#these are the points of contention for me—ESPECIALLY on the pride bit

[grimalkinmessor]

Just to put a lot of my posts and beliefs about Light Yagami's character in one post (headcanons not included):

• He does not do anything for purely moral reasons. The reason he started killing criminals was because he was curious, and then afterward his "crusade" was built from panic and spite. He thought using the Death Note was going to kill him, so he decided to take everyone he considered a threat to society down with him—that way he would still be good. He would still be remembered. If he can't live, then criminals don't deserve to either. The weight loss and the insomnia shown in the manga, were more likely results of a fear of dying than moral stress.

• Then Light discovers he won't die. This negates part of the spite, but not the need for a moral justification to keep himself "good". He no longer needs to be a martyr, so instead he's chosen to become a God.

• During this week and half of time, Light goes from being a bored, lonely, listless teenager disgusted with the world because it's not how his father taught him it should be, disgusted because if he can manage perfection why can't the rest of the world—to a boy with a new friend and a new mission that gives him purpose. Something interesting. If the world can't be perfect on its own, he'll have to help it. The world needs his help, making him its "savior".

• In comes L. It is no longer about Kira, no longer about saving the world from itself, even if he might tell himself it is—it's about the game. Kira was a fun pastime, yes, but L has made things so much more interesting. (Light and Ryuk are actually wildly similar in several ways it's just not immediately obvious). This game is more fun, too, because this time he has an opponent—one not so nebulous as "the criminals of the world", who offered no challenge. Light is still justifying his actions through a lens of morality, because he has to, but they're beginning to run rather thin.

• Both the broadcast and the obvious taunts to L through changing Kira's killing methods supports the above. "You're too stupid, L. If you were just a little smarter, we could've had some fun." Drawing L in was to progress their game, not Kira's goals. If Light truly only cared about Kira's vision, Kira's new world, Kira's righteous justice; then he wouldn't have continued to play the game after the broadcast. There was no way for L to find him without Light drawing him in—the Death Note is literally the perfect murder weapon. Light knew this, he just ignored it because he wanted to play.

• In the same vein: Yotsuba Light doesn't know he's playing the game. He's forgotten that there even is a game, and so he sees L as someone who's been duped, who either isn't as intelligent as he's been made out to seem, or someone who's being purposefully cruel just because he can. Either way, to Yotsuba Light, L's threat level has only increased, because Light no longer has any sort of weapon to go against him with. He can't even wield his own innocence against him, because his innocence is not certain. Even to himself. Yotsuba Light knows that he has to play along with L's plays of friendship and morality in order to secure his freedom, but he does not respect L or like him. At least, not until near the end, where they're closing in on Higuchi. Where his freedom seems closer....and yet he sees his own, true innocence as more tenuous than ever. Notably, even when Light feels positively towards L there, he still does not share his suspicions about himself with him. His own life still takes precedence over any sort of justice or morality he might have, because Yotsuba Light is still Light. And Light will always put his own self-interests first.

• After killing L, something interesting happens. Because the game ends, but Kira is still left. And Light was willing to take risks and make wild plans in his game with L, but Kira's goals always, always came after his own life. And when only Kira's goals are left, Light stops taking those big, potentially lethal risks. (i.e. bomb desk trap, killing Raye Penber in person by handing him pages of the Death Note, killing Naomi Misora in person right in front of the police station, writing Higuchi's name while sitting right beside L with the murder weapon literally in his hand, etc. etc.). Winning the game was worth dying for—Kira's ideals are not. Or, to put it even more simply: His pride is worth dying for, but his morals are not. Five years after his victory against L, he's presented with another game, but instead of feeling fearful and excited as he did with L, Light is angry. Arrogant and angry. Because this isn't a game to these opponents, as it was to L—they're playing against each other, and Light is merely a piece in it. This game is not like his game with L; it's more like his "game" with the criminals of the world. One with no true challenge, just another defense of Kira's world—worth winning, but not worth dying for.

• Light's pride is more important to him than anything. He needs to be able to take pride in himself and his actions. Pride comes before everything else, before Kira, before family, before L, even before his own desires and physical health. He does not enjoy killing—he just turned it into something he could be proud of. Into another mastering of craft. Light is not particularly sadistic, he's just spiteful. He'll only take pleasure in someone's suffering if they make someone else suffer first, especially if that someone is him. Attacking his pride would count as making him suffer, because that's the most important thing in the world to him. Even though Light also values his life incredibly highly, attempting to kill him wouldn't invoke as much hell-hot wrath as attempting to humiliate him would. And Light will always get even. Always. He does not forgive and forget.

• He believes every lie he tells himself. Every. Lie. He is a Good Man. He is Good Son. He is a Savior. He is Better. He is NOT Evil, he is Good. He's incredibly adept at not only fooling other people, but fooling himself. Even if he's vaguely aware of the truth, he'll take great pains to make sure that truth never comes to light—because it would crush him.

• Light does not take his own desires into account. If he likes or wants something that contradicts with the perfect image he's crafted, he purges it from his mind. Makes excuses for why he doesn't need it, or even convinces himself very thoroughly that he didn't even want it in the first place. If it's not something he can be proud of (or convince himself to be proud of), he doesn't allow himself to desire it.

• Light sees everyone as beneath him (family notwithstanding, Light loves his family deeply), and while it's a pyramid scale of how far beneath him they are, it's not actually ranked by things like gender, sexuality, race—it's ranked by morality and intelligence. The more intelligent and moral you are, the higher up you are on the scale. Light feeling hostile towards someone does not always mean he sees them as further down beneath him; with L and Misa specifically, it means that they're a threat. Light tends to only see people near the top of the intelligence pyramid as threats; evidenced by him dismissing Matsuda completely even with the knowledge that Matsuda was a marksmen, and yet him immediately setting out to kill Naomi when he found out she figured out one of Kira's secrets. With Takada and Mikami, he treats them exactly the same as each other because they're both on the same level of the scale—and he didn't hesitate to get rid of either of them. (Or try to get rid of, in Mikami's case). Everyone is either a tool, a threat, a criminal, a citizen, or family to him. People to use (tool, criminal), people to serve and/or placate (citizen, family), and people to eliminate (threat, criminal). Everyone falls into at least one of these categories for him.

• Light Yagami is a tragic character. And he's a tragic character because he refuses to believe he's part of a tragedy. He would rather swallow broken glass than be considered a victim of anything.

[mangoisms]

i love how you trash on fanon things specifically when they’re about the robins so i was wondering if you could tell us which do you think are the worst things that people have come up with?

HAHAHAHAHA thank you anon this is actually an honor ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 let’s see. the dick only eats cereal thing is annoying. i was thinking about it earlier and i do think it was the fanon thing i’d stumbled upon that was weird and surprised me. id heard of it and believed that it was an odd fanon thing that existed but actually encountering it was another experience entirely. jason’s personality is also very….. i don’t know. fandom leans hard into the lit thing which is Fine but. i don’t know. woobification is Also a problem with him i think when it shouldn’t exist like he did very bad things. that’s fine. idk

i also can’t lie, the popular fanon belief that the boys (ie dick and jason mostly it seems like) use nicknames for each other/other siblings is a bit hard to swallow. like that post that’s like jason would NOT be calling anyone baby bird or whatever because he hates everyone, like that is so true. but also with dick? i just. i don’t know. i once saw a post where someone documented actual canon nicknames, i’d love to find it again, but genuinely, in my reading so far—which is pre flashpoint so idk maybe cursed rebirth strikes again there—i haven’t encountered any nicknames ppl like to use in their fics like idk. baby bird. again. little wing?? drawing a blank but You know what i’m talking about….

and i know it’s a thing of affection but i think affection between them can be expressed in a way different from that, i just see the nicknames as being the go-to, if that makes sense? i’m not sure if any of this sense it’s 2am and i am eepy bear with me

steph and waffles seems overdone too. and as we all know. i loathe tim’s fanon personality. the whole sleep deprivation making coffee his entire personality thing is so annoying. and making him meek and shy. AND woobifying him. like that boy has flaws. he has so many flaws. he’s so much more interesting with his flaws. Can we please talk about the flaws.

it’s really just when people oversimplify their personalities that annoys me. dick becomes the happy ‘nice one’ (which isn’t true/again oversimplifying), jason is the ‘mean but soft one,’ tim is the ‘smart/coffee/exhausted one’, cass is the ‘nice quiet one’, steph is the ‘comedic relief,’ duke is the ‘normal one’ (this one REALLY annoys me LMAO), damian is…. the ‘bratty/animal obsessed’ one? (must confess i am not versed in damian’s fanon i think he may be exempt from it—the worst of it but again could be wrong—BUT i do think people take the easy route with his personality sometimes and then with jon. yeah. yeah)

so like out of that. honestly it’s all bad for me. i’m SURE i’m forgetting some stuff but that’s really the core of it and i guess what i consider to be the worst of fanon and the ones that annoys me the most. what about you anon what do you find annoying ❤️‍🩹 also thank you for letting me be a hater here 🫶🫶 LMAO

[notquitecanon]

Virtual Breadcrumbs || Poly!141 x hacker!reader

Summary: A kinda prologue to Search History, While you're having your menty b back on base, a little bit from the boys' perspective. Specifically Simon. Alexa, play Mastermind by Taylor Swift.  

Part One Next Part

CW: NSFW MDNI 18+ female pronouns , porn, porn, lots of porn allusion, the boys are all handsy with each other, Simon's lowkey manipulating the situation, again irl this is harassment, stalking warning to be safe? mentions of oral and vaginal sex, really just me being nasty from Simon's point of view

It took a long time to gain access to Simon’s inner circle. Simon Riley had a habit of being intense, all or nothing, especially for those he’s decided to care about. His captain and his sergeants were in that inner circle, and he cared deeply, implicitly, about them. Health, safety, happiness, and something Simon was especially attuned to was keeping them sated. A man of action and acts of service. 

Simon was neither a poet nor a psychologist, so he didn’t spend much time or energy putting definitive terms and conditions on whatever relationship the 141 shared. He cared and he was cared for, it was intimate on all levels, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

A bond forged in bombs, bloodshed, and loyalty above all else.  Four soldiers at the top of their game, literally battle-hardened (double entendre completely intended). He was content with his little circle. 

However, he couldn’t fault the boys for missing something a little softer. Something a little sweeter, something a little more pliant. Hell, Simon wouldn’t mind burying his nose in a neck that didn’t smell like sweat, blood, and gunpowder.  

That’s where you came in. Simon’s sharp eyes didn’t miss anything. 

He saw how Price’s signature little smile rested on you whenever your explanations turned a little rambling, the look of pride in his eyes when you cracked a hard encryption- he’d called in a favor from Laswell to recruit you after all. How the Captain didn’t scold you when your work outfits were outside the civilian regulations (which was often), not that Price minded the view when you’d drop something and bend over to pick it up in your pretty skirts and heels. 

He saw how Gaz would lean over your shoulder, just a hair too close to be friendly, and watch in a little bit of awe as you worked, how the two of you spoke in code (literally) to each other. He would watch Gaz get a little hot in the face with your flirty little quips over comms, voice a little tight as he returned them. How the sergeant would bring you little pastries or coffees on days they were on base, how prided he seemed when your face lit up, and when you’d unexpectedly touch him- grab his hand or bicep with your pretty painted nails? Simon would notice how Kyle would excuse himself to go do something else, sometimes dragging Soap off with him.

And Johnny. He tried not to show it, the Scot was as loyal as they came. A dog, Simon called him often, a mutt when he was being obnoxious. Simon’d noticed Johnny literally sniffing around you, his head following the lingering scent of perfume and shampoo when you passed. He was touchy with you, passing it off as being friendly, hugging you just a bit too tight to feel the squish of your body against his- a kind of softness Simon, Price, and Gaz just couldn’t replicate. It was a sport for him, to get you to blush or stutter. 

And, fucking hell, the banter. Your voice, slightly crackly through their headsets, leading and chiding them through missions. Something about the distance or facelessness of it made you bold and teasing. Soap would egg you on over comms, sending you both down teasing explicit rabbit holes, until Price would remind both of you that the brass had access to these audio files, and you’d get shy and go quiet, but not for long.  Gaz was fairly smooth with it, not often getting out of hand until you clicked off and he’d adjust his pants and collar mid-op. Something about Price’s authority kept you a bit tamer on him, but sometimes you would slip, and the way you got all shy and apologetic, Price’s chest would puff up a bit, beard twitching with a smirk as he’d ’scold’ you. 

Simon’s men wanted you, bad. But none of them were going to be the first to admit it, none of them wanting to be the first to want more. Their loyalty to each other was their greatest value, but it was holding them back this time. But Simon had a plan, all he had to do was plant the seed. 

__

The 141 had holed up in a grungy safehouse to rest and recoup before moving on to the next portion of this assignment. ‘House’ was a bit generous- there was no central heating and it was little more than a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, the living room was basically just the foyer with a pull-out couch that took up the entire floorspace when pulled out.  The mission hadn’t gone to shit, but it was proving tedious, and stretching into a longer commitment than they’d planned for. Price was miffed about the time commitment, but it wasn’t anything new, it happened all the time. 

Waiting for transpo from Nik and information that you were working on. Even Simon felt the sting of disappointment when you’d told them you’d need them to quit calling, that the data Price requested from you was proving to be a challenge that needed undivided attention. They were bored. Price and Gaz had slipped off somewhere so the Captain could work out some of his irritation, which in turn got Soap huffy and touchy. 

Which was why the Scot was sitting, spine curled into Simon’s side, laid across the sofa still in full gear, long legs over the side while Simon simply sat up straight ( "s’too fuckin’ cold f’ this shite", he’d muttered after they’d found the wood for the old fashioned wood stove was both wet and molding, "Body heat it is, fucks sake." ), military-issue tablet using the secure network you and Gaz had set up. Too tired to do much of anything, too mission-wired to truly relax, restless and a little homesick.

Simon wasn’t surprised that it only took two rounds of solitaire before the Scot switched to the browser and started to look through the homepage of a porn website he didn’t recognize. They both knew this strategy, get yourself off a few times and your brain releases enough ‘good’ chemicals that you might be able to get some sleep. Johnny did seem uncharacteristically indecisive, getting quickly squirmy and irritated, as he continuously clicked ’next page’ waiting for something to catch his eyes.

A sniper always sees a good shot when it lines itself up, time to plant the seed. 

"Give it ‘ere." Simon gruffed, plucking the tablet out of Johnny’s hands, only smirking at the coarse language Johnny offered in return, though he didn’t attempt to get the tablet back. Waiting curiously and not so patiently for whatever Simon was going to produce, what a good dog.  The lieutenant took a couple minutes to find the right seed to plant, using key phrases that produced the results he was looking for. 

He let Soap peruse his yieldings. The actresses had some things in common, familiar hair and eye colors, familiar because they shared them with you. And the actors doing such filthy things to them? Well, that was the seed (double entendre not intended) Simon was planting, the bone he was throwing to Johnny, all the actors were Scottish.  The sniper knew his shot landed when Soap muttered under his breath, taking the tablet back, hips shifting a bit subconsciously as he scrolled, watching the thumbnails give little snippet previews, "Steamin’ Jesus, Lt…" 

"Seen you sniffin’ around our analyst. Pretty bird." Simon shrugged but his eyes were just as fixed on all the thumbnails, girls that looked vaguely like you in all sorts of positions getting rammed on Johnny’s- sorry, the actor’s cock. He saw the look of (Catholic) guilt on the sergeant’s face, swirling with lust and a pretty flush under his stubble, so Simon swooped in with another seed, motioning to a thumbnail where an actress with the same hair as you was moaning, "Bet our bird'd look better, bet she’d sound better." 

The guilt was gone, the seed planted and flourishing in the Scot’s brain, Johnny’s lips growing into a wicked grin as he settled on a video, not bothering with headphones or squirreling away in the bathroom.  One video turned to three, the two men taking turns chiding and teasing the other, and when his sergeant finally burst, it was your name he called out. 

Yes, his plan was going to work beautifully. 

