good job." You remove the earpieces and let your stethoscope hang around your neck as you go back to your table, recording in more info. Hang on did you just, did you just tell a grown 6'4" man good job.

Even Simon is confused. Like bitch.

"Okay, so we're all done with that." You inform him, before going over to one of the drawers and sliding it open. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to have some blood work done on you, just to make sure there are no underlying issues that need to be taken care of."

Simon is silent so you turn to him. "Is that okay, Ghost, is that what the others call you? Would you like me to call you Ghost?"

Goddamn you're too polite. "That's fine by me ma'am."

"Perfect. Now is it okay if I take your blood sample?"

Ghost nods, so you grab the tools necessary and place them on the table next to you.

"Could you please roll your sleeve up and make a fist for me? Thank you." You ask him once you sanitize your hands and throw on a pair of fresh gloves. You grab the tourniquet and catch sight of the tattoos that cover his forearm as you tie the tourniquet around his arm above the elbow. You're curious to know the story behind them but you have a feeling he's not one for storytelling or just talking in general so you remain silent. You tear open the small packet of the alcohol wipe and apply it to the area. The chemical is cool against his skin as you sanitize the area before letting it air dry. Simon can't help but notice how small your hands are.

Simon watches you intently as you work, the way you are so focused and so precise with each step, and yet so gentle. It's almost cute.

"You're just going to feel a little pinch." You tell him in a soft tone, a tone you were used to using on all your little patients before inserting the needle into his vein. As if the man hasn't been shot or stabbed and god knows what multiple times before.

At this point Simon doesn't even notice the needle in his arm, he's too focused on the details of your face. He can sense that you're nervous around him and he feels bad. Even though he's just met you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel scared or unsafe around him. And even though this whole situation is awkward for him since he never was a fan of visiting the hospital, you're their physician, and at the end of the day you're there to patch them up. So he comments on your dark circles, thinking you haven't gotten any rest since you arrived here. "You look tired."

"............that's just my face." You give him that distinct smile, the same smile you have given anyone who ever commented on them as you connect the vacutainers to the needle to draw his blood, your eyes glued to the dark red liquid seeping through the thin clear tube before pouring into the sample tube.

If you thought it was quiet before, well you are most definitely wrong because the silence is absolutely deafening now.

Simon nearly punches himself for his stupidity. Why in the bloody hell did he say that of all things. He wanted to tell you he liked your dark circles but decided to bite his tongue instead. Now he's definitely not going to say another word. Better yet, once he leaves your office, he's not coming back. He's just going to avoid you at all costs in order to save both you and himself the embarrassment. He's willing to bet the others handled this way better than him.

"But I suppose I am a bit jet-lagged though. Haven't really gotten any rest since I got on that plane." You add. "I appreciate your concern."

You most definitely said that to make him feel better about himself, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at the wall and avoids your face. There was no other reason.

Once your done drawing his blood you ask him to hold the piece of cotton pad down onto where the needle was punctured as you open up the drawer where the gauze is located. "Do you have a favorite color?"

Did you just ask him his favorite color? Simon stares at you blankly. Were all doctors this odd?

"I'm guessing you like black?" You pull out the roll of black gauze, displaying it in front of you with the most deadpanned expression possible.

You've got jokes. Simon thinks to himself. If he had looked a little closer he would have noticed the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

"You should see the colors the others picked." You tease as you wrap the gauze around his arm at the elbow, making sure it isn't too tight but also not loose enough to the point where the cotton pad underneath slips out.

Simon narrows his eyes at you. Bloody fucking hell. The others picked a color?

You're pretty sure Gaz requested you get an Elmo print one he saw online once somewhere. Soap asked if there a print of the Scotland flag available. The look of hurt on his face when you said there wasn't so you improvised and gave him both the blue and white gauze. You gave him a Dum-Dum lollipop to make him feel better. The others may have also gotten a lollipop as they left your office, especially after seeing the special treatment that Soap received. Were they jealous? Maybe.

Once you tell the man he is all good to go and that you will call him once you're done getting the results from his blood sample, he nearly jumps out of the chair and bolts out of your office. He prays some unknown miracle happens and that his blood sample magically disappears so that he doesn't have to face you, firmly believing he insulted you and that you thought he called you ugly when that is not what he intended. I am telling you this man does not know how to compliment. They should make a guidebook for dummies specialized just for him.

You watch him disappear out your door with a quirked brow. Well that was fucking weird.

When Simon leaves the area he finds Soap lounging about on a chair with a sucker in his mouth.

"The hell is that?" Simon squints at the sergeant.

"Mph mph." Soap's voice comes out muffled.

"What?"

Soap pauses and turns to see Ghost looming over him. "It's a Dum-Dum."

"A fuckin what?"

"Y/n said they're called Dum-Dums." Soap pulls it out of his mouth, twisting the stick of the lollipop around in his fingers as if he were inspecting it. "This one's a cotton candy flavor."

"She gave you a fuckin lollie?"

"It's pure dead brilliant I tell ya. Why, did she not give ya one?"

More silence. Simon would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a tad bit butthurt.

"Maybe you scared her." Soap jokes.

Simon lets out a grumbled incoherent huff and walks away.

Soap just shrugs and pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

Simon has a feeling he is going to go to bed thinking about his actions.

Part 2

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Gambler - Yan! Sponsor x GN Dom?Reader (NSFW)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Gambler who will fuck you on the damn game table with both your ankles resting beside his jaw. All cards and chips scattered, what were you even betting on? Right, a bet of who will be railed nuts.

Yan! Sponsor who sips down the wine that was served to him as he watches you ruined by him. Occasionally flicking your nipple while letting you sip on the wine as well, sharing it with him with a kiss.

"You pretty little thing, shouldn't have bet against Kai... you blew away all my chips."

"Oh shut up, you enjoy watching me wrecked either way."

"Eyes on me."

Yan! Gambler who hisses whenever you pay attention to the latter more than him, will drill into you even faster and harder just to keep your attention on him.

Yan! Sponsor who proposes the idea of playing a game of blackjack while the two of you fuck.

"Who'll be the dealer huh... wouldn't want anyone else seeing you naked."

"A game, you and me. Besides, what else can you bet on? Just be nice and wrap my cock with that cute little hole of yours yeah? I'll have a game with Kazuto first."

He mutters as he gives your cheek a peck, his hands rubbing your cheeks. Kazuto goes to open another brand new deck card, shuffling it swiftly before sliding it to him.

"The winner gets to fuck 'em yeah?" "Sounds fair enough."

The two of them play while you are endowed with the coiling pleasure that is settling in your stomach, you are close but all that ends the moment he pulls out. You figure he lost the bet with the other as he curses at him.

Kazuto cackles as he rounds his way toward you, examining your wasted body as he fingers you, his other fingers feeling your chest, "Be good for me okay?"

"Make it fast, I wasn't done yet."

He starts pumping his fingers in and out fast, scissoring it open before he slides his erected cock out of restraints, lining the tip in front of your gaping hole.

"That's why you should have just folded, pretty boy."

Kazuto slams his cock into you in one motion, making you moan out of surprise, adapting to his shape and length. The latter only grumbles as he pours himself another glass of vodka, gulping it down like a madman while he watches the two of you, his cock still hard and in need of relief.

You pity it, and so you beckon him to come closer. No, it is more of an order, "Come."

He rounds himself close to your face and your hand holds his cock, lightly pumping it while your lip kisses his angry tip, giving it a tease by occasionally licking it.

"Who's a good boy hm?"

""Me."" The two speak in union before glaring at each other.

You chuckle at them before you roll your hips around Kazuto's length, igniting a moan out of him. You waste no time in pampering Kai's cock as well, wrapping his shaft with your mouth while your legs are wrapped around Kazuto's waist.

Kai hesitates a bit before using your hair as a lever, chasing his own pleasure greedily. You bite his member lightly, reminding him to be mindful of his actions. The state shared between the three of you is clear now, who is leading and who is being led.

You pull away just before he gets to come, edging him by rubbing his head, eyes trained onto the other man. "How's my little mutt doing down there? Need me to ride you instead?"

"N-no, ahhn..." Kazuto shudders as he blushes from the moan that slips out of his lip. You merely smirk at him as you rock yourself on his length, your forearms holding your whole weight as Kai rubs one for himself.

"Be a good boy yeah? Sponsor me more so that I can bust it even more in these dumb games yeah?"

"Wh-whaa-? Wait, urgh- wait, I said wait! Akh-!" You yank his face toward yours by the collar of his shirt, slamming your lip into his while greedily feeling his chest, "Ya' think ya' get to make me wait?"

Not wanting to lose, Kai butts in and licks your face before you allow him to feel your mouth with a kiss, tongues swirling against each other while your hand pinches his nipple, giving him more stimulation.

"Come on boys, cum all over me now yeah?"

Just from your words, granting them permission to come, they start to chase their own pleasure at a more feverish pace. Rope of cum spluttered on your face while the other comes inside you, making your inside feels warm. You groan at how it is splattered on your hair as well, "Fucking aim, skill issue boy?"

"I don't know. You just look prettier that way."

"Don't say something that you will regret, I'll fucking return it to you twice fold."

Kazuto peppered your face with kisses as though he is trying to calm you down, his softened cock still resting inside you. "Now now, how about we play for another round?"

"Sure, I'll make sure you two can't sit anymore once I win."

And you sure are a person of words.

-- Crack

Yan! Sponsor: Please, have a seat.

NPC: ??? Why aren't you sitting down sir?

Yan! Sponsor: I suppose standing is one way of living a healthy lifestyle?

NPC: *visible confusion*

--

Yan! Delinquent: Cmon' pal, we are heading out.

Yan! Gambler: ...with a bike?

Yan! Delinquent: Well what else you shithead? On a cock? A stap-on?

Yan! Gambler: I'm passing that.

--

They are like, the second oldest Male casts in LIfE Pro (after Yulian) and the least favored one ffs. Just gonna drop this snippet here as some sort of memorial for them ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

[nathaslosthershit]

Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)

Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.

“Alex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?”

“Well firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training we’ve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.” Logan replies.

It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat. 

Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Logan’s demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. “Yeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.”

“You both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.” Dammit, this interviewer really wasn’t going to let it go, Alex thought.

“Um yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.” Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didn’t exactly ask a question.

“I was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.” God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.

“Well Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New York” Alex teased.

“Ohhh, where did you go Logan?” the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Logan’s face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.

“Well actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasn’t too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isn’t with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.”

“Hey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been alone” Alex said, offended.

“Mate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.” Logan responded.

“But I still would have kept you company.” 

Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked “Girlfriend?”

The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasn’t looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.

“Uh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.” Logan answered, still blushing.

“Leave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.” Alex teased.

“Hey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while I’m from Florida, they are practically two different countries.”

“Yeah whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes playfully.

The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.

The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others

logansargeant My favorite New Yorker 💙

[tteokdoroki]

vacationing with isagi while he’s abroad for a game or training is so <3

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, semi-smut, minors dni 18+, characters aged up to 20s, vacationing, being spoiled woo, being picked up, wearing a bikini, possession, little bit of smut towards the end, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

like say you’re in Italy and he gets a few days off between matches so he has you flown out first class and as soon as possible. he lets you plan an itinerary of all the things you’ve ever wanted to do with the time you have — trying gelato, visiting historical monuments or scenic walks.

isagi packs a fanny pack of all of your essentials because he knows you have a tendency to forget things. lip balm, sanitiser, a spare sun hat and a stick of spf because all you have in your massive tote bag is gifts for all of his friends back home in the form of an assortment of key chains and fridge magnets. he dresses like a dad, bless his heart. in a bucket hat that matches the colour of your sun dress, shorts and a t-shirt you’ve chosen for him.

isagi tries not to let his hands wander on days where you lounge on the beach. you’ve asked him to put on your sunscreen, and he’s cheeky with it — massaging the cool liquid into the expanse of your skin, rubbing out the knots in your lower back and shoulders so that you let out adorable squeaks and moans.

