#some name dropping from the games that i was always pointing at the screen like: I KNOW THAT PLACE/NAME

[beaulesbian]

#i understood that reference

(part 2)

[sporadicbeans82]

Crack a Rib || Arsenal Women x Reader

Summary: You play through an injury, and some of your teammates (*ahem* Leah Williamson) aren't very happy with you.

Warnings: A swear word, mention of injury, unedited writing

Word count: 3.4k words

A/N: Wanted to get something out for tonight, and I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for the support on my last fic, I appreciate every single one of you :)

Playing professional football had always been some unattainable dream of yours. However, so had playing for Arsenal, your childhood club, both of which you were doing. You supposed you were achieving all of your dreams at this point, playing beside some of the biggest names that you’d grown up with and looked up to.

When you’d signed for the prestigious team over the Summer transfer window, you’d been extremely nervous. You hadn’t thought you were good enough to be a part of the team, and you’d been fearful that nobody liked you. On top of that, you were one of the younger members on the squad, and you’d been terrified of not fitting in.

However, all of your fears seemed to have been for nought, as you had become a part of the large family in record time. Soon enough, you’d adopt a “younger sister” role alongside Kyra Cooney-Cross and Victoria Pelova. The three of you were always playing pranks on each other and annoying your older teammates. 

There were several videos circulating the internet of your various shenanigans, one of which contained you hanging from a metal pull-ups bar as though you were Spiderman, and Kim Little could be heard lecturing you from out of the frame. 

As you’d gone to get down, your legs had slipped free of the bar and you’d cascaded down onto the ground with a cacophonous screech. Whoever had been recording– you were pretty sure it had been Kyra, had dropped the phone with how hard she’d been laughing and, as the phone screen cut out to blackness, you could hear Kim still lecturing you. 

The video was, of course, one of many, and you’d seen several different edits that fans had made of you from that singular video. To say that you were soaking in the attention would be a severe understatement, and the original video never failed to make you laugh or smile whenever it happened upon your phone screen. 

Throughout your time at Arsenal, you’d developed as both a person and a player. From someone who’d spent a large amount of their time on the bench to becoming a reliable substitute in the second-half of the game, your next goal was to gain a consistent position in the teams’ starting XI.

Now, however, you ran down the field, having been subbed on in the 62nd minute for Beth Mead. The match was against Ashton Villa and the two teams were tied at one point each, much to your disdain. You were determined to be the one who changed the scoreline, and the thought of getting a goal for the team spurred your legs on ever harder. 

The roar of the crowd in Meadow Park echoed in your ears, and you quickened your pace as you received the ball from Leah Williamson. The weather hadn’t been in your favor that night, as it featured harsh, cold wind and rain. The pitch, therefore, was slippery and wet, causing you to slip as you pivoted and nearly lost your balance. 

You could hear the wind whipping past your ears as you looked up, shifting your hips as you passed the ball over to another of your teammates who was open. Through the haze of rain and wind which pelted you, you could hardly see their face, but you thought that it was Kim Little.

You didn’t get the chance to see the ball go in, as just as the football left the inside of your boot, something collided with your front. The breath was knocked right out of you as you flew backwards, sent right off of your feet. 

You swore you heard something crack as pain burst from your abdomen. You landed on your back, rolling once as you quickly attempted to get back up on your feet. Your brain had yet to catch up with what had happened, and you were still intent on scoring the goal that your team needed. You only made it onto one knee before you nearly fell forward from the pain.

Your arms circled your abdomen, breaths coming in wheezing rasps as you let a groan come out from your parted lips. Your chest hurt, and black spots danced before your vision as you desperately tried to blink it away. You hardly caught the voices which surrounded you as someone helped you to lay back onto the ground. 

“Hey, you’re alright, take a breath.” You heard someone say– you thought it may have been Leah, but struggled to hear her over the pounding in your head. You felt almost nauseous as you fought to breath through the pain. 

Each breath felt like you were being stabbed, but soon you were able to gather enough breath to speak. You focused your words to whoever’s face was leaning over your own– Caitlin Foord. 

“Cait- Cait, did we score?” You asked, and you heard a few laughs at the question. Of course, the first thing you’d ask after being bodyslammed by a goalkeeper twice your size was football-related.

“Yeah, yeah we did! Nice pass, kid!” You heard someone else shout, and then heard a gasp.

“Don’t encourage her, Katie.” You heard Kim Little chastise the Irishwoman, and you coughed out a laugh which immediately sent you into another fit of pain. “Holy shit!” You cursed, barely able to get the words out. They came out as a wheeze, and you closed your eyes for a moment. You still had five minutes to go in the game, and however much would be added on in injury time. You knew that, even though your team had scored, Jonas had no subs left to use up. 

Ignoring the medical staff member who was trying to assess you, you sat up. Immediately, you felt your ribs decline the movement in a way that had you swaying, although you were just sitting up. You grunted, and heard someone tell you to lay back down. You ignored it, though, as you used your eyes to look at the trainer.

“I’m good.” You said, and the medic gave you a look of utter disbelief. 

“You need to be taken off.” They declared, and you were quick to shake your head.

“No, no I’m good. I just needed a moment, I promise,” As if to show off how good you really were, you stood up. The pain was awful, but you found that if you leaned into the pain and allowed your body to adjust to the way it smarted and ached and pinched, you could deal with it. “Seriously, I can continue.”

Your eyes met Leah’s, her blue eyes scrutinizing you as she looked you up and down.

“So… If I were to shove you in the stomach right now, you wouldn’t crumble down in pain?” Leah questioned, and you gave her a wild look.

“Of course I would, that’s a painful thing. Please don’t do that.” You answered, and Leah huffed out a breath. Then, she was giving a look to Kim as if to give her a shot at making you listen to reason.

You were walking away before your captain could get a word out. You made your way over to your position, eyes half-closed and ribs pounding in pain. You hadn’t even seen Villa’s goalkeeper coming and had had no time to brace for the impact of her fists against your ribs. You were sure that you’d cracked one or two, but the consequences of leaving the pitch instead of staying on and playing your role were too great for you.

You weren’t going to let Villa sneak in and draw or win the match. With that mentality in mind, you waited for the referee to start the game up again with a blow of her whistle. 

The searing pain in your ribs had you stumbling around on the side of the field, and you could feel more than one watchful pair of eyes on your form. As the match peeled on, your breaths became harsher and harsher, despite the fact that you weren’t moving much.

You were simply glad that the ball never came to you, as it seemed your teammates were entirely too aware of your predicament. You knew that if you’d given Kim the time to lecture you, you probably would have been taken off of the pitch to be assessed. As it stood, however, you were left on. 

You were okay until it was time for Arsenal to take a corner. Kyra was at the flag, ready to kick, and you felt someone’s hand on your hip as they marked you. You were in no shape to jump up and connect your head to the ball, and so you were glad to watch as it sailed far over your head and behind you. As you twisted, the pain which accompanied the movement nearly knocked you down onto your ass.

You sighted the football, however, as it ping-ponged between several different players' booted feet. The Villa players were having a hard time clearing their lines, and as the ball was knocked off of Leah’s thigh, it bounced down perfectly at your feet.

Moving purely on adrenaline, you tapped the ball and watched through tunneled vision as the football slid past the goalkeeper’s gloves and into the bottom left portion of the net. That seemed to be it for the Villa players, some of whom dropped to the ground defeatedly. 

The crowd around you was loud, and one of your own teammates came to give you a gentle hug around your middle. You grit your teeth to fight off the pain that the action caused you as more of your teammates bunched around, hugging each other.

Normally, the Arsenal women would hug out the celebration. This time, however, their touches were soft, with most of the girls patting your head and uttering soft congratulatory phrases in your direction. 

The game ended just as the ball was kicked back into play, something which you were incredibly grateful for as you folded in half. Your elbows met your knees as you tried to heave in a deep breath despite the protesting ache in your chest. 

You felt someone’s hands on your waist, their touch beginning to lead you towards the sidelines. 

“C’mon, you stubborn ass. Let’s go get you checked out.” You heard someone utter, and you figured it was Kyra. 

-----

A few hours later found you laid down on Leah Williamson’s couch. You’d showered and now wore one of Leah’s old Arsenal hoodies and a pair of comfortable shorts. 

The Lionesses’ captain refused to leave you out of her sight, now that they’d learned you’d broken your ribs and would be out for a couple of weeks due to the injury.

You’d been taken to the hospital to be assessed, as the medics were afraid that one of your ribs could have punctured something important in your body. Leah had insisted on coming with you, stating that you could hardly be trusted on your own. She wasn’t wrong.

Imaging results had confirmed that nothing had been damaged, other than your ribs, of which three had been broken. When you’d gotten your results back, Leah had rolled her eyes at you, and you knew you would have it in for your careless decision to play through your injuries. 

You’d been driving for a few minutes when Leah spoke up.

“What you did was idiotic.” Leah said.

You nodded slowly, unsure as to how to approach the conversation. Leah seemed oddly calm as she drove, but you knew she was upset with you anyway.

“I know, but I don’t regret it.” You said, after a few awkward moments of silence.

“You should. You can’t play through pain and injury like that. You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Leah responded, voice having an edge to it now.

“But I didn’t!” You protested, and you heard Leah let out a huff of air. 

“Not this time, no. What about next time? What if you had been more seriously injured? Do you have any idea how bad this could have been if one of your ribs had punctured your lungs? Your kidney? A blood vessel? People can die from those injuries, and you just played through it like it was no big deal? What if it had been worse? That was stupid, and you can’t do that or I will have you benched.” Leah’s voice was, somehow, still calm as she ranted, and you forced yourself to calm as well, before you said something that you would regret.

“But I wasn’t hurt that badly. People have played through broken ribs before, Lee. Hell, you would have played on your torn ACL if you could have, and you and I both know it,” you heard Leah start to protest, and cut her off before she could. “No, hear me out. You can’t treat me like a kid, because I’m not. Sure, I’m young, but I’m an adult at the end of the day. I know what I’m doing, and I know when to stop. I’m tough, Leah, you can’t just bench me because you disapprove of that.”

Leah allowed you to finish, and then she allowed the car to fall into silence again. You stared at the clock on the dash in the meantime, watching as one minute ticked by, then two. Finally, Leah spoke.

“You’re right– about being an adult. You are one, of course. You still have a lot to learn, though. We all know that you’re tough, you don’t need to put your health at risk to prove that to any of us. You should have allowed yourself to be taken off,” now, it was your time to try to protest, but a strict glare from Leah shut you up quickly. “You gave us the opportunity to score and get on top, and you should have trusted the team to maintain that lead. You risked your health and safety, and I will never be okay with that. No matter who it is, risking your health over the wellbeing of the team is never worth it. You should have been taken off, and I need you to promise me that you will start taking your health seriously from now on. If you are hurting, you will tell someone, and you will be taken off and checked out properly.”

“Leah-”

“No. Promise me, because we can’t have this happening again. You were hurt, and you could have made the injury more serious by continuing to play. Promise me.” Leah interrupted you, and you sighed. You knew that she was right, and while a part of you yearned to protest, you found yourself going along with it.

“Okay, I promise.” You sighed.

“What do you promise?” Leah prodded you.

“I promise to not risk my health for the team again.”

“Good.” Leah praised you, and you rolled your eyes.

The rest of the drive back to her place was silent. You didn’t even protest when she drove right past your house, knowing that she would be bringing you to hers instead so that she could look after you. This type of bond had developed when Leah had torn her ACL. You’d been by her side and had refused to leave, having played with her on the England Lionesses team. 

Even though you’d played for another team, you made sure to check in with Leah throughout her recovery process. You’d dropped by whenever you could, and had sometimes stayed the night. Sure, you were several years younger than the woman, and could be immature at times, but you knew how damaging an injury could be– not just to the body, but to the mind and soul. You’d suffered a broken bone in one of your first professional games, and it had kept you out for several months. Your recovery and the complications which arose within it had been demoralizing, and you probably wouldn’t have made it through without your friends and family by your side.

Because of this, you always made sure to check in with your teammates and friends, especially when you knew that they were struggling or that they’d acquired an injury. 

Even throughout your short time at Arsenal, you’d developed a reputation for doing just that. You checked in and hung out with many different members from Arsenal’s “ACL squad” and often made sure to make them smile and laugh with your antics and pranks. 

Therefore, it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that Leah’s house had been ransacked during your short stay at the hospital. Upon opening the door, several of your Arsenal teammates were wandering around the house.

Leah couldn’t bring it upon herself to keep the scowl on her face for long, especially as you two took in the players cuddled together on the various couches and seats in the living room. A movie was playing on Leah’s television– one of the Harry Potter movies, and several bowls of assorted snacks sat on the table. 

Lia looked up guiltily at Leah when the two of you walked in, and you knew instantly that the Swiss International player was to blame for this entire thing. 