___

For a quick two-minute search with the sole purpose of quickly getting Soap off, Simon hadn’t been displeased with his results. Neither had Johnny if the spring in his step and uptick in screen time was any indication. The actresses shared features with you, but he was positive there was a closer match out there. And since he couldn’t exactly ask you, their lass in the chair as Soap called you, he turned to their other tech guru and the next part of his plan. Kyle. 

He was a bit more straight-laced than either Simon or Johnny, he’d be harder to convince. Simon didn’t know if he had it in him to debate the morality of purposely seeking out a porn star that was as close as physically possible to you… Or how that might affect the relationship amongst the 141… Ghost wasn’t known for being the moral backbone of the task force, and this wasn’t an issue that could exactly be bullied to be won.  

So, when first met with some resistance even if Garrick’s face was flushed and he was shifting in his seat, ("Simon, that’s… I don’t know what but it’s not right. What if she finds out-") he delegated some orders to Johnny. 

Simon didn’t know what the Sergeants got up to- that’s a lie, he had a pretty good idea, and he expected a repeat performance later- but when they came back, Kyle’s eyes were still a little glazed and his shoes were on the wrong feet. 

"Well?" Simon raised an eyebrow looking up from the rifle he was meticulously cleaning. Johnny was smirking smugly, belt still undone, nudging the other sergeant to remind him to answer their lieutenant. Gaz was nodding wordlessly for a moment, running a hand over his hair, slumping back in front of his military-issue computer, and opening a private browser. 

"Yeah… Yeah, mate, I’m on it." Kyle was practically still panting from whatever Johnny had done to/for him. Simon smirked, going back to his rifle, until after a moment when Kyle’s voice was more level, he added his requirement, "If I find her-" 

He paused, cheeks heating a bit as he reworded himself a bit, "A look-a-like, I mean, I get to taste her first." 

Simon could work with that. 2 down, 1 to go. 

____

Lastly, John Price. Saved him for last for a reason, but he was also the easiest. Simon waited until the assignment was on the up and up again. Summit fever to push through and go home had its claws in all of them. He knew it was a good time because, after the last firefight and subsequent march through the woods to a safe zone, all the boys were too tired to fool with each other... much. Price was sitting against a tree, that ridiculous hat of his resting on his propped-up knee, face illuminated by his cigar and the light of his phone.

Wordlessly, Simon crouched beside the captain and held his hand out expectantly for the phone. Price blew his smoke with a quirked brow but was curious to what the sniper had in mind, placing the device in the waiting gloved hand. 

"What’re you up to, Simon?"  Price inquired suspiciously, lowering his eyes to the light of the screen as it was handed back to him. His blue eyes, older looking than the captain really was, widened for a second before darkening in the low light of the forest, "So this is what the Sergeants’ve been on about, uncanny…" 

Price watched the very short prelude, a woman who looked so much like you, wearing something a little racier than you’d wear to the office but as blood rushed elsewhere, Price found the realism didn’t matter much when if he squinted… it was you stripping off a cardigan and letting some sort of authority figure pop the buttons of your blouse before shoving you under a desk with your pretty painted lips wrapping around his- sorry, the actor’s throbbing cock… 

Seeing the way John’s expression shifted, Simon smirked under his mask, raising back to his full height and returning to where he’d stashed his gear. His plan was almost complete, they were in the final stretch.

___

Simon was watching over Johnny’s shoulder, his hips occasionally rutting through his clothes into the scot’s back, a video that the sniper had chosen. Soap thought it was really funny that it happened to be from your doppelganger's Halloween playlist, but now was just as entranced watching the tall domineering figure clad in all black and mask absolutely ruin you her. The bed was a perk of finally making it to an actual base, with officer’s barracks, waiting for the official expo back to you home.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon groaned, biting Johnny’s shoulder through his mask and the sergeant’s t-shirt, as gloved hands twisted into hair just like yours. It was hard not to insert himself into the fantasy. A knock on the door made him growl, pulling him away from the delicious video and friction that Soap’s weight against him was providing. With more force than really necessary, Simon whipped the door open, only relaxing a little bit when Price was standing there with Gaz, both of them with their strategizing faces on. So, he wasn’t the only one making plans lately.

“See the new video that got posted?” Gaz questioned, looking down to unlock his tablet undoubtedly sharing it over to Johnny’s laptop still playing on Ghost’s bed. Both Lieutenant and Sergeant shook their head no. Johnny clicked on the share notification, releasing a breath that puffed his cheeks and raised his eyebrows as he read the title alone, the video still loading in the base’s less than ideal wifi (the 141’s latest habit undoubtedly eating up most of the bandwidth). 

It was your doppelganger’s stage name accompanied by the words Barrack’s Bunny Gets Gang Banged! 

“Fuckin’ Hell.” Simon repeated, words almost snarling his jeans chafing him as his cock twitched in his still buttoned jeans. 

“We’re having a dinner at mine.” John decided cooly, seemingly unrelated, leaning in the doorframe. His demeanor was its usual casual confidence, but his eyes were dark with the kind of want that spelled disaster for anything that stood between him and his goal. The seeds Simon had planted were growing like invasive weeds, wild and quick, “She’s invited.” 

“How’re we playin’ this?” Simon questioned relinquishing the reins to his captain, he was just as much of a soldier as the rest of them, he took orders well, watching as Gaz joined Johnny at the foot of the bed, both Sergeants watching the video together, hands already starting to wander, gear being unbuckled and unsnapped. Price smirked at the sight, adjusting himself through his camo cargos. 

“Cooly. Don’t wanna spook th’ sweet thing.” He smiled, mostly to himself making himself comfortable on the tiny futon that had been cramped in Simon’s room as an ‘officer’s luxury’. The captain dwarfed it, and patted the limited space beside him for his lieutenant to join him, “We’ll have ‘er eating out of our hands. And then we’ll have her.”

Price said this with the same easy decisiveness as he’d have busting a terrorist cell, but the curl of his lip, how his legs spread to accommodate the growing erection in pants noted the difference for Simon, his captain nodding towards the Sergeant’s watching the video, their breaths already getting heavy. Kyle’s hands fisting the bed's blankets like he might slip away and Johnny’s hips were already rocking a bit. Price’s smirk grew, eyes flicking to Simon before looking back forward, “You’ve been busy, Simon. Never miss anything, do you?” 

It was a mix of praise and teasing that, from his Captain, made Simon’s affirmative grunt a bit lower, something twisting in his gut, like a pet that wanted to be stroked more. Price chuckled deeply, nodding, “Bet that thick head’a yours hasn’t considered why you noticed alluv our infatuations with our little analyst, ‘ave you?” 

Simon didn’t respond, watching how Johnny’s eyes lit up much in the same way they did when he was presented a puzzle (bomb) that caught his interest, how he moved Kyle’s hands aside and rewinded the video, once, twice, three times at something your lookalike did that scratched his brain just right. Mutt, Simon thought, waiting for Price to continue, knowing that the captain couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit. He’d expected as much, maybe a vulgar comment or two. He was not expecting a truth bomb that turned him both introspective and horny. 

“Only reason you noticed how much we liked ‘er, cause you’re always watching her. You watch her just as much as y'watch any of us, wonder what that might mean?” Price shrugged, one hand working at his belt buckle before motioning for Gaz to turn the volume. The Captain actually laughed at the look in Simon’s eyes that most would miss before nodding back to the video and the Sergeants, “Now, watch the show."

Fucking hell. 

__

Maybe it was that little bite of introspection or the flight home where they fleshed out every last detail of their plan to get you, the real you. (“Gaz and Johnny’ll do the leg work, play up the charm, and Ghost and I’ll work the opposite angle, strong and silent.”). Maybe it was how eagerly excited Soap was or how Ghost spent his extra time scrolling through your Instagram. Maybe it was the two brief interactions with you upon returning to base- how pretty your eyes were looking up at him through your lashes, how good you smelled, the movement of your skirt as Johnny spun you around, how you got jittery under his slightest touch in the briefing room… 

By the time he found himself on Price’s couch, he was impatient. Knee bouncing, checking his watch, making Gaz track your location. When you’d been sitting out in your car for more than fifteen minutes, he all but growled, snapping at Soap, “Go get ‘er.” 

And when Soap guided you inside, pulling one of those bright smiles out of you with his own jokes, and Gaz was helping you out of your coat like unwrapping a present, your cheeks already flushed all pretty from the Sergeants’ tag team flirting routine… He didn’t think he could wait for Price to put the steaks on the grill, he needed something to sink his teeth into, sooner rather than later. He was sure if he bit the curve of your neck, it’d be a lot like biting into a ripe peach… supple and sweet. Just like you. 

Oh, his plan had worked, the seeds were planted and growing and overtaking every other thought in his mind other than making sure him and his boys were sated at dinner tonight, and you were on the menu. 

____

To quote Sir Mix-A-Lot, "Little Does she know I'm a nasty DAWG."

Y’all are getting this because my writing app deleted what I had done on Search History pt 2. Reminder- the reader is loosely based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. The physical description is pretty vague, but lots of skirts and heels and makeup are mentioned, and I might have gotten carried away and implied

Once again: thanks to any and all tags and comments, i collect them and they will be buried in my pyramid when I die. seriously, they inspire me to keep going and I screen shot them to show to my friends :))))

Also so sorry if you got tagged twice im bad at taglists!!

Tags: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @viviennevianna @savas-q1 @cringeycookies @lainey-laines @buttercup337 @acosmisted @carqueensworld @tmartin0918 @dreamland08 @sheepdogchick @hidden-wildflowers @lilynotdilly @astrxsee @joopyjup @originalsoulcollector @henhouse-horrors @ohdrey89 @red5tars @cod-z @balletbiscuit @spacecrawllerr @scrumptioussportstoadgarden-blog @blues-of-neptune @monster-effer @yunho-leeknow @ungodlydilf @pluviofleur @jandthecrow @fangtoothgod @coquetterie-dancer @sapphires-and-silver-things @ghost-is-my-bbg @loveergirll @silly-starfish @popkle @honestlymassivetrash @not-mentally-sane @devoetee @beloveds-embrace @jellyamour @simon141price @divinecat @blckchrryy @coqwuette @abigail209 @spacecrawllerr @toomuchfluffs @blackhawkfanatic @eyeless-kun @eternallyelvish @8venusflytrap8 @yukisdelusional @nijiru @happythingtiger @lveegsoi @lilpothoscuttings @hazza3000 @aphinthestars @thisisew @firesgod @mishaglass @pievex @voguiing @supernova2205 @whisperwispxx @rejectedbytheempty @Bryan-writes @crypticlxrsh @mklovesbagels @midnightgrimoire @madzzz0797 @foxface013 @dreamland08 @ironzinc @misscaller06 @sevvygirl1995 @jenniferpendragon @silentscream2022 @ungodlydilf @sillylittlereader @gazsluckyhat @thychuvaluswife @emo-kitty-love @iloveoutlinesiswear @thriving-n-jiving @viviennevianna @corvid007 @an-ever-angry-bi @merpancake @echo9821 @yunho-leeknow @astrxsee @aira1995 @lostintransit @uraeus56 @sirbonesly @monster-effer @fangtoothgod @ohdrey89 @katheriner1999 @a-sentimental-lapse-in-time @wonderlandfandomkingdom @almostdecadentstarfish @openup-yourmind @thirdtimesthecharm @supernova2205 @starlightmoon2020 @ayyisasra @certainlygay @smuttydegenerate

[kotoku]

Could I request Dr Ratio, Aven, and Sunday (separately) with a partner who calls them edible as a weird form of compliment? Like “awww you look so cute and edible!”

And maybe they sometimes bite him, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to be uncomfortable

Please and thank ya!

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴇᴅɪʙʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟ��ᴍᴇɴᴛ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader / dr ratio x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ reader has their own way of expressing their affection lol

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

“Aww you look so cute and edible!”

“Edible? Is this in reference to my wings being called chicken wings?” 

↻ Sunday has literally no idea what you are talking about but he appreciates the compliment

↻ Whenever you call him ‘edible’ he just gives you a smile and says thank you, continuing on with his business

↻ At one point he would probably ask his sister what it means to be called ‘edible’, getting a laugh and a not so helpful description in response

↺ He’d probably ask the Trailblazer about it since they seem on par with your slang (boomer Sunday lol)

↻ Sometimes you’ll randomly bite him, especially on his wings which always get a extreme reaction from him 

↺ He can’t tell whether he likes it or is uncomfortable with it, nonetheless he politely advises you to bite anywhere else besides his wings (he might experiment on that later in private)

↻ Like your ‘edible’ comment, he’ll find your biting a little weird but dismisses it as your way of showing that you adore him (maybe it’s some sort of mating ritual? who knows)

↻ If you call him ‘edible’ or bite him in public, he freezes– how is he going to explain this!? 

↺ He probably has numerous of bite marks on his skin from you, not like you bit too hard for it to hurt but it was definitely hard enough to leave a mark (he gets flustered everytime he looks at them, desperately trying to cover them up before leaving the house)

↺ If someone says something about it, he’ll shrug it off and say that’s how you show your affection for him, giving them a look that urges them to not talk about it any longer

“I’m cute and edible? Thanks, you’re cute and edible too, _____.”

↻ Aventurine partially understands what you mean

↻ He’ll call you ‘edible’ as well as a little joke, giving you a playful smile

↻ Honestly, Aventurine would take the ‘edible’ compliment as something suggestive, calling you ‘edible’ with a knowing look in his eyes as you burn up underneath his gaze

“Not in that way, Aven!”

↻ Aventurine lets you call him whatever you want as long as it’s nothing too extreme, especially if it’s in a public setting

↺ However, being called ‘edible’ isn’t inherently a bad thing to be called so he just shrugs and lets you call him that

↻ I can imagine him buying some sort of pastry/cake of himself to live up to that compliment of yours

“See ____, I’m literally edible now.”

↻ If you bit Aventurine as a way of showing your affection, he’d do the same to you without any shame

↺ The fucker would do it in public too, right in front of his subordinates or coworkers

↻ You’d mainly bite his forearm, cheek, or neck (right on his tattoo), which always elicits a reaction out of him

↺ Sometimes it would leave marks and he wouldn’t even bother covering them up, in fact, he’d display it with pride

“Oh this? My partner gave it to me, that’s how they show their affection.”

↻ He couldn’t give two shits about what anyone has to say about them

↻ The bites you give him are a not that uncomfortable, he’d probably like the feeling a lot (masochist -_-)

“Edible? _____, you can't eat me. That would be known as cannibalism, which is frowned upon in most places.”

↻ Veritas has no clue what the fuck you are talking about.

↻ Edible? What do you mean he’s edible?? Are you planning on eating him???

↻ He just stares at you to see if you’re joking, but you’re not, so he massages his temples as he gives you a disappointed sigh

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve given me, you chose to call me ‘edible’.”

↻ He respects your effort and appreciates the compliment though, never giving it a second thought if you call him that again

↻ Honestly, Veritas would probably do some research on what it means, taking it a tad bit far

↺ Is it something the people on your planet did? Was it a courting thing? 

↺ You’d have to reassure him that it’s just a compliment you came up with and that it just means you love him a lot (spoiler alert: he doesn’t believe you for a second and thinks there’s a hidden meaning behind it)

↻ Watching him invest his time into this compliment is something that both intrigues and worries you, but you let him go until it gets too far

↻ If you bit him as a way of showing your affection, he’d probably go down a whole ‘nother rabbit hole about its meaning

↻ If your biting left some marks on him, he’d cover them up to the best of his ability

↺ If someone noticed them, he would immediately glare at them, effectively preventing them from talking about it

“Not a word.”