“do you need me to go lower?” yoichi will groan into the shell of your ear once his calloused hands reach the base of your spine, teasing you from over your cute little bikini bottoms.

you reach back to shove him off with an angelic smile and devilish eyes to match. “later, yoichi.”

he’ll let you drag him over the sandy shoreline and straight to the enticing blue of the ocean that rivals his eyes — glaring at anyone who dares to look your way. it’s a little stupid, he wants you all to himself, doesn’t want anyone to get to take in your beauty, your lucious figure, your dazzling expression the way he does. isagi nearly bites the head off of the poor guy who makes the mistake of glancing your way when you dip your toes into the water and your chest jiggles a little (you bounce away from its coldness).

isagi who has to lift you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his unfairly slender waist, to actually get you into the water. despite how pretty it looks, the sea is cold and you grip onto the pro player for dear life the further he walks away from dry land. he’s in waist deep, calm waves lapping at his slightly tanned skin and abs, when isagi kisses you slowly and drags out your bottom lip to distract you from the mere fact that he plans to dunk you in the water.

he forgets your arms around his neck as you drag him beneath the aquamarine surface with you — a melody of both of your giggles tangling with the salty sea air.

isagi orders you as many dishes, from each restaurant you stop at, as you want — happily spooning a portion of his risotto into your open mouth because you’d forgotten to order it for yourself and grinning when you kick your feet out in a happy dance. he thinks you’re so cute.

and later, on your last night, isagi makes love to you against rose petal sheets that he’d requested from the hotel staff. his tongue rolls over yours and his hips pin you to the bed and you can’t escape because he barely gives you the room to breathe while pouring all of his love into you. it’s overwhelming, crushed by the weight of him while pounds you to high heavens and you can’t help but cry because tomorrow isagi will belong to Japan, belong to the world and it won’t just be you two lovers exploring cobblestone streets and fruit markets anymore.

“you don’t need to think about that right now,” isagi mouths the words against your neck sloppily, his hands reaching between your intertwined and sweaty bodies to thumb at your clit. “s’just you ‘n me, precious. ‘n when this is all over, i’ll take you to another city. another place a-and i’ll fall in love with you again.” he somehow manages to hiccup between slow grinds and lewd squelches.

and you believe him, because no matter where soccer takes yoichi, your heart will always follow.

[alienpossession]

Body a Day 24: Sports

Human have tendency to hurt their body in order for them to grow. That's what they called as workout, training, or sometimes, sports. But there's an element that edged sports from the other two. Right now, I'm working out, I constantly put my muscle under stress in order for it to grow bigger. Well, as you can see, it's certainly growing bigger and denser, right?

But okay, about sports. So I don't find workout to be that enjoyable. I just do it because this human mind told me that it's necessary for it to keep up its appearance and health. In his spare time, he enjoyed watching sports, because sports has this competitive edge that make human excited. It rooted back to the classic idea of tribalism, where human finds camaraderie and belonging to certain tribe and view the others as competitor or merely the others. Can workout be sports? I guess. I heard about these people comparing the weight they lifted and I spotted them watching this weightlifting competition once, so I guess I need more observation on this, but I believe sports is like a gamified workout.

My favorite sports at the moment? Wrestling. Well, it's his favorite sports, but I can see the attraction. It's purely tactical and strength, no weapons or any kind of other distraction or instrument like balls, nets, hoops, etc. and with my vessels interest in men, no wonder he likes to watch and even do the sports. It's practically foreplay for him.

I personally enjoyed rugby and football because it's quite similar to the kind of game I played back in my planet. The only difference is the fact that our ball is very slimy and involved a more strategic play as the ball can change itself to become heavy like an iron or float like a balloon in between gameplay. Very tricky, I think I'll explain in other times

But other than the two, I recently get dragged to play this sports called golf. For me, it's rather boring and if it's not because I tried to suck on my vessel's boss by accompanying his son, I'll skip the opportunity to play the snoozefest

So, what else do I need to know about sports or workouts?

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Zelda's Personality

I did a post about how Link, despite being a player insert, has different personalities through the games that appear subtly and can be inferred based on his behaviors and responses. So now it's time for the Zeldas! More recent games have given more of a shining role to the character for whom the franchise is named, and I love the variety between them all, so let's explore it a bit! (At least for the games that I've played)

Ocarina of Time Zelda - My gosh. I love her so much. This woman ain't a princess, she is a Queen. She is so determined to protect her people that even as a child she's willing to order people around and go against the adults' wishes, despite being ignored. This girl is determined. Like, BotW Zelda gets put down over and over despite her efforts and she is understandably dejected and goes along with what her father wants. This Zelda is straight up like I'M RIGHT YOU'RE WRONG and just moves on LOL. Not only is she determined, she has a plan. A very foolish childish plan because she is a child and no one is going to stop her.

And, naturally, since it's a child's plan against an adult who has all the other adults wrapped around his fingers, it doesn't work. Zelda is left with a kingdom in flames, the evil man she was trying to stop obtained the Triforce, and her father is dead. She's fleeing her home and spends the rest of her childhood in exile. Something like this could destroy a person. And maybe it did. But she picked herself back up. And not only did she pick herself back up, she trained herself to fight. She learned everything she needed to about the Hero's journey so she could guide him when he returned. She stayed in hiding to avoid Ganondorf's watch. She protected the Triforce of Wisdom. This girl is a certified badass.

This Zelda is a fighter in every sense of the word. Nothing will stop her, not even her own mistakes. But she is sensitive too, she's aware of the damage this has done to Link and is apologetic and so incredibly sad. She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. (Granted, this is Adult Timeline Zelda, but she is just Child Timeline Zelda put through a different scenario, so... same personality for both of them, just different circumstances).

So overall, this Zelda is decisive, resolute, never gives up, empathetic, and probably a little reclusive based on how she's always left to her own devices.

Skyward Sword Zelda - This girl is chaotic and it's wonderful. She pushes her best friend off cliffs and sky islands. She bullies the bullies. She's training in a knight's academy, which more people need to remember dang it. She's protective, she's anxious, she's bossy, she's curious.

This girl is also pretty darn adaptable. Like. She gets thrown out of the sky, out of everything she's ever known, tossed into a world of danger with no one to guide her but a stranger, and has to recover memories of being a freaking goddess and endure a journey of discovering herself while also being chased by Ghirahim. And she does it. Like... Link isn't far behind her, he goes after her literally the next day, and she's already doing her part of her adventure. She was told the fate of the world depends on you and she said okay, then, better get going. Like wow.

She has to have a strong sense of self. This girl found out she was a goddess and told Link after everything, "I'm still my father's daughter. I'm still your Zelda." She was called Your Grace, she was a spirit maiden for a deity her people worshipped, and she still said, "yes. Yes, all of this is true. But I'm still me." Like... I know we see her during her journey when she's still processing and not the aftermath, but this girl has a will of iron and will not let go of who she is.

In summary, this Zelda is courageous, has a strong sense of duty, is a gremlin, excitable, assertive, and stubborn.

Breath of the Wild Zelda - Oh, this poor princess. This Zelda is so sincere and wants to help so much, but she struggles with discovering herself and her powers. She is endlessly inquisitive and absolutely crushed under the pressure her father and her kingdom places on her. She lets it out through understandable frustration, pitting it against someone who, to her, represents everything she is not, which is so interesting.

This Zelda wants for the pieces to just fit but she can't figure it out, and instead of doing some introspection she just continues to look for alternatives. When she does do introspection, it's just to ask why she's defective. Things just need to make sense. I feel like an attitude like this implies that 1, Zelda has no instructor and therefore never learned how to learn, and 2, that implies that everything else she's good at has come naturally to her, such as technology. This girl is a scientist! Who has not learned the scientific method! Though she does try experiments, as poor Link can attest.

When Zelda is allowed to just be herself she seems very sweet and bubbly and excitable. She's so happy when she wants Link to try that frog! She's also incredibly chatty, bless her, having to put up with that silent knight all the time haha (yes, Link does eventually talk to her. Eventually.)

I would also like to note that the instant this girl gets her powers, she goes straight to the castle and holds Ganon at bay for a hundred years. The instant she's free of that burden and bondage, she wants to rebuild her kingdom. Like holy cow. This girl went from doubting herself so much to having so much hope. She is a symbol of hope for her Hyrule.

BotW Zelda is uncertain initially, but learns to have faith in herself and more importantly has all the faith in the world in her people. She is inquisitive, extremely intelligent, energetic, bubbly, and very sensitive.

Twilight Princess Zelda - One of the more mysterious and less prominent Zeldas in her series, this woman radiates quiet strength and regalness. Also, her very first scene (or maybe it's a cut scene flashback in her first interaction in the game) shows her brandishing a sword to fight alongside her soldiers. Hell yes, Queen. But she also has the wherewithal to recognize when she's outplayed. She is wise and knows when to fold to avoid needless casualties. She is willing to put herself in such a vulnerable state in order to protect others. She knew that fighting would still result in the kingdom being overcome by Twilight magic with bonus dead soldiers, so she opted for doing it without the dead soldiers. Knowing when you're beaten and taking it with grace to figure things out takes not only wisdom but humility.

This Zelda is also just... so incredibly understated. Her sadness over her kingdom's fall into disarray is poignant but subtle. Her compassion for Midna when she's dying is muted, but so clearly evident in that she gives her remaining life energy to her. Her acceptance of Link as the Hero, and her sign of respect to him and petition for his aid is just oh my goodness, the regal bow, the willingness to fight alongside him, I love her.

With as little as she features in the game and with as quiet as she can be, she honestly is hard to peg down, but overall this Zelda strikes me as someone who feels deeply and expresses little of it. She's quiet, she's reserved, but she is humble and dignified and incredibly kind.

So there you have it. Some of the ladies for you. I love them all dearly and love to compare and contrast them. <3

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Wicked Games

Assassin!Reader x Poly!Feysand

Author's note: This is my first self-insert and first smut, wanted to try something new for a change. Not proof-read, we die like men.

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

This mission was supposed to be simple, quick. In and out, cut and dry, the job coming in like all the others: A manila envelope under your door, no markings, the target and order inside. That was how it had always been, how it always would be, it was the only thing you knew to be true. So how in the Seven Hells had you ended up here? The High Lord leaned against the wall, his well pressed shirt open half way down his chest, the swirl of Illyrian ink in stark contrast to his bronze skin, so casual in the face of what should have been his own demise. Worse, the High Lady, perched atop the desk, her bare legs bouncing against the wood as she kicked her feet almost giddily. Neither of them looked displeased with the fact that you had been sent there to kill them. In fact, you were quite sure the infamous Curse Breaker was laughing at you as you squirmed uncomfortably in your seat. They hadn't even tied you down! It was starting to feel like an insult, they way they'd simply ushered you in here and asked you to sit like you'd come in for a meeting and not for the poison you'd slipped into their wine minutes before.

"It was a valiant effort, really," said Rhysand as he pushed away from the wall and came to stand behind you.

It was impossible not to be aware of the sheer power of him when he was this close. It was like a dropping a stone into a pond, the ripple of star-kissed power brushing steadily against you. You'd been around powerful males your whole life, had been trained to kill many of them, but none had ever felt like this. He was the shadow of a thought in your mind, a brush of darkness against your skin, you could practically taste jasmine and citrus.

Feyre was no better as she placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to get a better look at you. The dress she wore was cut low, the neckline plunging towards her midsection, accentuating every curve when she sat like that. Power radiated off her, not just Night, but something other, as if something beyond the power of the High Lords prowled beneath her skin.