“Welcome home?” Lia greeted, accented voice quiet and, albeit, a little nervous in the face of the grumpy English woman. 

Before Leah could get a word out, you grinned.

“Aww, guys you shouldn’t have. I knew you loved me!” You spoke sarcastically, resulting in several different players yelling and laughing. 

As you walked further into the room, you saw Kyra and Vic scooting aside, having saved a spot for you to lay down between them. Lia came up to you after you’d laid down between Vic and Kyra, your upper body propped up against Kyra while your legs had been picked up and put in Vic’s lap. The position was about as comfortable as it could have been with broken ribs.

Soon after you’d laid down, Lia was coming to check on you.

“How is your pain?” The girl asked, eyes focused on you in a concerned manner. 

“I’m good,” you said, and you were. The pain medication that you’d been given was helping, and you didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the chest with knives anymore… more like toothpicks. 

The other woman nodded slowly. Then, Lia was lifting your jumper and placing a pack of ice on your skin, the ice wrapped by a thin towel to avoid putting it on your bare skin. You still jumped and groaned, causing pain to arc through the rest of your body like wildfire. 

“Lia, don’t break her- oh, wait, she’s already broken!” Kyra couldn’t help but joke. If you’d been able, you would have elbowed the girl. As it was, someone else threw popcorn at the Aussie instead.

“Hey!” You heard Kyra shout as popcorn bounced off of her forehead.

Lia uttered an apology to you for causing you pain before stroking back some of the hair from your eyes. Then, the woman pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you smiled at her. 

The Swiss woman made her way back to her spot next to Leah. 

That was how you spent the rest of your night, bundled up and taken care of between Vic and Kyra. Later, Caitlin and Katie made an appearance, bringing even more snacks, and after that Laura, Lotte, Emily, and Alessia made an appearance as well.

Soon enough, the entire house was occupied by the entire team. The Arsenal women filled the area with laughs as they played board games and threw popcorn at each other, cuddled up and tired after the match. 

You and Kyra and Vic would get up to your old antics, giggling and creating even more inside jokes– most of them revolving around your newly broken ribs. 

The entire team would end up having a sleepover, and while Leah pretended to protest, you (and everyone else) could tell that it was just what she needed after the intense day that everyone had had. 

You knew that the next few weeks would be a struggle as you recovered from your broken ribs. However, just like before, you were sure that you would be okay because every single person in the room would be by your side throughout your journey.

[jymwahuwu]

I have an idea. A self-aware au. What if Jing yuan/Blade is aware of darling's affection for him since they would log in the game and just see him and just admire them that is until Genshin drops 4.1 trailer and saw Arlecchino and Neuvillette and now they're envious of these two taking away their darling's attention.

It's just an interesting idea tho. But in actuality I'd think neuvillette and him would be friends or somewhat

Hello, this anon has similar thoughts!! Put them together to answer >_< I think they will be really jealous of the genshin impact characters who are stealing your attention lol. Jing Yuan's jealousy is more harmless (seemingly), while Blade's is more aggressive (?)

This is my first time writing a self-aware AU, hope you like it!!

CW: yandere, self-aware au

Jing Yuan and Blade have their own lives.

When you're not with them, when you're not in front of the screen or looking at them with a smile or wonder. They are handling the work/tasks of the Seat of Divine Foresight/Stellaron Hunters. Blade, Silver Wolf and Kafka were practicing the new "destiny" script and took away another Stellaron. Jing Yuan is managing Luofu and attending meetings. How strange. Once you click on the space screen to enter the game, they can see your face. You organize your team and do daily tasks with them.

At first, they thought it was some kind of prank or a conspiracy, but over time they got used to it. In Elio's words, "The world is like a video game. No one can prove whether the world is real or false. Feeling the current destiny is the most important thing."

For Jing Yuan, he just got familiar with your personality. He confirmed that your presence would not put Luofu in danger, and that you acted like a cute kitten playing with a ball of yarn. You can control Luofu's General and Stellaron Hunter, and all you do is wander around Xianzhou and buy snacks to feed them, break every poor object on the way, fight to get some rewards, take the books on the table, etc.

You didn't forget to "build" them either. They watch you search for "Jing Yuan", "Blade", "build", "guide" and other keywords on the Internet, and take them to fight again and again to get materials to upgrade. Although they have actually participated in some wars and have terrible strength, what you see here is "lv 1-80".

You really like them, otherwise you wouldn’t pull, right? You even take photos of them while wandering around the map. Jing Yuan snickered when you took Blade to take a selfie in front of his wanted poster. The general is not shy about giving you a smile either. They know your admiration because you always take more than one photo.

Until… recently, they noticed that you weren't online as often. At one point, you log in again, and then, as if you thought of something important, you search "genshin impact" on Youtube (they know the name of the site) and start watching trailers and special programs.

What's this?

You stared intently at those…those people. White curly bangs, long hair like a waterfall, and his gorgeous and decent attire. The other man has short black hair. He punches enemies in live. A woman with short gray and white hair smiles confidently.

Jing Yuan opened his eyes wide, not expecting you to be so "frivolous" - did you plan to be unfaithful to him? You found Jing Yuan pouting at you in the game, but you thought you were hallucinating, so you gave him immortal's delight and puffergoat milk to comfort him. Blade clicked his tongue, crossed his arms in boredom, and stopped observing what you were doing on the other side of the screen. Silver Wolf and Kafka teased him about whether he was separated from the little player? Jealous? You're surprised to notice that his damage has been doubled. While on a mission, Blade almost lost control and killed a person on the script. His eyes as red as candlelight flashed, and he almost swung down the sword in his hand.

They are all looking for opportunities to get close to you. That part of Xianzhou's large computer installation called "loom" is running, investigating and analyzing you.

[jupitercomet]

The Trial Run: Chapter Eight

summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.

warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mention of throwing up, talks of parental death, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word counts - 3.3k

the trial run masterlist

Makayla: what are you doing now?

Bradley feels his phone buzz against the shiny, faux wood table at the casual sports bar he and the guys had chosen to watch the Phillies game. Normally Bradley would have been just fine watching the game at home, his mom had a pretty big television and she never tried to trick herself into thinking that her son wasn’t drinking while he was away at college so she didn’t care too much when the boys pulled out a beer or two.

But Admiral Simpson absolutely hated the mess, and didn’t care much for sports either, and with his return looming over Bradley’s head, he just didn’t want to deal with it. So he, Jake, and Javy decided to find a sports bar that was close by and watch the game there. His mom tried to assure him that it wouldn’t matter, but Bradley Bradshaw isn’t 15 years old anymore and he knows enough to know that just because his mom wants something to be true doesn't mean that it is. 

But the buzz of his phone pulls him from these thoughts and Bradley looks down to see Makayla’s name lighting up his screen. He types out a quick reply to her message, moving his thumb to press the send button before he hesitates. You always like when he sends pictures. Opening the camera quickly, Bradley shoots a somewhat awkward smile, angling to get some of the bar in the background before sending it off with a text.

Watching the Phillies game

Bradley watches the three gray dots appear as Makayla takes several seconds to respond. He’s almost anxious for her response, which he doesn’t fully understand because he knows he shouldn’t be. Something about talking to her always put him a bit on edge.

Makayla is a very particular girl. She has strong opinions on things and tends to make sure everybody knows them. Bradley isn’t blind to how sometimes unnecessarily cruel she can be—this whole date requirement being a prime example of it—but Bradley thinks that girls like her are allowed to be.

He lets out a breath when she still hasn’t responded, dropping his phone screen side down and letting the conversation die as Jake and Javy come back with their drinks.

“Has the score changed?” Jake glances at one of the many televisions pointed in their direction while Bradley shakes his head. All three boys have their eyes trained on the TV and Bradley lets out a small mumble of thanks when Javy passes him his beer. The only thing that draws them away from the Phillies game is Bradley’s phone buzzing on the table again. Jake grins when he sees Bradley scramble for it. “That the girlfriend?”

Makayla: right

Bradley clears his throat, looking up from his phone. “Yeah.”

“I gotta say, dude,” Jake continued to rib him playfully. “Your sister’s best friend? I did not see that coming.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to see him move on from Makayla,” Javy joins in the teasing, but Bradley can see how sincere his words are.

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Taking in Bradley’s expression, Jake scoffs in disbelief. “Come on, man. Sometimes I’m not convinced you even like her.” 

“What?” Bradley’s fingers clench defensively against his beer.

His eyes flit between Jake and Javy and, to his surprise, both boys seem to be in agreement, having noticed something Bradley wasn’t even aware of. What do they mean he doesn’t like Makayla? Of course he likes Makayla. It’s the whole reason he’s doing any of this.

“I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of.”

Jake’s words dump over Bradley like ice water, so chilling that, for a moment, he genuinely thinks someone’s poured beer on him. She’s exactly the kind of girl the Admiral would approve of. In some capacity, Bradley guesses that’s true. Makayla comes from a wealthy, established family, she was raised with the gender values Admiral Simpson wishes his mom had. Now that he thinks about it, Makayla’s probably the only person he knows who would not only survive, but enjoy a dinner with his stepdad.

Before Bradley can say anything to argue that of course he likes Makayla, a resounding crack rings out through the sports bar and the patrons jump up in excitement at the home run playing on the large TVs. Jake and Javy join them quickly, not nearly as affected as Bradley as he sits on his vinyl seat dumbly. He takes a long sip of his beer before shaking the feeling off and trying to forget everything long enough to enjoy the game.

Again, his phone buzzes on the table.

Makayla: also you should shave that mustache before you get back

Bradley purses his lips, the comment striking a cord in a way that has him locking his phone instead of responding to Makayla. Bradley doesn’t consider himself to be insecure—not in the slightest—but he’s finding it harder and harder to focus on the game, something nagging in the back of his head that he’s doing something wrong.

He uses the feeling of his cool beer bottle against his palm to ground himself, but he still finds himself shifting in his seat every few seconds, an uncomfortable itch overtaking him. From his peripheral, he catches his phone resting on the table. He can suddenly feel his keys inside his back pocket.

“I have to go.”

Javy and Jake turn away from the game in confusion—and truthfully Bradley also can’t believe those words just left his mouth. “What?”

“I just—” Bradley clears his throat, getting up almost frantically as he grabs his phone from the table. “I remembered I have to do something. Just— Tell me how it ends.”

With that, he’s leaving the table before Jake and Javy can even respond. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He’s barely had a sip of alcohol and feels confident to drive, but he stays sitting in his Bronco for several minutes anyway. Keeping his gaze trained on the steering wheel, Bradley tries to feel like he’s not swallowing rocks. 

He looks down to find his hands shaking and he bites down on his lip, squeezing his eyes closed. “Shit.”

He knows what’s coming. He can feel it, like that feeling when you’re about to vomit. Bradley shoves his palms into his eye sockets, leaning back in his seat until his head is touching the headrest. Tears prick at his waterline, even though his eyes are closed tight, and each one feels almost painful as his throat gets smaller and smaller.

Bradley all but throws himself forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. He keeps reminding himself that this will pass—it always does. But the waiting is the worst part and Bradley just can’t believe he’s trapped himself in the parking lot of a sports bar, hiding under the view of the windows as he waits to calm down.

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and he pulls at his hair as his breaths get sharper and quicker. The pain stings against his scalp, but it does little to distract him. Truthfully, Bradley should have known this was coming. It’s been looming over him since he stepped foot in San Diego and, if anything, he’s just grateful it happened when he was alone.

His fingers are still shaking, worse now, and his breathing pattern is entirely erratic. He tries to slow it down, but deep breaths feel like cement in his chest, and he just can’t. Bradley feels like a kid again, hiding in a stall in the boys bathroom until he was strong enough to come out. It’s the same quivering breath against his palms, the same stubborn tears rolling down his cheeks, he’s still that same kid. And he hates it.

Bradley hates that he’s not over this. Because he should be. A few words from his friends and a text shouldn’t be able to do this to him. But it does. And it is. And now he’s sitting in his car trying not to hyperventilate in the parking lot of a sports bar while his friends sit inside, none the wiser.

Bradley really hates coming home.

“Are you okay?”

Bradley needs you to stop asking him that every time you see him. Because you shouldn’t be able to tell that he’s not okay. The two of you only somewhat know each other and if you can tell that something’s going on, then he’s not hiding it as well as he thought.

“Fine,” he says simple, actively trying to ignore the worry in your eyes as you look at him.

He thought he waited long enough before coming inside to make it look like he hadn’t just been crying, but under your attentive gaze he keeps purposefully avoiding your eye so you don’t notice.

“Did something happen?” You try again gently. “I thought you were supposed to be watching the game with Javy and Jake.”

“I missed you.” The words come out before Bradley can process them, his own voice almost unrecognizable to him as he spits the words out instinctively.