↻ You probably like biting his biceps lol

↻ If you bit hard enough to where it was uncomfortable, he’d probably politely tell you to stop and that if you’re going to perform your weird mating ritual, you need to bite softer

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[bugs1nmybrain]

✨️ L Lawliet w/ a Shy & Insecure Reader Headcanons ✨️

Notes: I got real specific here. I need some validation haha. I swear if L ever complimented me I'd implode and then explode like I've done many times in the DS game (don't make fun of me >:<)

I'm adding pink text and sparkles to the title. Cope with it DN twt

Warnings: 18+!!! There is some sexy content, no gendered terms or pronouns. I tried being inclusive with the sexy stuff. Talks about poor self-esteem and insecurities. L being his rude ass self at one point. Reader described as quiet. I did indeed write L as a sweetheart, and I don't regret it one bit! :D. Not proofread

For starters, shy isn't a problem for L. He appreciates that you're quiet and relatively polite. It makes it easier for him to get away with dating you because he knows you're not going to be obnoxious around headquarters, and there's a good chance you'll never even mention that you're his partner

He finds it vry cute. Especially when you stumble over your words when he flirts with you. His pride is very comfy with you.

You are a perfect parallel play lover!!! He's grateful that you don't pester him when he's busy, but he doesn't mind you being around him. You can draw, do homework, write, play video games, anything. He just appreciates your company. He's also 100% paying attention out of his peripheral vision.

But because you're quiet, sometimes you don't share all of your thoughts with him and it can make for a satisfying relationship. L sure as shit isn't disclosing a lot of stuff, so he sees it as even

A lot of your secrets are insecurities, though. You worry a lot about your competency as a romantic partner. Whether it's your intelligence, physical beauty, personality, interests, anything really. You're always anxious that you're not enough, and not enough for him.

L knows well that you lack confidence. He's torn, actually, because he wants to see you become more sure of yourself and he'll try to help. He teaches you skills when he has time and makes sure to compliment you when you do something good. Sometimes he stretches the truth in his praises just to make you feel better. He knows you value his opinion a lot.

However, your insecure nature is an easy opening for him to get away with a lot. Nothing that serious, but secret tests are a given with L, and he does like to test if you'll push through him not given you the validation he knows you want. It actually does make him feel like 10% bad, though, and he'll make up for it.

He understands why you're insecure, but at the same time, he thinks it's silly. Especially when you admit to him that you're worried about your physical appearance or sexual abilities. It's in those moments he just wants to tell you to stop because "have you seen me, y/n?"

But yes please flatter his ego

When you started sleeping together it actually was pretty smooth and natural

I truly believe L was a virgin until you, so he probably wasn't much more confident than you

The doom of adult virginity/inexperience is that everyone expects you to be pornographic by now, and for an insecure person that can be very demanding

L doesn't expect that and won't be disappointed by something slow and "vanilla." He likes that, honestly. But of course, if/whenever you're ready for something more spicy, he's very open to communicating about it

This guy is just happy to touch you, period

If you fumble because you're nervous, he's not upset, but he'll redirect you with affirming words

He does admittedly get irritated by consistent nagging and the self-deprecating comments you make. It annoys him after a bit. He'll likely disengage to avoid hurting your feelings, but if you're persistent, he'll give it to you straight.

"The only thing you should be insecure about is that you're a broken record."

Fight the tears

It actually does make him upset when you doubt him and his love for you. It makes him feel like you don't trust him. L is aware that he's deceptive by nature, but he wants you to trust that he values you. He certainly wouldn't be in a committed relationship with you if his feelings weren't genuine

So he reminds you. Again. And again. That he wants you in his life and treasures you

You're lucky that he loves you so much

Sometimes, you'll go through periods of isolating from him because you're afraid of bothering him. Trust me. He's glad to have time to work, but he does pick up on your distance quick

You're so afraid of asking him for attention

or even just a bite of his cake. He always offers, tho.

But yea. L is a busy guy and comfortable in seclusion, so he isn't that clingy. He can go a long time without checking in on you, which doesn't help the paranoia

When he decides to take a break for once, usually his first instinct is to either 1. Get coffee or a treat, or 2. Make a bee line to see you!!

OR 3. BRING YOU FOOD TO SHARE

Know that he loves you much more than most things. You are his priority, even if his work takes precedence at times.

He'll attempt to build your trust over time because he understands how hard it is to believe in someone's honesty. It'll get better, and you'll likely start to feel more self-assured with him. L talks a lot, but he believes actions speak louder than words, so he'll show you how much he loves you through the little things because you light up his world after an exhausting day full of murder and nonstop thinking. You're home to him and he wants you to feel the same way about him.

[musaslullaby]

My friends

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4 p5

Summary: The drivers defend you from insults

Face: people on Pinterest, Bianca Bustamante, and the driver

Warning: fluff and hate

a/n: We are 100!!! Thanks to you guys.I apologize for these parts that may be a bit boring, but lately I’ve been having trouble writing what’s on my mind. I still hope you’ll like it.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪

Yn.official

Description: Let's hope this intense simulator session makes up for my disaster.

Liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, and other 9,384,93

Olliebearman: Wait, why didn't you come to me for help???

Yn.official: I needed a veteran.

georgerussell63: You did great, don't worry. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Don't be pessimistic, mon ange.

carlossainz55: I also want that little toy.

georgerussell63: Sorry, Mercedes exclusive.

oscarpiastri: We should make an official request to the teams. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Guys, would you buy them?

f1lover: Yes, right away.

lan_: Please make them!

Leclerc_: Poor Hamilton.

16: This is too funny.

Yn.official: No Lewis was harmed.

lewishamilton: My face says it all. ❤️ Like to author

44.63: More meme content, thanks, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

formula1_: I'd buy them all.

user23: Instead of playing around, go train.

user48: I hate when people don't put in the effort.

user21: All pictures of George, not one of Yn, I wonder why.

user3: Yn, please stop playing the victim.

maxverstappen1

Description: Yn is training and also acting as a social media manager, what more do you want?

Liked by danielricciardo, olliebearman, and other 6,347,634

mv1: Max has entered protective mode.

checomax: Yes, these tactical jabs he throws at Yn's haters are awesome.

1.11: Yn, please date Max, I beg you! ❤️ Like to author

Red_:Max's like????

charles_leclerc: I've always said she's perfect.

landonorris: And also beautiful.

georgerussell63: I'm booking a photoshoot.

oscarpiastri: Leave her alone, George.

Yn.official: As soon as I find some time, I'll take some beautiful photos for you.

landonorris: You raised her well, your daughter.

danielricciardo: I know, she's my pride.

Yn.official: I'm about to cry.

op81: How cute you all are.

lewis: What a perfect family.

Lec: I want a dad like that.

user43: Proud of what?

user12: He probably taught her how to crash.

f1lover: Are you guys just here to stir trouble? ❤️ Like to author

user76: At least you can go straight in the simulator?

Formu_la: She's definitely much better than you. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official

Description: Mom forced me to go shopping.

Liked by maxverstappen1, yourcousin, and other 6,255,252

yourcousin: Go auntieee!

Yn.official: Mom’s waiting for you at homeee.

landonorris: Yn left the house!!!

charles_leclerc: Strange but true.

carlossainz55: These are the powers of mothers.

georgerussell: The lady has great taste in clothes too. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Mom said thank you.

oscarpiastri: Especially for that McLaren shirt. Mom said thank you.

user3: No, but how can you go out when you should be preparing for a race?

user32: And you’re with Haas, why are you covering McLaren gear?

user14: Can’t you do your own hair?

la_: Guys, mind your business?

16.55: If you’re here to insult, don’t follow her.

user09: I don’t think you get the point, if I were her mom, I wouldn’t let her out for the whole week so she could just train.

81: But how do you know if she’s training or not, and how much?

Landonorris

Description: When she apparently doesn’t train.

Liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and other 74,467,3

f1lover: Now the drivers are at war.

lan_: After Max, now it’s Norris too.

4__: I imagine in the first photo Lando thinking, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” ❤️ Like to author

Ynqueen: How cute are they?

Ynandnorris: And how beautiful is she?

charles_leclerc: Gorgeous. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: All thanks to training.

maxverstappen1: Training and willpower.

user30: You only go to the gym for photos.

user78_: I don’t understand why they defend her.

Formu_la: They defend her because she doesn’t want to create bad situations by responding.

yourcousin

Description: You're the best cousin I could ever have. We love you.

Liked by charles_leclerc, Yn.official, and other 9,802,833

Yn.official: My two stars.

❤️ Like to author

f1lover: How adorable.

Formula: Yn would be an amazing mother.

charles_leclerc: I missed the “Yn as a babysitter” era.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: But weren’t you terrible with kids? ❤️ Like to author

yourcousin: She was.

Yn.official: That’s not true!

danielricciardo: All great, but Yn, don’t get baby fever. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Are you scared?

georgerussell63: Now we’re all scared.

Yn.official: Never

carlossainz55: Now I’ve got dad fever. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: But wait, since when do you drink?

Yn.official: Oops.

Ynislife: Please tell me they’re coming to the GP.

yourcousin: We’ll see.

user87: Why do you have to use a child to get views?

Ynqueen: You guys are even here?

yourcousin: If you notice, you can’t even see the child’s face.

user45: Oh please, you’re probably just like Yn.

yourcousin: And how would that be?

user45: A manipulator.

Ynandlando: How dare you?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪

Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @exotic-iris13 @secretlychaoticruins

[bokettochild]

Just saw the update!

So, first thoughts!

Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!

(Wild is not impressed)

I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!

Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)

Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant

(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)

The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!

I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)

Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).

Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL

Also, this bit:

recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)

The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!

I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.

I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start

(Deep Shadows P.2)

(Likelike)

So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!

Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier

(Dawn p.8)

Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3

That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)

[honeydippedfiction]

#18 of established relationship with Joe x Angel

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#7. Telling their family that they think they're going to marry you.

Joe Burrow x Angel

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Snow drifted gently from the sky, blanketing Athens, Ohio in a hush that muffled the world into stillness. Joe Burrow had always loved this kind of cold. It reminded him of Friday nights at the local stadium, breath steaming in the air, fingers numb inside worn gloves. But this year, as he pulled into his parents’ driveway, it wasn’t the memories of football games or the crackle of hometown pride that filled his chest—it was something warmer, quieter, and harder to name.

Angel sat beside him in the passenger seat, her gloved hands resting in her lap. She wore a thick, camel-colored coat and a knit beanie that framed her curls like a halo. The car’s heater hummed softly between them, but Joe reached across the console and wrapped his hand around hers anyway.

“It’s like a snow globe,” she said, her voice soft, almost to herself.

Joe smiled. “That’s kind of what this town is like.”

She looked over at him then, raising an eyebrow. “You mean small and charming or claustrophobic and full of secrets?”

“Bit of both,” he replied, laughing. “But mostly the first. Especially when you’re here.”

“You nervous?” he asked, casting her a sidelong glance.

Angel raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Why? You think your mom’s gonna grill me this year?”

“She might. That’s how you know she likes you.”

Angel laughed, the sound rich and melodic. “If that’s the test, I passed it last Christmas.”

Joe squeezed her hand gently. “You did. With honors.”

They pulled up in front of the house just as the porch light flicked on. The Burrow home stood sturdy and familiar, wrapped in evergreen garlands and framed by frosted windowpanes. The warmth inside seemed to radiate from the bricks themselves.

As they stepped out of the car, Angel took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold. Joe rounded the car and reached for her hand without thinking.

“Ready?” he asked.

She gave a small, steady nod. “Always.”

The Burrow home hadn’t changed much. The same wooden shutters framed the windows, and a big red bow hung on the porch rail like always. But there was a new wreath on the door this year, a fresh layer of white lights coiled around the porch columns. Joe’s mom had clearly been busy.

Inside, the house buzzed with the easy noise of family—clinking glasses, overlapping conversations, the faint sound of a football game on in the background. The air smelled of cinnamon, roasted turkey, and something sugary cooling on the kitchen counter. As they stepped inside, Robin came bustling out of the kitchen with a wide smile and open arms, apron still tied around her waist, cheeks flushed from cooking.

“You’re here!” she said, pulling them both into warm hugs. “Come in, take off your coats. Angel, you’re just in time to save me from burning the sweet potatoes.”

Angel laughed as she unwound her scarf. “I’ve got you. Just point me in the direction.”

Joe lingered by the front door for a moment, watching her. Watching how she moved straight toward the kitchen like she’d been raised in this house too. watching her fold into his family’s rhythm like she’d always been part of it. Watching how his mother smiled wider whenever Angel spoke, how his brother leaned in to hear her stories. His dad, Jimmy, emerged from the den with two mugs of cider, handing one to Joe and giving him a pat on the back.

“She fits in well,” Jimmy said casually.

Joe nodded, quiet for a moment. “Yeah. She really does.”

✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙

After dinner—an hours-long event full of laughter, second helpings, and mild debates over which pie was superior—the family settled into the living room. Robin and Jimmy sipped cider from matching ceramic mugs while the younger generation picked spots on the floor or curled into armchairs. Joe’s grandma, Evelyn, had claimed her usual spot by the fire, her cane leaning nearby, her short silver curls immaculate as always.

Joe stood near the hallway archway, his back resting lightly against the frame, a half-empty mug of cider warming his hands. The living room had grown quieter in the past few minutes, the energy mellowing into the golden stillness that comes only after a long day of food, laughter, and being surrounded by people who know you best.

Across the room, Angel sat cross-legged on the rug beside the tree, deep in conversation with Grandma Evelyn while Harper—Joe’s energetic six-year-old niece—curled up beside her with a lap full of paper snowflakes. Angel’s sleeves were dusted with glitter, and her eyes were bright, focused entirely on Harper’s animated explanation of how her snowflake was “special because it has six hearts.”

Angel laughed, and Joe swore it was the sound that could stop time. She touched Harper’s cheek with the back of her hand, then reached to adjust the throw blanket that had slipped off Evelyn’s lap. It was such a small thing—casual, thoughtful—but to Joe, it felt like witnessing a glimpse of his future: Sunday mornings, shared glances across family dinners, children running barefoot in a yard.

He hadn’t even noticed his parents had come to stand beside him until he felt the light pressure of his mother’s hand slip around his elbow.

Robin followed his gaze, her own expression softening. “You’re staring,” she said with a knowing smile.

Joe didn’t look away. “Can you blame me?”

Robin let out a soft laugh, the kind only mothers have—the kind stitched with memory and a hundred unspoken things. “I don’t,” she said. “I don’t at all.”

Jimmy stepped up beside them, sipping from his cider, his posture relaxed but attentive. “You alright?” he asked, sensing the weight in the air but not pressing.

Joe nodded, then glanced down at his cider before lifting his eyes again to Angel. She was now holding Harper in her lap, reading the tag on a gift aloud in a playful voice, Grandma Evelyn chuckling quietly beside them.

He swallowed, then spoke. “I think I’m gonna marry her.”

Robin’s head tilted slightly as she looked up at him, and for a second, Joe thought she might tear up.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, touching his chest with her palm. “We knew.”

Joe’s breath caught. “You did?”

His dad chuckled. “She won us over before you finished your second plate of stuffing last year.”

Robin smiled, then leaned her head gently against Joe’s shoulder. “But tonight… watching you look at her like that? That’s how your dad looked at me the night he told my parents we were getting married.”

Joe’s lips twitched into a smile, caught between humility and awe. “It just feels… right. All of it. Her. Us.”

“It is right,” Robin said, her voice low and certain. “She brings out the part of you that doesn’t come from football or headlines. The part we saw when you were five and stayed behind at recess to help clean up without being asked.”

Jimmy clapped a hand on his son’s back. “Just promise us one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“When you propose—don’t do it on the jumbotron at a game,” he said with a smirk. “Your mom will disown you.”

Joe laughed, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a brief second. The warmth of the cider, the steady presence of his parents, Angel’s laughter floating softly through the room—it all wrapped around him like a promise.

“No jumbotron,” he said. “I want it to be just us.”

Robin gave his arm a gentle squeeze, then whispered, “She’s going to say yes.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“She’s special,” Jimmy said after a pause. “You know that already.”

Joe exhaled, a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah. I do.”

Jimmy looked over at his son, his face unreadable for a moment. Then, with a slow nod, he lifted his glass. “Well… don’t wait too long. Women like that don’t just stick around because you’re a quarterback.”

Joe laughed, the sound low and genuine. “I know, Dad.”