"Not many people dare try," she said with a grin. She'd been the one to catch you. It had been a mistake going for her first, you could see that clearly now. The decision to spike their wine and than disguise yourself as their new cupbearer was already a risky move, but you liked to be absolutely sure the job was done, and done right. And Feyre hadn't taken her throne, she had been perched in Rhysand's lap, kissing his neck and whispering in his ear as she drank cup after cup. You'd thought she would be too drunk to notice the change in taste, too caught up in the revelry to even notice that you were not their usual cup bearer. You had been very, very wrong. She hadn't even gone in for a sip, had somehow been using her public display of affection to distract from the fact that she'd slipped right into your mind and seen exactly what you had done. And still, she could have killed you right there, could have summoned water or flames or ice and you'd heard she could do and taken you out in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares. But she'd gotten out of Rhysand's lap, stumbling on heels you thought were too tall for her, and thrown an arm around your shoulder, whispering in your ear that she needed your help finding the bathroom--and knocking the spiked drinks out of your hands in the process. It was very clear to you now that she had never been drunk in the first place.

Neither of them were anything like the report you'd gotten.

"I-" what was there to say? Words felt useless.

Rhysand leaned down, resting the bulk of his weight on the back of the chair, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "So who do I get to thank for sending you?"

You shivered at his proximity, at his warm breath over the shell of your ear. Not many people dared to get this close to you; not many people got the better of you like this either. This was certainly a lot of firsts.

When you gave no response, Feyre said, "Don't be shy."

They were likely to rip the answer right out of your skull with those terrifying daemati powers if you kept your mouth shut, or worse, summon that Shadowsinger you'd seen lurking around the halls earlier. "I don't know."

Rhysand made a disappointed sound from where he still hovered by your ear. You refused to try and turn to look at him, refused to acknowledge that you had even heard him.

Feyre jumped off the top of the desk, her stilettoes clicking against the polished marble floors. "Now, now, don't make this difficult for yourself."

"Your secret is safe with us," Rhysand said mockingly.

"I don't know! I get my orders in the mail. There's never a return address or signature."

"Where's the mail?"

"I burned it."

"Well in that case," his voice was the only warning before you felt something scrape against your mental shields. You tried to throw more walls up as a talon slashed across your mind, but it was not Rhysand that slipped past, but Feyre, quick and quite as the huntress they said she used to be. She laughed as she sprinted through your memories, all attempts at shielding useless as Rhysand kept poking at what little shields you had up to distract you. They were the perfect team, synced to perfection, each move calculated and sharpened.

Feyre stepped into the memory of you opening the envelope as simply as if she had stepped through a doorway. The memory unfolded for her, you saw your own hands break the seal, open the letter, and burn it in a flash, before reality broke back through. You shook your head, fighting the memory away like it was a spot in your eye.

"That handwriting looked familiar, didn't it, Darling," Rhysand purred, the low timber of his voice rumbling in your ear.

"How thoughtful of Keir to give us an Anniversary gift," Feyre returned.

Keir. You only knew the stories about him, what a horrible male he was. You'd been lucky to have not been born in the Court of Nightmares like your mother, had grown up only with the tales of what kind of place this was. Your mother had protected you for as long as she could, but when Amarantha had come, when war bands had fought and bickered over land in the little territory she and your father had managed to make for themselves... well, they were gone and you'd had to find a way to survive, but you hadn't forgotten those stories. Your stomach twisted. This job had never been easy, but it had never been for males like Kier. At least, you'd never thought so.

You must have looked surprised because Feyre put two manicured fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at you. Something wicked gleamed in those strikingly blue eyes and you quickly blurted, "I swear I didn't know! I needed the money, I didn't know the job was from him."

"We believe you," she said. "But I think you should prove you're worth letting go."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I'll do anything!"

Rhysand chuckled at that. "Anything?"

The suggestiveness in the question made you shiver, more so when the High Lady broke into a grin. That couldn't be a good sign.

"I want to see Keir sweat a little, don't you dear?" Feyre asked over your head to her mate.

"More than just a little, I should think."

This felt like a fever dream, everything a little distorted and muffled. Perhaps it was. You had hit your head pretty hard on your last mission. How else could you explain what was happening here?

"Stand," Feyre ordered.

You did as you were told, even if you were biting the inside of your cheek.

"So responsive," Rhysand said, more to Feyre than you.

You frowned at that.

Feyre stepped closer to you, settling her hands on your hips. There was no room to twist away as her mate settled in behind you, the heat radiating off him seeping through your shirt. They even moved in perfect sync.

Nowhere to run now.

"You're going to play our favorite game with us."

Game? The reports hadn't said anything about them liking games.

"I don't understand-"

Rhysand cut you off, "Just follow our lead."

Feyre gave your hips a squeeze, "It's fun, trust me."

You didn't know what this had to do about proving you had made a mistake in taking this job, but you didn't know what other choice you had, so you just nodded.

They led you back into the throne room, the night's revelry still in full swing. Near the back, where the tables were still piled high with food, was Keir, the aging steward speaking conspiratorially with some of the other high ranking officials of the Court. Did he know already that you had failed? If he did, he didn't show it. He didn't so much as look up from his conversation.

Something hot twisted in your stomach at the sight of him. How could you have taken a job for a male like him?

Feyre pulled your thoughts away from him as she pulled you over to the dais, where their thrones sat empty. Even though Keir wasn't paying attention, others in the crowd were.

You swallowed thickly as Rhysand slid into his rightful seat, looking every bit the High Lord he was. Feyre didn't resume her seat in his lap, however, this time she perched on the arm rest, and guided you into her former place.

Your cheeks heated, mouth dry as the High Lord looped a strong arm around your waist and positioned you more comfortable on his lap, one long leg slotting between your own.

Feyre chucked at your obvious embarrassment. "Now now, you said you'd do anything." She said into your mind.

You dared a glance at her. This wasn't what you'd meant!

"This game is much more fun if you relax," Rhys purred as he dragged his nose over your throat looking for a place to sink his teeth.

You shivered despite yourself, the warmth of him seeping into you.

Feyre gripped your chin in her hand, forcing your gaze away from where it had wandered into the crowd. Keir still wasn't paying attention, but more and more people were halting their dancing and drinking to leer at this new pet their High Lord and Lady had brought back with them.

"Eyes on us."

Rhysand's hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh. The servant's garb you'd borrowed was a thin pair of pants, and a large, hooded sweater, not the sexy, revealing gown the High Lady donned, but you still couldn't help but feel incredibly vulnerable in this position.

How were you supposed to know what to do? How was this proving you could be trusted not to take another job from Keir? Was that fool even looking this way?

Rhysand nipped at the underside of your jaw and you jumped, thoughts careening away from Keir and whatever he was doing. The High Lord's breath was warm on your neck, each nip he left along your jaw sending shivers down your spine. It was an effort to keep your eyes open, to not immediately tilt your head back against his shoulder and let him explore every inch of you as you submitted fully to him. He could make you, if he wanted, it would be all too easy for him to reach inside your mind and move you however he wanted. You'd be a liar if you said the thought didn't excite you. The thought of handing yourself over to someone with that kind of power, testing to see what they'd do with it was more tempting than you'd ever dare say aloud. And maybe the High Lady had heard those thoughts, because a moment later, she was threading her hands through your hair and tilting your head back to let Rhysand explore further.

You whimpered softly as he ran his tongue over your pulse point and then Feyre was leaning in and nipping at the other side of your neck. It was too much at once, the overwhelming scent and warmth of them had you leaning fully into Rhysand's shoulder, eyes closing. One of their hands slid under your shirt, stroking at your side, you thought it might be Feyre, but didn't dare open your eyes to look, lest this really be a dream and you'd awake alone.

"Good girl," Rhysand praised. Somehow, even in your head his voice was low and husky. His hand slid further up your thigh, testing as he drew closer to your core. The move had you squirming and Feyre responded by dragging her hand from underneath your shirt to hold your hips down. There was no escaping either of them.

You still weren't sure how you ended up in this position, but you no longer cared. All you knew was this, them, and how much more of them you needed. Distantly you wondered if this was some daemati trick, if they had slipped into your mind and convinced you to do this. You decided you didn't care if they had, not as Feyre's lips were on yours, her tongue sliding past your teeth. There wasn't a hint of wine on her lips, despite all you'd seen her drink earlier. How she did that was anyone's guess.

Rhys drew circles on the inside of your thigh with his fingers, teasing you now as he continued to nip at your throat. There'd be marks in the morning, of that you were certain.

Feyre broke apart abruptly, laughing as you chased after her. "I think she likes this game of ours."

"Shall we play some more?"

You could play it all night if they wanted. There was something intoxicating about the two of them that had you desperate for any scrap of affection they could give you.

"Yes!" You said it faster than you intended, a blush creeping it's way back up your cheeks as you realized how pathetic it sounded, especially to two high fae. "Please."

Feyre leaned over you to kiss Rhys this time, intentionally pressing herself forward so her chest brushed up against you. You arched up to press your lips against her collar bones, too scared to go lower. She hummed approvingly into Rhy's mouth and he rewarded you by dragging his hand the rest of the way up your thigh, cupping your core through your pants. You were desperate for friction now, grinding your hips into his palm, even as your lips continued to work of Feyre's collarbones. She smelled so good! Her skin soft under your lips. You wanted the time to run your lips over the smattering of freckles she'd gotten while hunting in the summer time.

Rhys' free hand slid into your hair, pulling tight as he whispered in your ear, "No marks on your High Lady. Not without my permission, understand?"

If you were of any sound mind you might have been tempted to scrape your teeth across her throat, just to see what he would do, but you knew you weren't lucky enough to get away with it after everything that had happened already. "Yes, sir."

His dark laugh rumbled in his chest, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. This was a very dangerous game, far more dangerous than any assassination attempt had ever been. Dangerous, because, for once, you were enjoying it and enjoying anything in this line of work got you in trouble.

Feyre leaned back, out of your reach, and still held by Rhys' arm around your waist, it was impossible to reach out after her. Especially now that the High lord had decided he didn't like the article of clothing between his hand and you, and was reaching for the waistband of your pants.

The blush returned tenfold. This--touching, kissing, in front of all these people was one thing, but that?

The High Lady pouted as she looked at you, her eyes lust-blown, so dark you almost couldn't see the blue. "I think you have too much on."

Before you could contemplate what that meant, she snapped her fingers and your sweater disappeared entirely.

You tried to move to cover yourself, squirming now, and she grabbed your hands with a disapproving tut. "No hiding."

Rhys' hand had slid inside your waistband, so close again your hips rocked forward, searching for him without conscious thought, even as your face heated. There was a fine line between your pleasure and sheer mortification and somehow you were still teetering between the two, torn between wanting more and wanting to sink into the floor and disappear. The crowd was watching, or at least you were pretty sure they were, at this point you were too scared to look and kept your gaze glued to where the High Lord and Lady were touching you.

"So pretty," Feyre hummed as she moved your hands up and around Rhys' neck.

There was no hiding what they were doing to you now. You might have fought them harder if Rhys' hand wasn't finally where you wanted him so desperately, a finger sliding easily into you. Your jaw dropped, a strangled sound coming out of you.

"So wet," he teased, mind to mind. "All this for us, pet?"

Pet. Toy. The High Lord's little play thing. You'd been called worse.

"Yes, sir."

"So well trained, maybe we should keep her," Feyre said as she placed a gentle kiss on your nose.

"Where'd you learn this manners, hmm?" He nipped at your ear as he slid a second finger inside you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the stretch, at the way he curled his fingers, hitting all the right spots. Heat coiled in your gut and you found yourself instinctively tightening your hands into the silky strands of his hair.

"Certainly not Keir," Feyre said as she brought her hands to squeeze at your breasts.

You'd had your eyes closed, lost in the bliss of Rhys' ministrations, unprepared for the new sensation of her hands on you, you let out a moan louder than was appropriate for the situation.

"Guess I'm just good at this game," I quipped weakly. The two of them working together like this was becoming overwhelming, you could barely think past the point of contact of with their hands. There was only this and them and the heat coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach. Rhys' pace was quickening. Feyre was playing with the clasp at the center of your bra, toying with it like she was contemplating ripping it off you.

She might have, if someone hadn't cleared their throat at the base of the dais.