Your lips part slowly and then he watches them curl up in a small smile. “It hasn’t even been an hour, Bradley.” You tease him, but it’s soft, as you take a step closer to him.

Bradley relaxes just slightly, allowing you into his space as some of his anxiety washes off of him. He nods. “Exactly. Too long.”

You smile again, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders while Bradley’s finds purchase on your hips. And then, just because he felt like it, he dips down to catch your lips, kissing you slowly. He tries to focus on the feeling of you, the softness of your lips, the way your nails scratch at the base of his curls every so often. Sighing against your lips, Bradley pulls you closer, his shoulders finally sagging.

“Okay, ew.” Giselle’s voice cuts the room and you pull away from Bradley quickly. Bradley honestly couldn’t give less of a shit about what his sister saw the two of you doing together, but you’re clearly embarrassed, looking down bashfully to hide your fluster.

Bradley shoots his sister a deadpanned glare. “Can we help you?”

“Oh, I was just looking for my best friend,” Giselle plops a grape in her mouth from where they’re sitting on the kitchen counter. “Making sure she hadn’t died or anything.”

Bradley grunts, the hand he still has on you squeezing your hip. “Well, she hasn’t.”

“Yeah, but she’s kissing you. That’s a fate worse than death.”

“Giselle,” you cut in before Bradley can respond. You and Giselle share a look, seemingly communicating to each other without words. Whatever your trying to tell her gets across because his sister sighs, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Fine,” Giselle nods and Bradley watches as she grabs another grape. Then she shoots you another look—equally unreadable to him—and you nod. “I’ll leave you to your sucking face then.”

Bradley waits for her to leave the kitchen before he looks down at you. “Sucking face?”

You smile slightly. “It’s a long story.” Turning back into his hold, you place your hands on his chest, smoothing down the fabric of his t-shirt. For a second, Bradley thinks you’re going to kiss him again, but instead you ask, “Is the Phillies game still on?”

“Should be,” Bradley glances at the stove clock. It’s only been an hour and a half, there was still a significant chunk of the game left.

Though, at this point, Bradley had no intention of watching it, he doesn’t say anything as you lead him around the house, grabbing your laptop from Giselle’s room and then heading into his. He’s still quiet as you manage to find—what may be an illegal—site to watch the game on, setting it up on the foot of his bed.

“Come on,” you pat the spot next to you and briefly Bradley thinks that you don’t look at all out of place in his bedroom.

He moves wordlessly to sit beside you, your thighs brushing only just as you both get comfortable on his bed. He doesn’t really know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, and you seem to show no signs of wanting to tell him, so all he can do is sit somewhat awkwardly next to you as he watches the small screen of your computer. 

You lean a bit closer to him. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what’s going on though.” There’s a small smile on your face and Bradley’s grateful that you finally seem to be picking up on the fact that he just wants to pretend that everything's okay.

“Sure, sunshine.”

Bradley finds himself getting more invested in the game as the minutes tick by, his episode in the parking lot slowly forgotten as he explains terms and players to you in quiet mumbles. By his third commercial break, Bradley’s starting to feel more like himself, his grip on his emotions tightening and his mood rising.

He glances at you next to him. You hardly notice, now drawn into the Phillies game with a concentration Bradley can’t help but find adorable. He looks at the way your biceps are pressed against each other and lifts his arm just slightly. It’s when he tries to raise his arm again that you turn to look at him.

“No way.” A large grin overtakes your face as you look between him and his arm.

Bradley furrows his brows. “What?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “You’re about to do the thing. You’re so about to do the thing.”

Bradley can only look confused. “What thing?” When you only laugh harder, he makes a face. “What thing, sunshine?”

“The thing,” you hardly elaborate. “You were about to do the yawn thing where you put your arm around me.”

“What?” Bradley pulls back slightly in defense. “No, I—” When you just shoot him a look, Bradley purses his lips. You laugh again.

“I cannot believe the Bradley Bradshaw pulls moves that cliche.”

“Shut up,” Bradley shoulders you good-naturedly. “Don’t girls like that shit?”

You snort. “Just admit you’re losing your touch, Bradshaw.”

“I’m losing my—” Bradley laughs incredulously. “Alright, fine,” he gets up, holding out his hand to help you off his bed.

Confusion flashes across your features as he helps you up, leading you out of his room, the Phillies game now forgotten. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you that Bradley Bradshaw can be very,” Bradley turns around to shoot you a teasing smile. “Very smooth.”

Bradley can firmly live in the truth that he is smooth, the expression on your face proof enough when he pulls up to an empty part of the beach. In the late afternoon, the ocean sparkles, crashing and ebbing against the shore and the breeze is just cool enough to make the beating sun bearable.

You hop out of the car quickly and Bradley takes his time grabbing both your bags as you lay out towels on the abandoned sand. For whatever reason—even after all these years, Bradley still doesn’t know—every time he’s visited this part of the beach, there hasn’t been another soul on it. In the back of his mind, there’s a thought that this might be because it’s private property, but Bradley hasn’t been caught yet, so he figures it’s fine.

He sets your bags down next to you, sitting on the towel next to yours as he looks out on the ocean. Taking a deep breath, Bradley lets the ocean air fill his lungs, finally letting the events of the day wash off him. Makayla’s text comes back to him though, nagging at his brain, and he lets out a small sigh.

He knew it was stupid to be that thrown about a comment about his mustache. Even thinking the words felt stupid. But to him, it didn’t feel stupid. There was very little that Bradley has left of his dad. He doesn’t have the house, or the garage, or that vintage popcorn machine. He doesn’t even have all the memories, a lot of them he was too young to remember.

But when Bradley first started growing facial hair, it felt like he had something else of his dad’s. It was an embarrassing mustache at first sure, Giselle and his friends teased him to no end, but it grew and he’ll never forget the day his mom looked at him and sucked in a breath. Because Bradley looked just like his dad.

And yes, obviously Bradley took pride in his mustache when most of his frat brothers could only grow patchy beards at best. But he liked looking in the mirror and seeing his dad—or the reminder of his dad. He liked knowing that no matter what, no matter the choices his mom made, or people like Admiral Simpson, he will always be Nick Bradshaw’s son. 

Bradley didn’t expect Makayla to understand that. How could she when he’s never said anything? But there’s something that stings about it, like she doesn’t get it. Bradley sucks in a sudden breath, a thought hitting him. Maybe no one gets it.

You shift next to him and Bradley’s so in his own head that, in a moment of insecurity, he turns to you. “Do you think I should shave my mustache?”

You look at him quietly for several seconds, the question hanging in the air as you cock your head slightly like you’re deep in thought. Bradley tries not to seem nervous as you examine him.

“Well, you should do whatever makes you happy, but I like your mustache.” You say finally, climbing into his lap and smoothing your thumbs along the hairs. “Feel like you wouldn’t really be you without it.”

“You think?” Bradley’s hands fall to your hips as you straddle his thighs.

“Yeah, it’s very Bradley Bradshaw.” You trace your thumbs along his mustache again and Bradley’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “And I happen to like Bradley Bradshaw.” You press a quick peck to his lips. “Very much.”

Bradley grins, relief flooding his veins, and he moves one of his hands to grab your chin so that he can kiss you again. “Well, I like you too, sunshine. Very much.” He rolls you down on one of your towels, being mindful of the sand, before deepening the kiss. 

This is not the first time Bradley Bradshaw has made out on a beach, but even Bradley can admit that this time is different. It’s not that rushed, sort of “teenagers hooking up before they get caught” kiss that causes Bradley to fumble with bra clasps and get sand everywhere. His hands aren’t rushing over your body, grabbing and squeezing like he doesn’t have enough time. With you, Bradley can’t help but go slow. Slow enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off your body. Slow enough that he can hear every sound he pulls from your lips. Slow enough that the thought of going any faster doesn’t even cross his mind.

Bradley pulls away from you suddenly, watching as your dazed eyes blink away to confusion. Still hovering over you, he looks down. “What was that? Oh—” Bradley meets your eye again with a cheeky grin. “My mustache says it likes you too.”

You blink at him as you process his words and then throw your head back with a cackle. “Oh my god. That was worse than the yawn thing!”

“Oh, you want worse than the yawn thing?” Bradley traps you under him, a smirk forming on his lips. “I can make it dance for you, is that what you want?”

“Do not— Bradley!”

Somewhere in his bag, under a spare t-shirt and extra towel, Bradley’s phone lights up with a text notification that remains unnoticed as he goes back to kissing you through peals of laughter.

I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold​​ if you want to be notified when I post

[zeegaazeegaah]

Hii, can you make a Gavi imagine about him being jealous or something like that, it would be amusing to read. I love your work, thank you!💕

A/N: Before I begin I request you people to not put imagines under his name tag. Someone recommended it. I really appreciate it but please keep the tags all fanfiction related (i.e. - imagine, - x reader, - blurb). I do not want what I do light-heartedly and as a hobby, to reach the wrong audience. Please. None of us want that.

xxx

jealousy; gavi

word count: 963

Gavi enters his house to see her shoes near the doorstep. One thing about his girlfriend is that she is very serious about cleanliness. Even though she never stays over, she makes sure to keep his house neat whenever she can. He had asked her to not bother but she insisted it helped her get her mind off things that stress her.

He is late today. She never really stays over for that long. Another thing about her is her seriousness about her future. She takes her uni life undeniably seriously. Always arrives at his home an hour or two earlier than him and gets as much studying done as possible yet she never misses a chance to spend time with him whenever she can. He admires this trait of hers.

Usually, they spend whatever time both of them have by cuddling and making out and have debate on silly things that don't matter but she always makes sure to leave his place before midnight. However, it's about 1 am and her shoes near the doorstep imply she is still there.

At the unusual sight, he tilts one head to the side, eyes narrowing while doing so. He is visibly confused. She would've greeted him normally but now she is nowhere to be seen. He slowly unzips his jacket and drops his backpack. Something tells him to tiptoe in his own house and so he does.

He tiptoes into the living area. He doesn't notice at first but then his eyes land on her head peeking from the couches. It's as if she was trying to hide from him but what he notices has his mouth wide open. She not only has his controller in her hands (he doesn't mind at all if that's what it seems like) but also has her eyes glued to the gigantic screen before her which shows what she is doing. She is not only playing FIFA but it seems she had bought Pedri before.

He lets out an amusing scoff, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall to watch her play for a couple of minutes more, initially assuming she would notice at some point but she didn't. She is way too immersed into the game.

This led him to walk up to her and plopping down on the couch as if nothing happened. To which, she jumps and turns the screen off before them like a reflex action. She lets out an awkward laugh and proceeds to make an awful attempt at acting normal. "Ah, you're back. I was waiting for you."

Gavi observes the entire ordeal. He is amused but he is equally jealous as well. He can't help it for some reason. She bought Pedri. Did she buy him? He sends her an overly sweet smile before turning the screen on and pointing at it, "Did you buy me?"

She grimaces before replying. "Well, if you know I didn't, why do you ask?"

The stressed expression on her face has to be the most adorable sight he has witnessed in a while. And that makes him even more jealous. Why'd his adorable girlfriend not only not buy him but buy his best friend?

He wiggles his brows at her, "Why Pedri?"

"Ew, dude. You're my boyfriend, what's with that face?"

"I'm merely curious." He shrugs.

"Well, I am curious. You talk about your best friend all the time and I wanted to observe his-"

"Through a game?" He cuts her off with a chortle.

"Yeah?" She narrows her eyes at him, not liking the way he is behaving. "Do you want me to go up to him randomly and tell him 'Hey boyfriend's best friend, can you show me some kicks?' like asking him to do a twirl for me?"

He bursts out laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach at some point as it starts cramping. "You could just show up at our practice one day-"

"Absolutely not." She flinches away.

"Why?" He presses on, curious to know the reason.

"It's awkward!" She exclaims as if it's the most obvious thing ever.

He finds himself breaking into a small smile. His eyes not leaving her face as his cheeks heat up. One of his hands reaches behind her back and begins to draw circles. Her eyes crinkle at the gentle gesture, a soft smile forming on her face as he looks back at him.

Then he remembers he was jealous just a moment ago and fakes a cough while leaning away. "You still should've bought me."

Gavi doesn't know his lips form into a pout as he says that. He is not aware of how cute he is and can get more so as time goes by. This time she looks at him amused and leans towards him. Her hands reach to clasp his larger hands in hers and draw on his palms. He looks down and can't help but smile before looking into her eyes. She holds eye contact with him before leaning to cushion his lips between hers.

It's soft when he tugs her bottom lip between his. He smiles when he has to chase after her lips every time she breaks away to either gasp or giggle. It's full of admiration when they hold their gazes the entire time and don't think of rushing for once. It's full of love and silent understanding when they finally break away and he envelopes her in a hug, resting his head on her shoulders. It's full of peace, even for just a short amount of time when she reaches to rake her fingers in his hair and his eyes close as he breathes in the smell of her shampoo.