Robin stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. No lecture. No checklist. Just a mother’s silent blessing pressed against her son’s chest.

There was no big announcement. No dramatic pause or speech. Just that moment—the three of them standing side by side, watching Angel laugh with the youngest and oldest members of their family like she’d always belonged.

✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙

When Joe returned to the living room, Angel had dozed off slightly, her head resting against a throw pillow. He sat back down beside her and gently brushed a curl from her forehead. She stirred, eyes fluttering open.

“Hey,” she murmured.

“Hey,” he whispered back, letting his fingers curl around hers again.

Outside, the snow kept falling. And inside, Joe knew something had shifted—not just in the night, but in him. This wasn’t just someone he loved. This was someone he could build with, someone he would build with. And while the ring wasn’t in his pocket yet, the promise was already in his heart.

✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙✦͙͙͙͙❥⃝∗⁎ʚb⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦͙͙͙

Later that night, as coats were shrugged on and leftovers packed into foil, Angel hugged Robin tightly at the door, whispering, “Thank you for everything,” in a voice filled with gratitude and something deeper—something that had nothing to do with dinner.

As Joe and Angel stepped out into the night, the snow still falling lightly around them, Joe looked over at her. She was humming softly, cradling a tin of cookies against her chest, cheeks flushed pink from the cold and from something like joy.

He didn’t tell her what he’d said. Not yet.

But in his heart, the decision had already been made.

[selarina]

True Blue

→ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader (Series Masterlist)

Chapter 1: Man of The Match

Summary: Back home after your first year of university, you try to spend the bone-dry heat of summer with your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, but restrictions prevail.

Content Warnings: college bf!gojo, fluff, smut, cunnilingus, mention of masturbation, established relationship, implied parental issues, nicknames (baby) Minors DNI

Author's Note: hope you enjoyed some college!bf gojo smut

Taglist: Open

Tap

You were awoken by the insistent sounds of a sharp tap against your window.

It had been raining the past few days, so you didn't bother with the taps, dismissing it as part of the downpour. But now, half-awake, you're realised there was no rain. Not tonight.

Tap

Groggy, your eyes flickered open. Turning, you saw the digital clock on your bedside table blinking a mocking 1:01 am in glaring red numerals. Barely an hour had passed since you had found sleep.

Tap

You groan, a guttural sound that felt alien in the still silence of your room. Knowing how late into the night it was, you were filled with a slight sense of unease, a chill crept up your spine. You would be a bit insane not to feel this way, but you suspected the cause of this disturbance. So, you got up, and slowly made your way to the window.

The curtains were drawn, but you slowly pulled them aside, peering through. It was too dark. You pulled your window up, which you realised required a bit of strength. Maybe you were still feeling a bit dazed from the sleep.

You peered out of the open window, the chill air hitting your sleepy face.

And there he stood under the warm streetlight, Gojo in all his glory— clad in a snug white shirt and black jeans, a small black bag slung over one shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you hissed, careful to keep your voice low. You were hyper aware about the rumours that would spread all the way to your family if the neighbours caught the sight of this particular scene.

He grinned up at you, lifting a finger to point towards your front door— a silent request.

You sighed, backing away from the window, and reaching for the light switch. You searched for the nearest pair of shorts you could find in the blinding new light in your room, and made your way downstairs.

Click

His eyes met yours, blue and infinite, his grin unwavering. You noticed now that it had been raining outside, the remnants of a faint drizzle found themselves clinging to Satoru's drenched hair.

"You could've just called me," you frowned, crossing your arms, frustration evident in your tone.

“I did,” he retorted, stepping inside. “Four times. You weren’t kidding about being a heavy sleeper.”

"You scared the shit out of me, Satoru. You can’t just show up like this," you said, locking the door behind him, "Especially when I'm alone—"

A pout formed on his lips. Annoying. Salacious. "But I missed you," he confessed. Serious. Sincere.

And you melted away, as you often did with this nuisance of a boy. “And you couldn't wait one night?" you feigned irritation, the corners of your lips betraying you.

"Nope."

—

The two of you made it upstairs. Gojo had taken space on the swivel chair near your study desk. You felt a bit conscious about the mess on the desk, you had meant to clean up days earlier.

He was using your spare white towel to rub his hair dry, as you stepped into your room, balancing the full glass of water.

It had only been just a while seen you'd seen him, but you did miss him, admittedly.

You placed the glass beside him on the desk, then plopped onto your bed, sitting as you stared at him mussing his hair dry. His biceps flexing with each brisk movement.

He tilted up, noticing you staring in silence, and grinned, which made your cheeks heat up.

"How— How was the tournament then?" you inquired, genuine curiosity tingeing your words.

He set aside the damp towel, unzipping his bag to reveal a gleaming trophy. "Well, how do you think?" he quipped, his pride evident in his expression

You reached out, fingers grazing the cool metal that read “Man of the Match.”

"Did you really carry this just to show it off to me in the middle of the night?" you teased, though warmth joined your tone.

"Of course," he responded, unabashed. "Sorry, I want my girlfriend to feel pride in the man she chose."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Well... congratulations stud. The pride is all mine," you said, kissing the trophy, the chill of the metal finding your lips. You set it beside you, hand brushing your now cold lips. "What else is in this bag then?"

"Mostly souvenirs. I got a book for you," he reached into the bag again, pulling out two books. “And a book for me,” he added, pressing one of the two to his chest.

And at that, your brows rise. You eyes immediately trailing down to scan the title of the book.

"You're reading The Second Sex?" You asked, amused, and surprised.

See, you give Gojo a lot of shit but he is smart, but you never took him for a reader, assuming he was more of a kinaesthetic learner.

“Well,” he said, moving to sit beside you. The bed dipped under his weight, his hand finding your waist as he leaned in, “I much prefer doing it,” he murmured, lips brushing your neck.

You chuckled, your body tingling beneath the sensation of his warm lips. "You know that's not quite the essence of de Beauvoir's work."

His lips curve into a struggling pout. "Oh, really?" he mused, brows engaged.

Times like this left you a bit baffled — the fact that he knows what the book is actually about, but also, the fact that he feigns being stupid about it. You wonder how many times you haven't clocked it, instead falling for the act.

You smiled. “You're such an idiot, Gojo Satoru.”

"Well, I'm your idiot," he smiled back. "Your mum isn't home? You haven’t nagged me enough about being quiet tonight."

"Yeah, she's gone."

“Gone?” He raised his brows.

"For a few days," you said, half-breathless, acutely aware of his hand trailing up and down your thigh, caressing your skin. “For work.”

Your entire body tensed beneath his touch because this is new — Gojo touching you. You had only recently started dating, and it wasn't like he hadn't touched you before. He had— in this way and so much more, but even so, he always managed to get your heart rapping at a pace your breathing could not support.

He reached closer with his mouth. You help by doing the same. He presses it against your cheek — a soft kiss, before he backs up to linger only a few centimetres away from your lips. His warm breath fanning against your lips.

But this time, you found yourself impatient, reaching for his lips with your own, as his hand moved upward, now sitting snug against your cunt as you kissed. He could feel the heat of your skin singing to him through the thin material of your underwear.

Your limp hands find their purpose — trailing to find the warmth of his skin, one of them finding his hair, as the other hand reaches for Satoru's free hand trailing against the skin of your waist. He turns his hand to help you reach for it and spreads his fingers, so you could hold him — your fingers interlace in union.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he whispered as you parted, noses touching.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your lips meeting his again, your tongues intertwining. His tongue felt so so warm, and soft against your own. You wonder if yours feel like sandpaper in comparison.

You can hear the faint clacking of your lips, which is when you pull away to huff out a “sorry” before he silences your apology with another kiss.

His fingers unlace with yours as they move to hold your head, pulling you fully into him, trying to get more and more of you with every kiss.

His other hand, trails upwards, finding the waistband of your shorts. He plays with it a little, flicking it as he continues kissing you. His lips moving from your lips to your jaw now, peppering kisses, as he nibbles his way toward your ear.

At that your breath catches, you've always been sensitive there.

"Did you think of me, baby?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I thought of you. Got off to you right after we hung up that night."

Your breath catches again, and he takes this as an opportunity to lay you down on the bed, as his hand slipped inside your shorts, finding you where you seemed to need him most.

He starts at your entrance, the boundary of your shorts restricting his movements. He gathers your wetness with the tip of his middle finger as he slathering them around your clit, moving it up and down as you attempt to move your hips forward, towards him, hoping that his finger will accidentally knock faster against your clit.

But if there's one thing Satoru liked— it was frustrating you. He loved to drag things out when you wanted a quick release. You were always grateful for it at the end but it didn't make the process any less frustrating.

You could hear the squelching between your thighs, and felt your cheeks heat up as he pulled away to look at you. His eyes peering into your own, and you swear you'd never felt more vulnerable than in his arms like this.

You felt his palm press flat against your abdomen, pinning you down against the cushion, as he moved with more vigour.

“Tell me,” he urged again, kissing your jaw. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” you said, breathless and sweaty. “Every night.”

“Every night?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Tell me more.”

"Hah— Please..."

“Go on,” he urged again. “I’ll let you come only if you tell me, baby.”

“Every night, I thought of you as I got off—” You bit your lip. “It’s embarrassing, Satoru please.”

“You're adorable,” he chuckled softly. “You stroke my ego.”

"Satoru, please. I-I need..."

“Need to come, baby?” he coos—ever so irritating. You could hear the delight in his voice, and it fucking irked you, but you also wanted to kiss him stupid for it.

You nodded rapidly, giving in to him.

“I’ll make you come,” he said, his fingers curling inside you, his thumb stroking your clit.

Upon the added stimulation, your hands, almost as though they're working on their own reach out his spare hand. The gesture leaves a pang in his chest, and there is a strangely dark thought that brews within him, that wants to keep you like this all the time. Cute, dumb and at his mercy.

He gives you his hand as he lets your hand wrap itself around his pointer and middle finger.

Your clit is throbbing. Your body is burning. You think you could eternity in this moment, teetering on the edge for the rest of the endless night.

Once more, he curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his eyes on your face. You're close. He can tell.

“Come," he says, his voice hoarse. His fingers move fast, pumping into you.

The gasp that follows proves him right, as you move your hips erratically, closing in on his hand.

You lay there, panting, as he watched you with a smile playing on his lips. He bent down and left a kiss on your sweaty lips

—

You had changed, now donning new shorts and new underwear, as you looked over at the book he got you. A blue cover, with a woman seated amidst an auditorium of red seats.

"You like?" he asked, setting the glass of water he got you on your bedside table.

"Shakespeare and Palestinian Literature," you murmured. You placed the book aside, your arms reaching for him, as you leaned in to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. "You really do know me."

"You're welcome," he grinned, as he settled against the headboard beside you.

"Are you staying the night?" You asked, your hands fiddling with his lanky fingers.

"I can't," he says, and it makes you a bit sad. You were hoping he could. Truthfully, you didn't like living alone when you were back home — without your sister, without your mum. "I need to see my parents,” he added.

"You didn't see your parents first?" you asked, turning, as your eyebrows arched in surprise.

He shrugged. "I wanted to see you first."

"Your parents probably don’t like me any better now," you say, a bit glum.

He stares at you, feeling just as glum because there's truth to it, there is. They aren't your biggest fan. It only informs him that he's doing something right but it doesn't sit right with him, at the end of the day. It would hurt your heart.

“You keep running off to see me. You should spend as much time as you can when you're home, Satoru.”

"I will," he says, though he knew he was lying. Frankly, he hates home. He couldn't wait to get back to university, where he could find a home in your messy dorm room. Your roommate can crib all she wants. “Can I stay the night?" he asks, as he feels your hand stop fiddling with his own.

"I thought you had to be home," you say, your hands retracting back onto your lap.

"Well, it's the middle of the night," he replies, bending down to nuzzle into your neck, before his lips left a soft kiss. "I'll leave early, and lock up behind him."

You merely hum, too tired to argue, too grateful to send him back home. "Go home for breakfast, okay?"

He hummed. "I will."

"Promise?"

His murmured "promise" was the last thing you heard before sleep found you, coddling you into her gentle hands.

[giveafike]

i need a jealous ben fic NOW‼️

TLDR: just normal girlfriend!fem reader x Ben Shelton until you get hit on...

Word count + info: 5.1k! Whole lotta dialogue (lots of jealous/sassy ben and teasing). Mentions of Carlos Antagonist Alcaraz (NO HATE ALL LOVE! I HAD TO PICK SOMEONE, SORRY DONT CRUCIFY ME) Also, lwky wanted to fight y/n in this, idk stop being a bitch lwky.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW, jealous ben, possessiveness, neck kisses mentioned - that's about it!

Azzie Notes ✚: WOAH! NO "PLEASE" ANON??? hehe, I'm kidding, you got it. Made a twt btw (azziegivesafike), find me on there. I'll add anon asks there in my bio if you still want to ask stuff without feeling bad <3 but we can talk and yap over there! spoilers on there too.

When this goes up, i should be wrapping up the next Benny post (NSFW)... so keep an eye out! Halloween special coming out on Halloween too! Sorry for starving u guys for so long, but there's stuff on the way!

————————————————————————

Yours - B.T.S.

It's a perfect day in Monte Carlo. The Mediterranean sun blazes bright over the red clay courts and a salty breeze from the sea drifts in on the warm air. The tournament grounds are buzzing with energy, with players, coaches, and friends milling about. You’re seated in the empty stands, overlooking an outdoor practice court as Ben works through his drills. The clay glows a rich terracotta, and each of Ben’s serves echoes powerfully across the court, every stroke executed with his usual, intense focus. Sweat beads on his brow and neck, tiny rivulets rolling down his face, yet his focus never wavers. His damp curls cling to his forehead as he catches his breath between points, his shirt sticking in faint ripples across his torso. You smile, watching him move, not just admiring his talent but also the way he pours himself into every swing, even for a practice session.

You and Ben have been dating for just over a year, and despite both your schedules, you make time to see him, even if it’s only during practice rounds and training. He’s always been strong, both in his love for you and in his commitment to his sport. Having you there seems to centre him; he stands a little taller, pride filling each swing as he puts on a show to make you smile. You, of course, are always proud of him. You see the work and dedication he brings to everything, especially to you. To him, you’re a calm anchor in a sea of intensity, the one he confides in, his steady rock.

Ben’s love for you feels inevitable. Your humour, your intelligence, and your quiet confidence make you a magnetic presence. You’re not just his girlfriend; you’re his best friend, his advisor, the one who helps him open up. You’re his partner in every sense. However, your natural magnetism does bring on many others, and today was no different.

As Ben finishes a rally, you hear the scuff of trainers approaching. You glance up to see Carlos Alcaraz strolling toward you, hands casually tucked in his pockets, his grin as easy as ever, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he starts, his warm Spanish accent wrapping around the word like a charm. He gestures to the empty seat beside you. “Mind if I join?”

You nod, shifting over slightly. You kept your tone light, you had caught his eye and made small talk before, you weren't one to be starstruck or dazed by now. “Of course, plenty of room, Carlos. How’s your day been?”

Carlos settles in, leaning back with a relaxed sigh. “Just finished my session. This weather’s amazing, a bit warm, no?”

You laugh softly. “It is, isn’t it? I’ve been trying to hide in the shade, I don't know how you tennis players handle the heat.”

Carlos chuckles, casting a look toward Ben as he drills. “Ben’s looking strong out there.”

“He is,” you reply softly, eyes trailing back to Ben with a soft gaze, who, you know, can feel you watching him. Ben's tongue pokes out the side of his mouth as he squats, rocking from one leg to the other as he waits for the next serve, his eyes narrowed across the court. You couldn't help but stifle a small laugh, adoring the image ahead of you.

Carlos leans back, draping his arm casually along the back of your chair, not in a suggestive way but one that feels natural. At least, it doesn't feel like anything. You can't help but notice the closeness but brush it off. Carlos has always been friendly.