"What do you want Keir?" Rhys sneered, the true picture of princely boredom, as if he was not currently holding you at the cusp of an orgasm, as if his mate wasn't leaving hickey's on the exposed skin of your breasts as they spoke.

You'd thought, as you registered Keir's presence that this would be the end of it, that they would stop now that they had his attention, but Rhys was still curling his fingers inside you, stroking relentlessly as Feyre bit and sucked at your sensitive skin. You arched into her, biting down on a moan, this game be damned. Who cared about Keir? About the rest of the court? You needed them to keep touching and kissing you. This was all that mattered.

You were panting as Feyre giggled into your skin. "Doing so good for us."

"Please," you begged, grinding yourself down on Rhys palm. You were so close, just a little more.

"I hate to interrupt," Keir began.

"No you don't," said Feyre. "It's your favorite thing to do."

"But your little toy-"

"Brought us a gift for our anniversary?" Rhys finished for him.

"We know," Feyre added. "It was a really sloppy attempt at a gift."

Keir stammered, none of the words coming out right.

"She needs some training," Rhys said. "A little refining around the edges, but I think this will be a very profitable relationship."

"Just wish we knew who sent her our way," Feyre cooed.

Rhys' free hand hand came up to rest on your throat, just tight enough to make you lean your head back to look at him. The move sent heat straight to your core, your muscle tightening as you whimpered for him. "But we'll get it out of you eventually, won't we, pet?"

Keir was visibly shaking now.

"Mhmm," you whimpered.

"Come on now, where are those pretty little manners you had before?" Rhys teased, his hand suddenly stilling.

The loss of friction was too much, tears welling up in your eyes. "Yes, yes High Lord." You stammered.

His grin was feline as he started moving again, faster this time. Feyre slid behind your mental shield again, this time opening up a door in her own mind to show you what you looked like through her eyes, your pupils blown, your cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen and red. They'd left little red marks all along your throat and chest. Then she blasted you with an image of what she still wanted you to look like, images of her between your legs, of you taking Rhys in your mouth. You tightened around Rhys' fingers.

"And you would take the word of some-" whatever word he was about to throw at you was suddenly cut off as Rhys removed his ability to speak.

"Careful how you speak, Keir."

The steward's mouth opened and closed as he tried in vain to defend himself.

Rhys waved a hand, "You clearly have nothing useful to say here, you can go." Keir spun like a top, mouth still flapping open and closed like a fish, limbs splayed awkwardly, clearly not in control of his body, until Rhys made him walk half way to the door. Once he'd been released from the High Lord's grip, he stumbled and all but ran for the door.

"Why...?" The rest of the thought eddied from your mind as Rhys curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside you that made stars dance across your vision, your orgasm barreling through you so fast you're sure you screamed their names, but didn't have the presence of mind to hear it for yourself.

"We could kill him now," Feyre said as you slumped back against Rhys' shoulder. "But what fun is that? Why show him the mercy of a quick death when we can have him looking over his shoulder every five minutes, contemplating how to beat us in this wicked little game of ours?"

"I think," Rhys cooed as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple. "That it would be much more fun to eventually turn you on him instead."

You huffed a laugh at that.

Rhys carefully removed his fingers from your core and attempted to bring them to his mouth for a taste, but Feyre beat him to it, sliding his long fingers directly into her mouth, holding eye contact with you the entire time.

You clenched your legs together, wincing at the bit of soreness you felt there.

"Besides," Rhys purred in your ear, right before he shifted you around, settling you chest to chest in his lap. "This game is just getting started, isn't that right, pet?"

[cloverthebarbearian]

I am here to feed the Rugan community to the very best of my ability 😌❤️ she's a long list fella's so get comfy

Masterlist of Rugan HCs (NSFW under cut)

Rugan on the Road

With the Zhentarim

He's incredibly bossy while never doing much hands on work himself

He's always trying to find shortcuts to getting a job done quick and easy

Constantly pulling 'we're a team here we're family c'mon now' if his crew starts bickering

Empty promises of promotions or good words put in for low ranking recruits if they do extra work for him

But if you ACTUALLY manage to impress him though? He will show favoritism and not even try to hide it

Doesn't care much for following orders if he can get more from a better deal, but has been getting sloppier about hiding his schemes with age (girl why did you offer to split profits on a smuggling job with a complete stranger for real)

Big drinker, heavy sleeper, still somehow the first to wake up every morning

Also the first one to duck during a battle if he finds an opening

First one to act like 'we sure showed them! By working together. As a team.' When the fights been won

As much as he loves to slack off and take shortcuts, you'll never catch him complaining about the 'little' things. Low rations? Not hungry. Long journey? We need the exercise. Small crew? Good for stealth, travel light.

Even though he's a selfish asshole, he has a really charming demeanor and good enough attitude during the shittiest of situations that most people find themselves enjoying the journey with him by the end of the day

With Tav's Party

(Let's say after you've saved him from being near beat to death for finally getting caught scamming the Zhents, you convince him to let you escort him to Baldur's Gate just to make sure he doesn't get jumped again and fucking Die)

The man is SO flirty. He can't stop flirting. Depends on if Tav is into it or not will drastically change how he comes onto them, but note its not JUST Tav hes flirting with. He's got eyes on practically everyone. (Except Laezel. He tried, once. She threatened to kill him) No one knows if hes serious or if its just his personality but the man can't stop flirting.

At first, he puts in some work. Wanting to put in a little effort to carry his own weight and not be a burden, though Tav insists on him resting after the ordeal

But it doesn't take long for him to milk the mothering. His injuries suddenly become too distractingly painful. Even though Shadowheart absolutely mended that broken rib two nights prior. He insists the bruising is still pretty serious. He needs to save his strength for travel.

The entire party gets pretty sick of his BS after a while, but its not enough to kick him out or anything

Phrases like 'shut up rugan' or 'fuck off rugan' become campsite mottos

Once you all get to Baldur's Gate, its a funny, bittersweet dynamic of everyone saying they're releaved he's finally leaving, but reluctant to say goodbye

The first night without him is unusually quiet without his drunken campfire stories and earth shakingly loud snores

Rugan as a Mentor

No ulterior motives in the sense that, he only ever recruits people he also finds attract. A bias he refuses to outright acknowledge ('I have an eye for talent! Not my fault the talents also a looker 😏') so he would recruit Tav with every intention of possibly bedding them. The motives are not ulterior. They are perfectly apparent.

Similar to in game canon, he'd recruit them by trying to come to some sort of sale arrangement. Though lets say instead of selling the chest to split profits for themselves, he convinces Tav that rescuing him would surely warrant a reward back at their base, which would in turn lead to more jobs, which would lead to more money for them

Always insists on training his personal recruitments himself (for the non-ulterior ulterior motives)

Is FULLY the type of coach who has to insist their stance is all wrong so he can stand intimately behind them and guide their limbs to the proper position

He's got his cheek pressed to their's, gruff voice low, talk'm'bout 'You're far too tense, Sweetheart. You really need to relax those shoulders and widen your stance, like this...'

He's entirely aware of what he's doing and makes Zero effort to be subtle about it

General Rugan HCs

SFW

Drinks a lot but holds it well

Getting him truly drunk is VERY funny and usually ends up with him gushing about how much he cares about his friends, his guild mates, stuff he'd never be caught dead saying sober, and will insist he never said drunk either

Has 101 stories of his decades running jobs on the road, most of which you're certain are entirely made up... Until you meet an old business partner of his one day, who can corroborate the tale

For such an experienced merc/trader, surprisingly light on battle scars

Very, VERY ready for retirement. May have even been getting sloppy with his scams on purpose in the hopes of being kicked from the zhents all along...

NSFW

The man fucks. The man FUCKS. Rough and sloppy and hard and like its the last romp he'll ever have every single time.

Will always make sure his partner finishes, typically more than once

Likes to choke his partners

Likes to cum on their face

*Gasp*! Oh noooo, we can't find/afford a room to rent for the night. I guess I'm just gonna have to take you right here in this ally by the bar 🤷🏼‍♂️ but you better be quiet, unless you want to get caught...

Big into dirty talk and will practically narrate his plans for the evening as he acts on them

Has the stamina to last hours and prefers to take his time but still always down for a quickie where he can get it

Sorry everyone, but the idea of aftercare is lost on him. When you're both finally spent he's literally tossing you a damp rag while he steps out to smoke a Fantasy Cigarette

Cuddles in his sleep, and doesn't even know this about himself. But you will wake up in a near-suffocating bearhug if you fall asleep together

[pablitogavii]

Doctora

Summary: You start your internship in sports medicine at FC Barcelona, meeting an interesting footballer who quickly develops a crush on you.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: there will be angst/smut/fluff

possibly a short series if you guys like it :)

Pablo's POV

We just came back from the short break, and my groin somewhat healed but I kept feeling numbness in my upper thigh that I didn't mention to anyone. I hoped it would just go away and besides everyone who knows me knows that I HATE doctors!

I would rather push through pain for days than go see a doctor. It was since I was a kid and they couldn't find my vein during regular check up at La Masia that I developed real fear of needles or any hospital related 'stuffs'.

It was during training when I was trying to lift weights with my legs that I kept wincing so much so that Xavi pulled me to the side to ask if everything was alright.

"Soy bien, no te preocupes" I lied but man was suspicious saying I should do a check up with one of team doctors before the next game. It was my very own nightmare!

"But sir, it's really nothing..I'm probably sore" I said realizing just how illogical that was considering this was a first training since we got back from a break.

"He's scared sir! Pablito is scared of doctors!!" Ansu joked around as others joined him making me do my best to hide the embarrassment for being afraid of something so silly. I was Pablo Gavi after all!

"I'm not scared cabrón. I just hate being poked!" I said proudly pretending like I currently had no worry in my mind (which was far from truth).

"Scared or not, you have to see the doctor after training Gavi" Xavi ordered and I could do nothing but nod rolling my eyes at the guys who were smirking at me.

This is just my luck!

Your POV

It's been such a long morning already with lots of paperwork and barely any time for a proper meal or a cup of good 'wake me up' coffee.

I was interning with the medical staff as the young college student so of course they gave me all the grunt work but I didn't mind feeling grateful for the opportunity.

"Hola..um..I'm sorry, I need someone to get my blood drawn?" Gavi walked in and I felt myself staring at him before focusing on his question instead trying to forget that I found him extremely attractive!

"I can do that. Take a seat please" I said and he does but furrows his eyebrows in process.

"Aren't you like my age? Can you really poke people??" he said and I chuckled at his choice of words while prepping the syringe and the needle.

"Well, I got my EMT certification done early and now I go to school while working here and yeah poking people is kinda my specialty. Do you have an arm preference?"I said walking up to him immediately noticing that he was the 'nervous patient' which was kind of adorable knowing how confident he is on and off the pitch from seeing him around the camp.

"Well..um..I don't know" he said and that's when an idea popped in my head seeing that he had his eyes shut waiting for me to do something.

I slowly pulled up one of his sleeves putting on a tourniquet and wetting the gauze with some rubbing alcohol. That's when I start excercising my plan.

"You know I watched you play in the last game and I thought to myself 'damn! that boy is fine!'" I smirk seeing that he was starting to relax as his confidence returned the moment I said that. Pablo Gavi loved to be complimented, that's for sure ;)

"Is that right nena??" he said as I cleaned his skin but he barely paid any attention to my actions waiting to hear me say something back.

"Mhm..I mean you in that sweaty home kit..and your hair falling on your forehead..it did things to me" I said opening the syringe and slowly tapping his veins.

"I bet I can do better things to you.." Pablo said and I felt my panties getting wet knowing that my words were god honest truth and then I finally poked his vein pulling enough blood to run all the necessary tests.

"Alright! We are all done!" my words took him by surprise as he opened his eyes shocked that he didn't even notice me poke his skin as he was too busy imagining the things he wanted to do probably..not that I minded ;)

"Wait..so was this all to distract me?" he said and I smirked tossing away the waste before getting back to my desk.