He really can't stay jealous of her. Not at all.

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”

[sissylittlefeather]

I done did it again, y'all.

Suspicious Minds: Part 1

A/N: I watched the movie Argylle and was hit with some insane inspiration and I just couldn't control it. So, please enjoy the first part of this modern AU spy!Elvis x reader fic. I really wanted this to be a one-shot, but I hit 5k words at what I think is the halfway point and had to split it. I'm really excited to write part 2 for this one...

@ccab You know I love you so much. Thank you for screaming about this with me.

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, this is intense, gun violence, espionage, cussing, an erection, masturbation (female), kissing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I hope that's everything

Word count: ~5.5k

You adjust your glasses and look back at the computer screen. Your mom is always on you about not staring at a screen in the dark. She's convinced you'll ruin your eyesight, but it's not going to get any better, so why worry? Instead, you focus in again and go back to the hacking you've been working on for the past twelve hours. When you get in this mode, you don't sleep. For you it's like a game. You have a mission and you won't stop until you manage to finish it. You mainly do contract work for government agencies, cracking encryptions and writing code to secure against other hackers. But this was a private contract for a company you didn't recognize. Still, the money was unbelievable, so you took the job just as seriously, put on your EDM music, and got to work.

Now, 12 hours later, you throw your hands in the air in celebration. You finally got to what you were trying to get to. Your assignment is to download what you found onto a flash drive and deliver it to a lock box. But instead, you decide to take a peek at what you've uncovered.

It's maps. But they're maps with what look like targets and information that you're pretty sure you shouldn't see. This appears to be information that is vital to national security. You've done this kind of work before, but never for a private contract. You start to wonder if you should give it to the people who have asked for it. The flash drive blinks red to indicate that all of the information is saved. You eject it and hold it in your hand. Then, you set it on your desk and head to bed. It's 3am and the sunrise will be here before you know it.

******

You wake up with a hand on your mouth and scream into his palm.

"Sh sh sh... I'm the good guy. You're okay, honey, hush." You stop screaming mostly out of shock and he takes his hand off of you slowly.

"Who the fuck-" He puts his hand back over your mouth. Your eyes meet his blue ones and he's shockingly reassuring.

"My name is Elvis. I'm here to protect you. So please stop making noise." His southern drawl is comforting, for some reason. He moves his hand off of your mouth again. You whisper.

"Protect me from what? Or whom, I guess?"

"Where is the flash drive?"

"What?" Just then you hear your front door bust open.

"Goddamnit." He stands up away from your bed and you sit up frantically. "Get dressed, but don't make any noise."

He walks into the living room and you slide out of bed to the floor and crawl over to your closet. You grab some jeans and a bra and get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can, purposely ignoring the sounds of the struggle coming from the living room. But when you hear what sounds like a silenced gunshot, you gasp and run to the doorway. Elvis turns to you, having just shot a man who lays on your carpet bleeding.

"Go back in your room!" The other guy grabs him and punches him in the face, causing him to drop the gun. They trade hits back and forth and you watch. At one point, Elvis kicks the gun and it slides over and hits your feet. The other guy gets him in a headlock and he hollers to you.

"Throw me the gun!"

"The what?" You're so in shock that you can't understand the words he's saying.

"The gun! At your feet!" You look down and see it there, but your brain has a hard time making sense of what's happening. "Just pick it up and throw it to me!"

You pick up the gun and hold it in your hand. You've never held a gun before. It's heavier than you expected.

"Honey, throw it!" You look up at Elvis and he's struggling with the guy wrapped around his neck. You toss it gently and it lands about a foot away from him. He shakes his head at you and then grunts, throwing the guy over him onto the floor. You gasp as he grabs the gun and shoots the guy in the head. As the blood spreads over your floor, you inhale sharply and start to pass out. Elvis catches you and shakes you.

"Not yet, baby. Where is the flash drive?"

"The what?"

"The flash drive! With the information you downloaded from earlier!"

"Oh! It's on my desk." You walk to it and grab it, holding it up for him to see. He snatches it away from you.

"We need to hide this somewhere they'll never expect. Go get your dildo."

"My what?!"

"Your dildo, I'm going to-"

"I do not have one of those."

"Yes, you do. It's pink."

"How do you-"

"Not important! Go get it!" You purse your lips and run to your nightstand.

"It's a vibrator, not a dildo."

"Okay, whatever. Lemme have it." You hand it to him and he opens the end, dumping the batteries on the ground. He slides the flash drive into it and then closes it again.

"Wait... will I get it back?" He walks to you and put his hand on your cheek.

"Honey, stick with me long enough and you won't need it anymore." You blush. He's unimaginably attractive, but you try to ignore what he just said. "Pack a bag. We need to go."

You grab a duffel bag and throw some clothes and toiletries in it as fast as possible. Before you zip it up, he tosses the vibrator in the top and lets you close it.

"Wait. Why should I trust you?" He stops and turns back to face you, running his hand through his black hair in exasperation.

"Honey, I just killed two guys to protect you. You really need to ask that?" You shrug your shoulders and look up at him.

"I don't know you." He grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes.

"My name is Elvis Presley. I'm an agent for the good guys. I'm here to take care of you and make sure no harm comes to you or that flash drive of information you collected. I promise you can trust me. Now, we need to go. Are you coming?"

You look into his face for half a second and then nod. You're not sure where this is going or even how you got here, but you have no choice other than to trust this man.

You run down the stairs of your apartment building with him close behind you. He puts his hand on the small of your back and practically pushes you toward his car. When you get to it, your mouth drops open. It's a 1970 Stutz Blackhawk.

"Isn't this a little conspicuous?" You ask as you slide into the passenger seat. He gets in and closes the door, starting it up.

"It's too conspicuous. No one would ever think it's mine. What kind of spy drives a car like this?"

"Are you James Bond?" He laughs as he pulls out onto the street.

"No. Bond is British." You think it's interesting that that's what he chooses to prove his difference. Like everything else about them is the same. You look out the window as buildings flash by. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon and it hits you that you've only had a couple of hours of sleep.

"Where are we going?" You ask sleepily, yawning.

"Somewhere safe. But we won't be there for a while. You can go to sleep." You shake your head and try to stay alert.

"No. I'm okay." But you're not. Not at all.

"Honey, this is going to be a long road. You should rest while you can. I won't let anything happen to you." He reaches out and pats your knee softly. You look down at his hand. It's an unexpectedly kind gesture. The exhaustion sets in and you decide to trust that you're safe with him, for now at least. You lean your head against the window and close your eyes, sleep setting in before you have time to think of anything else.

******

You wake up and stretch. That was the strangest dream. It feels like you're on a couch though. You don't remember it, but you must've fallen asleep in the living room after finishing your work.

"You're awake."

You sit up suddenly. It wasn't a dream. He's real. You look around the room and try to figure out where you are, but your surroundings are completely unfamiliar.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe. Are you hungry?" The smell of bacon makes your stomach growl.

"Yes."

"I'm not much of a cook, but I made some peanut butter and banana sandwiches, if you want one." You frown.

"Why do I smell bacon?" A wide smile spreads across his face and a boyish charm shines through that you didn't expect from a hot shot agent.

"C'mere." You walk to the table and he sets a plate in front of you. On it is a sandwich with peanut butter, bananas, and bacon. You wrinkle your nose. "Just try it before you make that face."

You cautiously take a bite. It's better than you expected. Much better. You look up at him surprised and he holds his hands out.

"See! It's good!"

"It really is." He sits down next to you and you both eat your sandwiches. After a few more bites, a thought comes to you. "How did I get in here?"

"I carried you." He says it matter-of-factly like it's something he does all the time.

"Oh. What time is it?" You look around the room for a clock and realize for the first time that you don't have your phone. You must've left it in your apartment.

"It's a little after 2pm. You slept for a while."

The conversation continues and you make small talk. Once you finish eating, you work together to clean up the kitchen and then settle on the couch. It's very small, so you have to sit pretty close together. He turns on the TV and you spend the bulk of the afternoon there. For dinner, he orders a pizza and you sit together and eat awkwardly again. The evening passes in front of the TV and before you know it, it's time for bed. He stands up and walks from room to room.

"I'll be damned." He shakes his head frustratedly.

"What?"

"There's only one goddamn bed in this house. I'll have to sleep on the couch." You both look over at the tiny couch. It's essentially a love seat, so there's no way he will fit on there comfortably.

"Or I could?"

"No, you need to be in the bed behind a door, in case someone comes in during the night." You swallow deeply. That prospect is terrifying.

"O-okay, then. Goodnight..." He nods and you take your bag into the room with the bed. Once you have your pajamas on, you settle into the bed and the reality of your situation hits you. It's like the adrenaline from the day wears off and it becomes clear to you just how scary things are right now. The tears gather in your eyes and then start to slide down your face. Will your life ever go back to normal? What happens if these guys catch up to you? Before you know it, you're crying pretty hard, holding yourself and trying to breathe.

Elvis sits on the couch in the living room and tries not to hear you crying. He's been assigned to protect plenty of women, but there's something about you that makes him a little crazy. He shouldn't even think about what he's considering right now. Still, he considers it as the sounds of you crying come from the bedroom. It's torture for him to know how scared and alone you must be in there. He lays back on the little couch and tries to get comfortable.

"Goddamnit."

You're in the bed with tears on your cheeks when you hear the door open. You sit up quickly and see Elvis in the doorway.

"You alright?"

"No. Why the fuck would I be alright?! My life is literally in shambles. And I'm stuck here with..."

"With me?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I just mean... I'm scared. And I have no one." He sits down next to you on the bed. He almost whispers.

"You have me." You look up at him and he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheek with his thumb. You're not sure why he's being so sweet to you, but it's exactly what you need right now.

"Will you... will you stay with me?" He clears his throat and pulls his hand back.

"Oh... you know..."

"Never mind. It's okay." You look down at your hands in your lap and try to ignore the lump in your throat.

"Yes. I'll stay in here with you. It's probably better that I stay close to protect you anyway. And there won't be any sleeping on that couch. The bed is the better option." You look up at him and nod.

Yes, he's sleeping with you because the couch is too small. Not because he can't stop wondering what it would feel like to wrap his arms around you. You lay down and he lays down next to you without touching you. You reach over and turn the lamp off.

"Well, goodnight." He looks over at you in the dark.

"Goodnight, Elvis."

You both lay there silently trying to fall asleep. It takes a while, but eventually you drift off.

******

In the morning, you wake up with your back pressed against him and his arm around you. You don't think anything of it really until you feel him. He has a massive erection and it's currently pushing up against you. You start to giggle uncontrollably and your movement wakes him up.

"What's going on? Why are you laughing?"

"Y-you..." You get out in between giggles. "I can feel you..."

"Fucking hell." He rolls away from you quickly, but it's even more obvious when he's on his back. "Goddamnit. I'm sorry."

He sits up on the edge of the bed facing away from you.

"I'm sorry. I just... it's morning... God..." You're laughing so hard that you can hardly breathe. He stands up and walks quickly to the door, muttering as he goes. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

He leaves you in the room laughing and hoping that he doesn't sleep on the couch.

The day passes slowly and awkwardly with the two of you eating sandwiches and watching TV again. Around noon, you decide to take a shower.

"I'm not sure that's smart."

"Why not?"

"I can't protect you if I can't see you." You roll your eyes.

"I've been fine this whole time. I think I'll be okay for a twenty minute shower." He thinks for a minute.

"Leave the door cracked."

"What? No!" He sighs, exasperated.

"I won't look. I'll just be able to hear you and get in fast if anything happens. Otherwise, no shower."

"Okay, fine."

You leave the door cracked and get into the shower, looking in the mirror to make sure he isn't watching. He's nowhere to be found, so you relax and let the hot water wash over you. It feels so good running down your skin, cutting hot pathways on your shoulders and thighs. Suddenly, a thought wriggles its way into your brain and won't go away. You imagine him in the shower with you, pressed up against your back. What you felt this morning is hard to ignore and you wonder what he looks like without his clothes on. You think about his hands running over your body and before you know it, it's not the shower making you wet. You peek in the mirror again to make sure Elvis is still not looking. When you're satisfied he's not there, your hand slides down the front of your abdomen until your fingers find your clit. You begin to make circles and think about his mouth. He has a beautiful mouth and the thought of it pressed to you as his tongue makes circles on you just about drives you wild. You slide a finger into yourself and pump it in and out as you continue to rub over and around your sensitive bud. Then, you imagine him on top of you, slamming his cock into you and without thinking, you moan.