“So,” Carlos starts, turning slightly towards you, his dark eyes examining your face, “do you ever get bored watching all this tennis? Being around it every day?” There’s a playful tone to his voice, his dark eyes sparkling.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you look back to Carlos. “No, not when it’s Ben. He keeps things interesting and exciting. I love seeing him play”.

Carlos gives you a knowing smile, his eyes holding a hint of mischief, lingering a moment longer than usual. “Ah, yes. Lucky guy,” he says with a grin. “Must be nice to have someone always in your corner.”

“Yeah, I'd like to think so,” you say lightly, shrugging off the comment.

Carlos is charming, but it’s likely just friendly banter. You turn back to Ben, watching as he powers another serve into the clay, the impact sending a cloud of dust into the air. Both you and Carlos take a sharp inhale at the unexpected force of the hit.

You notice Ben’s shoulders tense, his jaw tightening as he catches sight of you watching. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and for a moment, his next few shots come off harder than usual, landing dangerously close to the lines, his movements more forceful, even a bit reckless, for a practice session. The ball slams into the ground with a fierce intensity, almost as if he’s competing, trying to prove something. You blink, then shake your head with a small smile. Maybe he’s just having a moment of intense focus.

Carlos clears his throat before returning his eyes to you. “So, will you be staying for long here?” Carlos asks, his tone conversational, yet you feel the conversation lingering on the edge of something more.

“Oh, we’re not sure. Might play it by ear,” you respond, glancing over at him. “How about you?”

“Depends,” he says with a playful shrug. “I may stick around if there’s something interesting keeping me here.”

You giggle politely, assuming he’s talking about tennis, but something in his tone gives you pause. You feel a flicker of unease but push it aside, convincing yourself it’s just your imagination.

Ben, however, is clearly catching on. His next few serves are downright explosive, practically booming throughout the court as the ball hits the clay with an almost competitive edge. When he looks over again, his eyes narrow slightly, his lips pressed into a firm, tight line. His hands are at his sides as he mutters to himself quietly. Between points, he glances your way, brows drawn slightly, muttering to himself just loud enough for you to notice. You catch the faintest pout tugging at his expression like he’s quietly vying for your attention. Between shots, he meets your eyes with a raised brow as if to say, 'Are you watching me?' You stifle a smile and arch an eyebrow back, letting him know you are.

Carlos leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, casually closing the distance a little. “You seem like you’re used to this lifestyle. Like travel, tournaments, attention ..all of it.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. It’s a different pace, but I only get to see glimpses of it when I-” you start to say, but your attention is pulled toward Ben, whose movements are starting to change.

Without warning, the ball cracks loudly off his racket, and he sends a blistering forehand down the line with an intensity that seems to echo across the court. His jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, as he wipes his upper lip with the back of his hand. You blink, momentarily thrown, and struggle to refocus on Carlos, though Ben’s shift in mood has left you a bit unsettled. Is he just having an intense moment of focus, or did something happen to set him off? Whatever it is, his gaze shifts to you more often, dark, narrowed and brooding. You offer a small smile to yourself, more confused than amused, and turn back to Carlos, finishing off where you had left off, though Ben’s presence looms larger than ever.

On the drive back to the hotel, tension sits heavy in the air. Ben tosses his bag into the back seat with more force than necessary, shutting the door a little too hard as he slides into the driver’s seat. You scroll through messages and check in on group chats, but the quiet storm brewing beside you isn’t lost on you. His hands grip the wheel tightly, his jaw is clenched shut, his gaze locked on the road with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. With a sigh, you set your phone on your lap and glance over.

“You know, your forehand was on fire today,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He side-eyes you, his tone sassy as his lips pressed in a faint scowl. “Mmm. Sure.”

You raise a brow, undeterred. “Did you enjoy training? You seemed extra… um, focused.”

Ben lets out a sharp exhale, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Focused,” he repeats, almost to himself. He’s quiet a moment longer, then shakes his head with a scoff. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You tilt your head, giving him a look. “Alright, spill. What’s up with you?”

Ben’s jaw tenses, and he keeps his eyes forward. “You really didn’t notice?”

“Notice what?”

He kisses his teeth with his tongue, clearly annoyed. “Carlitos,” he says finally, voice clipped. The name practically rolls off his tongue like a curse.

You blink, caught off guard. “Carlos?”

“Yeah. Sitting all close, leaning in, making you laugh,” he grumbles.

“Like he’s some kind of…” He shakes his head, muttering to himself. “Honestly, baby, you couldn’t see through that?”

A small lopsided grin tugs at your lips. “Ben, he was just being friendly.”

“Friendly,” he repeats with a scoff. His voice raises a bit as he glances over to you. “I know exactly what that kind of ‘friendly’ means. That's the kind of 'friendly' I was before I had my hands round you and I-”

"Ben! God, you can't be serious" You stifle a laugh, your jaw dropped as you look at him. Sassy Shelton came out strong today, clearly.

He sighs, running a hand over his face quickly. "Baby, he's not 'friendly'. That’s what he wants you to think. I know guys like him. Hell, I was a guy like him before you gave me a chance. Now he's trying to get your attention-- right in front of me, mind you -- and-”.

“Are you jealous, Ben?”

He gives you a look, eyes narrowed, though the blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “I’m not jealous. Like, the way he was actin’ around you, leanin’ in close, smilin’ too much. He was flirtin’, and you didn’t even notice - I just don’t like seeing some guy try to cozy up to you like that. ” He hesitates, then mutters, “Especially not while I’m right there.”

You chuckle softly, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. “Ben, I think you’re overreacting. Carlos is just... Carlos. It’s nothing.”

Ben shakes his head, still frowning. “You don’t get it. I’ve seen him pull that charm on other girls. He gets all friendly and sweet and cool, but it ain’t just for fun.”

“Well, I’m not other girls,” you say, squeezing his arm gently. “And I’m definitely not interested in anyone else but you.”

He stays quiet for a moment, his jaw working as he chews on your words. Finally, he exhales, his grip loosening slightly on the wheel. “I know… it’s just… I don’t like him thinkin’ he can try somethin’. I didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at you.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly amused now. "You’re really worked up over this, aren’t you? Were you pouting out there on the court?”

He huffs, looking away, a hint of a smirk breaking through as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

"I wouldn't but here you are, pouting, right in front of me." You tease, your voice lilting as you inch over to his face.

He lets out a deep breath, turning back to the road, his anger melting a bit but still lingering in his words. “I just think he should’ve backed off,” he mutters. “Especially when he knows you're mine".

“Ben, no one’s got my attention like you do. You know that. I'm yours.”

He finally lets out a reluctant smile, though he tries to hide it. “Yeah, well,” he mutters, his tone softer, “good. ‘Cause I don’t plan on sharing.”

The rest of the ride goes by easier as you talk about your own life, people and things, taking Ben's mind off of the court.

Later that evening, as you’re finishing up your skincare routine. The day's events have already faded from your mind, but you know Ben hasn’t completely shaken it off. He’s been quieter than usual since practice ended. Now he’s standing in the doorway, freshly showered, his hair damp, his grey t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame, and pyjama shorts slung low on his hips.

His hands are in his pockets, but his eyes are focused intently on you. He’s got that familiar look, pouty lips, eyes narrowed, the kind of look he gets when he wants to ask something.

You glance at him in the mirror and smile softly. “What’s up?”

Ben doesn’t respond right away. He pushes himself off the doorframe, stepping closer. “So...what did Carlos actually say to you today?” he asks, his voice quiet and soft.

The question catches you a little off guard, surely he can't still be on this. “Carlos?” you echo, frowning slightly. “You mean… earlier, at practice?”

He nods, but there’s no humour in his expression. “Yeah, baby. What’d he say?”

You chuckle softly, turning to face him. “Ben, come on, it was just a friendly chat. It wasn’t like that-”

“I didn’t say it was like that,” Ben cuts in, his voice sharper than usual, his tone still soft as he folds his arms over his broad chest, looking down at your face, almost with pleading eyes. “Just… tell me what he said.”

You hesitate, realising that he’s serious, the playfulness you expected absent. “He was just chatting. You know, we were talking about tennis, the match, practice…” you start, unsure why he’s so worked up. “At one point, he was asking if we, or was it just me? Whatever, asking if we were staying here and I said we haven't decided and then he said something about he might be sticking around. Like, if he found something ‘worthy,’ he’d stay longer or whatever.”

Ben’s jaw clenches, and he shakes his head slowly, bringing a hand up to wipe his face. “Worthy?” he mutters to himself, his expression hardening. His hands are still buried in his pockets, but you can see the tension in his shoulders. “He said that? Like, right to you? Exactly like that?”

You shrug, still not fully understanding why this has him so riled up. “Yeah, but I didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t mean anything-”

“Didn’t mean anything?” Ben interrupts, his voice climbing slightly, his hands waving exasperatedly. He steps closer again, almost looming over you. “He knew what he was sayin’. He knows how he sounds, baby. And you laughed at him.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, you’re mad because I laughed?”

Ben huffs, looking down at you with frustration evident in every line of his body. “No, but babe- I’m mad ‘cause he pulled your attention away from me! You’re there to watch me, not talk to him. But he just slides in there, all smooth, and suddenly you’re caught up in some conversation with him, while I’m bustin’ my ass on court, looking over to see my girl caught my shot only to see some guy leaning over, making eyes at her!”

You bite back a smile at the raw honesty in his voice. He’s not playing games, not teasing, just genuinely upset. “Ben, I wasn’t ignoring you-”

“Well, you weren’t exactly watching me either!” he exclaims, cutting you off again. “I saw you, baby. You weren’t even lookin’ my way.” His voice softens, but it’s filled with frustration, his hand reaching for yours as he holds them, running his thumb over your knuckles. “You’re supposed to be there for me, and he’s over here making you laugh, takin’ your attention like it’s no big deal.”

You sigh, reaching out to rest your hand on his chest, trying to soothe the tension. “Ben, I’m always there for you. He was just making conversation.”

Ben’s eyes narrow and he drops your hands softly. He closes his eyes like he's mulling over everything before he suddenly opens his mouth to mimic Carlos’s voice, clearly irritated. “‘If you find somethin’ worthy, no?’” he says in a poorly executed accent, making you almost burst out laughing. “‘Maybe you’ll stay longer, si?’” He huffs, shaking his head. “What kind of friendly talk is that? He knows what he’s doin’. He talks like that on purpose.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his attempt to copy Carlos, even if you know he’s genuinely upset. “Ben, baby, stop. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Ben stares at you, a pout forming on his lips again. “I’m ridiculous for wantin’ my girl to be there for me? For not likin’ that some other guy’s got your eyes on him when they should be on me?"

Your gaze softens as you look up at him and bring a hand up to his face, your thumb tracing a line along his jaw. “Ben, I was paying attention to you. Maybe not in every single moment, but trust me, you had my attention. You always do.”

He still looks unconvinced, his lips pressing into a tight line. “It didn’t feel like it,” he mutters. “Not when I saw you smilin’ at him. Like, really smilin’. I didn’t like it.”

You let out a soft breath, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. “Ben, I don’t care about Carlos. I only care about you.”

His hands finally find your body again, this time resting on your waist as he looks down at you, his eyes still stormy with frustration. “Yeah, well, he’s smooth, babe. And I don’t like sharing your attention with anyone. Not him. Not anyone.”

“Ben, you never have to. I’m all yours,” you reassure him, smiling as he finally relaxes in your arms, nestling himself into your neck as you feel a small smile against your skin, breaking through his earlier frustration. After a few seconds, he pulls away and stares at you for a long moment, then sighs deeply, the tension slowly leaving his body.

“Yeah… I know,” he mutters, sounding defeated but still a little stubborn.

You press a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering against his skin. “Why don’t you let me help you relax, huh? Come here.”

He reluctantly follows as you guide him to sit on the vanity stool. His pout is still present, but the frustration is starting to ebb away. You grab one of your serums and start gently applying it to his face, massaging it into his skin. He closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh as you work on his stress.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you tease softly, fingers working in small circles along his jawline.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Ben mumbles, his voice soft, his head leaning into your palm.

You smile, brushing your thumb gently over his cheek. “I do love you. But you’ve gotta stop worrying about Carlos. He’s not worth your time.”

Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you continue massaging the cream into his skin, the tension slowly draining from his body. After a while, he murmurs, “You think Carlos would wanna try this skincare routine?”

You roll your eyes, chuckling. “Ben, I don’t care what Carlos would want.”

He cracks a smile, his eyes still closed, clearly pleased with your response. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t wanna share that either.”

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his lips, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. When you finally pull back, you see a small, content smile on his face.

“Feel better?” you ask gently, running your fingers through his damp curls. You gently place yourself on his lap, both of you sitting in front of the vanity mirror, skin glazed and soft.

“Yeah…” he admits quietly, nuzzling into your neck as his arms wrap around your waist. “I just… I just want you all to myself, baby.”

You press another kiss to his forehead, feeling him relax further as you gently play with his hair. “You already have me, silly.”

Ben hums softly, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmurs, “You’re all mine.”

And at that moment, all the jealousy melts away as he buries his face in the crook of your neck once again, smiling softly as your hands work their way through his curls, your touch easing all his frustrations into nothing more than soft, happy sighs and sweet murmurs.

The next day at the court, thinking maybe things have settled. After all, Ben had gotten everything off his chest last night, or so you thought. But the moment you take your seat near the sidelines, you see Carlos already lingering nearby, his eyes lighting up as soon as he spots you. His confident stride brings him over with the same swagger as yesterday, but this time there’s a shift. He’s more deliberate.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning casually on the railing. “Back to watch Ben again, eh?”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “Looking forward to it.” Ben's words and frustrations spin around your head, he wasn't one to overreact or be quick to be jealous, so seeing how upset he was yesterday, you knew this meant a great deal to him. You also felt more suspicious of Carlos, finding lingering undertones in his actions and words.

Carlos leans in, just close enough that you feel a flicker of discomfort. “You know, it must be hard, watching your boyfriend all day in this heat no? You must get so bored. Why don’t you come down to the lounge, we can grab a drink?” His tone is light, but there’s no mistaking the undertone. It’s flirty, persistent, and more than friendly. You can feel it, and it makes you shift in your seat. Ben might've been right to have been so built up about this.

“I’m good, thanks. I'm here for Ben,” your voice firm but still kind. You don’t want to cause a scene, but it’s clear he’s not taking the hint. You look across the court and see Ben shaking his racket a bit, his gaze leaving yours as he stares at the clay under him, his jaw clenched tight.

Carlos chuckles, ignoring the brush-off, his arm lingering along the back of your chair. “One drink can’t hurt, I promise I won’t steal you for too long.”

As he leans closer, you shift in your seat. At that moment, you catch sight of Ben, watching intently from across the court. He’s looking directly at Carlos, his expression sharp. There’s an intensity in his eyes you haven’t seen before, more than competitiveness, it’s protective.

Without hesitation, Ben strides over, his southern drawl thicker than usual. “Carlitos,” he says, each syllable measured, almost mockingly. “She’s with me, man.”

Carlos raises his hands, feigning innocence as he raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Relax, we were only talking.”

“Yeah? Then talk to someone else, she's not interested” Ben replies, his tone leaving no room for debate. Ben steps up onto the ledge, leaning over the rails, facing Carlos eye to eye.

“Alright, no harm. See you around.” Carlos smirks but backs off, tossing a wink your way before he leaves. Ben watches him retreat, his expression firm, his hand gripping the rail. His eyes are still trained on the Spaniard’s back, and you can see the fire in them.

“Ben,” you murmur softly, reaching for his arm, trying to calm him. “I told him I wasn’t interested.”

His gaze softens as he looks down at you. “I saw him, babe. Too close.” His accent draws out each word slowly, his voice still tight with frustration. “I don’t like the way he was lookin’ at you.”

“I handled it,” you say gently, standing up to face him. “And besides, I’m not interested in anyone but you. He was just trying to get under your skin.”

Ben’s gaze softens slightly, but there’s still that protective edge to him. His hand moves to your waist, pulling you a little closer. “I don’t care what he was tryin’ to do. He doesn’t get to talk to you like that. Not when you’re mine.”