"I will see you next week when the results come Gavi" my smirk only grew when he got up and walked over placing his fingers underneath my chin making me look up before suddenly crashing his lips onto mine leaving me in utter shock.

"I'll see you around nena" he winked before leaving. Damn it! Getting involved with a player!?

That's just my luck!

Guys please comment if you want this to become a series because I really like the plot :)

[mj-102009]

Queen of Chaos (Gojo x oc Part One)

This is the first chapter of what MIGHT be a series bc idk if i really am gonna finish this but I love the concept. Enjoy-----

The clock clicked softly in the background, I tapped my fingers on the desk, the man in front of me was looking around my office in an attempt to avoid my eyes. 

“So you want me too…” I thought for a moment. “What? Use my influence to postpone his execution?”

Nanami nodded. “The boy is young and I see potential.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back, he met my gaze and did his best to hold it. After a few seconds I felt him start to twitch and fidget from across the desk, but he had lasted more than most so I smiled.

“I’ll do what I can,” I told him. “Good to see you Kento.”

He left my office with a ‘You too’ and a nod.

 I pursed my lips, deep in thought.  Yuuji Itadori was a vessel, I of all people should know how difficult it is to bear that weight. And like Nanami said he’s a highschooler.

After much consideration, I grabbed my phone. “Hello? This is Megara Ren, I’d like to speak about the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna.”

My heels clicked against the tiles as I stalked down the hall, the letter was crumpled into a ball in my hand. Yaga and Nanami were trailing behind quickly, the door was just up ahead.

“Mrs. Ren,” the principal tried again. “If you would just-”

I felt around for the handle then swung open the door and all of the kids jumped in alarm, a tall man in front of the white paused to look at me through his blindfold.

“I’m here to speak with the vessel of Sukuna,” I told him as softly as I could as he moved in front of me, while behind me I heard Yaga’s sharp intake of breath.

The tall man gave me a cold look, I crossed my arms and returned a blank stare. “On whose orders?” He asked.

I tossed him the crumpled ball and pinned a boy with my gaze, his energy was overflowing with curses– marking him as my target. “I was sent by the higher-ups, to evaluate the boy and decide how to move forward.”

He turned around and gave a wide smile to his unsure students. “Yuuji.”

The boy with pink hair stood up and hesitantly walked toward me, I gave him a glance up and down before spinning on my heel and gesturing to him to follow. We stood in an empty office, he wasn’t sure where to look, but eventually he was drawn to my unsettling gaze.

“Why so tense?” I asked calmly, loosening up my posture and sitting on the dusty desk.

He swallowed thickly. “Gojo-sensei told me someone would be coming for me; he said they’d try and kill me.”

I nodded grimly. “That was what I was sent to do,” he didn’t react– instead he took a deep breath and looked me dead in the eyes. 

“I understand,” He said. I raised an eyebrow. “I’m the vessel on Sukuna, and it makes me dangerous. But I won’t let you until I eat all of his fingers.”

He was startled to hear me let out a loud laugh, throwing my head back and squeezing my knee. “I’m not gonna kill you, kiddo.”

“You not?” He asked.

I shook my head, still chuckling. “I’m here to watch and train you, I could never hurt a child.”

He sighed in relief, but still managed to maintain eye contact, it piqued my curiosity. “Are you not scared?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “You’re just a person, I have nothing to fear. “

I hummed in intrigue and grinned. “I’m not utterly terrifying to you?”

He looked confused. “Nothing is threatening about you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I listened to the noises of the city from my spot on the roof, laying on a thin blanket with takeout beside me. In the distance a siren went off, the black cat on my chest was purring like an engine, a child had started crying for its mother. A very light gust of wind brushed my bare arm, I smiled and turned my head slightly behind me.

“Hello there, Gojo,” I called.

He walked over to me and crossed his arms. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

I chuckled. “I won’t. The higher-ups just think he needs more than your little games to train him for what’s to come.”

He frowned and laid on the blanket beside me. “He’s doing just fine.”

“I believe you, but I’ll tell you now Sukuna will not let him rest once he starts,” Gojo tensed at my words.

“Starts what?”

I looked him straight in the face, or as close to it as I could get, my pearly white eyes reflected his face back at him. He had never been afraid under my eyes, no matter how much I told him I was dangerous, no matter how many people she killed, no matter what I did he never listened.

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

It took all 15 of my alarms to wake me up, and only an hour later did I actually get out of bed. Yawning, I made breakfast and sat on my couch, Dex twirled around my ankles and begged with wide eyes for a second breakfast, the small cat was three years old and is still a total attention seeker. 

“Wanna explain why you’re in my living room?” I ask, feeling his presence warp through the window.

He turned on the lights and sat beside me. “Wanna explain how the blind woman can cook?”

I hummed and chewed my eggs. “Practice.”

“Yaga wants you to meet my class and I on the field for defense training,” He told me while crunching on a piece of bacon.

I raised an eyebrow and turned to him. “Yaga or Gojo?”

“Bit of both,” He replied, and I felt the truth.

“Okay.”

We walked into the school a few moments later traveling with the help of Gojo. I had exchanged my pajamas for a white crew neck and black leggings. Gojo was skipping down the paths as we walked along the grass. I rolled my eyes as I felt his glee seep through the air.

“Oi,” I groaned, massaging my temples. “Stop being so happy,” but hissed when I felt more coming from the first years.

“SENSEI!!!”

Yuuji jumped in joy and bounded over, I scowled and screwed my eyes shut. Silence filled the air when I felt the eyes of all the students fall on me. “My lovely students! This is-”

I elbowed him in the gut only to get blocked by infinity. “Allow me to properly introduce myself without dipshit jr. interrupting,” he sputtered and I smirked. “My name is Megara Ren, I’m a special grade sorcerer and I’ve been sent to watch Sukuna’s vessel,” at the end I bow politely. “I sincerely apologize for my rude arrival the other day, orders or not I had no right to disrupt your learning.”

They stare at me with wide eyes as I stand straight with a kind smile, one that quickly turns into an annoyed sneer as Gojo buts in. “Isn’t she the most boring person you’ve ever met!”

“Oi!” I snap attempting to kick his kneecaps but failing.

He continues to mumble on watching as I kick his legs, the teens sweatdrop at the sight. Putting a stop to Ren’s attacks, the girl steps forward and clears her throat.

“Excuse me, Ren-Sensei?”

I turn to her with a hum. “Yes…” 

“Kugisaki Nobara,” She supplies and I nod. “I was under the impression that there were only four special grades?”

“That’s what most people say,” I admit. “Not many know me because my family is small and old and I’m usually out of the country for business.”

Gojo scoffed. “And all the higher ups fucking hate you.”

I pointed at him. “And there’s that.”

Yuuji’s eyes widened. “Why do they hate you?”

My face twisted into a sad smile. “I was unfortunately born with a curse, like yours.”

“Is there a way to get Sukuna out of Yuuji?” Fushiguro asked.

I winced. “Nothing that won’t bring him tremendous pain.”

“Still on that Ren?”

Yaga appeared behind me with a chuckle, I turned around and beamed. “Sensei!” A finger pushed my head to the right. “Oh shit- Sensei!”

“Nice to see you as well Mrs. Ren.”

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Still the teachers pet Megara?”

“It’s Ren to you Gojo,” I hissed.

Yaga watched us in amusement, the students watched as we argued like five year olds over nothing of relevance. Finally I grabbed Gojo’s arm through his infinity and warped him to America.

“Now that he’s taken care of,” I dusted off my hands and smiled. “Why was I called here again?”

“Because Gojo is too childish to train these three for what needs to happen today,” Yaga told me.

Speaking of which, Gojo rematerialized beside us with a glare. “Senseiiiiiiii,” He whined pointing at me. “She sent me to Ohio.”

I grinned smugly, Yaga ignored him. “While it is wonderful to see you again Ren, it seems that our students aren’t as adept at defending themselves against attackers as we’d thought.”

“Did something happen?” I ask curiously.

Kugisaki whirled on Yuuji. “Oh I’ll tell you what happened!” He winced and Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes. “This dumbass let Sukuna out and he nearly died!”

I snickered and elbowed Gojo. “They sound like us when we were they’re age.”

He giggled. “Who are we kidding? We were much worse.”

Nodding solemnly, we miss Yaga’s light smile and shake of his head.

Standing straight beside Gojo I clear my throat, Yuuji makes eye contact with me and I feel his fear, it makes my lips curl up. “Now I understand the burden of having a curse attached to your soul, but if you allow it to control you it will hurt the people you care about,” I tilted my head to where Gojo is. “That burden is worse than what you already carry.”

Chills went up everyone’s spine, except Gojo who rolled his eyes and punched her shoulder. “Debby Downer.”

I chuckled. “Alright alright, what am I doing today?” I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. 

“Knives,” I began, twirling one around my fingers while listening to Gojo try and fail to replicate the motion. “Rule number one: Don’t stab yourself, getting cut is different, it’s a part of the learning process and teaches beginners how to avoid such mistakes.”

Gojo leaned down to pick up a fallen blade. “She means it builds character.”

I flicked the knife into the air with my thumb and kicked it straight at the general direction of Gojo’s cursed energy. I heard him yelp and then the chime of metal falling to the ground. “Don’t listen to him, I’d prefer if you’d not get hurt, Ieri would end me then and there.”

The students each grabbed a wooden dagger and stood five feet apart. Gojo talked them through the first exercise while I pouted at my inability to watch.

“You can use me you know,” He reminded me, I felt his sincerity. “I don’t mind.”

I shrugged and pushed back my hair. “I’ll manage.”

“Sensei!” Itadori shouted excitedly. “Watch me!”

Gojo watched and I huffed, he elbowed me and said softly. “Meg, c'mon watch your students,” He teased.

I stepped on his foot. “Fine.”

With a deep breath I closed my eyes and whispered ‘Let me borrow his vision’; with one blink I was looking at the boy trying and failing to flip the wooden knife through brilliant blue eyes.

“Ow!” He shouted as the dull blade fell on his head.

I chuckled and strode forward. “Here,” I picked up the dagger and repositioned his hands. “The trick, in my opinion anyway, is to move your wrist up and flicker your thumb like this at the same time. Watch me,” I took a much sharper knife from my thigh sheath and did the motion smoothly. “Gets easier with practice of course, you try.”

He stuck his tongue out and bounced the knife around for a moment before making an attempt, for a first try it wasn’t half bad. “Ren-sensei did you…see me,” He whirled around in excitement but stopped and looked at my eyes, recognition flashed in his eyes. “Whoa Sensei your eyes! I thought you were…blind, but are you like,” He hesitated. “Gojo-sensei’s sister?”

I threw my head back and laughed while Gojo chuckled as well. “That’s th-the best thing I’ve been told about my eyes!” I pitched forward and clutched my stomach in laughter.

“Sensei?” Fushiguro sweatdropped. “Are you-”

“She’s fine Megumi,” Gojo told him with a giggle. 

When I had finally turned my bellowing laugh into a few giggles, I stood straight and wiped the tears from my eyes. “Oh god no, it’s my technique. You’re right I am blind, so I look through other people’s eyes to see.”

Kugisaki squinted at my eyes. “Are you seeing everything from Gojo’s point of view?”

I nodded, then switched to Megumi’s black eyes. “I can move to anyone as long as they have a nervous system.”

Itadori frowned. “Only eyes?”

“No,” I said slowly. “There’s more, but it’s not-”

“Yasha,” A gravelly voice said from Yuuji’s neck. “You’re Yasha.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I was the vessel of Yasha, yes.”

Sukuna laughed. “You fools! Put me within the same room with the Queen of Chaos, I’ll destroy you all-”

“Was,” I repeated, glaring distastefully at the mouth. “Yasha was exorcized 9 years ago.”

It closed slowly, Gojo gave it a smug look and gave me an approving one. “Yasha was a bitch.”