"Elvis..." You say it quietly, but it's loud enough for him to hear it with the door cracked. He stands just outside and looks in the mirror to make sure you're okay. He can see the outline of your body through the foggy glass shower door. That's when he realizes what you're doing and swallows hard. When you cum, hard, on your own hand and say his name again, he almost loses it.

He cannot be having these thoughts about you. Sure, he's had sex with girls on missions before, it's practically his trademark, but something about this feels different. He doesn't want to fuck you. He wants to make love to you. And that thought terrifies him. He peels himself away from the door and goes to sit back on the couch. His erection is back, but there's not much he can do about it right now, so he tries to think of anything else to make it go away. He's dying to go into the other bathroom and do exactly what you just did, but he can't leave you alone. Instead, he tucks himself up under his belt quickly when he hears the water turn off.

"FUCK." He hits the couch next to him and then sits with his head in his hands. This cannot be happening.

"Are you okay?" He looks up at you quickly, standing there with your hair wet.

"Mhmmm. Yep, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You think to yourself that he looks like he's about to cry.

"Well I am. Let's just... watch TV, okay?"

"Okay..." You sit down on the couch next to him and spend the rest of the afternoon watching TV. What you don't know is that Elvis is in misery being so close to you without touching you. And what he doesn't know is that you want him to touch you more than anything in the world.

******

Finally, evening comes and you start to get hungry.

"What's for dinner?"

"Well. I'm kind of a one-trick pony in the kitchen. I don't think you want another sandwich." He seems to have relaxed after whatever happened earlier.

"I can cook."

"Or we can just go get something."

"No, I'd like to cook for you. As a thank you for protecting me." He tries not to give himself away by how he looks at you, but the tension between you is palpable. "Can we go to the store? Is that allowed?"

"Yes, that should be fine. If they knew where we were we'd know it by now."

You get back into the Blackhawk and make your way to the grocery store. You're in a small town away from where you live, so there's only one store. Elvis stays close to you as you wander the aisles for what you need to make dinner. You also grab some essentials. He's not sure how long you'll have to be at the house, so you get food to keep you sustained for at least a few days. Once you've gotten everything you need and checked out, you make your way back to the house and get to work in the kitchen.

He watches as you move around gracefully and longs to put his arms around you. You notice him staring and decide he needs a task.

"Get over here and chop something."

"Yes ma'am." He salutes you jokingly and you set him up with some peppers.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My grandmother. She was an amazing cook. I spent summers with her when I was a kid, so she was able to teach me."

"That's nice."

"What was your family like? Or can't you tell me?"

"I probably shouldn't." You nod. It makes sense that he can't divulge any personal secrets. But he just can't seem to tell you no. "Fuck it. I was very close to my mother growing up. There were a lot of times when it was just me, her, and the shirts on our backs. My father worked a lot. And then she died when I was 23. I had just joined the army."

He gets very quiet and looks down at the vegetables he's chopping intentionally. You walk over and put your hand on his arm gently. The contact makes his heart jump.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He looks down into your face, his eyes flicking between yours and then down to your mouth momentarily. It takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss you.

"Thank you. Anyway I joined the military and was recruited by... who I work for now... and the rest is history."

Finally, the food is ready and you sit down to eat together again. He's impressed by your culinary skills and spends the next few minutes gushing about how good dinner is. The conversation continues and you talk about everything and nothing. Somehow, you make your way around to talking about music.

"Here's a fun question: what do you like better, singing or dancing?" He asks you as the meal comes to a conclusion.

"I'm not much of a singer, but I also don't dance, so I'm not sure how to answer that question." You respond and he laughs.

"You don't dance?"

"Well, I never really have before. Haven't had much opportunity. I was too big of a nerd to go to high school dances and in college I pretty much kept to myself."

"Then, it's not that you don't dance, you just haven't yet. We need to fix that." You're surprised by his enthusiasm, but he's eager for an excuse to touch you. He turns on the radio and finds a station with a good song.

"Really, it's okay. I don't really want to dance."

"C'mon, it's not hard." He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to him. You both breathe deeply and he takes your hand in his. He moves you around the room effortlessly and your embarrassment melts away. The feeling of his arm around you is enough to distract you from anything. He dips you and spins you and before you know it you're both laughing. Eventually the song ends and he holds you close to him and looks down into your face. The next song is a slow one, so he begins to sway gently.

"See, dancing's not so bad."

"No, it's fun with you." You look up at him and his eyes flick down to your lips. He wants to kiss you. You can tell. And you want to let him.

He slowly leans forward, hovering above your mouth with your noses touching. It seems like he's trying to decide something. Eventually, he moves the slightest bit forward and presses his soft lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet one, and he kisses you again like this several times. The fourth time he kisses you, though, he parts your lips with his and dips his tongue into your mouth. By this point you've stopped dancing and both of your arms are around his neck, with both of his around your waist. The heat between you picks up as your mouths move together in a rhythm.

Suddenly, he stops and pulls away from you. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

"Y/n, I can't. I can't do this."

"Oh... okay..."

"I'm sorry. You should go to bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Okay. I'm sorry if I-"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." You nod your head and walk away from him to the bedroom. After closing the door, you change into your sleeping t-shirt and crawl under the covers. The bed seems lonely without him.

In the living room, he paces back and forth, sitting down periodically. He's going through everything in his mind and trying to convince himself that there's nothing there for you. That he can reasonably fuck you and then move on like he always has. But these thoughts are invaded by other ones: the sound of your laugh, the softness of your smile, the grace with which you moved around the kitchen, and your voice saying his name in the shower. He's never been so frustrated by a woman. He starts to get a little angry. What is it about you anyway? Who are you to come into his life and interrupt it like this? He has a job to do. You're the one being all distracting and unprofessional. He needs to set you straight. You need to know that this is completely inappropriate.

You're almost asleep when the door opens dramatically. You sit up on the side of the bed and Elvis stomps over to you and sits next to you.

"You know why I can't do this, right?" He asks aggressively. You're not sure where this anger is coming from.

"Yeah, it's your job-"

"It is my job! My job is to protect you, not... this... whatever this is..." He gestures frantically to the space between you.

"Elvis, I'm not sure why you're yelling at me." He yells even louder.

"Because! You're making me feel things I don't want to feel!" He looks at you desperately, chest heaving. Your heart is pounding.

"I'm-"

His lips crash into yours with a feverish need. Everything he's just said goes out the window as his hands run over your body and he kisses down your neck. You whimper and he groans with the intense passion. He pulls your t-shirt up over your head and off, tossing it to the side. One hand immediately goes to your breast while his mouth explores the opposite nipple. Your hands are in his hair as he works, your head thrown back in pleasure. The sensation of his lips on your breast is exquisite and you moan as he lightly pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your fingers go to the buttons on his shirt and you fumble with them for a while before he just rips it open and lets you push it backwards off of his shoulders.

He lays you down on the bed surprisingly gently and kisses down your stomach. The only thing separating you from him is your white cotton panties. He sits up on his knees, erection stretching the fabric of his pants, and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. His eyes search yours for permission and you nod slightly as a smile spreads across his face. He pulls your panties down your legs and off and then presses his lips to your ankle. Pushing your legs open, he drags his finger up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Can I make you feel good, baby?" He asks as he makes circles on you.

"God, yes, Elvis, please." You whine as he settles between your legs. He starts by pushing his tongue into you and then licking up either side of your sensitive bud. You need him to touch the right spot with his tongue so badly it almost hurts. Your legs shake with desire and he hovers about an inch away from you. You feel his breath on you and it feels like you might die with how close he is. Then, he very softly flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Fuck! Elvis, please!"

Your back arches and your hips buck as you practically beg him. He continues to flick your clit with his tongue, though, adding a little more pressure each time. With each flick of his tongue, the blood rushes to your core and you feel your climax building. Finally, when you're about to scream and your orgasm is just seconds away, he dives in fully, licking your pussy with the entirety of his tongue.

"OH FUCK, ELVIS!" Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train, setting off fireworks all over your body as the pulsating waves of pleasure crash into you. He licks you through your release until you come back down to earth. Then, he sits up and wipes his face with his hand.

"I want- no, I need to make love to you. Please let me make love to you." You sit up and unbutton his pants, pushing them down to free his cock. He grunts as you take him in your hand and pump him, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"What are you waiting for?" You whisper. He moans deep in his throat and leans forward on top of you, kicking his pants the rest of the way off. Holding himself in one hand, he teases your clit with his tip and then lines up with your entrance. He begins to push into you slowly, giving your body a chance to adjust to his size. You feel every inch of his cock as he enters you and it fills you up perfectly. Once he's pushed into you fully, he slides almost all the way out and with a slow, deep roll of his hips fills you again. He continues to thrust into you, slow and deep, over and over. His rhythm is steady, his pace dramatic and soulful. You begin to moan softly each time his hips meet yours and he grunts in reply. There's something overwhelmingly sexy about how he's taking his time, filling you, pulling back, and then slowly filling you again. Sweat drips down his face, gathers on his chest, and wets his hair on his brow, matching your own. The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He reaches down to hold one of your hips, thrusting somehow even deeper than he already was. With every pump, his dick rubs against your g-spot and the slow pace has you dancing on the edge of another orgasm. Just when you think the lovemaking can't get any sweeter, he leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. Then he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. All the while, he's still sliding in and out of you, pushing deeper with each thrust.

"Goddamnit, baby. You feel so good." He kisses you again and his pace speeds up the slightest bit. Every time your hips meet, it feels like the next thrust will send you over the edge.

Without pulling out, he rolls over on his side and brings you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He goes back to thrusting, increasing his speed, but not changing the depth of his strokes. Your eyes meet and his blue ones search yours for something. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you hope he finds it.

"Y/n, I- FUCK." He's interrupted when the coil of his orgasm snaps and he cums hard inside you, closing his eyes and shuddering against you. His release pushes you over the edge and you tumble into oblivion with him, pulsing and fluttering around him. He presses his forehead to yours again as he pumps weakly a few more times and then pulls out of you. Kissing your lips, he rolls over on his back and pulls you onto his chest.

"What were you going to say?"

"Hmm?"

"Right before you came. You were saying something."

"Oh, it was nothing." He thinks to himself that it absolutely was not nothing, but he was probably just caught up in the moment. It doesn't need saying now.

You nod and snuggle into him, hoping he doesn't try to go sleep on the couch. He doesn't, thankfully. He stays right there in the bed with you. He knows it's stupid and inappropriate, but he no longer cares. Maybe you'll be stuck together in the safe house for a long, long time. This is his last thought before you both drift off to sleep.

******

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of Elvis wrapped around you, both of you still naked. You're just about to revel in the closeness and daydream about what you'll do stuck in the safe house today, but Elvis sits straight up in bed.

"What-?"

"Shh, honey, hush." He says it quietly and you start to get scared. "Someone's in the house."

He jumps out of the bed and grabs his pants, pulling them on without buttoning them, and gets his gun from the nightstand. You don't even remember him putting it there.

"Get dressed, quickly and quietly." You nod and slide out of the bed, gathering your clothing and slipping it on silently. He positions you so that you can't be seen from the door and then opens it, gun in hand.

"Ah, Agent Presley. You're awake."

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things

[littlemissaddict]

No point or plot to this, it's just a silly little idea that my brain would not let me let go of. Shy!Reader falls asleep on the couch and her shirt rides up exposing her ass and Eddie makes sure to cover her up before company arrives.

Word Count: 1148

Eddie let himself into their shared apartment, closely followed by Steve, or he was until he spotted her lying on the couch. It seemed she had fallen asleep in front of the tv watching a long since finished video if the static screen was anything to go by.

"Hey, wait here a second, okay" Eddie spoke, sticking his left arm backwards and stopping Steve in his tracks. Steve gave him a confused look but complied with Eddie's request instead watching him venture further into the apartment albeit a little more quietly this time.

He crossed the room in a few long strides over to her now seeing fully what he'd only glimpsed from the doorway. Her oversized shirt had ridden up her back while she'd slept, leaving her ass exposed to the room as god knows the tiny panties she had on did little to cover her. It was also the reason he'd stopped Steve before he'd crossed the threshold knowing how embarrassed she'd be if she knew anyone other than Eddie had seen her like that because even though he'd managed to get her to admit that nudity wasn't as bad as she'd been made to believe, she still had a hard time with anyone seeing her bare including Eddie occasionally. Reaching for the blanket she always kept over the arm of the couch, mainly because she always seemed to be cold, he laid it over her body to cover her and her modesty before Steve's voice pulled him back to the present.