You smile softly, resting a hand on his chest, feeling the tension slowly drain from him. “I’ve always been yours, Ben. You don’t have to worry about anyone else.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment, eyes closing as he exhales a shaky breath. “I know… I just hate seein’ anyone think they can….” His voice trails off, and he sighs, pulling you closer. You can feel his body start to relax, but there’s still an underlying frustration there. His hand tightens on your waist, the rail holding distance between you two and before you can say anything else, he sighs.

“I don’t want you sittin’ there no more,” he mutters, “You’re gonna stay with me.”

It’s not up for debate, he’s made his decision. And honestly, you don’t mind. He helps you come onto the court, holding you tight as he presses a kiss to your temple. Being by Ben’s side feels right, especially when he’s feeling this protective. You settle next to him, his arm draped over your shoulders, as he goes through the rest of his training. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Stay by me on my bench today, baby.”

After practice, Ben takes you to the player lounge. He’s quieter than usual, but you can tell he’s still stewing over Carlos. His leg bounces nervously as he sits beside you, his arm never leaving your waist. The lounge is almost completely silent, but all Ben can focus on is making sure Carlos doesn’t come anywhere near you again.

“Ben,” you say softly with a gentle smile, resting a hand on his bouncing knee, trying to ground him. “It’s over. He’s not gonna try anything. You made yourself clear.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, biting the inside of his cheek. “He better not.”

You tilt your head, watching him with a small smile. “You’re so worked up over this, huh?”

Ben glances at you, his lips tightening for a second before he sighs. “I just….” He trails off again, clearly struggling to find the words. “You’re mine, baby. That's all.”

You bite back a smile at the possessiveness in his voice. It’s extremely rare for Ben to be this openly jealous, but when it happens, it’s kind of adorable. You lean closer, your fingers brushing over the curls at the nape of his neck. “You don’t need to get all worked up. I only have eyes for one man.”

His body visibly relaxes at your words, the tension in his shoulders easing as you play with his hair. Ben’s cheeks flush slightly at the softness of your touch, and his eyes flicker to yours.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth softly. “Only you, Ben.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips before it breaks into that gummy smile you know and love, his cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink. His hand comes up to cup your cheek gently, and he leans into the kiss, pressing his lips against yours in a way that’s sweet and slow. It’s like he’s pouring all of his emotions into that one moment, letting go of all the tension that’s been building up.

After Ben pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, you smile and gently run your fingers through his curls. He looks so at peace, the tension from earlier melting away, but you can’t resist teasing him a little.

“I didn’t know you could get so jealous,” you say with a playful grin.

Ben huffs a soft laugh, his eyes narrowing playfully as his cheeks flush. “I wasn’t that jealous,” he mumbles, but the way he bites his lower lip, the slight embarrassment in his voice, tells you otherwise.

“Oh really?” You arch a brow, leaning in closer so your lips brush the shell of his ear. “You didn’t sound jealous at all when you called him ‘Carlitos,’ like you were ready to throw him onto the court.”

Ben's blush deepens, and he buries his face in your neck, hiding his smile as you giggle. “Okay, maybe a little jealous,” he admits, his voice muffled against your skin. “But I don’t like guys like him hangin’ around you.”

You laugh softly, your fingers still toying with his curls as he nuzzles deeper into your neck, clearly flustered. “You’re so possessive, Ben,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate. “It’s kind of cute.”

At that, Ben lets out a breathy, almost bashful chuckle, his lips brushing against your neck as he tries to stifle his own laughter. “Stop,” he mumbles, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re gonna make me blush even more.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him better access to your neck, and he takes the invitation, pressing the softest, sweetest kisses against your skin. His lips linger there, warm and tender, as his arms wrap tighter around your waist. You feel his breath hitch as he tries not to laugh again, but his amusement bubbles up, and he giggles softly against your neck.

The sound makes your heart melt. Seeing Ben, so often confident and fiery, acting like this, soft, almost giddy in your arms, is a side of him that you absolutely adore and could never take for granted. You smile, feeling his giggles vibrate against your skin as his face stays tucked into your neck, hiding the full blush on his cheeks.

“Who knew the big, tough Ben Shelton could be so shy,” you tease gently, kissing the top of his head.

“Only around you,” he murmurs, his voice low but filled with affection as he pulls you even closer. His lips graze your neck again, lingering longer this time, and you can feel the smile still tugging at his lips.

He nuzzles further into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady now, no longer trying to hide his soft laughter. “I guess I do get a little jealous,” he finally admits, his voice quieter now. “I just don’t want anyone else thinkin’ they can have what’s mine.”

You smile and lean your head against his, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m always yours, Ben,” you whisper softly.

His body relaxes even more at your words, and he lets out a contented sigh. “Good,” he murmurs, still nestled into your neck, his face still rosy but his heart at ease. “Because I’m not lettin’ go.”

[melancholyhigh]

who has the face like smarty does?

ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. your dad is drunk and can barely drive home after a night out. luckily his best bud leon is there to help.

content. smut. 2.4k words. unprotected p in v, he pulls out, fingering, begging, masturbation, slight scratching, it's surprisingly soft 'n sweet, pet names, reader is kinda a perv, ooc vendetta!leon (he's on vacation).

note. he's so lana del rey. btw my inboxes are open if you guys wanna chat or request anything.

masterlist. part one. part two. part three. reblogs & feedback are appreciated !!

You first met Leon when your dad invited him for dinner. 

It was not an invitation but rather a last-second call. Your father was out, and he saw a co-worker, Leon, and thought it would be great to catch up over a drink at home. 

It was by sheer luck that they were both on vacation. 

They had a history together. Both work together in the DSO. At some point, you had to know what your father did to get an income. You knew it was selfish that you hated your father’s job. He was saving lives, sure, but you dreaded the day he won’t enter through the doors of your home, so you were ecstatic that he finally took a vacation.

You were on Spring break from college and decided to be a doting daughter and stay with your dad because you were concerned about how alone he was. So when you saw not only him but a stranger walking through the door, you were shocked. 

Your father introduced the stranger. Leon S. Kennedy.

You shook his hand, palm calloused from years of work.

He was gorgeous. The dark locks which framed his face, the tight leather jacket that fit him oh so well, and the smile of pride he has when your father laughs at one of his jokes. 

At dinner, your eyes flicker to him. His hands as they grip the glass of whiskey. The long, thick fingers circled the drink. His veins protrude as he takes a swig of the amber-coloured liquid. 

You noticed that Leon respected your father and his work. You also saw how his eyes crinkle when he chuckles and the smirk he adorns when he catches you looking at him. 

You didn’t know whether you felt relieved or disappointed when he left, patting your dad’s shoulder and thanking him for the meal and drink.

For one, you were glad your dad had a good friend to rely on, someone he could trust and relate to — despite being a few years his senior.

But on the other hand, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

You went to bed that night, and your mind was plagued with thoughts of Leon. He was all you could think about. 

And a few days after, your dad invited him over again. To watch ‘the game’ or whatever. You hadn’t pegged him as a sports guy. You weren’t one, but when your dad offered for you to join in a joking manner, you accepted. He was taken aback but happy nonetheless. 

You were sitting on the couch, looking at the screen, brows furrowed. You felt a dip in the cushion right next to you. Looking up, you expect to see your dad, only to be met with the man you couldn’t get out of your head. 

You bit your lip, staring at his handsome face, trying to be discreet.

Your gaze lowers, his hand holding onto the beer bottle and even lower to his thighs. God, they were so muscular, his jeans making them more pronounced. It was wrong to think of him like that, especially since your dad considered him his best bud. But you wanted so badly to sit on his lap. You wondered if he’d grip your hips, guiding your pussy against his thigh, trying to make you come undone —

“I can feel you staring at me,” a deep, smooth voice called out. Your eyes snapped up to meet Leon. Your face feels hot from the embarrassment of getting caught staring at him. You were lucky your dad was in the kitchen.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled in shame. Did he think you were some perv? He wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

Leon laughs, and you can’t help but feel both mortified and aroused. One of his hands moves to sit on top of your thigh, and he squeezes it softly.

“Don’t be. I like the attention, sweetheart.” 

You can’t even look at him or get a word out without stuttering. You’re too busy trying to comprehend that he’s actually touching you. 

His hand stays on your thigh, eating up your reaction. It returns to his side when your dad returns to the room, passing Leon another drink. 

“Hey, kid, ya good? You’re looking a little faint,” your father asks, sitting near you. Leon smirks, taking a sip from his drink. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Dad. I think it’s ‘cause our team’s playing ass.” You responded, trying to play it cool. 

Your dad scoffs, “Greedy bastards. What’d they expect from selling their best players?”

You sigh, grateful your dad is going on a tangent about his team.

–-

You haven’t seen Leon in a week. You also haven’t stopped thinking about him since.

His voice and soft touch swarm your mind. Unable to focus on anything, your mind is consumed with nothing but him. You’ve come undone with nothing but his name on your tongue. 

You wanted to see him again — to continue what he started. 

Your dad had a work celebration to attend. Therefore leaving you all alone in an empty house. 

You were concerned for your father. You knew he couldn’t handle his alcohol consumption which often left you taking care of him, ironically enough. You hoped he’d be okay to get home safe.

You heard a knock on the door.

Checking the time, you groan. It was 11:32 PM, way past his bedtime. 

Opening the door, you are met with a familiar face holding your father up by his shoulders. Your father stumbles into the house, barely greeting you with a ‘hi, kid’ before making a beeline to the kitchen and then his room. 

“He swears he's not senile, then pulls some shit like that,” you complained.

Leon chuckles, and you clear your throat. Oh yeah. Him.

“Did you drive here drunk?” You questioned, smelling the whiskey on his breath, “You should stay for a bit. Sober up.”

It was a weak attempt to get him to stay. You knew he was more capable drunk than you were stone sober. 

Smiling, he surprisingly agreed, “You’re right.”

You move aside, letting him enter your home. Your dad was probably out cold. This is your chance. 

“Sorry ‘bout my dad, by the way,” you said. Leon shakes his head, sitting down on the couch, leaning back. He spreads his legs. Fuck.

“He wasn’t too bad,” he replies. He continues about the event, but you get none of it. Too preoccupied with staring at his pretty lips as he speaks. 

“I love it when you look at me like that, sweetheart,” he utters with a grin.

He caught you again. How embarrassing. Do you ever learn?

Looking at you with half-lidded eyes, he takes in your appearance. Your pebbled nipples are shown through the thin tank top, and your thighs are pressed together. He knows how badly you want him. 

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, patting his lap, and you follow his orders like his obedient puppy, straddling him. You gasped softly, feeling his hardening erection through the flimsy fabric of your sleep shorts, which were soaked. His hands come up to your waist, grasping it.

“I can feel how wet your pussy is for me, sweet girl,” Leon groans quietly.

You move to press your lips against his, but he grips your jaw, preventing you. His thumb is on your bottom lip, jutting out.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” He grunted. You pout, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Need you, Leon. So, so bad, please.” You whined, rocking your hips against his clothed cock, craving the friction.

“Did you play with your pretty clit thinking of me, hm?” He knew, of course, he fucking knew. 

“Mhm.” You nod your head mindlessly. It was impressive how he turned you into such a pathetic, whiney mess, desperate for any attention he gives so quickly. 

He grins, bringing you into your well-deserved kiss. His plump lips meet yours, teeth clashing as you taste the bitter alcohol on his tongue. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your breasts are flushed with his chest. His lips move together with yours before he pulls away. 

“Let’s move to your bedroom before you give your old man a heart attack.” You playfully smack him, and he smiles.

His strong hands move to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up. He enters your bedroom with you in his arms and places you on your bed. He’s locking the door before getting on top of you. 

Placing a chaste kiss on your lips, he thumbs the waistband of your shorts, getting them off you slowly. When they’re off, Leon grips your legs, spreading them apart. You watch as he marvels at your dripping cunt, turning your head away in embarrassment. 

He runs his fingers through your folds, coating them with your slick. Rubbing the sensitive bud with his thumb, he notices your hips grinding against him in desperation.

“So sensitive, pretty girl.” He mumbles, watching as you squirm against the strawberry-printed sheet of your bed.

His ring and middle finger prod at your entrance, sliding in. His fingers are so thick and long, filling your pussy better than your own. He’s pumping his fingers into you slowly. Breathy moans and whines escape your parted lips.

He watches in a trance as his fingers disappear into your warm pussy.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, whimpering. His thumb is on your swollen bud, and you throw your head back and grab at sheets, bunching it up. You’re close to the edge. Leon curls his fingers inside you, and your orgasm washes over you with a loud cry of Leon’s name. 

He adores your little cries and gasps. You look so gorgeous. Your thighs shake with the aftershock of your orgasm, and Leon gives you a minute to come down from your high. 

He’s palming his now fully hardened cock through the fabric of his jeans, watching as your chest moves with every breath you take. 

Leon eagerly rids you off your tank top, your tits exposed to the cool air, nipples hardening even more. You move to your knees and cross your arms.

“That’s unfair,” you huff. “You still have all your clothes on.”

“I’ll make it even then, baby.”

He shrugs his leather jacket off his shoulders and pulls the black tee over his head. One of his hands trails from his neck to the front of his pants, and the veins of his arms are prominent as he unbuckles his belt. He’s making a show of himself since he knows how much you love admiring him.

Pulling off his pants, he’s in nothing but boxers. Your eyes move down to his hips, following his v-line. Your attention is now on the trail of curls that leads into and beneath his boxers, which are blotted with stains of precum. 

Leon tugs his boxers down, revealing his flushed dick. The tip is red, and precum is dribbling down his shaft. Your cunt aches at the mere sight of him, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. 

His hands are on his cock, pumping the shaft. He smears the precum on his head, rubbing it like he did your clit. His head is thrown back as he moans loudly. Leon adores your eyes on him like he’s your favourite display. 

You’re crawling over to him. You were not even face-to-face with his dick before he stopped you. His hand encloses your jaw again, preventing you from giving him the messiest head you could manage. 

His thumb is pressing against your lips. 

“Not now, sweetheart. Maybe next time,” he mumbles. His voice is so deep yet soft, and his words made your heart and pussy flutter. “Need to be inside you.”

“On your back.” You silently and obediently follow his command, laying the soft sheets. You’d do anything he told you if you were honest with yourself. 

Leon is in between your spread legs, lifting them to his hips. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you bring him closer to you. 

He’s guiding the tip of his cock through your wet folds, using your arousal and cum as a lubricant before slowly entering your warm cunt. 

You gasp at the sting, tears forming at your waterline. Leon gives you time to adjust, kissing your hot tears away. He’s fully sheathed inside your gummy walls, and you whimper.

“M’gonna move, alright? It'll feel better in a minute.” You give him a weak nod, sniffling. 

He thrusts into you, and one of his hands is on your hip, squeezing it softly. The pain of the stretch fades into something euphoric. It has you mewling into Leon’s ear.

He’s holding back, trying to be quiet. He’s afraid of your father and what he’d do if he caught him. But this pussy was worth all the trouble.

His hips pick up in speed, fucking you at a faster pace. Your hands move up to his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the skin, dragging it down to his pecs. Leon moans at the discomfort.

Warmth pulses through you when Leon rubs your clit.  It added to the pleasure of getting your pussy pounded by his fat cock.

“L– Leon!” you cried out, your thighs trembling. You cover your mouth with your palm containing your whines. 

Your pussy squeezes around him, effectively milking him of what he had. He feels your warm walls pulse around his throbbing dick. Your cunt gushes around his cock as you come with a cry muffled by your hands. 

He buries his head into the crook of your neck. An attempt to stop his moans. His stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin of your neck while he left opened-mouth kisses along the column of your throat.

You are overstimulated as Leon bucks his hips into you, trying to reach his high. 

He comes with a soft groan of your name, pulling out and finishing on your tummy. 

You’re both panting. Leon collapses next to you with a soft grunt. His dark hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head. You feel his sticky cum on your skin, but you’re too tired to care. Too tired to care about the consequences of tomorrow.