“Damn right she was,” I muttered glaring at the closed mouth. “So is the so-called ‘King of Curses,’” I reached for Yuuji’s forehead, resting my pointer and middle finger just below the fringe of with hair; and felt around his mind until I reached the familiar blackened point. “There you are,” Just as the little mouth opened to protest I had wrapped the darkness in a blanket of light and stepped back. 

Yuuji looked around in confusion, tapping his head then looking at me. “What did you do?”

“He should leave you alone for a while,” I told him, bending down and grabbing a fallen dagger. “Let’s try the flip again without him, shall we?”

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

(I just had another thought, sorry for not putting it with my previous send)

Left-handed swordsmen were often difficult to fight against in medieval times, since every swordsman ever for that time period was trained with their right hand, against right-handed opponents.

Due to right-handedness, most castles of said time period spiraled upwards in a clockwise manner - it would make it so that higher-up defenders could easily fight back against lower attackers, because the defenders' sword arms would be free to swing about, while the attackers' own sword arms would be cramped by the middle pillar of the spiral staircase.

With left-handed swordsmen, the issues would be reversed, which gives them an edge in spiral-staircase combat.

Anyway! What I'm trying to get at here is a simple thing of imagine being a left-handed swordsman with Childe/Legacy.

~ The anon who wanted Kaveh but didn't want Baizhu or Ganyu

P.S. Just wanna say, love and appreciate you for having a (mostly) fluffy Legacy-centered blog.

'tis my honor and joy to bring you only the finest quality Foul Legacy fluff (and angst, but not today :)

i'm assuming Childe is mostly right-handed seeing that he pulls the bowstring back with his right hand in-game, but i offer the headcanon that he is actually somewhat ambidextrous! not entirely, since it comes from the enormous amount of training he does, wanting to be able to fight no matter what hand, but his left hand still isn't useless even though it's his non-dominant one. needless to say he and Legacy are veryyyy excited to find out that you're not only left-handed, you're also a proficient sword user! they bug you for sparring sessions- well, Childe bugs you (playfully), Legacy watches in awe whenever he inadvertently comes across you doing your own training, sitting silently and staring in amazement until you lower your weapon. there's a soft, pleased trill when you do, a weight gently nudging your shoulder as you raise your hand and begin scritching Legacy behind the horns, met with warm, deep purrs of delight. can you give him tips on how to improve? he'd love to master some new techniques

Childe's secretly very glad that you can fight, and not because it means you can spar with him. it means you can defend and protect yourself if need be, and with his position as a Harbinger, it's quite likely that someone will either try to kidnap or assassinate you in order to "send him a message"- and they did, once. but never again, after your would-be captors returned as slashed corpses floating through the river. Childe had found you that day, calmly cleaning your blade with only a bit of blood on your clothes, and he had simply grinned and pulled you into a proud hug. from that moment on, battles are you on the left, him on the right, side by side- of course, Foul Legacy takes center stage if he's needed, slaughtering every enemy in his path before returning to you looking very pleased with himself, nudging your hands for congratulatory scritches

[sterekchub]

Jock Derek decides to get into the competitive eating game. Starts a YouTube channel. Gets some fans, who suggest crazy eating challenges. Derek keeps pushing himself to fulfill all the ridiculous challenges, but his stomach is so stretched out that he’s hungry all the time. Starts gaining weight. Slowly, his eating challenges videos just become mukbangs as Derek goes from jock to exjock to chub…and eventually Derek starts showing off his growing belly as he goes from chub to just huge fatty.

"W-Welcome ...*BBBRRRpp*... to Eatin' ...*blurrrRPPP*... w-with ...*BRRRPPpp*... Derek

10 Viewers "Hey...I'm Derek. I twisted my ankle during practice so the Coach benched me for the semester and if I don't play, I don't get money towards my tuition. So umm....I'm not sure how this works but my friend makes money gaming on his channel so I thought maybe....I'd start reviewing local restaurants or campus food or something."

You turn off the chat, disinterested. There's enough bad food ASMR and mukbangers online, he's attractive, but nothing special. You have better things to do than watch him fumble his way to unwrapping a Chipotle takeout bag like it was something special.

50 Viewers You find yourself back on Derek's channel a week later. He still looks uncomfortable in front of a camera. His room isn't even set up to stream, a bunch of random lights behind him and his dinner clearly on the desk next to him, 2 liter of soda and some Pop-Tart boxes. You're about to click away when the otherwise dead-chat pings:

Try the 2L soda challenge!

Derek nods and brings the soda bottle up to his lips. "Easy," he brags, suddenly much more confident and you get the aura of a cocky, self-assured jock. He chugs the entire bottle down within 2 minutes, waving the empty bottle in front of the screen and letting out a long burp. "Done. Damn, I need some pizza after that..."

He goes back to sitting there in mostly awkward silence as he scrolls on his phone, clearly ordering food. You leave the stream again. 200 Viewers You can't help it - you check back into Derek's stream. He's gained more followers in the last few weeks since you saw him and you see the last few videos he's posted all see to have a theme - Eating Challenges with Derek.

Looks like he's been eating well. There's more softness to his jaw and cheeks and the sports T-shirt he's wearing looks stretched a little tight.

"Tonight I'm trying the milk chugging challenge - one gallon in one hour."

The chat is more active than usual.

Got Oreos to go with that?

Derek holds up 3 boxes "not going to get through all that milk without them."

Gotta love jocks who eat like they're still training

if he pukes, I'm leaving

Bet he's done this before

Derek finishes 2 boxes of oreos and the entire gallon of milk, ending the stream reclining in his chair looking satisfied, hands rubbing his milk-swollen gut.

500 Viewers Derek has become your new favorite streamer. You're not sure if he knows the chat is entirely full of feeders egging him on, but he clearly loves the attention and is willing to do almost anything for donations.

"Thank you to *feedemup72* for the donation, tonight's challenge is $100 at Taco Bell." He points at several bags sitting next to him. "Actually $108 because I got 3 sodas, hope you don't mind."

Only his top half is visible as his streams, but in the last few months he's developed a curve to his belly that presses into his computer desk.

damn he's gotten fat in a few months

ii hope he does the donut challenge next

Derek slows down when he's three quarters of the way through. He shoves the last bite of a burrito into his mouth and groans. "Don't think I can do this one." He's got rice spilled onto the front of his shirt, and a few inches of bare, furry belly are visible where his bloated stomach is pushing his shirt upwards.

You're feeling reckless and type into the chat '$20 if you can finish 3 more burritos." You can see the determination as he leans forward to grab another from the pile, like it's the winning point his team needs. "Uggh I might burst..."

1000 Viewers "I'm getting a little chunky," Derek laughs, standing up in front of his computer with both hands lifting up his pudgy middle. It's not only his middle that has gotten thicker. His jeans look painted on and his shirt is so tight you can see the lovehandles just starting to poke out over his jeans. "Hope the coach doesn't mind. Got my clear bill of health for my leg so practice starts again tomorrow." are you still going to stream? Sure the coach won't mind you waddling on the field? forget sports, fatboy, you were made to eat! "This might be my last one in a while, practice keeps me busy. But for my last challenge- I got a cake to celebrate!" It's just a plain cheesecake, but Derek looks at it like it's better than sex. The little groans of pleasure he makes when he takes a bite somehow feel dirtier than watching him devour the entire thing in under 45 minutes. 3,000 Viewers It's been almost 6 months since Derek's last stream and you've almost forgotten about his channel entirely when you see he's gone live again. His follower count has almost triple and the chat is swarming with excitement at his return. OMG finally he's got to be 300 by now has he said anything no he's been eating for almost an hour! Think he knows he's live? Are you okay? You can't take your eyes off the screen. Derek has Chinese takeout containers in front of the screen and is digging into them like he hasn't eaten for months. The arms on his gamer chair are no longer visible under hefty love handles and his belly is fully resting into his lap by several inches. Derek keeps eating, double chin wobbling with each fast-paced bite, until he finally stops to reach for a can of soda. He drains it in one go and then looks at the chat, still shoveling food in his mouth as he talks "c-coach ...*mnfgghhhulp*... kicked ...*mmnnch*... me ...*chew... o-off ...*nibble*... de ...*gnaw*... team." I'm sorry too fat for the team? Look at him- he's not running anywhere! He hasn't stop eating What a fucking pig You have to know, typing in the chat. "$50 if you tell us what you're weighing in at." You watch as Derek scans the chat and reads your message. He finally puts down the food and stands up to show himself off to he chat. "Three-twenty-seven." From the size of his hips and ass as he turns, you would have guessed closer to 350. He looks upset, pinching and grabbing at the excess blubber that's thickened him up everywhere, but when he sits back down and grabs another soda, he almost looks relieved. "So.. guess I'm back to streaming. Any suggestions for another *gulp* *swallow* food challenge? 5,000 Viewers Doesn't look like a jock anymore he's a fucking blimp any ideas how to blow him up more bet he'd eat straight lard if we paid him fuck look at that gut Did he really just fall asleep? bet he wakes up and starts eating again You're $500 poorer- but looking at the size of Derek, it seems like money well spent. In the last three months, you've paid Derek to do the ice cream gallon challenge, the milkshake challenge, the donuts-burger challenge, and the carbo-load challenge. And you were also to blame for the current stream. Tonight had proven too much even for his monstrous appetite and he had needed a break, too full to even speak, just sitting in front of the computer groaning and grunting and burping, rubbing his boulder of a belly until his overstuffed moans had turned into tree-splitting levels of snoring. The last quarter of his fifth footlong cheesesteak (With extra cheese and meat of course), fell out of a pudgy hand and onto the floor. Derek had weighed in at 398 last night, and you impatiently wait for him to wake up rounding out the scales at over 400lbs of blubber. 10,000 Viewers

This stream was a special one. Derek had tipped the scales at a whopping 500lbs, reluctantly heaving himself out of his bench-sized seat to show off for the chat just where all of those pounds had piled on to. Face swollen with fat, his jawline completely obscured by chins and a tire-sized neck. Thighs wider than his former waist, and of course, the unmistakable belly which was not so round and lard-filled it rested on his knees when he was sitting. "Finally hit a follower milestone," Derek wheezed proudly, wiping sweat off his forehead from the exertion of just standing for several minutes and then collapsing back down into his seat. It creaked ominously. On instinct, you check his Amazon wishlist. Candy, funnel, XXXXXXXXL shorts, more candy, bariatric scale...huh. No bench. Guess he thought the one hw as currently straining was going to last longer than it sounded like. "So someone sponsored to me to eat a hundred-thousand calories, one for each follower!" You thought you misheard. 100,000? That can't possible be right. And Derek was popular sure, but with a niche group. You double-check and his follower count was sitting at 10,002. Confused, you check the chat. did he say 100,000!!? looking and thinking like a pig no one said jocks were smart That's going to take days think he'll realize? too late to back out, he took the money That's like 30 pounds of calories. No way is he going to do it! Derek was reading the chat and checking his phone in confusion. "I did...misread a bit there." Do it eat it 100,000 blimp he's gonna pop come on fatty, EAT EAT EAT! Derek still looks confused, but puts his phone away and smacks a hand to his belly. "I can handle it. Better start now..." You can't watch the entire stream, having to pull yourself away at some point to go to bed and go to work. You haven't missed much - Derek sits at his computer, struggling to his feet every few hours to get his latest food delivery he doesn't bother to turn off the livestream and everyone gets' a perfect view of Derek's swinging, wobbling obese frame as he slowly shuffles in and out of view. Even at night, he waddles out of view to go to bed but leaves the stream running, his snores rattling around the empty room and the only view the staggering amount of fast food containers thrown haphazardly everywhere. Think he'll reach 600? he's too fat to stop now he should eat like this all the time It takes Derek 2 days to eat it all. Even for someone used to all the eating challenges, Derek was eating with a frenzy and a determination you'd never seen. The chat kept his calorie counter for him, and he was absolutely struggling to keep on pace, looking like every bite was a Herculean effort. You tune back in, the afternoon when Derek is down to his last 2,000 calories in a bag of greasy burgers and fries and milkshakes. He looks bloated and fat in a way you've never seen, like at any minute he was going to just start expanding and become a fat filled-balloon the size of the room. His body was clearly protesting, Derek had to keep taking longer and longer breaks inbetween to massage his belly, although he couldn't fully reach around it. Gurgling farts and thunderous belches that chat kept telling him meant he had room for more. 100,000 calories. Almost done. Just a few more... Derek guzzled down the rest of his milkshake and looked triumphantly at his camera, eyes glazed over and face smeared with food.