"Hey man everything good"

"Yeah, yeah you can come in now" he encouraged, crouching beside her and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, smiling when she sighed softly in her sleep. After he straightened back up, he turned to find a bemused looking Steve who looked as if he was going to tease Eddie. "Don't even think about it, I'm just being a good boyfriend and making sure shits not on display that's for my eyes only" he scolds ushering Steve out of the main room and into the spare bedroom that was used instead as their own mini library/recording studio/games room and general storage room for all their belongs that didn't fit anywhere else in the apartment. It wasn’t ideal but it meant that they wouldn't wake the sleeping girl on the couch because Eddie thought she'd been overworking herself lately and was glad she was getting some rest which she clearly needed.

When she awoke, she could hear the muffled voices from elsewhere in the apartment and when she tried to move she felt her legs tangled in fabric. Body still heavy with sleep she reached down clumsily to find the blanket dropped over her lower body. Funny, she thought, she didn't remember pulling that over her and then she realised the tv was now off but that was definitely on, she vividly remembers that Ferris Bueller's Day Off was playing on the now black screen, which means only one thing - Eddie was home.

She mumbles his name as she fumbles with the blanket, finally freeing herself from it and she stands, feeling the shirt fall to her mid thighs as it now registers to her that the muffled voices she can hear belong to Eddie and Steve. Padding her way across the room to the closed door where the voices are coming from, she screws her eyes shut as the brightness of the overhead light hits her eyes especially as it's much brighter than the lamp light in the room she's come from. She says his name again as she rubs her eyes, willing them to adjust to the light quicker than they are.

The voices stop as both boys turn to look at her in the doorway and Eddie smiles, opening his arms towards her as he speaks, "there she is, my sleeping beauty" she lets him wrap her up in a hug as he pulls her into his lap and her head drops to rest on his shoulder.

"How long was I out" she asks, voice quiet and still groggy from sleep.

"Well we've been here, what an hour or so?" He asks, double checking with Steve who confirms Eddie's statement, "and you were flat out then so a while I'd say" he finishes and she nods against his neck as she feels his warm hands pulling the shirt down her thighs, covering the skin where it had ridden up once again, this time from when she'd sat down.

"And you covered me up?" She asked, even though she knew the answer was more than likely going to be a yes and while she was expecting the answer to be from him, Steve answered for him.

"He sure did, had me wait in the hall until he was sure you were decent" Steve nodded, even though she couldn't see it from where her face was still buried in Eddie's neck as she still hadn't adjusted to the brightness of the lights fully.

"Thank you" she mumbled, voice muffled and Eddie felt her words more than heard but he understood anyway.

"Anything for you princess" he reassured, his voice soft as it always was for her as he brought a hand up to brush through her hair, sharing a moment together almost as if they'd forgotten Steve was there. "We didn't wake you did we?" He asked, worried for a second that they had disturbed her much needed sleep.

"Nope, m'hungry is all" she replied with a shake of her head and then as if on cue her stomach rumbled.

"Yeah it seems it, how does pizza sound?" He laughed and she nodded her head eagerly. "Steve?" Eddie inquired, confirming that he hadn't forgotten about him but as he looked over at the other boy he found him glancing at his watch.

"It's getting late, I should be heading out" he said with a shake of his head as he looked up from the watch, "another time though" he added and Eddie nodded in understanding.

"You sure, you can stay" she spoke, a pout on her lips as she finally lifted her head out from the crook of Eddie's neck now that she was a little more accustomed to the light. Steve only nodded in response, a small reassuring smile on his face.

Her focus was pulled away from Steve when Eddie's hands tapped against her thighs, "come on then sweet thing, let's see Steve out and then we'll order pizza" he encouraged, waiting for her to stand before the two boys followed, saying their goodnights before he left which left the two of them alone.

"You want your usual" Eddie laughed as her stomach growled again and she nodded, settling herself on the couch again with the blanket while she waited as Eddie placed their order, hoping that she didn't fall asleep again before it arrived.

[chrollohearttags]

OMG I cant stop thinking abut musician!Eren and influencer!turned rapper/singer!reader. I read one of ur posts where Eren makes a diss track. But imagine when the media gets a hold of the breakup!!!! All these rappers come out tryna get readers attention and it’s absolutely KILLING EREN!

I feel like reader probably was good friend with a couple rappers and they all hop on a track (not to diss Eren or anything) but the reader is kinda just having a little fun doing things she has never done before!

Musician!Eren and his homeboys probably out chiling when reader and a bunch of rappers come up on TV that’s talking bout the hot new track and music video that was just released and the world going dumb for reader rapping!!

no I don’t think you understand how good this is omg!!! I love this so so much!!! 😭🙏🏾

so (y/n) and eren end up having a less than amicable split (could be conflicting schedules, him being selfish, you doing something he didn’t like, etc. who knows…for the sake of this, we’ll say he’s at fault!) but either way, y’all go your separate ways and obviously, it stings for both of you..neither of you take it well in the beginning. You’re on Instagram throwing subs through your story and he’s doing what he does best: hopping in the booth, channeling his pain. But the one thing you hadn’t bet on was the amount of other artists who were waiting in line for something like this to happen. You’d hear whispers of your name being dropped in songs or referencing your dancing…little things, nothing major. To help you cope and kind of get over your obvious heartache, you get a call from some of the rappers that your ex has collabed with in the past, or mutual friends of you guys. Not to be shady or anything, but just to help you vent your frustrations. You were never one for taking your personal problems to the net but when you hear his new song, you can’t help but sense some hostility in his lyrics towards you. Things you’d never imagine him ever saying to you and it makes you upset, to the point that you even find yourself crying on the shoulder of one of these other musicians (probably another female rapper tbh) and at that point, they know what must be done. “Girl, fuck that nigga. You better than all that. Tell you what, come hop on my new song with me, let’s have fun.” And you’re so nervous! Like looking crazy because you’ve never done something like that. “I’m not a rapper. I can’t do that.” “Girl, anybody can do anything if they set their mind to it.” But there’s always room for new beginnings..so reluctantly, you start penning down some words that express your pain and even some things you’d always wanted to talk about. It’s summertime and the ladies need a new anthem. You and your friends are all in the studio with the rap girls as well and y’all are just having fun! No drama, no beef, none of that sad shit either. “Baby, we outside this summer. Shaking ass, living life..we gotta give the girls something to turn up to.” And from there, that’s all you need! You start writing a verse and with a little help from the professionals, you go in that booth and lay it down. Not even thinking about whether it sounds bad or good. You just brag on yourself, on your fine ass friends and how y’all are the baddest bitches walking. Eren or any other man is an afterthought by the time you finish! a couple weeks pass and even though you’re still healing, it’s getting easier not having him around. Meanwhile, Eren decides to go out to the club, more than likely against his will but he needs a distraction. But that doesn’t last long when he sees a screen playing a video with a bunch of women down at Miami Beach dancing. That’s when the DJ says something he’d never thought he’d hear in a million years: “this that new joint, the new summer anthem from (insert rapper name) and (y/n) (l/n)! And let me tell y’all, the rap game gotta a new problem. Let’s play that shit.” And when he hears your voice, flowing on the track like you’ve been waiting your whole life to do this, he’s stunned. His homeboys are starting at him, hitting his arm. “Bro, you hear that shit?! What the fuck? Why ain’t you tell us your girl could spit like that?” But he’s equally as shocked as they are. He’s confused and as your ex man, he doesn’t even want to look at you. But as an artist…his interest is piqued! Either way, it’s the perfect excuse to hit your line. “I gotta go make a call real quick.”

[sashi-ya]

月が綺麗ですね > 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚝?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 ᴅᴀʏ sᴇᴠᴇɴ > ᴛʀᴀғᴀʟɢᴀʀ ʟᴀᴡ x ɢɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

♡ request: Anonymous asked: May I request day 6 or 7 w/ Law for your event? I'm afab and use she/her pronouns. If you wanna go with something more gender netural and use they/them, that's cool too 👍. ♡ tw: a spinoff of my first ever fic posted in tumblr! so I hope you all enjoy this ittle story. Sweet. nothing triggering really. perhaps Law being a little sick ٠wc: 905 ♡ masterlist ٠taglist: @zella07 @jin-supremacy01 @alexkanroji @jenwooly |

Law shivers. His temperature is way over the normal numbers. He sweats and tosses in bed. A fever has put the best surgeon out of the game, and you, his personal nurse, is there to take care of him. 

You change the wet towel over his forehead from time to time, and he flashes his sweet golden eyes at you in sign of being thankful for it. But he is drenched in sweat, and you are worried he might be going through a severe infection rather than "a simple flu" as he said. 

"Law, your fever isn't going down… we should call Marco" you suggest, whispering to your best friend. 

"No! I'm fine! It's just the flu!" He protests, with nothing but misery in his speech. 

You try to convince him that this isn’t ok, but he is reticent to it. And you are used to it, he will always take care of others but never of himself. In any case, you have a plan; waiting for him to fall asleep to finally call Marco -his colleague- to assess him. 

But, as Law seems to be finally asleep, and you stand up to go call dr. Marco, he pulls from your hand. “Stay” he murmurs, pulling as hard as he can, even if the snatch isn’t strong enough to stop you from walking away. 

You sigh, it breaks your heart to see him so miserable. “Law… Do you need something?” you ask, biting the inside of your mouth. He has been your crush for so long, but he doesn’t know… he mustn’t know. 

“Stay… I need you to stay” he begs, pulling you to sit right next to him. “Fine, I’ll stay…” you whisper, helping him snuggle back into the bed. You softly caress his cheek, noticing that they aren’t as hot as they were before. Maybe the fever is going down after all. 

Law closes his eyes, as he crawls up to your lap. His face pressed against your leg, his hands squeezing your flesh. He doesn’t want you to leave, and he will grip tight to you to prevent it. 

“I’m sorry (Name)-ya, I know I look weak… but I need you” he moans. And you simply smile, you wouldn’t leave him even if he asked for it. And, with soft circular motions on his back, you lull him to sleep back again. He is, at this point, like a little child and you are glad to be the one taking care of him. 

You take a look through the window, the snowflakes become bigger the more the night approaches and as the temperature outside drops. Both were on vacations at the mountains, and Law didn’t wear proper clothes the first days resulting in his current situation. 

You think of how many people asked you already if you were a couple, because being on vacation with your male best friend alone was something unbelievable for them -or maybe it was just the fact that you two actually looked more like a couple than friends- 

The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. A message from Bepo lights up the screen. “How is the captain doing? Is he feeling better? Do we need to send an ambulance?”  the white haired young man asks. 

You suppress a laugh. Bepo has been friends with Law since forever, and, for some reason he still calls him captain. Apparently, that was the name he got when playing pirates back in the day. “It’s ok, Bepo. He is doing better. He is asleep now, I’m trapped by him so I don’t go away from him” you type, and just when you press send, Law pulls you down as hard as he can. Your phone flies away and you end up on top of him.

“L-LAW!” you scream, trying to stand up. But, his tattooed arms trap you against him. He grunts and nuzzles on your hair, breathing your sweet perfume like the last drop of oxygen in the air.

You shiver, you can’t move. Whether he is awake or not, you notice how hard he is hugging you. And so much he does you end up curling next to him. You move so that you finally face him, and he allows it. Noses so close, feeling the other’s warm breath against your lips. 

Blinking fast, as fast as your heart has begun to beat. Why does he have to do this to you? He doesn’t know how much you love him, or does he? 

Law’s inked fingers search for yours, you let him hold your hand. “I- I… I like- you” he mumbles, still a little sweaty but definitely better than before. 

You gasp. And then, take your free hand to his forehead. He isn’t running a fever any more, but you decide to play dumb. “L-Law? you are delirious because of the fever, you a-” 

His lips, that suddenly find yours and crash against them with passion, shut you up. The first kiss with the man you love, and it’s been totally stolen by him, as he did with your heart… that’s why you call him, Dr. Heart Stealer. 

A kiss that goes from a simple peck, to a more intimate one. His hands pressing the small of your back against his weak body. The taste of his tongue, and the way you couldn’t stop from keep going… 

He flashes his golden eyes, once both decide to take some air in between so many kisses. “I like you, (Name)-ya…” he mumbles again. “And I know you like me too…” he finishes, this time showing pure red on top of his cheeks. 

You smile sweetly, of course he knows. Law always knows. And all of this has been, after all, part of his plan…

[rinniemybeloved]

Can you do Bokuto/Iwaizumi as a father like Kenma?