Your eyes fluttered shut, sleep taking over you, attempting to cuddle with him. Leon smiles at the sight, his heart warm in his chest. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up first, sweetheart.”

[urauntiefaye]

Maki+Daddy Kink🔞🌸

WC: 710 

TW: Hard thoughts at bottom, Daddy kink, talk of mental disorders, I switch between she/her and they/them honestly. That should honestly be it, if you're uncomfortable with Maki content that's okay, you don't have to read it just don't send hate. let me know I forgot anything!

A/N: SFW portion is a lot longer than NSFW portion btws guys. This is kind of sorta in correlation to my Maki with a Hyper Feminine GF, I realized I didn’t go too much into the daddy kink aspect to it, so I decided to elaborate a little bit more here!

*SFW* Outside of The Bed: Maki with a daddy kink is interesting to me, because it doesn’t only apply in the bedroom. Maki gives off vibes of wanting to take care of his girlfriend all the time, not only because he’s the maknae and everyone is always babying him. But more just because Maki honestly just gives off the vibes of being a caregiver, not like in a kinky or little space sense. I just noticed he really likes taking care of the other members, either if it’s cooking for them, or supporting them. It’s really heavy with Harua that I’ve noticed, and it could just be me. But Maki seems to not only just be a person who genuinely likes taking care of others, but especially others who have more of a submissive personality type(not in a sexual sense/can be but not what I meant in this context). 

He definitely gives off the type of boyfriend vibes who would order for you if you have social anxiety. The type who holds your hand in large crowds, the type to easily pick up if you’re getting anxious or over stimulated and asks you what’s wrong. I feel like Maki would be the perfect boyfriend for someone who is neurodivergent(ADHD, Autism, AuDHD, OCD ect). Or just someone who has mental health issues like anxiety, depression, bipolar, BPD ect. Because he just seems very patient and understanding, the type to take charge if you need him too. The type that can just easily read you, and helps you through whatever the issue is. 

Now I also just see him lowkey loving it that his girlfriend needs him, not like unhealthily dependent on him. But just look to him for help, and let him lead and take control. It’s not really that he needs to have control, more so just that it makes him feel good and happy knowing his significant other trusts him enough to let him take care of them and that they feel comfortable enough to let their guard down enough. Mostly because people who have those disorders like ADHD and Autism, and hell any of the ones I mentioned tend to mask a lot trying to fit into society so they don’t ‘slip’ up. And it can get really fucking exhausting, to the point to were they’re brain feels so full and just want to shut it off. Which helps when you have someone to lead you in a sense and just let you relax and not have to worry about anything (this is from personal experience and what I heard from friends). And Maki would take pride knowing his partner feels comfortable enough to not mask around him and just be themself. 

*NSFW* Inside of The Bed: Maki loves having you call him daddy. But not just that, he loves taking the lead and being the dominant one in the bedroom. Seeing how you trust him enough to do so is such a turn on for him, and he follows through 100%. Loves when you dress up in cute girly frilly clothes so much too, he just devours so much. Doesn’t matter if it’s soft sweet loving sex, or kinky rough sex. He wants you to call him daddy, maybe even has you wear a necklace with his name on it too just so people know who you belong to. Loves looking at the necklace while he fucks you, adjusts it when it falls past your neck. If you want something you have to address him as daddy and say please, if he’s not satisfied with the way you make your request he will have you repeat it until you get it right too. Can’t get enough how your eyes tear up and you’re whimpering out to him because it feels too good. Wipes your tears away while calling you cute too. Always makes you send photos of yourself in your outfits to him, if you get a new outfit? Send a photo, a new lingerie set? Send a photo AND a video. Just wants to fuck you so much that you forget all of your problems too. If you’re having a bad day, don’t worry cuz he’s here to fuck it out of you. 

[lotusarchon]

Hello! Is it okay if I request for Mei and Red Son (separately) dating hcs? Sfw and nsfw if possible, thanks! Have a good day

my love is mine all mine (red son x reader)

content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), fluff, mild stalking mentioned, tsundere-esque red son, mild angst mentioned, sfw + nsfw headcanons, smut, minors/ageless blogs dni, mentions of kinks, sub/dom dynamics, waxplay, bratty/subbish red son, unprotected sèx

author's notes: thank you for requesting! i didn't do mei's part because i actually wrote sfw + nsfw dating headcanons for her a few months back, which you can find here! also ah ....i don't necessarily know much about sex despite being a smut writer so lmfao 😭 sorry if this is boring abdjajfjs

SFW:

𐙚 While I normally don't like the tsundere trope, I have to admit that Red Son is definitely a walking tsundere. I feel like, compared to the ones in anime though, he's less likely to hurt you or be too hurtful with his words. Yes, he likes you and yes, he definitely doesn't want to admit to it, but he also would never do or say anything that would make you upset. He's simply more in denial of his feelings, so when doing something nice he always needs to insist he's doing it out of pity rather than being, well, kind.

𐙚 Because of that, if you're someone who's familiar with his personality, you can definitely tell when he has a crush on you. He's kinda hard to miss and everything, and he's somehow always around when you need help….but it's definitely not because he likes you or anything. He just can't bare to see you look so pathetic 🙄

𐙚 Like Mei (canon), he probably has hidden cameras on you, because he thinks stalking you is much too creepy (especially if in the instance you're not a demon), so he prefers to at least be able to check a camera or two to ensure you're safe. He pinkie promises it's not to do anything but to maintain your safety! And I don't personally see him being a creep about him. Red Son's paranoid by nature, and that heavily influenced how protective he is of people he cares about, even if he refuses to admit to it.

𐙚 Confessing is a bit difficult for the bull prince but only because he has a hard time in general trying to gather his feelings together. He has a hard enough time as it is to admit he's in love with you. It takes some time, but he'll get there. You can't try to confess to make things easier though, if that's what you're wondering. He refuses to allow you to be the first to confess.

𐙚 In time, as long as the confession works, Red Son is….still the same, actually. Normally some people are sorta different when they're dating, but Red Son has a pretty stubborn personality. Makes sense with his dad being a bull and all, but point blank, there's not much differences with his personality before the relationship, and after. I imagine it feels weird to just suddenly try and act differently, but give him time. He's less rude at least, and does try to be less sarcastic. Doesn't mean there are times his temper wouldn't get the best of him, but if you're willing to be patient with him, he'll get there.

𐙚 Red Son is definitely a romantic to me. He swoons when he thinks he's alone and has an album of pictures that consist solely of you, at your best and worst (not literally. More like silly, goofy moments you wouldn't want captured on film). His wallpapers are pictures of you smiling at him, and his ringtone may or may not be your voice greeting him. (It took a lot of guts, but he did manage to allow his pride to fall just enough to ask your permission to use your voice as a ringtone.)

𐙚 He's the type to spend millions of dollars before and after the relationship. Originally, there were bouqets of flowers big enough to fill your entire house from him, flowers he refused to take credit for before the relationship started. Afterwards, when you start dating, he at least has the balls to admit the gifts you used to receive back then were from him…..while simultaneously buying you dozens more.

𐙚 Not a fan of flowers? That's fine with him―Red Son pays attention to your interests, hobbies, likes and dislikes. Whatever you like, he finds for you. He's not the type to judge at all with whatever you like and find enjoyment in, so if you like a video game or show, collecting old coins or baking, he supports you regardless, and he always ensures you're gifted with the things you like. Think of this as some sort of odd courting attempt.

𐙚 I don't see him being a direct fan of pda as the relationship progresses. He does enjoy being seen in public with you, and he will place a protective arm on you if necessary, but he's a little….shy when it comes to handholding…and little kisses….and basically any type of affection, actually.

𐙚 As a matter of fact, I think that he's just awkward in general with affection at the beginning. Mind you that you're possibly the first person he's tried to be more open with, and if you're also someone who isn't cold and too aloof compared to his mother and other demons, then you would be the first person not counting Mei and MK who's made him feel comfortable enough to express much gentler emotions. It's hella awkward for him to express his feelings, physically or mentally, but with time, he'll get there. Pretty soon he's more clingy than you (if you're clingy), just anticipate it's behind closed doors.

𐙚 He's definitely the type to claim you're the more attached of the two of you, but that's a lie. Sometimes, when he's alone, he cries a bit if you're not around to comfort him 🙁

𐙚 Seeing that he opened some type of food stall in s2 (and possibly also planned on opening one in s5 with his family?), I think Red Son cooks as a hobby and is absolutely talented at it by accident. Whether or not you're capable of cooking matters little to him because he's willing to cook for you….you'll probably just have to teach him about your spice tolerance though if you can't handle spicy food too well. He'd also have you as his taste-tester if you're willing.

𐙚 For all his cockiness, Red Son has his insecurities. He especially feels like he's not good enough for you, and gets envious if you seem to like/show affection to someone else. I can kinda see him being unwilling to introduce you to his ‘friends’ (if you aren't associated with Mei/MK prior) because he'd think they'd be more fun/interesting than he is, and steal your time and attention away. You'll probably need to assure him that you still very much care for him, even if Red Son would take his insecurity to the grave with him.

𐙚 He's a simply guy. A smooch to the cheek or a little headpat and he's yours for days.

NSFW:

𐙚 Oh ..boy alright hear me out. Most of my readers are subs and this one is no different, but, I can also see Red Son being a bratty sub too. He's a prince, and….you know what? Inexperienced as fucking hell.

𐙚 Because like, Princess Iron Fan (bless her soul) might not be an emotionally available parent, but she's protective for sure, especially following DBK’s defeat and sealing. Sure she might've been a little tardy once Red Son got older, but she's a celestial, and I low-key doubt she would've left Red Son to wander about in his youth. Even then, he feels like the type to be so fucking socially awkward and stupid that he just never ended up making any friends until MK and Mei came along, which proves my headcanon that he's even more clueless when it comes to sex.

𐙚 My Readers are still subs…ish…so you're probably still on the receiving end….it's just that Red Son is more whiny and easier to tease.

𐙚 His inexperience ass boasts about how absolutely talented he is when it comes to “sexual activities”, but lock him in a bedroom and he's sitting on the edge of the bed refusing to glance at your naked body until you coax him into lying down with you. Hopefully you have experience as well because it you're just as inexperienced, then it's gonna be one hell of a ride….

𐙚 You better have a size kink, because his true form is probably massive as hell. He definitely does because you'd be pretty small compared to him anyway and he thinks it's hot watching you hover above him when he could easily crush you with a hand.

𐙚 Because of the size kink, I think he's got a thing for cowgirl positions. Or any position that makes it easier for you to be above him, either to watch your dazed, fucked out expression or the smug smile you might wear at his pathetic whimpers.

𐙚 Red Son's probably noisy to be honest. He whimpers and moans and whines every single god damn time your hands are on hin, so he might as well go the extra step and make his room sound proof too. For his parents sake and his dignity.

𐙚 First time you give him a blowjob he cums like, 10 seconds top. Hear me out with this―his inexperienced, virgin ass did not expect your mouth to feel this good on his damn dick. He lasts longer as time goes on but his excuse this first time is you “caught him off guard”.

𐙚 Don't hit me for this but his special milk (god help me I'm sorry for this phrasing 😭) is spicy and warmer than average. Either in your mouth or inside, it's easy to tell his fire powers affect certain ehem parts of him. He's sorry about that by the way…

𐙚 Likes tits. I'm sorry but it's a genetic thing because I refuse to believe PIF didn't want to peg DBK because of those fucking tits of his. Like mother, like son, and if you've got tits/pecs he is slobbering over them. He has to have your boobs in his mouth so he can mouth and leave bite marks all over. You're welcomed to do the same to his, actually―please pinch his nipples while you're riding him and scratch at his skin.

𐙚 While you're at it, could you maybe scratch at the base of his horns connected to his head and pull on them, or toy with his tail and pull him closer to you? Pretty please? And maybe also talk so dirty with him that makes him see red and cum inside you with a whimper?

𐙚 Red Son would let you leash him or less you in turn. He's not picky if you wanna tie a collar around his neck and use the tip of your shoe to nudge his face back and forth, and he's also not picky being in charge and having you worship him hand and foot.

𐙚 Bringing me back to him being a whole prince thing―he would love for you to treat him like genuine royalty. Not so much of a roleplay thing, but more of a master-servant type dynamic? Something where he can boss you around, maybe being bold and frisky and having you sit on his lap and feed him, maybe beg him to give you an heir, or perhaps a twist where you, a silly little peasant, bossing him around, calling him a pathetic ruler for allowing his own servant to treat him as such…

𐙚 Maybe he's a sado-masochist. Maybe not.

𐙚 Unironically, I can't see him being into temperature play. Maybe waxplay though, he would love to make patterns on your body with the wax, especially on your thighs, but nothing with temperature. He's scared to hurt you for one thing with his flames, but for another, he has a little too much trauma from the Bone Demon and her wretched cold. Keep things on the safe side for now, especially if you're a demon.

𐙚 Now, Red Son probably wouldn't have a breeding kink, but I can see him still enjoying finishing inside you or on you, whichever you're cool with. Would hate condoms though :( if you suggested he wear a condom at some point he'd respect you to do it but he would also pout and sulk the entire time.

𐙚 I'm sorry but compared to others Red Son feels so tame to me smut wise 😭 I dunno I just genuinely see him as the type to think he knows much about sex but in actuality the only sex position he knows is fucking missionary. He wouldn't even know where the clit is 😭 or if he does he goes into a long-winded biology discussion that'll last a few hours. He's just so me alright 😔

𐙚 I know many fans have already insisted Red Son's some experienced playboy (and would probably be disappointed/disagree with this) but to me, personally, a lot of his behavior gives me a very sheltered rich kid type of vibes. Sure, he's sassy, pretty smart and all that, but he doesn't seem like the type who has street smarts compared to MK and Mei, and to me that will also affect his sex life in away. :p

@lotusarchon, 25.02.2025, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[st4rd0lly]

ＴＯＮＧＵＥＳ ＆ ＴＥＥＴＨ —

CONTENT WARNING : this fic series will contain DARK content , smut , age gap (reader is mid-late 20s while Nikolai is in his 30s) , probably inaccurate detective work descriptions , and religious themes. this does not follow canon and it is a non ability AU

chapter warnings : suggestive themes (angry sex gets mentioned once) ; firearm

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 : 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ?

A detective.

That’s what you are.

Or well, that’s what you were. You had left that life behind you, swore on it. You weren’t a terrible detective by any means, quite the opposite. You were notably the smartest detective in your city. Sharp and witty, reliable and smart. That’s what you prided yourself on. But with making bigger shoes, you made yourself nearly look like a clown when you stepped out of them. All it took was one case, one case to make you step down.

And like that, you were out of the game.

With no interest to push yourself forward in your career, you sidelined yourself much to everyone’s dismay. You had people relying on you, people who needed you. But a normal life is what you desired after what felt like an action film that lasted forever. It’s what you deserved.

You didn’t lose all that much like you expected though. People still respected you for what you did, your ex-coworkers still treated you like their own, they still come to you for advice and you gave them your best. You became a mentor for younger detectives, a rowdy but loveable group who wanted to follow your footsteps.

You were content with the life you led. All trauma considered, you’d say you’re doing pretty solid for what you’ve been through going through cases.

You were happy for once, you were content with this domestic life you’ve made for yourself. 

"Someone tells me you’re sick of old games. Let’s play a new one. =)"

You repeated the note left on your window to your ex-work partner, Mikhail, on the phone. Staring at it with furrowed brows, you cursed to yourself. "I quit this shit for a fucking reason." With a groan, you slam yourself back down on the couch. 

"Did you check security cameras?" Mikhail questioned, groaning along with you. He’s been by your side since your guys’ first day together, two peas in a pod. You still remember the days where you were just young rookies together. You guys weren’t Sherlock Holmes and Watson by any means, but some might argue that your dynamic duo could come close.

Your face fell into a deadpanned expression, "You really think I wouldn’t?"

"Hey, I’m just trying to make sure we covered all bases. But knowing you, you probably already did that so I guess it was a stupid question— which is besides the point though." You could tell that he was just at a lost as you are.