T-Told ...*puff*... ...*BRRPFFBLTTT*... you ...*uhhnngh*... ...*thbbbt*... I ...*hmphhh*... ...*Brrbllpfft*... c-could ...*blurrRRPPP*... ...*Splrrpffrtbtlt*... do ...*BRRRPPphh*... ...*Frrrpffltbtt*... it.

[traincat]

hi!! ikesoren height anon again, thank you for the detailed answer!! i honestly loved how thorough it was, but you talking about the height and weight stats in-game also made me think—soren's probably not wearing any armor into battle with a weight stat like that, huh?? ike being even heavier than he is tall makes sense because he's got armor and a big sword and whatnot, but soren is really just charging into battle in nothing but a shirt and cloak... i know mechanically it's somewhat normal for mage classes in these kinds of games to only wear light/leather armor or even just cloaks, but i wonder how ike feels about soren waltzing into fights with zero padding lol

Hi height anon! Yeah, like you said, it's pretty typical for Fire Emblem mages not to wear much in the way of armor. Typical fantasy RPG things. (His strength stat in FE9 starts at, uh. Zero.)

But on the general topic of Ike worrying over Soren/being protective over him, there's a couple of things this ask brought to mind, like these quotes from Soren's introductory chapter.

Shinon: All right, Ike. Let’s see how you handle the role of captain. Well? What are your orders, boy? We’ll do what you say, so long as you hurry up and spit it out! Ike: I know, I know! I’m thinking! Give me a moment, will you, Shinon? Shinon: Bah. Useless! We’d be better led with Mist than this soft, untested whelp. Ike: Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. Soren and Rhys are vulnerable, so we have to protect them from enemy attacks…Right? Soren: That’s a sound strategy, Ike. I can attack from behind your defenses. Good thinking. Ike: Do you mean that? Um…all right! Let’s do that then.

(FE9, Chapter 4.) For context, Ike's the son of a mercenary commander and this is the first job he's been given lead over, so he's very much still learning how to command -- so this is a little bit tutorial-y for players, built into the script, since Soren is your first mage and positioning him behind a character with better defense like Ike is a pretty good strategy for training him up. (There's also some boss dialogue much later where Shinon accuses Soren of, quote, "hiding behind Ike's apron.") The above is the default, where everyone is alive, but there's this variation if you've (somehow) gotten multiple other characters killed.

Soren: Ike, do you have any ideas on how you want to approach this fight? Ike: Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. You’re vulnerable, so I have to be sure you’re protected from enemy attacks, right? Soren: Right. Er…sorry for the trouble…but I appreciate the consideration. Ike: Sure. All right, let’s do that then.

I think the awkwardness of this variation is really cute, tbh, down to Soren apologizing for the trouble. It fits considering how young they both are at this point in the game, and that it takes place in the early chapters before war breaks out.

And then a variety of "death" quotes -- Soren is too plot important to actually be killed before the very final chapters of FE10, so if you do get him killed, Ike will order him to retreat. (Classic Fire Emblem has permadeath for characters, and it's sort of an in-joke-that's-not-entirely-a-joke that a lot of players, including me, will just reset if characters die. Listen, it's the right way to play. But I always like looking at the death quotes, they tell you a lot about the characters, and Soren has a lot of special ones.)

Soren: Oof! That was…poorly done. Ike: Retreat, Soren! You’ve done all you can here! Soren: But, Ike… Ike: You heard me. Fall back! You can still help us with our planning. Besides, if you tell us all what to do, we’ll be better off, right? Soren: I… I understand… Please…be careful!

(Up until FE9, chapter 17.)

Soren: Oh… Ow! Ike: Hold it, Soren! You’re not staying in this a moment longer! Withdraw! Soren: Ike, I can still– Ike: Our tactician isn’t allowed to make faces like that. Ever! Listen, we need you planning our strategies at base, so leave that attitude behind. That is unless you have a problem with the two of us in command. Soren: Of-of course not! I didn’t see… … I understand. But listen… Stay safe, Ike.

(FE9, chapter 18 until the endgame chapter.)

Soren: Argh! Not now… It’s the last battle… How could I be so careless? Ike: Soren! Just fall back! This may be the last battle for Crimea, but it won’t be the last battle for us, will it? Soren: What? Ike: We’re mercenaries. After this battle, there will be hundreds, maybe thousands of fights ahead. Am I wrong? Soren: I… No… Ike: Right. So get out of here. Our little group needs you! Do you understand? Soren: Ike… I understand. I will withdraw… Ike! Don’t let me down!

(FE9, endgame.)

Soren: …Ugh… What a terrible place… to die… Ike: Soren, retreat! Soren: But, Ike… Ike: Aren’t you supposed to be my strategist? Use your head! I need your help. Soren: …I see. As you command…

(FE10, part 3.)

And, okay, listen, not on the subject of Ike being protective, but Soren's endgame actual death quote is a lot.

Soren: Ike… Please live… Even if all the cities burn, and the seas swallow Tellius… You mustn’t die… Not you…

(FE10, part 4 endgame.)

There's also some fun game mechanics at play -- if you have Ike and Soren next to each other in FE9, Ike negates critical hits against Soren. Soren is the only character he does this for, notably.

The possessed version of Ike from the mobile game also explicitly warns only three characters to stay away from him so he won't hurt them -- Mist, his sister; Titania, his surrogate mom; and Soren.

[writingpei]

wicked games (l.m.) - chapter thirteen

previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: academic rivals to lovers wc: 3.5k words

feels like we only go backwards

“can i have one more americano?”

"no"

“pleaaase” he sulks in his seat.

“only when you do number 7”

the tutoring sessions took place in the cafe, where hyunjin lazily hunched over the counter in the less busy hours of the establishment, and she gave lessons and tips in a light whisper while heating the milk for the cappuccinos. he didn't mind the shift from the library to the cafe, from the silence to the rumble and cutlery clattering on plates, from the smell of old books to the smell of muffins and coffee that hung in the air. hyunjin also liked to get a discount on his drinks and watch her work, the dynamicity of her movements that contrasted violently with the static and empty view of her across the table where they always sat in the library

the physics test is approaching and a rumble forms in y/n's stomach. with work every day after school, your time to study has been reduced considerably. even if he helped hyunjin study, it was never as effective as her hours locked in her room doing exercises until her hand hurt. she believed in her capabilities, however, and the threat of minho overtaking her, feared as it was, still wasn't exactly expected to happen.

"girl?" even so, nothing could stop her mind from traveling unprecedentedly so you can imagine the idiotic smile that would form on his expression if he won, and the fluttering in her heart fueled by the urge to slap it out of his face. "did you listen to me?"

the lady with her hair tied perfectly with the designer bag falling off her shoulders was looking at her with an apparent frown, and the hostility in the air around her made y/n wake up from the trance she was shamefully in.

“yes, i heard” she flashed a painfully forced smile and showed the notepad with the macchiato order smeared on the blank page. “a macchiato with cinnamon”

the woman crosses her arms and looks her up and down, as if she couldn't catch her redhanded.

“make it lactose intolerant free” is all she says before heading to the waiting area, and it's only when she takes her eyes off her figure that y/n realizes how dull her hard, snobbish look was.

instinctively, her eyes searched for hyunjin who was already looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“rich middle aged women” is all he says to her as she walks over to get the oat milk.

“do your exercises, you get too distracted” sometimes she considers demanding a hyunjin raise for not only being his tutor but also his babysitter. the time she started to spend with the boy was much longer than she originally expected and the banality of his presence in her everyday life scared her.

“oh my god, y/n! i'm taking a break, okay? can i have that americano now?”

“you've been taking a break for the past 30 minutes and, once again, no” she rolls her eyes already feeling her patience being cut short as she added the cinnamon to the order of the woman who tapped her foot on the floor as if she wasn't waiting for just 3 minutes.

“it wasn't 30 minutes, you are so dramati-” he fell silent as he took his cell phone out of his backpack to check the time and his eyes widened. "need to go! my training starts soon”

he starts to gather his things as she just rolls her eyes one more time and hands the coffee cup to the frowning woman, who finally walks away.

“you know” she starts saying as soon as she goes back to where he was sitting. “the weight of always being right is starting to make my back hurt” she says just to annoy the boy, which she's been doing a lot lately, as she's been avoiding her old punching bag like he had the plague.

“what the fuck is wrong with you this past week?” he asked visibly offended, looking uncannily like the woman who'd answered.

“pent up frustration and lots of entitlement” she shrugs in his direction and proceeds to wipe down the counter.

“i know something you can do to apologize to me!” he exclaims out of nowhere, as if he just remembered something.

“i don't remember the part where i apologized to you in the first place” a frown appears on the girl's face.

“do you want to come to my next game this saturday?” the smile is soon back on his face as if it never left in the first place, and she almost takes a step back from his overwhelming animation. when hyunjin starts talking about basketball, he never stops talking. she found this out the hard way.

“um…” she starts to think about how to refuse, but he got her the job. and pays her every week for classes where she doesn't have to do much. and a friendship, strange and unwanted, but a friendship. "i will see what i can do. i'm going to have to start attending student council meetings so i don't know if i'll have a lot of time in the week yet, but i'll try to make it”

an even bigger smile spread across his face and a wave of relief traveled through her body.

“with minho?” she is instantly alerted by the name rolling of hyunjin’s tongue so easily, reminding her of the boy she has been trying so hard to sink into the depths of her brain. “the meetings, i mean” he clarifies.

“uhmm, yeah, with him” she grimaces as she mentions something about him, even though she has purposely avoided saying his name aloud as if he is impure.

“try not to kill each other then. want to see you in the audience, huh” he bends down to pick up his sports bag from the floor and slings it over his shoulder. “and for the love of god, take some time to lighten up your mood because you're a mess”

“oh, now i really feel like going to the game” she never misses the chance to stike back sarcastically, but he's already walking away.

she starts to get nervous thinking about being alone in a room with minho since the last time this happened. things have been strange lately, mainly because of their meeting in the library.

she'd rather die than admit that minho's actions had any effect on her mood, but if she said otherwise, she'd know she was lying to herself and that was even worse. so a limbo of thoughts dominated her mind as she ran to the bathroom after he'd left her alone in the library and vigorously rubbed the place where he'd touched her wrist with soap and water to make sure he didn't stay in her skin. she could only be dirty, it didn't make sense for the spot to be marked on her senses like that or her heart was about to come out of her mouth.

when she realized that nothing she did could lessen the feeling, she just floated to her plan b and started avoiding him. she came to that conclusion because the unfamiliar tickling feeling in her stomach blossomed once more when she saw him the day after the incident, and she felt on the verge of a meltdown.

was she becoming the kind of person she herself despised most of all? she couldn't say, mostly because even she couldn't explain what she was feeling and why she felt like she was losing touch with herself, being so disturbed just by the ghost of his fingers on her skin.

she couldn't even allow herself to think about how delicate they felt, the exact opposite of what she expected from someone as ungracious and crude as the boy.

which is why she's been avoiding him these past few days, however much she can't get away from the burning memory of his insolent face in her head.

and now he was in front of her.

his perfect hair and white sleeved blouse that reached his elbows made her face feel hot. hot with rage. the reality of having to work with him until the end of the year dawned on her shoulders. she just resorts to sitting opposite him in the great room, crossing her arms and refusing to look his way. confusion over feelings she couldn't understand was quickly turning to anger.

he, on the other hand, could only look at her. minho didn't feel shy at all, and he definitely wasn't shy about facing her even from afar.

the time she avoided him, he did the exact opposite, or at least, he wanted to. he knew that something had changed since that moment when they were alone in the library, and he spent every silent day wishing that she would appear in front of him and treat him as if nothing had happened in the first place, as if it had just been all in his head, some perverse wish that had become confused with reality inside his mind.

but minho wasn't one to chicken out and reality was, quite literally, in front of him. she had her face on and it was that attitude of hers that was never fun.

“so” sooyoung, the high school secretary says as she enters the room which was covered in an air of silence. “i see you two are already interacting…” she says with a tone of humor but neither of them reacts, her eyes on the floor and his eyes on her like a hawk, silently hoping she will look up at him, even if he know that she wouldn't. “ok… the first task they want you to work on is organizing study groups before exams. the school wants to promote an environment of companionship”

she waits for one of the two to speak up, but once again only silence answers her. she takes a deep breath and sits down on a chair in the middle of the room, between the two of them.

“listen, you guys need to help each other. you are in a very important position in the structure of the college that demands efficiency, and you will not succeed if you refuse to acknowledge each other's existence” but not even those words managed to elicit any kind of response. sooyoung takes another deep breath and stands up, clutching the files she needed to hand them against her chest. “come with me, both of you”

the sound of her heels hitting the ground dominated the room and y/n was the first to get up and follow her, tossing her hair to the side and not bothering to give minho any kind of glance. once she starts walking he wastes no time walking after her, frustration building in his chest with the inexplicable desperation of the desire to make her look at him.

sooyoung opens a door in the middle of the hallway revealing a small room with shelves filled with documents and school files.

“i want you to go in there and find something for me,” she says simply, holding the door open.

y/n looks at her for a few seconds with narrowed eyes before taking the first step into the room, and minho trusts her judgment blindly and follows in her footsteps.

“what do you need us to find-” she starts to say as soon as she turns to face sooyoung in the door, but it is quickly closed and the sound of a key being turned in the doorknob is almost like a symphony of death.

y/n felt her heart drop out of her chest and she runs to the door and tries to open it vigorously, but it doesn't budge. of course, it is obvious that it does not open. she leans her forehead against the door and closes her eyes tightly, hoping that this isn't happening.

with the door closing, the light has gone too, and they are consumed by a spreading darkness. she can't feel minho at her back, can't hear him. would he touch her one more time? the thought made her skin crawl and heat rise to her cheeks. lightly, the sound of his breathing comes in her ear with a strange gentleness coming from him, and a wave of light spreads out.

“i found the light” he says softly, right behind her.

she turns and leans her back against the door, putting her hands over her eyes and taking a deep breath. "this isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't-"

“it's happening” minho interrupts her abruptly, choosing to lean back against one of the shelves. “what a shame…” he crosses his arms and looks up.

“you don't seem all that affected by it” is the first time she's spoken to him, and it seems that venom escapes along with her words.

“it's because i'm not” he gives her a matter-of-factly look.

“oh, shut your mouth, minho” she rolls her eyes and walks out of his field of vision. as small as the room was, the shelves separated it considerably, and she walks to the last one.

"actually, i won't" he replies, feeling the nerves getting to his skin too. her steps are light even where she is. “how were your last few days, huh?”

a frown appears on her face, as much from his having followed her as from the confusion of the question.

“what the hell do you even mean, minho?” she crosses her arms and looks at him with a judgmental look hoping he would stop approaching, but he wouldn't and wouldn't and wouldn't until he was close, close enough for her to notice the undone button on his white shirt that it's not supposed to be giving a more extensive view of his skin down to his neck, but her gaze quickly rises to his face with a bit of reluctance, afraid she's been caught in a forbidden act.

“these past days you've been avoiding me” he clarifies, running a hand through his hair and leaning over the shelf next to her so she can't get out of there. “you think i don’t know when you avoid me?”

“do you pay that much attention to me like that, minho? how pathetic. i doubt you don't have anything better to worry about than just being obsessed.” her arms drop from their crossed position and she turns to face him. she wouldn't run away, least of all from lee minho.

minho needs a few seconds to detach himself from the trance of looking into her eyes that seemed to be on fire, a hatred so pure that it made his heart hammer against his chest.

“how about you?” he responds like a spoiled child. “i can only imagine you running through the halls for days out of fear of seeing me. don't you think that's pathetic enough?"

her face heats up and her hands curl into fists, shame rising inside her chest because he was right. if she didn't care about him as she so wants to believe, she would have no reason to try to slip through his fingers, quite literally. or was it because…

“i did it because you are a lunatic!” she exclaims in an attempt to defend herself. “because i knew that if you saw me you… you…”

"me what?" he asks, exasperated. an inexplicable heat took over his body like an unknown disease. the sick search for some answer from her was almost as if whatever she said was going to answer something about himself.

“you were going to touch me again like you did in the library! you would get really close to me and say strange things! you should go to therapy urgently, minho, this is not normal behavior to have with a person you hate! with anyone even!” at some point in her speech, the passion and frustration rising in her head made her unconsciously move closer to him as if her words would get into his hollow head more easily, but when she came to herself their faces were just a few feet apart. inches away.

minho's breathing was now faster and he swallowed hard as his eyes reached her lips that were very close, too close. suddenly the uniform shirt was uncomfortable and was heating him up too much.

his breath is subtly shaky as he whispers to her “i don't hate you”.

she backs away, taking small steps until her back is against the wall creating distance between the two. the dim light from the single light bulb in the center of the room flickers slightly but then returns to normal, illuminating minho with a honey-yellow hue that makes his brown hair shine.

“how can this be, minho?” she whispers back in an exhausted tone. “so why have we been doing this for so long?”

he takes a deep breath, leaning his back against the shelf full of file boxes and runs his hand through his hair once more.

“don’t get me wrong” he starts after a long pause as if trying to get his thoughts together. “there are a lot of things about you that i don't like. your stubbornness, your inability to see beyond your own perspective, how you're so quick to judge and dismiss things without even trying to understand. and you are so mean as well-”

“do you want to make a list and give it to me or what, minho?” she explodes once more at him.

“your temperament too…” he sighs and stares at her deeply, making her become strangely self conscious as if she's being dissected by his eyes. “but i don't hate you, i just think you're easy to tease, and turns out i really like receiving reactions from people, it's not my fault you are so reactive”

“minho, you are pissing me off, shut up” she takes a deep breath and lets it out, but he doesn't back down.

“so why do you hate me?” he asks, ungluing himself from the shelf and stopping in front of it with a puzzled look.

“where do i start?” she says sarcastically but just looks up hoping that time is flying by and that soon sooyoung will come and get her out of that hell.

“i’m waiting” he says but she just rolls her eyes.

“because i hate you, minho. because i can't stand you, that's why” she replies exasperated.

“you hate me just for hating me? you're smart, y/n, i thought you could lie better than that,” he says, stepping closer little by little.

“why don’t you go fuck yourself, minho? you are so annoying, i can't stand to be around you!” when she exclaims the dim light takes hold completely and the dark consumes the room once more. she jumps slightly in fright at the sudden darkness, but soon remembers that lee minho is with her, and very close by the way. “if you come any closer you die, minho, i am not kidding”

she says that but she feels a warmth approach her face lightly, delicately, and when she hears him whisper a soft “boo” in her ear she takes a real fright and sinks even further against the wall she leans against until she feels him moving away once again.

the sound of the door opening startle her despite the light coming in is a relief.

“you were there for 20 minutes. already hate each other a little less?” sooyoung asks from the entrance and y/n wastes no time in pushing him out of the way with his shoulder in order to get out of that place as quickly as possible, but her arm is held and she is pulled in the opposite direction, facing him once again.

“what the hell do-” she starts to say but he cuts her off.

“give me your number” he says simply.

“what?” is all she can answer, but he is already taking a pen from his pants pocket and extending his forearm that is visible due to the sleeves.

“for us to organize things about the student council” he hands her the pen, but she makes no move to take it. “come on, take it here. what are you afraid of?”

the mocking smirk that appears on his face puts her nerves on edge again and she picks up her pen and wastes no time writing her number quickly on his skin, trying to ignore the fact that it's the only surface he had for her to write.

“do not bother me. ever.” is all she says before storming out of the small room like an escaped prisoner. she takes her cellphone out of her blazer pocket and quickly types to the only contact she usually texts.

y/n:

i'm going to your game, can you save me a spot in the stands?

any chance of being away from lee minho is a win for park y/n.

stay tuned for chapter 14! new chapters (almost) every sunday ☆

taglist: @liphglos@kiyoomimybeloved@lilactangerine @swiftlydirectioning @lethallyprotected @yhawnnzz @whatthefsposts@sleepyleeji @ddazed-lhs @thatoneperson1911 (if you want to be a part of the taglist, send me an ask, comment or message <3)

[ythmir-writes]

a moment for prince keith in silvio's route -

Or what if you were the palace guard assigned to prince keith and belle at That Moment

he just really went up and grabbed MC by the scruff of their neck and squeezed huh. not even kidding in the slightest. no simple i have my hand around your neck in a friendly (only slightly suspicious) manner because this isnt really a threat more of a warning type and i do not want to alert you. Nope. He just got up there and placed a forefinger and thumb where it wouldn't leave a mark, no one would be the wiser, but it will hurt. If he squeezed, it will be very painful.

Keith. Soft-spoken, well-mannered, seemingly unsure and recluse Jadean First Prince, went up to MC, grabbed their neck and said with the seriousness of His Title, the crown soon to be on his head, the weight of the entire Jade kingdom, the wrath of a man who does not like being manipulated, and asked MC if they were an Obsidian spy

can you just imagine being one of the guards during this scene? you've probably had some experience with nobles and their little jokes-gone-horribly-wrong. you're handpicked by no less than the devil minister, so you're trusted to be able to handle, to a degree, situations that can quickly escalate and leave one body unconscious. Or several.

So you're thinking as you receive your orders, your luck is turning up. Escort undercover Belle and the Prince around town? This is practically a day off. You've had guarding duties before and despite what most people think, it's a chore. Absolutely (sometimes literally) back-breaking if you're paired with a noble that can't sit still for five minutes. But this is Belle, you think, and Prince Keith. You've seen him around, especially with Prince Yves and Prince Licht. Aside from his imposing height, there was nothing to be afraid of. Not really. Not in any way that you think would put Belle under mortal danger.

So when Prince Keith moved closer towards Belle, you did what any good, obedient, discrete Rhodolitian palace guard would do and shifted your eyes away to give them some semblance of privacy.

Except.

There was no warning of any sort. No obvious shift in the mood that would have indicated Prince Keith as displeased enough to wrap a hand around Belle's neck. You moved too, body reacting reflexively on its own at the sign of danger to your charge, hand on the hilt of your sword, asking the Prince to let go and step away.

"It's a game." Prince Keith says. "We're just playing."

Everything in you tells you it isn't. "Prince Keith -"

"Don't." Gone is the reclusive demeanor, the gentle cloud you've seen on him. He looks at you and it is a physical force that stops you and the rest of the guards in their tracks. Your throat goes dry as you see the sheen of sweat on Belle's face, at the slight tension on their neck and the way Keith's hand was poised so accurately it was practically textbook. You look at the other guards, equally uncertain as to where they should stand. Duty tells them to obey a Prince. Duty tells them to avoid anything that would cause diplomatic issues. But doesn't duty also tell them to save one of their own?

You call out to Belle, ask them if they need assistance. All you needed was one word, even just a whimper asking for help. No matter Prince Keith's rank, Minister Sariel's orders were absolute.

"It's fine." They say, hand wrapped around Keith's wrist. "I'm fine." Their eyes were trained on Keith despite everything else of them seemingly trying to strain away. You want to ignore their reassurance because you know when someone is seized by terror

and Belle was petrified.