[✦] - 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐃

notes : sorry for being inactive for almost like 2 months :)

warnings : pregnancy idk if that's a warning tho

pairings : dad!bokuto x mom!reader,

dude has baby fever all the time I swear

"y/n it would be so cute!!" "y/n it wouldn't be that hard!!"

he's nagging you 24/7

so you just had to give in 🤷‍♀️

during the pregnancy he would be so worried

you could literally like cough or something and he'd call a doctor to make sure everything's okay

VERY overprotective

once, a small child came up to you and asked you if there's a baby in your belly and he was glaring at the kid the whole time 😭

but he honestly really likes when little kids come up to you two, he just wants to make sure they don't hurt the baby or smth

he talks to your belly so much

he's so convinced that the baby is understanding and responding too

it's honestly adorable to see him calm for once in his life

bokuto's determined that it's a boy, like literally DETERMINED

I mean, having a girl wouldn't hurt, but like it's just like his sixth sense telling him he's gonna have a boy

he gets so impatient to find out the gender too!!

he's gonna pay any amount of money to find out as fast as possible

… and boom boom his assumption sadly turns out to be true

this is loosely related to this piece I wrote a few months ago, girls or boys?

when the baby's born, he almost drops his son, but thank God he's okay

he probably wanted to name him something like buster 💀

"this is our son, not a dog, kotaro!"

"but people love and play with dogs, and we'll love and play with him, so there isn't a difference!"

yes, that was indeed a real conversation between you two.

but you ended up naming him Ichiro, leaving kotaro whining about why he couldn't name him buster.

but the absolute first thing he's gonna do is take a countless amount of pictures and send them to the whole msby group chat as well as the Japan national team group chat

can't blame him, he's always given off Instagram dad vibes

and when I say Instagram dad, I mean, like, Instagram dad.

he will post the smallest things lil Ichiro does, and bokuto's a pro athlete, so it's gonna get some attention 🤷‍♀️

his son is gonna do something as simple as point at the tv and giggle when his favorite character comes on the screen, and he's gonna post that.

his friends are supportive of it too, especially my baby Shoyo <3 <3 (I'm trying so hard not to make this about him but my Shoyo phase is coming back rn)

shoyo_msby21 it's like I saw him as a baby just yesterday !!

6h 319 likes Reply

— View 24 replies

matching outfits.

kotaro has never been the best with fashion, but with the help of you and his teammates, he has gotten better at dressing his son up

like imagine there's just a whole section in the closet just for matching father-son outfits.

He's gonna spend thousands on clothes for the family. sometimes all of you go out wearing the same colour outfit or something

matching jerseys too, little Ichiro always goes to his father's games wearing an identical, but smaller jersey <3

his son is gonna be a total daredevil, sometimes even kotaro surprisingly gets worried.

the kid is gonna have little star printed bandaids all over his little hands and legs, but I guess people learn from their mistakes, don't they?

he's gonna love being the center of attention, clinging to his dad whenever he's getting interviewed. He just wants the world to know that a star player like his dad has a star son like him!

overall, Bokuto gets an A for being an adept father.

Requests are open!

[spicyclover]

Live Stream

Summary: You and Lando have been a thing for quite some time. After being friends for a year, you finally dared to ask Lando for an actual date. And that’s where everything starts. Rumours were heard but no confirmation, so they killed themselves until one LIVE with this idiot Charles. 

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Lando was an live. Talking loudly, cracking a laugh sometimes and most of the time raging at the game and his friends. You were in the bedroom next door, and he was annoying. This has been going on for at least two hours, and you have had enough. 

You wear shorts and one of his hoodies and head outside. Go, it was much quieter here. You take his car to the nearest drive-through and order some food for you to eat while walking the streets. 

Meanwhile, Lando was still gaming with Charles, George and Alex. All three of them trying to ruin Charles's games, as always. Making fun of Alex's noise and George's unknowable of the actual gaming world. 

Oh right! They are playing the Goat simulator. 

“FUCK off, screamed Charles for a hundred times as his game crashed once more.” 

“Oh, come on, Charles, buy yourself a real computer because you are ruining our game.” 

“Shut up, Lando!” 

“No, for real, it’s like the fifth time you made me crash because you couldn’t drive, and now because...

“Fuck off, go back to fuck Y/n and let me play.”

After this sentence, Charles went silent. Looking at his camera where his streamers were going wild after he had just said. Nobody dared to talk, and this only made things worst. Them being silent, with eyes and mouths open. 

If Lando could disappear under a rock right now, he’ll do it. Far far away from this computer and this life. It’s finally George who ends the awkward silence.

“Well, I gotta go, guys. See ya!”

Alex follows shortly after with a lame excuse for doing the laundry. Lando finally comes out of his trans and ends his life and game without a word, just closing everything. “Well, Y/n going to kill me, that’s for sure.”

Charles was the last one an live. Need help figuring out what to do. He just stays there looking at his black screen. He looks at the camera and makes an awkward sound before saying goodbye to everyone. Taking his head in his hands, he tries to find a logical escape from the bombshell he just dropped on you and Lando. 

He grabs his phone and dials the number of Lando. He tries several times but always ends up in the voicemail. “That’s bad, and that’s really bad... I’ve fucked up.”

You are utterly oblivious to the bombshell that just dropped on your head. While eating your Mcdonald's at sea, your phone starts blowing up.

Your Instagram, Twitter and even WhatsApp his on fire. You finally saw the name of Lando calling you, and you answered. 

“Hi, baby! What’s going on? My phone blowing up. What did you do?”

The other line stays silent for a while, thinking about what he might say to you. 

“Lando! Answer me!”

“Baby... we need to talk.”

“What happens?” 

“I can’t tell you on the phone. Come home, please.” 

“Okay, sure. But I am apprehensive now.” 

You go back to Lando’s house. Once you arrive, you see him waiting for you at the front door, looking shocked and scared simultaneously. 

You step out of the car, and he quickly takes your arm to make you enter, looking at both sides like a madman. 

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me.”

“Babe, sit down, please.” He said while taking your hands to the couch. “Charles may have exposed us.”

“What do you mean, might?”

“Well, we were on live playing and at some point, Charles’s game crashed and I...”

“Go to the point!” 

“Well, he might tell me to fuck off and fuck you.”

“Okay?”

“And I panicked, and I froze. Making everything worse...” 

You stay silent for a while, looking at him. 

“So... we’re out?”

“Yeah... I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t want it to happen, but...”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence and kissed him. You kiss him with passion. You’ve been waiting so long for him to make your relationship public you can’t find the words. You’re happy, very happy, because you won’t have to hide when you accompany him to races. You won’t have to see all those girls flirting with him thinking he’s single.

“You’re not mad?” He asks, confused.

“No. I actually would kiss Charles if he was here!” You said, pushing him into the couch to kiss him again. 

“I’m so confused...”He said taking off your top.“Yet, I certainly don’t mind.”

[antoncyng]

small heeseung drabble because ive been thinking of this plot lately and heeseung fits it so well..

notes: gamer!idol!heeseung x gamer!fem!reader, cyber(semi) love, online friends to lovers

wc: 534

after a long day of work, you made your way back home in a taxi, tired but energy saved for at least a few rounds of whatever game your online bestfriend feels like playing today. that friend was named lee heeseung, you two have been friends for around 2 years now, and in the past year you found out a secret that he’s been trying his best to hide from you.

heeseung was a pretty famous kpop idol, not only pretty famous, but his group (ENHYPEN) was a huge recent hit globally and in korea. you only found out about him when your bestfriend dragged you to their concert, recognizing his face as you enjoyed the concert.

even after the argument you two went through after you found out, you realized theres no reason for you to be mad at him, you understood why he didn’t want to tell you and you slowly but surely understood that. but today, you didn’t expect the surprise you would be getting when you got home.

you got home, turning on your pc and connecting your headphones, noticing heeseung was already online so you called him, his face that held his signature bright smile that popped up on your screen when he answered your call, but he wasn’t in his normal dorm set up? you can’t lie, heeseung was really, and i mean really attractive, to the point where you’re 99% sure you had feelings for him, but of course you couldn’t admit that. i mean, doesn’t that seem kinda pathetic? falling for your online bestfriend of 2 years, whos a kpop idol as well.. what would he think? “hey yn, you look tired. you just got off from work didn’t you?” heeseung spoke, his english getting better day by day. “yeah, is it that obvious?” you said with a slight laugh. “where are you? i dont hear sunoo screaming in the back, and your background looks different” you said, half joking about the sunoo part.. “oh im just, somewhere else right now.. sorry if my quality might be bad, im on my phone right now. i was wondering if you just wanna sit and talk today, no games, just us” he said, slightly struggling with some of his words but you thought it was cute and nodded. “sure, im too tired to play anything right now anyways.” you responded, and started your guys conversation.

you soon got so tired while talking to him about your week, you didn’t even notice the way he turned off his camera and just listened to you talk, not knowing what he was doing, until you were interrupted by a doorbell ringing. “oh heeseung, someones at my door ill be back” you told him, getting up from your chair and putting on your slippers, sliding off the headphones from your ears as you make your way to the front door, opening it and your jaw dropping.

there he was, heeseung with the widest grin on his face ever as he hung up the call on his phone, his arms wide open as you stood in the doorway, trying to process what was even going on. “what? are you gonna stand there or come hug me?” he said, laughing a little as your basically jumped into his arms. “what are you doing here?!” you said, pulling away from the hug as his arms were still wrapped around your waist and lower back, still holding you close. “i wanted to surprise you, i also had something i wanted to say in person,” he said as you looked at him waiting to continue. “i like you yn, we’ve been friends for all this time and i couldn’t help but fall for you. you’ve always been there to make me happy even if we were thousands of miles away, when i was tired from practices and comebacks, even just your voice boosted my energy. i told my members about you non stop, they’re actually here in nyc with me ince we’re on vacation. and before you say anything! don’t worry about my idol career, i talked to my company and staff about everything so we have it under control, just please say yes yn..” he said, making eye contact that soon got cut off by your lips connecting. you pulled away with a big smile on your face. “of course heeseung, you dont understand how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

“you’re finally in my arms, and finally mine.”

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

no one asked for this but I'm writing it anyway. Also time doesn't exist in this thing, that or Ghiaccio's computer time travelled

Ghiaccio with an S/O who plays Papa's Freezeria on his computer

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

This was it. The biggest step in your relationship thus far. No, not marriage.

Ghiaccio agreed to share his computer with you.

You didn't have one of your own and amongst other expenses you just never got around to buying one. So, with a lot of deliberation and building trust, he sent you a message saying that you could make an account on his. You would have to wait until he got home though, so he could show you how.

Unfortunately, you either didn't read or disregarded that last part of the message, and with a childlike glee flung yourself to his desk, loudly click clacking the keys and brute forcing your way into figuring out his password. You must have woken it up from it's sleep because there was nothing open when you got in. Then, you sat back and tapped your chin for a while...what exactly were you going to do first?

Then, like a prophetic vision from God, a wave of nostalgia brushed across your body, making you literally shiver. A flash of color and music and ice cream played in your mind. The name "Papa..." escaped your lips in a longing sigh.

In a flash, you've got google open, searching up Coolmathgames. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. THE LINK IS PURPLE. Racing through the website, briefly noticing an account signed in, and nearly breaking the mouse as you clicked on the link for "Papa's Freezeria".

....HE HAS A SAVE FILE!! RANK 20!??? When the hell does he have the time to play this??

Despite your sense of curiosity absolutely HOWLING, you knew you had already snooped more than enough, so making your own save file it is, you suppose.

-

Has it been an hour? Maybe two? Who knows, there's no use in me asking anyways because the time certainly hasn't crossed your mind. You're glued to the game, having a nearly perfected strategy executed with each and every cartoon-y costumer. You probably don't even remember whose computer you're playing on - this reality and the reality of Freezeria have entirely merged to you.

At least, that's the case before you feel one hand clamp down on the back of your chair, and another landing on top of your own hand that's gripping the mouse.

"I thought I told you to wait?"

Ghiaccio is clearly restraining himself, there's a rasp in his voice that you only hear when he's giving his all to not shout. Your lips are sealed shut, unsure how to justify your current situation. He must have then taken a good look at the screen because next thing he said was-

"And why the FUCK are you playing THAT!?"

Shit, you legit didn't have an answer. As he's standing there giving you a weirded out look, you remember the hypocrisy in his anger. You stutter wildly, still trying to reach for some explanation, as you duplicate the tab to start the game again - you swear you see his face drop. You point at his save file with a "huh!!" sound, and suddenly he's red in the face, hand retreating from on top of yours as if the contact suddenly burned him.

"Fine!! Whatever. Just finish the fuck up and..." he groans. It always feels good to embarrass him, and plus you know he can never stay mad at you for long.

"I will, I'm almost done with this day. Last order," you promise, clicking back to your original tab and getting right back to work. Ghiaccio has nothing else to do but stand and watch you play. What you don't see is his face slowly contorting in disgust as you sloppily dump toppings over the dessert.

"That's not how you place the cherries!!! That one's supposed to be centered, and the other two have to be NEATLY placed apart! They're gonna fucking hate it!" Ghiaccio exclaims, stabbing the screen with his index finger. You roll your eyes, it definitely doesn't surprise you that he's a perfectionist in this video game.

You both watch in anticipation as the costumer tastes their ice cream, and when a 72% score appears over the "top station" button you let out a cheer. You swivel your chair to face Ghiaccio and gesture to the screen, "see? they liked it!!"

He scoffs at the score, "it sure wasn't deserved."

"What!?" you put a hand on your chest in fake-hurt, "how dare you. Louie would never treat me like this!!"

Ghiaccio blinks at you with wide eyes, needing several long seconds to process what you just said.

"...Since when were you on a one-name basis with Papa Louie!?"

[teenwolfmarvel-obsessor]

And They Were Twins

Full Masterlist | Teen Wolf Masterlist

Anonymous Request: Hi! Could you do an angsty, kinda Twin! Reader x brother best friend! Stiles? Where Scott’s not been a great brother and is never there for her, and Stiles notices and confronts him. (I swear I don’t want Scott to be evil; I just had a lightbulb moment today).

Summary: Being twins has its ups and downs. For you, it mainly consists of multiple 'downs'. You and Scott, your twin, were always close growing up, but since starting high school, he changed. He began not supporting you, not attending your track meets, and just overall not being there for you. Your best friend, Stiles, takes notice of it and doesn't hesitate to confront Scott, his other best friend.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

You're a part of Beacon Hills' track team ;)

Warnings: slight language

Stiles Stilinski x-reader

(Third Person View)

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, putting her hair away from her face. She had exactly one hour until she had to leave for her track meet. Y/N overslept a bit but managed to wake up before her mom got mad at her. Y/N adjusted the strap of her tank top. Her mom lightly knocked on her door.

"Yeah?" Y/N grabbed the maroon headband from her vanity. Melissa, Y/N and Scott's mother, opened the door. "Hey, ready for the meet?" she asked. Y/N nodded and pulled out a few strands of hair, so it framed her face. Melissa leaned against the frame of the door with her arms crossed.

She smiled at her daughter, admiring as Y/N quickly applied some makeup, not that she needed it. Y/N looked up at her mother and noticed her expression. "What?" she said. Melissa sighed and stood up straight. "Scott isn't able to make it to your meet," she said. Y/N's shoulders dropped at the news.

That would've been the fourth meet that Scott has missed. It seemed as of lately that he was never at her events. Like, when she had a choir concert her freshmen year, Scott never showed up. Or, when she won an award at a school program, Scott wasn't there.

Now, it was their senior year, and Scott continued. Stiles was really the only one who noticed, but Y/N insisted that it was fine, stating that she was used to it at this point. It didn't matter that she and Scott were the same age, Y/N looked up to Scott in a way.

But now, she was beginning to question if she should be looking up to him. "Oh," was all Y/N had to say. "I'm sorry," her mother said. Y/N smiled softly and went back to getting herself ready. Melissa kissed her daughter on the forehead.

Y/N's phone vibrated from beside her. Stiles' silly face popped up on the screen, telling Y/N that he messaged her:

Billinski: Hey! Good luck today. Me and my dad are on our way.

Y/N: Great!

Billinski: Is Scott coming?

Y/N: No

Bilinski: Y/N/N, that's like the fifth time.

Y/N: Fourth time

Bilinski: Doesn't matter

Bilinski: We'll see you there tho!

She smiled at his messages and put her phone down, getting up from her vanity. Y/N grabbed her bag, dropping an extra pair of clothes and some other things she thought she might need. Her mother was waiting in the living room, playing some random game on her phone.

"Ready," Y/N said, slipping on her sneakers. Melissa grabbed her purse, and the two of them set off to the rival school. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, wishing that Scott was sitting in the back, but part of her knew that would never happen.

It didn't take long till they pulled into the parking lot. Y/N got out first, telling her mom that she'd see her later. Y/N joined her friends on the side where their coach waited patiently. Sally and Becca, Y/N's teammates, high-fived Y/N as they walked over.

Their coach gave them his normal pep talk, reminding them who was doing each event. Y/N was happy that she was doing hurdles and distance medley, two things she was good at. A few minutes passed and it was time for the meet to start.

Y/N stood in her spot. Her friends stood on either side of her. She spotted her mom, Stiles, Mr. Stilinski, and Lydia in the stands. Stiles gave Y/N a thumbs up while Lydia screamed Y/N's name. Y/N smiled and turned her head to the man on the side.

He raised his hand, and the race started, beginning with the distance medley. Y/N started off slow before gaining enough speed to run past her opponents. She breathed in and out, controlling her breathing when she began to feel her legs ache. The end of the medley came, landing her in tenth place.

She rested her hands on her hips, catching her breath. Her family and friends cheered her on from the stands. Sally, Becca, and Y/N exchanged a fist bump before turning their attention to the other events. Next came the hurdles, Y/N's second and last event of the meet.

Y/N took a quick sip of her water before joining the other girls. She let out a heavy sigh, positioning herself like she always did. Then the whistle blew, and everyone was off. She jumped over each hurdle, careful not to brush the top. Y/N thought she was careful enough, but her foot collided with the top of the hurdle.

She stumbled forward, her arms meeting the track before the hurdle fell on her leg. The cheering of the crowd paused, along with everyone who was running the event. Y/N winced, trying to get the hurdle off her leg. Her coach and the nurse ran over to where Y/N sat.

The nurse set a hand on Y/N's shoulder, looking at her ankle. "Okay, honey, let's get you up," the nurse said. Y/N winced when she was lifted from the ground with the help of the nurse and her coach. Melissa didn't hesitate to run down the bleachers with the others following.

________

(Later At The Hospital. Third Person View)

Y/N laid on the hospital bed, her leg elevated. She hadn't realized how hard she hit her foot and leg on the hurdle, mainly focusing on how it felt to have everyone's eyes on her once she fell. Stiles and Lydia hadn't left Y/N's side since they arrived at the hospital.

Her mother was out speaking with the doctor. Thankfully, it didn't appear that Y/N had been severely injured, but it still landed her with a low chance of participating in another track meet or practice.

"How're you feeling?" Lydia asked.

Y/N sighed and shrugged her shoulders. Stiles walked into the room with some snacks in hand. "Okay, the cafeteria didn't have many options, but I got the ones that I think you'd like," he said.

Stiles dropped the snacks at the table and passed a bag to Y/N. She chuckled, opening the bag of chips. "Any news?" he asked. "Not yet. Mrs. McCall is out speaking with the doctor," Lydia answered. Stiles nodded and sat on the bed, making sure he didn't sit on Y/N's foot.

They sat in silence for a bit, listening to the TV in the background. Lydia had put on a terrible Soap Drama but insisted that it was worth the watch. "Have you heard from Scott?" Lydia asked. Y/N sighed again, shaking her head in response. Lydia nodded and didn't say anything, knowing that it wouldn't do well.

Of course, Scott hadn't responded to Y/N's calls or messages. Melissa was pissed, to say the least, even leaving her son different messages and phone calls. Y/N couldn't help but notice Stiles' demeanor change when she answered with just a nod.

He let out a long sigh and threw the half-eaten chip bag into the trash. Stiles grabbed his sweatshirt from the chair, taking out his keys and phone. "Stiles, where are you going?" Lydia asked him. "I'll be back," he said.

"Stiles," Y/N spoke. He looked over his shoulder at Y/N, his face softening at the sight of her expression. He walked over and lightly kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back. I just gotta deal with something real quick," he said. And then he left, confusing both Y/N and Lydia. Lydia shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

Meanwhile, Stiles had surprisingly found Y/N's brother. He didn't know what he was going to say to Scott, but he knew what he was feeling, which was frustration. Stiles got out of his Jeep and walked over to the Lacrosse field.

There Scott stood, practicing with Isaac on the other side of the field. "Scott!" Stiles shouted. They stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to Stiles. Scott's brows furrowed with arms swaying from side to side, a hand still holding his Lacrosse Stick.

"I need to talk to you," Stiles said.

Scott looked at Isaac and then back to Stiles, whose brows were raised. "Can't it wait?" Scott remarked. "No," Stiles shook his head. Isaac left the two of them, making his way over to the locker room. It was silent for a second before Stiles broke that pause.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Scott turned to Stiles, his brows now furrowed. He dropped the Lacrosse stick to cross his arms. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Stiles continued. Scott never responded. His arms crossed and brows furrowed said it all.

"Why aren't you ever there for Y/N?" Stiles said, "She does everything for you, yet you do nothing. Like, you missed her track meet for the fourth time. And, now, she's in the hospital. And, you would be there if you had known that."

Scott's face changed suddenly. Since starting high school, as usual with most teenagers, Scott's life changed but more unique than others. With everything that happened to him, Scott never realized how much of an impact it had on the people around him. And now, his twin sister was in the hospital.

Instead of him being in his own world, he'd actually be there for Y/N. Stiles watched as Scott thought to himself. "You're not even gonna say anything? I guess everything that I've said hasn't even made its way into your thick skull," Stiles remarked. Stiles left Scott on the field alone. He got back into his Jeep and headed to the hospital.

________

(Later)

"Good news, Ms. McCall," Doctor Williams said, standing beside the bed. Melissa held her daughter's hand as they listened to the doctor's update. "There doesn't appear to be anything severe. I would keep an eye out on it, it'll swell, but that should go down in a couple weeks," he said, "In the meantime, try to keep less pressure on it."

Dr. Williams explained a bit, stating that there would be a few bruises. Y/N smiled and sighed in relief. It would be a bit before she can join her track friends. Melissa left the room to sign out and get any medication that Y/N might need.

Scott walked down the hallway in his own thoughts. He felt guilty for not knowing about his sister's position. Scott lightly knocked on the door after finding out what room Y/N was in. She turned away from the conversation with Lydia and Stiles.

Her twin brother cleared his throat, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Stiles looked at Scott, a small smile appearing on his face when he knew that he had gotten through to Scott. He patted Scott on the shoulder as he left the room with Lydia behind him.

"Hey," Scott spoke softly. His sister sat up so Scott had more room to sit. He cleared his throat and broke the awkward pause. "I'm sorry, I don't know if it's too late," Scott said, "But I'm sorry for not being there."

He played with the frayed edge of his jacket. "I've been a complete asshole, and I know that," Scott said, "I guess... ever since I was bitten, everything around me changed. And that doesn't excuse what I've done to you and our friends, especially you."

Y/N softly smiled at her brother's apology. "And I promise that I'm going to be better, Y/N/N. I'm sorry, I really am," Scott finished. She set a hand on his shoulder.

Her action let Scott know that she accepted his apology. He was surprised that she even accepted it, but he was glad. She leaned over and hugged him. Scott sighed, hugging his sister tightly. "I love you, Y/N/N," Scott said. "Love you too," Y/N smiled.

[lazymonth]

Turbo-time Remaster was a AU I have think since 2018 and now I finally make it a thing

This AU takes place in “ The internet ” if classic Turbo-time got remake in the modern world

Feel free the drop ask about this AU ! Here’s the full information about it ↴

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About the Turbo-time Remaster ;;

The game has been updated so much to fit the world like adding Online Multiplayer where players can race with other player’s Turbo or Single Player where players are gonna have Turbo Twins racing with them. And of course they have skins too for Turbo so the players know where to spend money on. Other the clothes this games also have a karts customize like adding the patterns or changing some kart’s parts to make it fit with player’s style

Turbo-time remaster is a E10+ game with cartoony art style along with colorful light and shadows ( Imagine something like Mario kart 8 deluxe. Ya something like that )

Remaster Turbo himself ;; ( at this point if I use R! Turbo it’s Remaster Turbo and C! Turbo it’s Classic Turbo )

Remaster Turbo and classic Turbo they’re the different people. He doesn’t have any memory or any idea what happened in Litwak's Arcade before all he knows is that he's the upgraded, superior, better version of C! Turbo

R! Turbo personality, he's still high ego likes to be in the spotlight and attention but all of that is his code personality so far he’s a funny little short guy.. he’s not have an idea about taking over something other than being number one in his own game. Good that R! Turbo doesn’t “Go Turbo” yet

His design is a little different from the C! Turbo. Adding more detail on the uniform and having a more slim body to fit his sportz vibe maybe even taller than C! Turbo a bit. And the extra thing is R! Turbo have full hair because some of the Skin he have around him to take off his helmet

A little fun fact is R! Turbo likes to smoke cigarettes. He’s doing it off screen or is in other games. Oh yeah, he’s like to go hangout outside of his game too mostly at Slaughter Race because he like the place chaotic vibes

Bonus about Remaster Turbo Twins ;;

The Twins doesn’t actually have a name; most players know them as a bot for single player mode. They play the role of Turbo’s competitor and sometimes friends even they’re kinda hate Turbo sometimes

The personality of them both are very similar. Have a positive personality but sometimes they act like a jealous, hater of Turbo. The Twins design also have a little more detail added just like Turbo but one of them gonna always wear scarf so the player could know the difference between two twins

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