"Misha, I wanted to leave this stuff behind me." You said, a little more solemnly than you’d liked to admit. "I thought after I faded out in the system for a bit, things would be okay for me. Sure, we’ve made our enemies—"

"You especially."

"Yes, me especially. But I know that most of them are in prison and the others are respectable enough to do this stuff to my face instead of… whatever the fuck that is. I wanted out."

"And you will be out. One day, I promise you." Mikhail reassures, his usual lighthearted tone softening. "Do you think it could be the same guy from our last case together?" He asks.

And you wished you had an answer. The last case you ever took on as an official detective left you in pieces that you’re still trying to pick up to this day. There were too many missing factors but so many were coming to a horrific realization. There were no hints one moment and then the next, there were. Each step closer you thought you took, set you 10 paces back with little time to catch up. That case had flipped your life upside down and around. Like some sick cycle. 

If it was the same bastard behind that case, you were sure that the old you would’ve jumped at the chance.

But you aren’t the person you were in the past, and you haven’t been for a long time.

Maybe this was exactly what the guy wanted, what they came here for. To wait for things to get calm till they could hit hard again. Or maybe, there was a chance that this note could’ve come from a new, completely different person. Someone who wanted to take out an old big shot to make themselves look even bigger. There was just too many open spaces with a huge gap of no information. It could be anything from anyone.

"I don’t know Misha, with the little to no info right now… it literally could be anyone." You admitted, not trying to even hide the defeat in your voice. Your brain searching, scanning, and recalling for anyone that stood out to you in your life. Someone who would mess with you like this, taunting from afar. It hits you like cold water in the morning. "Oh my god. What if it’s my ex?"

"You think you got yourself caught up in like a weird crazy ex revenge situation? What was the guy’s name again?" Mikhail questioned.

"Nikolai. Nikolai Gogol." You responded, rubbing at your temple. Fuck, if it really was Nikolai…

But that was so long ago, way before your last case. And that relationship was never going to last, the both of you knew that. You wanted different things, you two were different…it wouldn’t have worked out. Maybe he wanted Bonnie and Clyde, turn you away from the so called righteousness and justice that is detective work. Live out a life of crime. You never were aware of what he did for work, you were able to tell it was dangerous. And maybe in another life, he was able make you his Bonnie. 

You made sure that this wasn’t that life.

Thinking back to all the times you’ve spent with him makes your heart has plunge into your stomach. You were aware that he wasn’t the greatest person to date. You said through heated kisses and angry sex that it was just the rush, the thrill of it all in the relationship you had with him that kept you around. Each time he could only laugh in your face. All his talk about freedom definitely added a new perspective to your life, but it was so extreme. 

And oddly enough when you wanted to end it, he was very much less than pleased even though that’s all he’s ever wanted. To be free. He’s a walking contradiction though and he left your life without a trace. You refused to look back.

It wouldn’t make sense to mess up your life now.

….

When did he ever make sense?

"I’ll check in with the database, see what I can scoop up on him." Mikhail attempts to reassure you, though it does little to soothe your thoughts. He never knew about the complexity of your relationship with Nikolai. Just that it was strange. He didn’t know how dangerous he was.

But you weren’t about to tell him right now, not while it felt like someone was watching you. "Okay…"

"Did you ask your neighbors if they saw anything? What about that one neighbor across from you?" Mikhail suggested. "Take a picture of the note and I’ll drop by with some of the team by your place so we can investigate more. Better to not tamper with evidence so just use the picture to show your neighbors."

"Okay, yeah I’ll do that." You agreed, it wasn’t a bad idea. "Thank you Misha."

"I’ll be there in about fifteen. Go chat with your neighbors. Don’t die."

"Trying not to." You chuckled, hanging up the phone. You stood back up from the couch, looking at the window with disdain. The note was still there, staring back at you. Though you knew nothing was confirmed, you tried to find any hints of Nikolai’s presence. The only thing sticking out to you was the smiley, and that wouldn’t be viable evidence of anything. You shook your head, opening the camera app on your phone and snapping a picture. 

Now  that was done and over with. Time to talk to your neighbor.

Your neighbor was a relatively tall and attractive man you would say. You’ve never talked to him before, only seeing him for a brief moment when you walk to your car or when he goes out. Your window allows you a somewhat good view outside. Though you could also say that his appearance did make him stand out too. 

Tossing on a jacket, you hoped your neighbor wouldn’t judge too hard if you were in your pajamas. It was still early in the morning when you woke up to that note. 

You bite your tongue, you shouldn’t leave the house unarmed. Taking a quick trip back to your room, you put on your belt that you wear to do your mentor work. The one that’s meant to hold your firearm. You grab your gun in your drawer to put in your holster.

You opened the door, shivering a bit as the cool air hits your skin and hugged yourself tighter. Whoever put that note there must be really motivated to mess with you because who on earth would put a stupid note on a window when it’s this cold?

Taking a couple of steps towards his door, you placed a firm knock. You really hoped he was here. It would be an even shittier day if he wasn’t and you were waiting out in the cold longer than you needed to be. But thankfully, the door opens.

"May I help you?" The rich Russian accent caught you off guard, making you blink in surprise. You weren’t sure what to expect when he did speak but it wasn’t that. 

You gave the man an apologetic smile, "Hi I’m so sorry to bother you early this morning but I was wondering if you had heard anything strange late at night or earlier in the morning? Or if you had seen anything weird?"

The man looks down at you for a moment and you could tell he was studying you. His eyes were probably the most vibrant shade of a deep purple hue that you had ever seen before. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, he had a good poker face you had to admit. He only tilts his head to the side, looking concerned. "I had not heard anything out of the ordinary. I usually am not here all that often because of work, but when I am here, I like to stay in my bedroom and rest."

He sounded genuine, and he definitely looked genuine. But those years you’ve spent as a detective grew your skills, and you’ve kept them sharp. You wouldn’t have been earnestly praised highly as a detective if you weren’t good at catching onto the small things. A blessing and a curse. There was something off about this neighbor of yours that you couldn’t place your finger on.

You couldn’t let him know that though, so you only shook your head again and waved your hand. "Ah, I’m so sorry again then. There was just a note left on my window and I was just wondering if anyone saw anything. It’s okay, thank you for your time."

"That sounds terrible, forgive me if I’m overstepping but are you certain it wasn’t your roommate playing some sort of prank?"

……

You could feel the gears in your head pause abruptly. You blink at him in confusion.

Roommate? 

"I don’t have a roommate?" You clarified, raising a brow at his comment. But he only reciprocates your confused expression.

"Is that so? I was sure you did. There was this man I’ve seen at your place before quite often whenever I’m here." He tells you, and your mind goes into a frenzy. What the fuck was he talking about? Was he talking about Mikhail? 

"I’m sorry, could you explain more?" You kept your tone polite, and it was obvious you weren’t expecting this. You were too distracted by the thoughts swirling in your head that you didn’t realize that you were shaking a bit from the weather.

"Here, you should come inside. I have some tea prepared for myself but there’s enough to share. I’ll tell you what I know. Part of it is that it’s bad manners to keep a guest outside in the cold." He opens the door more, stepping out of the way. 

Jesus, you really did want to stop being dragged into these games.

[sparrowsoupp]

some of the most iconic queer poster children of the warrior cats fandom. happy pride to the girls gays and theys (particularly those who enjoy brawling feline content)

dabble in my headcannons for these pairings under the read-more button if i’ve piqued your interest…

RAVEN x BARLEY (gay x gay)

i know there’s been a bit of controversy going around about these two and how they could be seen as toxic, with barley being insecure over ravenpaw’s connection to thunderclan. i get that perspective for sure, but i think it’s representative of REASONABLE flaws in a real relationship. obviously it’s not ideal that they never completely resolve it (since it’s ‘solved’ in the graphic novel but reopened in ravenpaw’s novella) and i wished that they addressed that more concretely (i say about a fucking middle grade book about talking cats LOL) but even more so i think you could see it as a realistic relationship as with issues in those, they often subdue and reoccur at intervals. it’s just about talking it out with your partner 🦭👍 plus if the majority of their relationship outside of this is good (which i definitely see it as, since obviously the books have to take place at points of conflict for there to be interesting things to write about) then it seems to be a somewhat small flaw.

that being said i haven’t actually read the books this comes up in so take my opinion with grains of salt, just online discourse about it. totally get if your life experience makes you see their interactions another way as this is just my two cents based on my experience with people.

overall i’m not a superfan of the sickly-sweet reputation these two get but i do like them for what i see them as, which is a Normal Relationship with Some Flaws. i like that they find solace in each other in a peaceful place after fleeing their less peaceful pasts. it’s a great dynamic (and i’m a sucker for farms) and i think they compliment each other’s personalities really well, with barley bringing ravenpaw out of the shell he’s been forced into and ravenpaw inspiring more cautiousness in a very brash barley who would otherwise probably jump into fights at the drop of a hat.

on a somewhat unrelated note, as a kid did anyone else wish that ravenpaw dropped his paw suffix? or blue/firestar granted him an honourary suffix for everything the poor kid went through? this isn’t like a super big meanigful thing but it just annoyed me when i was younger that the paw suffix kind of belittles him to apprentice level when after the fuckery the poor kid went through i think he deserves more recognition from the clans than that.

BLUESTAR x YELLOWFANG (bi x bi)

OKAYYY old women! while fanart of the two of them being in a loving happy relationship is very cute i like to take my old woman yuri one-sided and traumatic.

i think that yellowfang would have an unrequited crush on bluestar. what’s there not to like?! at the point when they meet bluestar is a compassionate but commanding cat in the prime of her leadership. after a bit of her being in the camp i think bluestar would also start spending a curious amount of time in the medicine den… unconciously she definitely saw the appeal in yellowfang from the getgo- it definitely strengthens the reasoning of her surprising decision to defend yellowfang as a member of thunderclan depsite risking a full on war with other clans from it, and her other clanmates lives in the process. obviously bluestar’s a leader that wouldn’t base a decision like that just based on a crush, and it was definitely because of what she wants her clan to stand for, but it’s Not a downside that the cute lady she used to see at gatherings gets to stay a while

bluestar’s definitely not letting it occupy her mind though, of course, totally not (the lady has Trauma from her relationship with oakheart and i see her as having an attatchment issue where she doesn’t feel like she deserves to have a healthy relationship, especially after losing mosskit. she’s just not fully ready yet). yellowfang pines as she watches bluestar throw herself fully into her work to distract herself from the growing feelings, and at some point probably grows annoyed with the cat-and-mouse and starts dedicating herself fully to her own work as a medicine cat too. there are moments of sweetness and clarity and words on the tips of tongues, but just as unexpectedly as they come bluestar will turn her head back to her duties.

unfortunately once tigerstar’s betrayal happens all cute flirting comes to a screeching halt as bluestar is consumed by the paranoia. on the good days she’ll hold stilted conversation with her clanmates, but not so much on the bad days. yellowfang hurts as she watches her crush sprial into madness and dysfunction, the likes of which is only heightened when the fire happens and yellowfang passes- completely insetting bluestar’s hatred for starclan for taking her love (who she still does have deeply-buried feelings for) away from her.

overall, can you tell i love inflicting mental anguish on bluestar? it’s my favourite hobby. i’m not even joking.

LEAFPOOL x MOTHWING (bi x lesbian)

okay this one might make you realise i love doomed yuri. Anyways,

put simply, i think leafpool and mothwing find each other attractive and secretly hook up on a frequent basis for some…. Funny Business. Hanky-Panky, if you will. ‘no-strings-attached’ yeah right i don’t think sapphics have ever pulled off a no strings attatched relationship without casualities.

mothwing definitely wants to confess but leafpool by that point has been forcing herself to move on and ends up telling mothwing about ‘liking’ crowfeather right before mothwing works up the courage (reading leafpool x crowfeather for the first time in the canon books geniunely felt like someone’s ao3 crackship. i guess that’s what traumabinding will do to two mfs). or maybe mothwing notices that leafpool is pregnant (which HOW THE HELL DID NOONE NOTICE IN CANON) and backs the hell off from that. maybe a very angsty argument over that… delicious.

how very ‘good luck babe’ by chappell roan of them! i think things end pretty awkwardly for mothpool and neither leafpool nor crowfeather are really in love with each other they’re just something shiny and distracting from each of their respective circuses of personal lives. i literally hear the clown music playing as they run away together. maybe it’s tinnitus.

they probably pine for each other forever and ever after that, neither falling in love again because they never get over each other. damn. how awkward is it to see your kind-of-ex at the moonpool every month…

anyway thanks for reading though beau’s cat rambles! if youve stuck it out to here… a tip of the hat to you

[meanbossart]

I finally thought of a question! What does your Astarion think of all that's happened to him, now that it's all Over, and what does Drow think about what he knows about Astarion? Does he ever contemplate and compare, does he have passing thoughts like "Oh yeah, he told me this" brought on by nothing in particular? If Drow or Shadowheart were to bring it up either when drinking, or after a heated moment, what would happen?

Thank you so much for your art and your words! Your handle on Drow made me really crack open my Tav like a nut

AND WHAT A GOOD QUESTION IT IS.

(I use some dialogue excerpts from for A Novel Experience here to illustrate my points that some might consider to be spoilery, I don't think it's stuff that would affect one's reading enjoyment too much. Still, just figured I would mention it for anyone who minds it.)

In regards to Astarion, it is understandably complicated. I think the way he's found to get by so far is by not dwelling at all in what has happened. He's tried to turn the symbolic new leaf that night in the cemetery and likes to think of himself as not only freed, but a new man open to what life has to offer him and unburdened by his past - when memories rush back, he pushes them away. When something bothers him for reasons that relate to his past experience, he tries to push past the discomfort because he doesn't want to be defined by it. He is fairly self-conscious of being seen as a weakling or a victim, especially when he's constantly confronted by DU drow's utter indifference to his own past.

He has, by all intends and purposes, done well. He understands that he's a grown man who's been given a second chance at un-life by an exceptionally lucky turn of events, he absolutely does not want to waste a second more of his own time by being sullen, broken, or guilt-striken. He thrives for as long as his past doesn't directly confront him - but when it does, the avoidance catches up and he very easily loses his cool.

His feelings regarding the decisions he made underneath Cazador's palace are mostly rigid. He's happy to not have Ascended and content that the spawn were set free, but he does not like to dwell on what their lives may be like moving forward and, if ever discussing it, does so with callousness and indifference, shutting down the conversation before it can begin. While he doesn't bask in the feeling, he does take the smallest bit of pride in the fact that he has sacrificed eternal power for the freedom of thousands - when doubt arises and he's haunted with the could-have-beens, he soothes himself with the fact that his sacrifice had a purpose.

DU drow has no moral quandries with what Astarion did while under Cazador's control or regard for the people he victimized at all, but he dwells constantly on the suffering he's endured. He flip-flops between thinking of Astarion as a perfectly capable individual and someone who is overly sensitive and finicky the moment something upsets him - someone who needs protection. He has a grand hero's complex about him and at times difficulty trusting Astarion's capacity to make his own choices - since he didn't have the opportunity for such a long time. He isn't controlling, but Astarion knows him well enough to read the doubt in his face even when he's quiet about it.

Interestingly enough, this seems to mostly apply to when Astarion's ideas go against his own, or make him feel powerless or unneeded in some way or another. He's perfectly happy to go along with his impulses otherwise - even when they seem to be made in bad judgement.

It also applies to intimacy for a while, with DU drow proceeding to avoid sex even after he's rid of his urge - not only because he's still afraid of his own desires, but also because he doesn't trust Astarion to express his agency during the act.

But that's an issue that they solve fairly quickly (well, ten-chapters-in quickly. sixteen if you only count when they first have sex since the events of the game) , especially as Astarion asserts himself as the more dominant half of the relationship.

I don't think either DU drow or Shadowheart have the nerve to use Astarion's actions while enthralled against him. DU drow because he doesn't care or thinks he's held accountable in any way, and Shadowheart because she knows better. That said, things do come up between him and other characters and then - well. He doesn't deal well with it at all: