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#they also make sure to separate their work life from their private life and that goes into their costume
shyhandart · 15 days
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wanted to show you my rainbowglider kid so far! just a WIP ☺️
Holy crap! Alternate universe siblings!!
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This is Caustic Phantom, but everyone they know calls them tommy :3
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t34-mt · 7 months
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Qua'tuli's traditional adult north-east winter clothes when he returned home, around year 217-219 of GA, before recall (timeline is in the work, numbers might change one day). Altuyur is a hot moon, but only in the far north can temperate seasons can happen.
more infos on clothes below
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info chart, I'll expand on some things I've pointed out in the drawing, so make sure to read the notes before reading the text below
The family's folklore animal:
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The northern, puy'ul families always have an animal associated with them, said association is from history that happened with the animal, but the event has nowadays turned into folklore. The stories only being transmitted orally, they slowly diverge and change to be more fantastical. The emblem animal can start off as a regular one but slowly shift into more strange descriptions, eventually ending up as a unique beast. Even if two families have the same emblem animal, the stories will never be the same. The emblem animal will often be a coastal one. On Qua'tuli's clothes, it is found in a bone disk that is hollowed out, then tissue is placed under and attached on the side, and the animal is embroidered in the tissue. They believe that emblem animals will be here after their burial at sea has been done, they think the creature will pick their core at sea and return them to haanu.
Repeated Eye designs:
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each region have a different depiction of haanu, maanul's all-mighty mother. In the north their version of her has plenty of eyes. constantly shifting from place to place like clouds passing in the sky, they slowly reemerge from her face to disappear in the wrinkles of flesh at the end of her snout. this is what haanu's face looks like in the north ->
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a while i dont have an info chart of every version available yet (ill have a separate post for the subject), this is an old sketch but still very accurate! repeated eye patterns are seen as a protection symbol in north regions
Necklace to hide neck:
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Not having clothes isn't inherently seen as sexual, as context matters, although in day-to-day life adults might have certain body parts to hide depending on region. In the north east, adult of both genders will hide their neck, and will also always have their keel hidden even in interiors when wearing lighter clothes. Although they can be shown to their partner in private settings, they're hidden for cultural beliefs.
As i said context matters so showing keel and neck in north east while bathing (they bathe in groups) will not be seen as a lack of decency, as the setting is them simply washing themselves
lucky charm
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a tooth (of an unidentified animal) qua'tuli has found as a little child in the snow, while throwing himself in the powdered snow he just stumbled upon it and has kept it as his lucky charm. He actually has it with him as a recruit (inside a pocket), and when he came home after acquiring his iron talons he kept it on his foot glove.
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rodolfoparras · 7 months
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think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141
now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid
(feral anon)
(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)
(your posts cure my gender disphoria)
A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!
It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.
However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.
It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.
Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.
“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.
“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.
“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”
She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.
The next person to find out about it is Gaz.
141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.
Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.
“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.
Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.
“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”
“Already forgotten”
The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.
“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.
Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.
“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”
Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.
“I do, sir”
“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”
“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.
Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”
Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.
Oh.
The wife.
The ring.
The captain is married.
“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”
“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.
“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”
Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”
Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”
Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.
Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.
“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.
“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”
Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”
“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.
Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”
“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”
As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.
Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.
The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.
Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.
With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.
However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.
“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.
Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.
“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”
Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.
“Captain wants to see us in his office”
And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.
It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.
Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.
Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.
“Come in”
The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.
“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”
The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.
“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.
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starboyshoyo · 10 months
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The Summer After Graduation pt. 2
Pairing: Malleus Draconia, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt x fem!reader (separately)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Genre: fluff, domestic
A/N: @ryker-writes ;) you know. It’s so early and I’m exhausted, so if there’s mistakes I’ll go back and fix them later.
Where does life take you, after you move back to Briar Valley with them?
Part 1 (Kalim, Deuce, Epel, Trey) || Part 2 (HERE)
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Malleus Draconia
In Malleus’ eyes, the moment you agreed to be his was the moment you became engaged. A relationship with him starts and stays serious and committed due to the traditions of his species. So naturally, after the two of you graduate from NRC, you move back to Briar Valley with him and his family as his first friend and first love.
There are some difficulties with hostile fae at first. The traditional council would be very against your relationship with him. But according to Briar Valley lore, draconic fae children can only be born from immense love and care between a couple. So even if the royal advisors disagree with the prince’s choice of partner, they couldn’t deny him his happiness if they ever hoped for an heir.
So despite the protests of some narrow-minded fae, Malleus is free to bring you home with him, to live as his partner and lover. Of course, Lilia is In complete support of the two of you, as is Silver. Sebek took some time to come around- he complained a lot about how no one, human or fae, could be worthy of Waka-sama’s affections. But once Lilia pointed out how happy you made Malleus, Sebek quieted down. No one had ever seen the crown prince smile the way he did when you were around.
Moving into the royal palace takes some time to get used to. It’s easy to get lost in the corridors of Castle Draconia. The hallways can also seem gloomy and cold at first, and almost frightening when you walk the stone passageways at night. If you get nervous, Malleus will do his best to be by your side as much as he can, holding your hands and cuddling you at night. If not him, then he’ll send a guard or two to watch over you.
If you want to take part in more diplomatic duties in Briar Valley and insist that you get to know the citizens as their future queen, Malleus will be worried but support you wholeheartedly. You’re considerate, responsible, and kind, three qualities that make for the best ruler. And besides, he doesn’t want you being cooped up inside all day the way he was when he grew up. While the work you’re doing may be dangerous, Malleus trusts you to handle yourself. Just make sure to bring Silver with you along with the rest of your personal guards, just in case. Fae can be unpredictable at times.
When Malleus isn’t busy with his princely duties, he’ll seek you out and whisk you away to a private wing of the castle using magic. The castle is old, and even with hundreds of years of free time, he hasn’t been able to explore every nook and cranny of it. The two of you will roam the hallways, naming the various statues you come across and slow-dancing in empty ballrooms with ancient music echoing from an unknown place within the walls.
“Briar Valley has come alive, my dear. Do you hear that? They are greeting their new ruler. This is all for you.”
At night, nothing makes Malleus happier than returning to his bedchambers to find you cuddled up in the sheets. He’ll slide into bed around you, tail unfurling to curl around your body and hold you close to him. He’ll spread his wings and rest them over your body to protect the two of you while you snuggle through the night.
Malleus might not know much about romance, but he does know when he’s found the one. He’ll have to ask the royal jewelers for a ring soon- infused with magic and inlaid with his love.
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Silver
All his life, Silver was trained to become a knight for Malleus. It’s exactly what he did in the years he attended NRC. But what Silver hadn’t realized yet was that it was more of an obligation than his true calling. After meeting you and moving back to the Valley of Thorns, Silver began craving a quieter lifestyle- one where he could enjoy your company without having to be on guard duty 24/7.
It’s Lilia who first notices Silver’s restlessness, and he takes the matter to the young king. The two of them surprise you and Silver with a little graduation present- a cottage deep in the forest. Malleus tells Silver that he’s promoted him from the title of knight to that of a lord- the land that the cottage is built upon is now his to care for and do as he pleases. He’s already had servants move yours and Silver’s things there. Silver was initially worried that he was being fired from his job for falling asleep too much, but with some reassurance from his father, the two of you were on your way.
The cottage is gorgeous, situated in a clearing with a meadow and waterfall. The sun caught the water just right every morning- creating rainbows through the spray that danced in the dawn. It’s the perfect place for you and your boyfriend to live a peaceful, quiet life. The nearby villages are peaceful ones, and don’t mind having two humans living in their vicinity. They occasionally come by to drop off homemade food or ask for Silver’s help, but otherwise it’s just the two of you.
Silver’s animal friends come by daily to help out with the chores, making the workload light. The birds do the laundry for you and hang clothes out to dry, while deer often come by to help weed the garden. Even the squirrels play their part in helping to patch up holes in the walls and roof.
With only light work, your days are spent by Silver’s side, going on horseback rides through the meadow and napping with him in the garden. Finally, you have time to learn all of the things you’ve ever wanted to do. Speaking another language? Reading a book? Learning to sew? You have all the time in the world.
Date nights become a regular occurrence; something that you couldn’t do back at the palace. One of the most memorable dates is a time where Silver covered your eyes and led you to a beautiful meadow on the mountain, overlooking a valley. As you watched, songbirds swooped down carrying a picnic basket and blanket, setting up a romantic little spot for you and Silver to lay together and watch the sun go down. While you were busy watching the stars come out, a gentle smile graced your lover’s features. Yes, the sky was beautiful- but he could never take his eyes off your smiling face.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek Zigvolt has always known his dream was to serve Malleus Draconia in any possible way. A love life and career don’t always mix, so he feels grateful that he found you- always so willing to support his dreams. It helps that you and Malleus are on friendly terms as well. Nothing makes Sebek happier than seeing his lover and his Lord get along well.
Life with Sebek in Briar Valley is pretty similar to life at NRC for a while. Besides the fact that you don’t have to attend classes, Sebek still gets up at the crack of dawn every day to do weight training and go on a morning run, to train for the royal guard exam. He’ll ask you to get up with him, but ultimately leaves it up to you. If you have trouble sleeping, he wouldn’t want to tire you out. But for a while, you won’t be getting many lazy mornings with your boyfriend.
While Sebek is gone, his family will keep you company. Sebek’s mother loves to gush about her son’s younger days and show you embarrassing photos, while his father is quite happy to have another human around for once. His brother and sister love teasing him- who knew that grumpy Sebek would end up falling so hard for a human?
It’s a little-known fact that Sebek is actually afraid of horses- he tolerated being in the equestrian club because he needed to know how to ride if he wanted to be a knight for Malleus. Sebek will want to hold your hand before he goes to riding classes in the afternoon, and he’d appreciate it if you’d watch him- he’d feel safer if you did. He’ll do the same for you when you need him to be strong for you as well.
The both of you will be so proud when Sebek finally passes the class, and is certified as a real Briar Valley knight. Lilia assigns Sebek to lead a new, special battalion, one directly under his and Malleus’ command. Sebek will wear his uniform with the crest on it- a peacock with honeysuckle and iris flowers surrounding it, and a tail made of eucalyptus leaves- proudly. He’d probably wear it to sleep if you didn’t remind him to change out of his work clothes.
Sebek is a big deal in Briar Valley, and gone for work trips often. While you do miss his company, it also gives you time to plan surprises for him, such as learning to speak his native language. While Sebek has mostly gotten over his prejudice towards humans, he’s still immensely proud of his culture as a nocturnal fae. If you take the time to learn the language of his heritage from his mother, Sebek will realize that the feelings he holds for you are not between a human and a fae, but one between soulmates.
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diejager · 1 month
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Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊
But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.
Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.
Venom!reader headcanon
Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898
Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.
It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground. 
If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies. 
It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.
This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons. 
It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled. 
He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good. 
You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score. 
You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh. 
And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-nooraa @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
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copper-16 · 2 months
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You Didn't Let Me Finish
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Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.
Usually.
Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?
(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)
Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 
The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 
And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 
Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 
The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 
Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 
It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 
But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 
It’s just, nobody had. 
But perhaps that would change. 
It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 
“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 
Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 
“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 
Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 
“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 
“Oh and–”
“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 
Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 
“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 
“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 
“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 
“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 
By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 
Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 
The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 
The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 
The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  
She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 
“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 
“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 
“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  
“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 
“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   
Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 
“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 
“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 
The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 
“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 
“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 
“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 
The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 
As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 
But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 
And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 
The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 
Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 
And god was Misa wrong. 
This woman wasn’t attractive. 
She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 
The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 
She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 
“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 
If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 
She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 
“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 
“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 
“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 
It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 
“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 
The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 
“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 
“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 
“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 
The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 
“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 
“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 
“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 
“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 
The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 
She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 
“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 
The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 
It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 
The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 
She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 
The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 
Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 
Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 
The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 
The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 
The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 
And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 
This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 
“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 
They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 
It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 
Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 
The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 
Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 
“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 
“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 
Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 
“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.
Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 
It was her choice. 
Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 
“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 
“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 
“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 
“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 
But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 
They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 
It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 
Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 
It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 
The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 
The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 
She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 
It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 
“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 
The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 
She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 
Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 
Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 
“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 
“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 
Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 
She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 
She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 
“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 
“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 
Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 
“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 
Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 
“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 
The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.
Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 
Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 
“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 
Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 
To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 
Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 
But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 
She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 
The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 
“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 
“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 
“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 
Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 
“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 
The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 
Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.
She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 
“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 
The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 
“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 
It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 
Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 
It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 
The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 
Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 
When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 
“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 
Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 
So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 
312 notes · View notes
beyondthesefourwalls · 6 months
Text
Twin Fire Signs
Summary: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions. 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.2K
Warnings: language, drinking
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You were drunk. 
There wasn’t really any denying it now, just like there was no denying that you were alone without any of the people you came here with. It took a complete lap of the bar and waiting outside of the bathrooms for an eyebrow raising amount of time for you to accept it, but it was an inevitable conclusion now: your team, your squad, had ditched you. By the looks they had exchanged in the ready room in the tower, you were sure the invitation had only been extended as a courtesy and that none of them had expected you to actually say yes. Which was fair, because up until this point, you hadn’t. But you decided to accept on a whim, high off the adrenaline from the phenomenal flying you had just done, mixed with a lapse in judgment and a previous night of feeling particularly lonely. You had been off-brand craving social interaction. Now, you were regretting it and remembering why you preferred being alone. They had bought you a few shots, and all it took was a quick trip to the bathroom for you to come back and all of them be just…gone.
You never should have let your guard down. 
There was a reason you had declined nearly every invitation from them to go out for drinks, and it wasn’t because of your desperate need to keep work separate from your private life. You knew the people on your squad were assholes, and you knew they didn’t like you all that much. You were the lone Lieutenant Junior Grade amongst a squad of Lieutenants. On top of that, the first woman of said rank to not only make it there, but be handed the trophy at the end of Top Gun. 
You were good. Very good. You knew it, and so did the rest of the squad you had been assigned to when, following your win, you were transferred from Corpus Christi and stationed at Top Gun permanently two months ago. You had come in and blown them all out of the water, and none of them particularly liked it. 
You should have known that something like this would happen tonight. 
You tried not to let it bother you as you plopped down on a barstool. The bartender, an older man tattooed from his bald head to the tips of his fingers, slid a glass of water in front of you with a roll of his eyes. You gave what you hoped was an appreciative thank you and hiccuped as you took your first sip. After downing half the glass and a handful of bar pretzels, you fumbled with your phone, looking through several rideshare apps to see which one would get you the cheapest and quickest ride home so you could sulk in private. 
You were debating if the extra ten bucks for a ride that would show up five minutes quicker was worth it when your screen switched over to an incoming call. Your eyes widened in shock at the name staring up at you. 
Lieutenant Seresin
Oh no. Oh no. 
It was almost 10pm on a Friday night and Hangman was calling you. And you were drunk. He hadn’t come out with you all tonight, but that wasn’t uncommon. If you were an outcast in one regard, he was an outcast in another. Your squad wanted little to do with you, but they worshiped him. But instead of humoring them, he spent the majority of his time with the special squadron he was also assigned to, who were spread out amongst other teams on base. 
You didn’t think that he'd said two words to you that weren’t criticism or a challenge since that day. So why the hell was he calling you now?
You considered not answering and letting the call go to voicemail. You stared at the name for so long weighing your options that the screen darkened as the vibrations stopped. You heaved out a sigh of relief, only to squeak in surprise when the phone started vibrating again. 
You tried to take a deep breath when you answered, a slightly high pitched “Hello?” being offered. You winced when it was quickly followed by a hiccup, and then another.
“Are you drunk?” 
Fuck.
“Um. Yes.” 
You winced at your answer. Being blunt was one of your many character flaws, but you probably could have tried to have a little more tact, considering who you were talking to. 
“Are you still at Lumpys?” 
“Yes,” you answered automatically, but your brows furrowed as your alcohol soaked brain processed his words. “Wait. How did you know that?” 
“Are you okay?” he asked, completely ignoring your question. The bar was so loud around you that you had a bit of trouble hearing him, but that last tequila shot must have done you in, because you could hear annoyance, certainly, but you thought maybe you heard concern, too. You took a gulp of your water to try and clear your mind, because there was no way. 
You must have taken too long to respond because he snapped out your name, your first name, and you almost gasped at the sound of it. You don’t think he’s ever actually said your name before; the deep timber of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. 
Oh no. 
Now was not the time for your thoughts to run away from you into that territory. 
“I’m drunk,” you said dumbly. 
You could practically feel the pause on the other end before he let out a sigh of your call sign that sounded almost angry. 
“Are you safe?” he asked, since you hadn’t directly answered his question on being okay. You took in your surroundings with a long glance, your normal ability to clock everything delayed. 
Lumpys wasn’t the nicest place. You had never even heard of it before tonight. It was dark and loud and smokey despite the laws prohibiting it in California. It definitely wasn’t a military bar, that was for sure. You wondered for the first time why the rest of the squad had chosen this spot when the Hard Deck was so close to base, as well as two or three other bars that were frequented by uniforms not of the biker variety. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when you realized that maybe they had done that on purpose, because you were coming with them and they knew they wouldn’t stick around. From the end of the bar, the bartender glanced at the water in front of you to see if a refill was needed before rolling his eyes again and looking away as he cleaned glasses. 
“Well,” you drew out, pushing down the unwanted emotions suddenly hitting you. “I can’t decide if the bartender is a giant tattooed teddy bear or a gang enforcer. Could go either way, honestly.”
He cursed on the other end and you thought maybe you heard the sound of a vehicle starting. You weren’t really sure, thinking maybe the loudness of the bar was making you hear things, but then his next words affirmed it. 
“Don’t move. I’ll come get you.” 
Your eyes widened and you sat up straighter in the barstool you had been slumped over in. “Wait, what?” 
“I’m coming to get you.” 
“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I was about to get an Uber or something-” 
He said your first name again, and it set butterflies loose in your stomach that you tried desperately to catch and put back in the box they came from. His voice lowered into something gentle, a tone you hadn’t heard in weeks from the fellow aviator. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in 20, maybe less.” 
You thought about arguing with him and insisting that that wasn’t necessary and you could make your way home just fine by yourself. Even if you were sober, you’d have been in charge of finding your own way home tonight. Quarterback had given you a ride from base after work, and you had assumed you’d be able to catch a ride back, too. But he was long gone with the rest of your squad. 
“I…okay,” you finally said, accepting your fate. 
He hung up without a goodbye, and you were sure if this was a regular phone call, you’d roll your eyes at how rude the gesture was. But all you could focus on at this point was the sound of your name in his voice and the fact that he was apparently coming to get you. 
You were fucked. 
You chugged your water, some of it spilling down your chin in the process. When you set the glass down it was with a little too much force right as the bartender walked by. You winced at the annoyed look he shot you. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled. He refilled your water with a glare and without a word, moving onto other customers before you could say anything else. You took another gulp of it with a grimace and then set your head in your hand, taking in a deep breath. 
Your team leader, Hangman, Jake, would be picking you up from the bar, because the rest of your squad had abandoned you after you had taken a few too many shots. 
The same one who you had more respect for than anyone else, who you’ve also maybe harbored a crush on since you came to Top Gun, and who had barely looked at you since you almost kissed four weeks ago.
Great. 
Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a legend in the small population of aviators in the US Navy. He was truly the 1% of the 1%. You tried to model a lot of your own career and techniques after him. It helped that you seemed to be similar on an instinctual level, and you had the same indifferent attitudes. Standoffish, as some would say. You both knew you were good, too good to be true in a lot of ways. You had earned the right to have the attitude. 
You had been thrilled to be assigned to the same squad as him. You were excited to learn as much as you could from him, to befriend him. And that’s what it had been, at first. The two of you flew together well, and it translated on the ground. He noticed the similarities too, and didn’t hesitate with sharing notes and advice with you. He was so passionate and intelligent about what he did, and that’s what drew you to him first. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t ashamed of it, and that had attracted you more than anything. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt, though. 
You had taken to spending time together between hops, and eventually, started talking about more than just flying. It turned out you had a lot in common outside of the Navy, too. He was so easy to talk to. But then almost a month ago, you had been alone in the rec room, talking about the previous night's Cowboys game, of all things, when he had suddenly stepped into your personal space. 
His eyes had been dark and intense, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. The intoxicating combination of his cologne and the smell of jet fuel that you had started associating with him had been even more palpable that close together. You thought he was going to kiss you, to finally give into the tension you thought had been building, and you wanted him to. But then just as quickly as he stepped forward, he had pulled away, leaving you hanging and confused.
And you’ve been that way ever since.
After that moment, things had been different between you. He barely spared you a second glance when you were on the ground and criticized everything you did when you were in the cockpit. You had tried to speak with him, to understand what the fuck had happened, but Jake Seresin was just as good at evading on the ground as he was in the air. So you buried your feelings as deep as you could inside of yourself and tried to mark him off as just another asshole who wasn’t worth your time.
But damn if the alcohol and the way he said your name and sounded something like concerned didn’t have your heart racing and you questioning everything. 
A little over fifteen minutes and another glass of water later, a shiver ran through your body. You turned your head right as the door to the bar swung open, eyes meeting the unmistakable figure of the aviator occupying your mind. He wasn’t donning his usual khaki uniform or flight suit that you were used to seeing him in — snug jeans hugged his legs and a white shirt clung to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him so casual. Your lips parted slightly as you watched him look around. He stood in the entrance, scanning the room with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes finally locked onto you.
You raised your hand in a pitiful, unneeded wave, and in the dimly lit bar, you swore you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. He started making his way through the crowd to you immediately. You watched him with wary, cautious eyes. 
“You alright?” he asked. His demeanor remained stoic, but those intense green eyes that you had admired for so long seemed to hold a blend of concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher. From this close up, you could see the way they flicked up and down your body as if assessing for himself your current state. 
“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling flushed under his scrutiny. “I’m fine.”
He gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to the bar. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet and slipped his credit card from the leather. Your eyes widened. 
“Wait, Hangman, no.” 
You scrambled for your wallet in your tiny small crossbody bag, but before you could get the zipper opened, your self-appointed savior waved you off and handed his card to the approaching bartender. You watched in defeat as the card was swiped and handed back and his signature scrawled on the receipt all in what looked like one smooth motion. Why had you not thought to pay your tab before he had shown up? You were never going to live this down. 
“Finish your water and we’ll go,” he told you as he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket. 
“It’s my third glass since you called me. If I finish it I can’t be held responsible for your upholstery.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words left your mouth. You rubbed at your temples with a groan, your face twisted into a disbelieving grimace. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that.”
To your surprise, Hangman let out a chuckle. Your eyes popped open in shock. His laughter was a rare occurrence in your presence these days, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly at the sound. Damnit.
"You did," he replied with a faint smirk, his stoic demeanor cracking just a bit. You groaned, and the blonde laughed again before he glanced around the bar, his expression settling back into something more serious. “Are you ready?” 
You slid off the barstool, feeling slightly unbalanced on your feet. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you. You sucked in a breath. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, the two of you just…stared. It was almost reminiscent of that day. But then a bottle broke from a few feet away, shattering the moment — whatever it was — right along with it. Hangman cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to his side. 
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.” You thought maybe you saw the faintest hint of red creeping up on his neck before he turned away, and your mind struggled to rationalize it. 
Once you were outside, the cool night air hit you, and it was a welcome relief. You breathed in deeply as you followed behind him to where his large black truck was parked. You knew from one of your conversations before that he had boughten it last year when he was stationed in California after only ever leasing vehicles before. It was a way for him to establish roots now that he was given the opportunity to settle in one place. 
The lights flashed as he unlocked it, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get in. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was really how your night was going. You chanced a glance at the man holding the door open and he raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the hold up was. You could have laughed at the irony. It took you a second to realize that you had. 
“What’s so funny?” he asked, and you felt the heat of embarrassment in your face. 
“Nothing,” you muttered, and you turned away before you could say or do anything else to make a fool out of yourself. 
The leather seats were comfortable when you clumsily climbed in, and the interior of the car was immaculate, crisp and clean just like you often thought he was. It didn’t surprise you a bit. Hangman settled into the driver's seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he started the engine. He handed you his phone to put your address in and as country music played quietly over the speakers, he put the truck in drive. 
You didn’t know what to say, and Hangman seemed content with the quiet. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove, the muscles in his arms flexing with every turn of the wheel. You couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like around you, holding you against him. It was a dangerous thought, and you shook it off before it could take root.
You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the seat as you let the wind from the open windows cool your skin. The effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off, leaving your mind clearer, but no less confused. Being in his presence like this was still throwing you for a loop. 
Why had he dropped everything and shown up for you tonight, after doing everything professionally possible to avoid you for the last month? Why had he ignored you to begin with? 
Why did you even care? 
Neither of you spoke the entire way, and all the questions in your head were like a stoking fire that was rapidly sparking by the time he turned into your apartment complex. Instead of dropping you off in front of your building, he pulled into one of the visitors spots and put the truck in park. He didn’t kill the engine, though, and you wondered if that meant something. 
For a moment, you both just sat there, staring straight ahead. You could feel the tension between you, slowly but surely simmering. You knew the smart thing to do would be to get out of the truck. Thank him for coming to get you and go inside, and then come Monday morning, go back to the same routine. You knew you were capable of it — you had mastered the art of indifference years ago.
“Think you’ll make it upstairs?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You frowned at his choice of words, feeling just the tiniest bit offended. You knew how it looked, being drunk and alone. But he was the one who took it upon himself to show up. He had no right to judge you. You couldn’t help the scoff you let out. 
“You didn’t have to come get me, you know. You didn’t have to call at all.” 
His eyes widened before they squeezed shut, and it was almost like he realized the tone of what he said. You shook your head with a sigh, suddenly so unbelievably tired. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you mumbled. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leant down to grab your purse from the floor. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Hangman’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could open the door. You turned to look at him and found him staring at you intently, his green eyes dark and brooding.
“Wait,” he said, his voice urgent and rough. “I’m sorry.” 
“Are you?” 
He said your name in such a way that you knew nothing would follow it, the blonde at a loss for words for once in his life. 
"How did you know where I was?" you blurted out, the words escaping before you could censor them. But the question had been plaguing you since he called, so you didn’t backtrack. You felt like you had a right to know. 
You could see the tension in his jaw before he spoke. “Quarterback.”
You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Quarterback told you where I was?”
“Yes.”
“Did he call you, or….?”
Hangman let out a long sigh, tilting his head back to rest against the seat. “The squad was at the Hard Deck like they normally are, being obnoxious —” 
“Like they normally are?” you couldn’t help but interrupt. He cracked a half smile, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes as he dipped his chin in agreement. Your shared tolerance level for the other members of your squad was something you had discussed at length before. 
“Like they usually are. I asked them where you were, since you were the only one not there and I had heard you tell them yes earlier. He told me they left you at Lumpy’s. They thought it was funny.” 
You nodded slowly, processing the information. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting, just a little bit, that they went as far as going somewhere out of the ordinary just so they could leave you there and make you the punchline of a joke. You let your eyes close and sulked in the feeling for a brief moment. You didn’t need these people. You didn’t even particularly like them, outside of being in the air. But damn. You swallowed thickly and shook your head, as if to completely dislodge the feeling. You supposed them ditching you wasn’t necessarily surprising. You knew how they felt about you, just as they knew your opinions, too. What you were surprised about was that Hangman had bothered to ask about your whereabouts in the first place. It was almost like he cared. Almost.
“So why’d you come?” you asked, still trying to understand. “I could have gotten an Uber.” 
For a long moment, he just stared, and you looked right back. His expression was hard to decipher. The streetlights outside cast shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Still, he said nothing. The silence stretched on, tension growing thick in the air. You couldn’t stand it. 
You were about to ask him again, to demand an answer, when he finally spoke. His voice was low and measured, a hint of anger looping through the words, and you shivered at the tone of it. 
“They had no right to leave you there like that. I couldn’t — I had to know you were okay.” 
You stared at him, feeling something deep and aching stir inside you. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react.  Everything was suddenly so much more complicated than it had been before.
“Jake…” you whispered, and you don’t know if it was the way you used his first name over his callsign or if he was just finally ready to get it off of his chest, but it was like the single syllable finally cracked the floodgates open. 
“I was seeing somebody,” he said. You sucked in a deep breath at the words, a soft “oh” falling from your lips. He continued on before you could think to say anything else. “For a while. Almost a year. She’s exactly what I always pictured I wanted, you know? She travels a lot, but we were figuring it out. But we were serious.” 
A beat passed, and you cleared your throat in the silence of the truck. You almost felt awkward when you asked, “Were?” 
He nodded, clenching his jaw, before laughing in a way that sounded more self-deprecating than you had ever heard from him. “I’m a lot of things, darlin. But I’m not a cheater, physical or otherwise. It wouldn’t have been so easy for me to catch feelings for someone else if she and I were meant to be together. And the way I had started to feel…” 
He cut himself off with a shake of his head, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned ghostly white. You processed the words slowly, mulling over them over and over again as you tried to figure out the implications behind them. 
“About me?” you dared yourself to ask, your heart beating hard in your chest and damn near holding your breath after you did. 
He met your gaze head on, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About you. I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but it wasn’t until that day in the ready room that I realized I couldn’t keep denying it anymore. I care about you more than I should.”
The weight of his words was heavy, and you felt a flush start to creep up your neck. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the truck, leaving the two of you suspended in a moment that felt both infinite and fleeting. You didn't know what to say, didn't even know exactly what you were feeling right now. You never thought he would feel the same way that you did, to the point where he had apparently broken up with a girlfriend you had no idea about. But then he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t acted. 
You had no idea what any of this meant. 
You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him, but before you could get a word out, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his mouth, but his lips were warm and firm and you couldn’t help the way you relaxed into it. It wasn’t more than a press of your lips together, neither of you moving to deepen it, but it left you dizzy like it was the most intense kiss of your life. 
When you pulled back, you were both breathing heavier, your foreheads pressed together. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with something that felt emotional. “I shouldn't have...not yet. But I had to know what it felt like.” 
You swallowed, focusing on one word.“Yet?” 
Hangman, Jake, nodded, and the silence stretched on for a long moment. You were still reeling from his kiss, the emotion, your own confusion over your feelings and what it all might mean. Then he sighed, loud and deep. From this close, you could smell the peppermint from the gum he always chewed on his breath. He pulled away so he could look into your eyes and cupped your cheek. The smile he gave you was tinged with sadness and longing, and the strangest mix of hope. You knew before he said anything that nothing would be happening tonight. 
“I’m not…I’m not ready yet,” he said softly. Even though you knew something of the sort was coming, there was a flash of disappointment. He must have read it on your face, because he was quick to try and reassure you. “It’s not you. It’s just…I just ended it with her. And I’m still confused as hell over what I feel for you. I think you both deserve more than me rushing into something without figuring that out. Please understand.” 
You nodded, even though you weren't entirely sure if you did. You wanted him, that much was clear. But you also didn't want to be someone's rebound. You wanted something real, something meaningful. And you were willing to wait for that. You just hoped he was too. 
“Okay," you whispered, taking a deep breath. "I understand.” 
He smiled at you again, a small, sad curve of his lips, before leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Thank you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"
You wanted him to kiss you again. You ached for it, almost. But you knew if you closed the distance that you’d be going back on everything he had just asked for and the understanding you had promised him you had. So instead, you swallowed thickly and pulled away from him all together. He seemed to understand the distance you were creating and released another deep breath, clearing his throat. 
"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "For coming to get me." 
He nodded, and the two of you fell into silence again. There was something in his eyes that made you think he wasn't done yet. "Can I walk you up to your door?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. 
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea. But at the same time, you didn't want this moment to end, either, even if it was just a few more minutes. "Sure," you finally said. 
The two of you got out of the truck and made your way up to your apartment, the silence between you heavy. He was walking so close that you could feel the body heat radiating from him, and you were starting to feel hot all over. When you reached your door, you turned to face him, unsure of what to say. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared. 
"Thank you again," you said softly.
He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he let out a deep breath. "Of course,” he said, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled when he pulled away. “I'll see you Monday?" he asked, his voice uncertain. 
You nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you then." 
He stepped away, staring for just a moment longer before he whispered out a goodnight and turned and walked back down the hallway. You watched him go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside of you. You didn't know what was going to happen between the two of you, but you thought maybe you were ready to find out. You turned to your door and pulled out your keys, taking a deep breath before unlocking it and stepping inside. 
---------------
Main Masterlist
Notes: More of The Blonde One™️needed to be added to my masterlist. I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lol. Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement!
Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 @thedroneranger for the help! And to Mak for the prettiest banner that finally gets to see the light of day😍
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glassartpeasants · 2 months
Text
How to Love
Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, semi-slow burn?, beginnings to chapters are hard </3
A/N: yeah here we are. just wanted to set a light on what the base plan is. Also, this takes place RIGHT after the prologue ends. hopefully, it's good for a first chapter.
~~~
Your heart beats harshly against your ribs as the events of only moments ago replay in your mind like a broken record. The images of the two most significant people in your world, your boyfriend and your best friend, betraying you, makes your head spin. It almost feels unreal, like a nightmare instead of reality.
But it wasn’t a dream. It was a harsh reality, a stark contrast to the life you thought you were living.
Instead of waking up next to your boyfriend, you find yourself in a disorienting place: your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend's car. Random items you managed to grab scattered across the passenger side and on your lap. The smell of Eustass’s cologne, a scent that used to bring comfort, now only added to your heartbreak, still plaguing your nose.
“Thank you, Law. You really didn’t have to.” Despite being almost inaudible, Law still heard you like you were screaming. The tremble in your voice notifies him of his own inability to speak without breaking down.
“It’s fine. Thank you for telling me about (.....)-ya’s infidelity.” The fact you even told him in the first place shocked him. You had known (.....) for years, and she was your best friend, while you only had a class project with him. Given that it was a whole semester-long, you were willing to throw away a friendship just like that. 
“You're a good guy, Law. You don’t deserve to be cheated on. Whether we’re friends or strangers. I would have told you regardless. No one deserves such heartbreak.” Law can see tears slipping down your cheeks out of the corner of his eyes. The fact that you're trying to stay strong after being the one to discover the affair is admirable in a sense. It could also be that you didn’t want him to see you cry. The latter sounds more plausible.
“I'm glad I didn’t delete your number. It would have been awkward if I had tried to catch you at work.” A small, sad chuckle left your lips. The tension in the car was too much, and you needed something to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t start wailing in front of Law.
“That would have been a scene I’m grateful we avoided. I like to keep my private life and work life separate.” 
“I’m the same in a sense. I don’t tell my co-workers much except to recommend shows or movies. I know you're more of a book guy, but have you seen any shows or movies recently?”
“(.....)-ya made me watch a movie the other day. It was a horror movie.”
“Oh. Was it good?”
“No, it was terrible.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Law's cold tone.
“Bad effects, or was it a storyline issue?”
“I could’ve made a better movie with a budget of two dollars.” Even though tears still fall from your eyes against your wishes, Law manages to make you laugh to ease the pain.
“Well, have you read any good books recently?”
“Haven’t had the time.” Law’s admission made your eyes furrow together. You know the medical field could be rough, but there wasn't enough time for him to read?
"The bookworm hasn't read recently? Are you sure you're the real Law?" A small smile tugs at the corner of Law’s lips as he listens to you talk, but even he can only hide the effects of heartbreak for so long.
Whether Law knew it or not, you could see tiny droplets of water gather in his eyes. Seeing him trying to hold it together made it just a bit harder to prevent yourself from breaking down. You grip the seat of his car and try to regulate your breathing. Clenching your teeth together,  you lay your head on the window and look outside. The sudden tap of water hitting the glass makes you jump. You look around and watch as more water droplets start hitting the car. 
“It’s raining. I thought it was supposed to be sunny all day?”
“I thought so, too.” The thick, tense silence rose once again, making it hard to breathe. If there had been enough room, you would have curled yourself up in a ball and cried. But you could do that when you get to...
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment. Just for now.”
“Ah, okay. Do you have any alcohol at your place?”
“Maybe some (.....)-ya left. Why?”
“So we can drink away our sadness.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.” A second silence covers the car.
“So I can drink away our sadness.”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
~~~
Your feet feel heavy as you walk into Law’s apartment. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside it. After the project was finished, you stopped coming over. Law’s busy schedule and your own just didn’t mix. Sometimes, you’d text him to check up on him and ask him how he was doing. He’d take hours or a day to respond, but you never held it against him. He always answered before it had been 48 hours, so it was okay with you.
Looking around his apartment, you see things that hadn’t been there before: some plants, many pictures on the wall, a TV, and some knickknacks you recognize that belong to (.....). The atmosphere was more welcoming than when you first visited Law’s apartment. If an apartment could feel like a hospital waiting room, then that’d be Law’s place before (.....) put her touch on it.
Placing your things near the couch, you take a deep breath as you rub your sternum to try and soothe the pain in your chest. All the pictures of Law and (.....) smiling happily nailed to the walls made your throat go dry. The images of your own apartment clouded your vision as you remembered your own photos with Eustass. Pictures of times when you did matching Halloween costumes, went to concerts together, relaxed at a beach together, or the two of you would just stay home. Every picture held a memory. 
A once cherished memory is now tainted by the image of betrayal. No amount of effort can make that image disappear. Even your happiest memories become blurry when you hear (.....) calling out Eustass's name. It ignites a fiery rage inside you, and seeing (.....)'s face everywhere makes you clench your teeth. You feel like tearing apart every picture of Law and (.....) just to remove her face from your sight. Every bone in your body screams at you to lose control. To destroy everything that reminds you of Eustass and (.....) until it is nothing but microscopic pieces.
But you weren’t home. The home you once had was now lost to time. For now, your ‘home’ depends on whether Law will allow you to stay the night for tonight.
“You can stay the night on the couch for tonight if you want. I have blankets in the closet over there.” You let out an internal breath of relief from Law, answering your question without being asked.
“Thank you, Law. Can I make you dinner or something? Just so I can repay your kindness?” You watch Law lean against the kitchen counter before crossing his arms. His eyes staring out into space.
“I haven’t gone shopping yet this week, so I don’t have much.”
“I’m sure I can craft up something.”
“If you want, then go ahead.” The sound of a ringtone brings a silence to the both of you. You check your phone and see the screen’s black.
“I think it’s yours.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket, you watch Law look at the screen. A frown crosses his face immediately, letting you know the caller. Letting out a heavy sigh, you watch him answer the phone.
“What do you want (.....)-ya?” While you couldn’t understand what she was saying, the tone of her voice was frantic. You could hear sobs coming from the other line. Hearing them pissed you off to hell and back. Didn’t (.....) have a shred of decency? How dare she plead and beg after she committed such an act?
You had to sit on the couch to calm yourself down just so you wouldn’t start screaming at (.....) through the phone. As soon as your body relaxed on the couch, a wave of soreness came over you. It feels as if you’ve been working out for hours on end and only now stopped. Even your eyelids felt heavy as you feel tears starting to form and blur your vision. Trying to breathe normally falls short as you begin to hyperventilate. Your lungs burn as you can feel your throat constricting. It feels like you're swallowing your heart just to keep yourself quiet.
“I meant what I said (.....)-ya. I’m breaking up with you, and that’s final. You can come get your things tomorrow afternoon.” Hearing Law’s voice helped soothe a part of your aching soul. Hearing something other than your own ragged breathing helped calm down the streams of tears that were flowing down your face.
“I’m done talking with you (.....)-ya. Goodbye.” The sound of Law’s calls ending made you rub your face, trying to hide the tears that plagued you seconds ago.
“Your more civil than I would have been. I probably wouldn’t have even picked up her call.” Your voice cracked as you tried to let out a small laugh.
“She was asking me for a ride. Apparently, her and Eustass got in a fight, and he threw her out in the rain.” Scoffing in disbelief, you turn your head to look at Law, hoping he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes.
“She asked you for a ride after cheating on you? Serves her right, getting thrown in the rain. Hope she gets a cold.” You can see Law’s body tremble and how he bites his lip. His eyes get glassy as he looks at the ceiling.
“Fucking a man.” Even from across the room, you can hear Law whispering to himself. You hated seeing him like this. Watching someone you care about hurt only adds to the pain you feel.
“Hey…do you wanna watch something to get our minds off them?”
“I should go back to work. They probably need me.” You let out a hum, hearing his words. A slight feeling of rejection crosses your mind, but you're quick to shake it off. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. And if he was the type to work away his feelings, who were you to stop him?
“Well, drive safe. It sounds like the rain is hitting harder.” The sound of rain beating against the windows of Law’s apartment was finally acknowledged. Its beat almost matched Law’s own heartbeat as he thought about the phone call only minutes ago.
Hearing (.....)’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as she tried to explain what happened. The voice that once calmed his aching heart was now the reason it hurt. It was astonishing how fast his whole world flipped upside down. Earlier today, he couldn’t wait to come home and see (.....) and have her talk to him about her day. But now, instead of (.....) smiling at him, you were sitting on his couch with puffy eyes.
The way he could hear the tremble in your voice and how the light shined against the path of tears left on your face made his own wave of emotions try to surface. Even if he could tell you were trying hard to hold them back, he could see tears collect against your eyelashes. The sight had tears accumulating in his own eyes, making him look up at the ceiling to try and stop them. He didn’t need to show how bad (.....)’s betrayal has affected him. At least not in front of you.
Sure, you guys were going through the same thing together, but it wouldn’t help him or you if he let his own emotions out. It’d just be easier to shove them down, ignore them, and work until the pain left. He’s done it before, so he can do it again. 
“Um, Law?” Looking back down, he sees you standing in front of him. You refuse to meet his eyes as you fiddle with the bottom of your shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Can I hug you?” Law felt his heart skip a beat hearing your request. A part of him told himself no that he’d break down the moment you wrapped your arms around him. Yet, the voice of someone he used to know told him something different.
“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt your body smushed up against his. Your arms held him in a tight embrace as the sound of your hushed sniffles made Law finally cave. Wrapping his own arms around you, a sense of comfort filled him. The feeling of being cared for once again was nice yet terrifying. As soon as the feeling would come, it’d leave just as fast.
But for now, he’ll indulge in your hold.
~~~
The blanket that wrapped around you did little to replicate Law’s hug. Sure, you were warm, but it wasn’t the same. It reminded you of how alone you were. You had no family in this city, and your only friends were (.....) and Law, but you wouldn’t count him as an option due to the current predicament. It felt like you were running in circles with every idea that popped into your head. Always leading to a dead end and making you start all over again.
You couldn’t go back home. It’d take you around three to four hours to drive there! Plus, you didn’t leave on a good note with your parents when you left for college. And if their last words to you were anything to go by, they didn’t want you back. You shake your head at the thought of your parents.
“No. No need to drag myself down even more thinking about them.” Slithering your hand out of your blanket cocoon, you grab your phone that was on your right. The black screen stared at you as it showed your reflection. Eyes red from tears earlier and a cut lip from biting on it so hard earlier.
A ding echoes across the empty apartment as the phone's black screen soon turns on. The quick flash makes your eyes burn before squinting to try and get used to the brightness. Once adjusted, you see a message from Law hiding in your notification bar.
-“I need a favor from you.”
-“Sure, what ya need?”
-“(.....)-ya is supposed to be getting her things this morning. I want you to make sure she takes everything and leaves her key in the dish by the door.”
A frown skims across your face as the thought of seeing (.....)’s face makes your stomach churn. It’s only been a day, and you're already forced to see her face? At the same time, Law did allow you to stay the night last night. So, despite your distaste for seeing (.....), you agreed.
-“Will do. Can count on me :)”
-“Thanks.”
-“How’s working going so far?”
-“Fine.”
-“That's good”
The urge to ask him what his plans were with you after you did him this favor ate at your conscience as soon as you sent that last text. Law was really the only one whose place you felt safe enough to sleep at. And he’s the only person you have in the entire city. You didn’t have a license since a lot of things were always within walking distance, so you never had a reason to. 
But now, you were on the complete other side of the city. What used to be a five-minute walk to your job now would take at least thirty minutes. You had no idea where anything was on this side of the city. Sure, you and Law would go grab an energy drink from the gas station when the two of you worked the night away on that old project, but that was two years ago. Who knows? Maybe that gas station doesn’t even exist anymore!
“Do you go here a lot?”
“To buy an energy drink and coffee every now and then.” The sound of small pebbles crunching under your and Law’s shoes goes unnoticed as you walk next to him.
“Okay, so every day then?” A laugh escapes your lips as Law rolls his eyes, yet a small smile plays against his lips.
“This gas station is the only place that sells my favorite one.”
“Which is?”
“Can’t tell you. What if you take it?” A smirk appears on his lips as he puts his hands in his pockets. Scoffing, you place your hand on your chest in fake offense.
“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me. Stealing your beloved drink? Only a monster could be so heartless!” Hearing Law let out a chuckle from your words made a heavy feeling of confidence run through your veins. He was always relatively quiet when in class, so it was nice to see him show emotion other than ‘bored.’
“How much farther? I’m dying to know the favorite drink of the future best doctor in the world.” A faint pink tints Law’s skin as he tries to look away from you, hoping you don’t see what your comment did to him.
“You really think so?” Despite trying to copy your playful tone, you can hear his self-doubt and hopefulness that your words were true.
“I know so! No one works harder than you! If anyone says otherwise, tell me and I’ll kick their ass.” Law could feel his palms grow sweaty, and his heart beat a little faster. 
Sure, he’s gotten praise from his teacher, but hearing it come from someone he had just met and barely knew felt a little more sincere? Why, he didn’t know, but he won’t complain.
“Will do.”
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound of light knowing pulls you from your memories. Looking up at the clock, you see it’s nearly three pm. You sigh as you shed the multiple layers of blankets you were snuggled in. The rage and anger from yesterday are still strong in your system, making you clench your fists. You walk towards the door when you hear your fingers popping from the sheer force. Unlocking it, you take a deep breath before fully opening it.
In front of you stood a very unkempt (.....). Her hair was in a messy ponytail, accompanied by red eyes and a red face. Makeup from the night before was still applied to her skin as mascara streaked down her face. Your eyes even caught the barely covered hickeys and bite marks that shined through her concealer.
“(Y-Y/N)?...Why are you…Where’s Law?” Her pitiful voice made you squeeze the doorknob tighter to try and calm yourself.
“He’s at work. Not that it’s any of your business, but he was kind enough to let me spend the night.” Your eyes narrowed at her as you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the marks on her neck. Noticing your stare, (.....) moved her shoulder to cover her neck.
“I see…” You move to let her in and shut the door behind her. She lets out a shaky breath before beginning to take down the multiple pictures hanging along the wall. The sound of sniffles hits your ears as you watch her grab the frames with shaky hands. Listening to her hold back tears made you struggle to hold your own.
How could she have done this? Years of friendship only to throw it away for some dick? Did you mean so little to her? You’ve been with her for everything! Breakups, grandparents passing, getting in trouble together, anything and everything you’ve done for her! If she needed a kidney transplant, you would’ve volunteered right away!
Now, seeing how a friendship can easily be thrown away like trash after years made bitterness fill your heart. If your best friend and boyfriend could betray you without so much of a second thought, what does that say about the strangers all around you?
What does that say about you? Did you do something to deserve this? Was (.....) mad at you and thought fucking your lover would get back at you? There had to be a reason. To be an explanation for the horror you saw yesterday. Maybe after a drink or two after (.....) leaves will calm you down.
~~~
“You got everything?”
“Yeah.” Just as she was about to walk out the door, you remembered that she still hadn't given you the key.
“I need the apartment key.” Putting your hand out, you move your eyes to your hand and back at her.
“I-I don’t have it.” Furrowing your brows, you sigh.
“Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you for years, and I know when you lie. Now give me the goddamn keys (.....).” You watch (.....) bite her lip before digging into her jacket pocket. The light shined off the key as she gently put it in your hands.
“Can you say goodbye to Bepo for me?” Confusion hit you like a train at her request.
“What the hell are-you know what? Fine. I’ll say bye.”
“Thanks.” Closing the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. After locking the door behind her, you placed her old key in the dish Law has near the door for his keys. (.....) request puzzled you as you tried to think of what she was talking about.
“What the hell is a Bepo?”
Just then, a light pitter-patter echos in the apartment. Your heart stops as the sound gets closer. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment but you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to move quietly towards the kitchen to grab something to defend yourself.
“Meow!” You stop in your tracks upon hearing that noise. Embarrassment floods your body as you move even closer to the noise. Upon turning the corner, you see a white cat walking in your direction. A big white cat.
“Can’t believe I got spooked by a damn cat. Didn’t even know Law had a cat…a fatass one nonetheless.” Bending down, you move your hand to let the cat smell you. A smile appears on your face when it rubs against you.
“Hmm? What’s this?” Moving the fluff from his neck, you see a collar with a tag. Squinting your eyes, you finally see the name engraved on the tag.
“Ohhh…your Bepo! Well, aren’t you a cutie-pie?” With (.....) 's request finally making sense, you fight to actually fulfill it. With a sigh, you pick up Bepo and hold him gently. 
“Let’s send your dad a selfie. I think he’ll appreciate it.” You go to the couch, pick up your phone, and find the right angle for the picture. When you find the right spot, you smile as Bepo rubs his head against your face.
“Say cheese!”
~~~
It’d been a long day at the hospital. It felt like nothing went right. Sure, he put in his all, but he had to tell people how they were diagnosed with a terminal illness or dealing with dumb co-workers. The only good thing today did for him was keep (.....) out of his head. But now that work was over, the nagging thoughts could finally bother him once more.
Sighing as he unlocked his apartment door, he was immediately hit with the smell of something cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and he was happy that he didn’t have to make anything tonight. When he went to put his keys in the dish designated for them, he saw (.....)’s key lying in the middle. A wave of relief washed over him as he finished taking off his shoes and coat.
“Oh, Law, are you home?” Your voice rings in his ears as he walks further into his apartment. He spots you setting up the table while humming to yourself.
“Yeah, I’m back. Did you make something?”
“Well, you’ve been at work for sixteen hours, so obviously, you should be hungry! Not to mention that you deserved a home-cooked meal after working so hard.” Moving closer to the dinner table, he sees a plate of grilled fish along with a can of what looks to be sparkling water. The smell of his favorite food drew him closer, and he felt a sense of calm filled him. It’d be the second night in a row you made him dinner.
“Where did you get the fish? I don’t remember having any?”
“Oh, after (.....) took her stuff and left, I used GPS to find a store nearby, and there was an organic type of food store only two blocks away! So I went shopping and got things! Except for beverages, so I stopped by the gas station we used to go to and got sparkling water 'cause you don’t drink and no way you’d drink an energy boost at eight pm.” You continued talking, but it was lost on Law’s ears as he stared at the set-up table. The fact you put yourself to go grocery shopping and making him dinner made his sour mood from only moments ago lighten.
“Thank you.” As he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he sees his beloved cat following you and purring.
“I see you’ve met Bepo.” Upon speaking, the cat changed his attention to Law. Bepo begins to meow as he prances towards Law’s feet before rubbing against them. Leaning down, Law gives him a few pets before washing his hands.
“I didn’t even know you had a cat. Did you just get him?”
“No. I’ve had him for almost a year and a half. Why?” He watches you lift your eyebrows and look at Bepo before looking back at Law.
“What?”
“Law. Do you see how big that cat is?” Despite just washing his hands, Law picks up Bepo and holds him in his arms.
“What about it? He’s growing.”
“That cat is obese. He needs a diet.”
“Bepo is perfect the way he is.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him hold Bepo protectively and away from you.
“You can be delusional all you want, but come eat before the food gets cold.” Turning your back, you begin to dish up after washing your hands. You can hear Law rewashing his own before sitting on the opposite side of the table.
As awkward as it may be, the presence of one another brings a slight calm to your new chaotic world.
~~~
TAGLIST: @yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck i hope i got everyone and if i didn't im sorry. I tried writing everyone's names
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junnieverse · 7 months
Text
IT GIRL L♡VER ➳ ENHYPEN
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➙ what it's like for enhypen to be dating their s/o who is also an idol
pairing: enhypen x afab!reader
genre: fluff, a tiny bit suggestive under heeseung's
request: " Cutie patotiiiiii. What do we think about enhypen dating an idol s/o? Maybe even the it girl of the generation? Sending you lots of love <3 ~ sunshine ☀️"
a/n: here it is anon, thank you for the request sweetie and sending you even more love right back, hope you like it!
a/n (2): it has also been brought to my attention that @/rlcswo on tiktok has stolen this word for word so please do go and report this user everyone
a/n (3): shameless self promo, I have a new enha series (still ongoing) so please do check it out, thank you <3
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🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !
he is constantly doing covers of your group's dances
he is a bit more lowkey and 'professional' about your relationship
more 'private but not secret' because he knows how you both need to keep your work separated to your private life
but he will be posting his selcas with you to show fans how smitten he is
jungwon is already incredibly active on weverse always replying to fans but now talking about you is all he ever does
'Jungwon how was your day?' a fan would ask
'Just had lunch with my sweet (y/n) and now I'm going to practice!'
biggest simp ever actually
sees you on the big screen during an award show and he's all smiles now, it's adorable :(
but ofcourse you would be displaying the biggest grin ever seeing jungwon shining on stage too
🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !
this man would risk it all for your relationship
whenever you were both together in public he would always be overly affectionate (giving dispatch a field day with the amount of content)
he knows you want to keep things a bit more private despite being in a confirmed public relationship because engene are a little... yeah
but ofcourse majority of them were very supportive and found you and hee to be such a cute couple
the amount of edits of him giving you 'the look' and fans constantly commenting how they wished they were you even for just a second
you'd usually try to stay composed around heeseung but your boyfriend was a tease and he wanted to see you become a flustered mess even on camera
k-netz knew this too because during an enhypen performance, when heeseung's part would come up the camera workers would always try to get the camera on you to get your reaction
let's just say there are many YouTube compilation videos of you simping for your boyfriend
'(Y/n) folding for Heeseung for 8 minutes straight'
🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !
jay usually keeps your relationship with him private unless it is brought up or he has something to say about you relating to something he was talking about
"Speaking of actually, (Y/n) showed me how to play this new song on my guitar." jay says during the live as he played a few chords
and during the en o clock episode where he was making muscles for the boys, he wasn’t sure on how to make them and so he called you to help him
fans found it endearing how he causally stayed on the call with you throughout him cooking and his phone would pass around the boys whilst they all said hi and made small talk with you
it soon became a normal thing where during lives if you were to call you would say hi to engene and during your lives he would say hi to your fans
he's always buying you gifts
during your lives there is atleast one item you have on that you'll mention saying you got it as a gift from jay
jay is very much into his rock music and that's pretty much 95% of his Spotify and then the other 5% is your group's songs
🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !
the most supportive boyfriend ever
best believe he is cheering the loudest during your performances and when your group wins an award
if it's one thing jake was gonna do, it was shamelessly promote you and your group's music
he plays atleast one song from your group during his solo lives and he talks about which songs he likes more and how hard you worked on it
during interviews, just from hearing your name he becomes like a happy pup wagging it's tail like it's time for his walk
the members always tease him for how much of a simp he is but fans find it so cute and wish for a jake of their own
'10 minutes of Jake being (Y/n)'s biggest fan'
you both have matching couple rings that you never take off even during performances
overall just super proud to call himself your boyfriend :(
🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !
when ni-ki mentioned how sunghoon has high standards he wasnt lying, but then again you are the standard :p
a complete show off unlike jungwon
"Oh you know (y/n)? Yeah they're my girlfriend, isn't she pretty." he would say during a live
despite your protests telling him to stop he just wants everyone to know that your his
now he's all boastful when you aren't there but the minute you're both in one room, it's like he doesn't know how to act
hoon becomes almost robotic and can't even maintain eye contact with you
gets all shy in front of everyone and can't show you any pda
you both had to mc together once and hoon kept stumbling over his words and would blush everytime you looked over to him and smiled
the 4th gen it couple everyone loves and wants to be or be like
🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !
being called the 'sunshinez' as your couple nickname
loves spending time with you
he passed the friend check too and your members absolutely adore him (just as much as the enha members adore you)
you didn't know this until he mentioned it on a live but he collects your pcs
your no. 1 fanboy that's for sure
fans even noticed how you'd both started picking up small habits from each other
the couple that has all the juiciest tea on people in the industry
fans soon found out you'd actually been supporting him since his i-land days and found it so special
he posts atleast one photo he has with you atleast once a week and it's always the cutest thing
🖇️ — 西村 力 ; NI-KI !
he loves seeing you wearing his clothes during lives or part of your airport fashion
similarly to jake, you and riki have matching couple necklaces that you always have on
now riki usually keeps to himself but when it comes to you he suddenly comes out from his cave
he could disappear without posting for weeks to a month but when your group has a comeback he is the first to post it on his weverse to promote it and fans will tease him about it
'Ni-ki coming out of the trenches to hype up his girl' fans would say
'You'll know Riki's alive when he makes a post about or with (y/n)'
ofcourse netizens are quick to notice that too calling it couple goals
if he's not out with jake then he's either at home or with you, no in between
he's always sharing inside jokes he has with you to fans and they love how happy you make him
if ni-ki isn't updating fans, they come to you begging you to tell your boyfriend and miraculously he updates on social media
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Text
Phone Fun
Pairing  ::  Tangerine x  fem!Reader
Warnings  ::     18+ Content, SMUT/NSFW, Phone sex, Masturbation(F&M)
Word Count  ::  1310
Summary  ::  Tangerine’s been gone for a while and you each miss each other a lot
A/N  ::  I KNOW I’VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE EVER BUT we should have all accepted by now this is the type of person I am. I am sorry. Please forgive me for my laziness.
It’s not funny like at all how quickly I became a slut for this man. I even bought the book Bullet Train so I could get more of him. I also might make a small/mini series for him bc I think it’s hilarious if he dated someone who had no clue he was an assassin.
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Tangerine is a professional. He does his job by the book(at least to the best of his abilities, given his line of work), quick and easy. He isn't the type to make mistakes or take risks. With that being said, he does everything he can to keep his work life and private life completely separate, even if that means lying to the person he loves most.
You hadn’t the slightest clue as to who he actually was. Everything you knew about him was an intricately fabricated lie of a life he created for you to believe. For starters, he told you his name was Gordon, and Lemon’s was Thomas. Lemon was happy he used names from Thomas The Tank Engine but would’ve preferred they had gone by Donald and Douglas since they’re brothers. Then, he told you he and Lemon both worked for a private security service firm that worked high-profile jobs. With this lie, you never questioned when he traveled to foreign countries for various periods of time. However, this also led you to presume he worked somewhat normal hours.
On more than one occasion, you called Tangerine while he was in the middle of work, and being the worry-wort he was when it came to you, he immediately answered after scrambling to find a decently quiet place to talk to you. Luckily, the calls were never because anything had happened to you or you somehow magically learned about the double-life he led and now wished to cut all ties with the contract-killer. Typically it was because you simply missed him and walked to talk to him for a bit, making sure he was okay.
Lemon always thought a simple text would have sufficed rather than a call. When he told Tangerine to tell you so, he received a menacing glare in response. After that, he completely threw out the thought of convincing him to tell you the truth.
Today’s call was not normal though.
“God am I glad you called.” Tangerine sat down on his bed, glad Lemon was out grabbing food so he could have a private chat.
You were able to hear clearly through the phone his exhaustion. “Was it rough today?”
He let out a deep sigh, earning a small chuckle. “You have no idea love.”
“You’ll be home soon, right?”
“Yeah, in two days.”
“I miss you so much.”
He was gone for nearly a month, jobs booked back-to-back. Before this, the longest he had been away was barely under two weeks.
Tangerine was looking forward to engulfing you in a large hug and pressing his lips against you in a passionate kiss. You never admitted it, but you became quite needy whenever he was gone. He never had any complaints since the sex when he got when he came back was always amazing. He couldn’t wait to toss you onto the bed, though he doubted if you two would make it to your room before you started your fun.
“This is gonna sound silly but…” You were hesitating. He was sure you had that shy smile you always put on when you were embarrassed right now. “I’m only wearing one of your button-ups right now.”
Only. That word rang in his head like a bell. “Oh really?”
Even though you knew he was returning soon, you were still incredibly lonely. Without thinking you grabbed one of his shirts and immediately a small smile formed due to the familiar scent that lingered. He didn’t use harsh over-bearing cologne that had multiple ingredients mixed creating a headache of a smell. Rather, he used a simple citrus herbal mix. Hints of orange and lemon hid under a woodsy scent with a slight spice.
Then, a slightly devious plan formed in your head, leading you to this very moment.
“Mhm.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile even though he couldn’t see you.
“And what are you doing right now?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“I think you’re waiting in bed for me to come fuck you.” The sudden drop in tone shot a tingle down your spine, the warmth between your thighs growing.
“Ding-ding.”
“Have you started touching yourself?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted to tease you.”
A dark laugh left his lips. “You know I don’t enjoy being teased love.”
“Exactly.”
Whenever you made the reckless decision to tease him, he would often end up turning the tables and turned you into a moaning mess. Sometimes you did it on accident, other times it was on purpose because you loved how worked up he’d get.
You let out a soft hum, starting by massaging your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow so you know everything I’m doing.” You pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.
You always knew how to turn him on. It was truly a gift you had. Hearing your small satisfied hums, he began to grow hard and found himself palming the bulge in his pants that was forming.
One of your hands traveled downwards to start rubbing your wet folds. “Hnng...” You imagined he was here with you, taking care of your needs. You rubbed a small circle around your clit, doing your best to enjoy the moment instead of speedily making yourself cum.
Hearing a small zip and fabric moving, you knew he was doing the same. He began stroking his length, remembering the tightness of your cunt.
You were growing wetter by the second, so when you moved your other hand down to insert a finger a soft sucking sound of the mess you were creating was now heard. This caused his dick to twitch, eager to be wrapped around you.
You stopped rubbing your clit momentarily to stick in a second finger and begin pumping, hoping the wet sounds would excite him. Precum began beading at the top of his cock so he used it to help lubricate his shaft. Going at a pace that matched yours, his grip was tight but paled in comparison to your cunt.
Both of you could hear the other’s desperation in your moans. You each wanted to touch one another so badly but had to suffice with the situation at hand.
Deciding you needed more friction, you pulled your fingers out and sat up.
“What are you doing now, love?”
Shamelessly you replied, “I’m going to ride your pillow darling.”
“Fuck.” His balls tightened.
As your hips began rocking back and forth on his pillow, he began to thrust up in the air, each of you pretending you were riding him now.
Growing closer, you started rubbing your clit again, your fingers moving much harsher than before. He was also getting ready to cum, so he quickly threw off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt so that way they wouldn’t get ruined.
Your paced hips grew sloppy and your panting much louder. His groaning was becoming deeper, pumping and thrusting as if he was fucking.
“Ahh!”
The heat building in your stomach was begging to be released. You stopped moving, straddling the pillow with your hand between your legs. Your hand moved quickly across your clit until the tingling sensation finally broke. Your entire body tensed up, continuing to press firmly against the sensitive nub while your pussy clenched to release.
With his own muscles tense, hearing your cry of pleasure his cock twitched again, finally ready to cum. His tight sack finally contracted, releasing hot shots of cum that landed right on his abdomen. He released his hold, his cock continuing to jump as his entire load came out.
The only thing that could be heard now were the small breaths you were each taking to compose yourselves.
“Well this was fun,” You said while flopping onto your back.
“Fun, but not as good as the real deal.”
“Two more days until then.”
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pedriscroquettes · 7 months
Text
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐄 – GAVI
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summary. fighting for the top spot of your class is hard when the boy next door is set on beating you at everything.
warnings. academic rival!gavi,f!oral, academic exhaustion, & various mentions of golf.
a/n. finally getting to my follower bash lol golf vocabulary
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you sighed in frustration as you failed to solve the equation, again. the work on your notebook staring back at you as if to make fun of you. you stand up from your desk immediately wincing at the pain of having your foot asleep for hours. you’d think you’d be used to it by now due to how many hours you spent seated daily.
a faint knock is heard from outside your door. you limp as you walk towards the door to open it. your dad awaits you on the other side — the other side of the door separating you from society — with an awkward smile. he hated seeing you like this, overworked that is, he always offered to hire a tutor but you always refused. you were privileged, always having the money to advance your studies but you insisted on doing everything yourself after all you wouldn’t have tutors with you at your future job.
“you know i could always ask mr. páez?” he suggests hoping to finally have you rest.
your eyes go wide at his suggestion. your father had surely gone insane. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting having gavi help you. the one thing standing between you and the first rank of your class was the sevillian. the two of you being tied for the last two years, you couldn’t let him know you were struggling with such a simple problem.
“and lose my dignity? no. i probably did something wrong when solving i’ll figure it out.” you paced around the room.
“alright. don’t stress yourself out. you can always ask your professor for help.” he sighs as he heads to his room.
except you couldn’t. you had something to prove and you would do it yourself even if it cost you your friends and social life. most especially you couldn’t lose your number one spot to gavi of all people. growing up with him had been a nightmare to your dad and his parents. the two of you constantly tried to one up each other in every subject, including sports. his parents spending endless amounts of money making sure he’d get a spot on the spanish team like he wished all his life and your father despite being a single one always made sure you were up to lessons in golf.
gavi would score a hat trick one day and the next you’d score an eagle. the day he made the real betis academy he didn’t even celebrate knowing you’d somehow find a way to surpass his achievement. and you did scoring private lessons with annika sörenstam. it also didn’t help that your parents were close friends always spending time with each other — analyzing each others weaknesses and strengths — it was an exhausting predicament. you didn’t even understand why he wanted the number one spot he already had his dream as professional football player secured.
you spent the next two hours revising your notes trying to remember how to solve a simple equation. reviewing your own work you realized you had forgotten to square root a number and instead of feeling accomplished when you turned in your assignment all you felt was embarrassment. specifically when you noticed gavi had turned in the assignment hours earlier. you could’ve cried in that moment but instead you changed into your workout clothes and grabbed yours clubs immediately heading towards the neighborhood’s driving range.
it was usually closed during this time of day but you were one of the few allowed to use it whenever you wanted. the owner of the country club along with the rest of the neighborhood expected you to make your LPGA tour debut sometime this year and thus let you use the range at any time of the day. the driving range was the only time you found peace these days. your father had expected you to outgrow the sport that eventually the pressure would get to you but it was the opposite. the sport brought you peace.
the sound of your iron hitting the ball over and over again was music to your ears. you stared as the pathway of each ball was straighter than the previous one. the faint light that illuminated the end of the driving range allowing you to see how far the balls landed. you were about to switch to your driver when the sound of leaves rustling interrupts your nightly routine. you ignore it at first thinking it’s probably just squirrels but then the faint noise turns into footsteps.
you clutch your driver scared as to what is hiding amongst the darkness. a figure emerges from the other end of the driving range and you’re about to yell for help when you recognize the gray nike tech they’re wearing. of course he was awake as well and that’s when you remember the football field is on the other side of the range. you thought it was funny how the two of you would always find time for your sports.
“do you ever sleep?” he’s the first one to break the awkward silence between the two of you.
“if i did you’d be ranked first.” you reply curtly before swinging your driver aiming your ball even further than before.
“you know some of your balls end up on my field.” he changes the subject.
“how do you know they’re mine?” you place your driver into your bag and take off your glove. you could relax for a few minutes. at least while the brunette bothered you.
“you’re the only one capable of swinging them that far.” he shrugs.
it was true. your competitiveness had allowed you to find motivation every time you swung any of your clubs. it also didn’t help that your dad would take you to the PGA Tour Championship every year and you always wanted to swing the ball like tiger woods or rory mcilroy. you were truly a nightmare for your trainers and your father never wanting to leave the course before seven pm.
“why are you here gavi?” you turn around to face him. he looked like you, tired and stressed. his eye bags almost as dark as yours. his hair messy but it fit him in a way. you realized he was probably running drills since he had an away game with the academy this weekend.
“how do you do it?” he steps closer analyzing you. he takes his hoodie off in the practice allowing for the dimly lit street light to shine on his hair. “how do you deal with all the pressure?”
there had only been one previous conversation between the two of you where you forgot about your stupid rivalry and helped each other out. it had unfortunately led to a very awkward kiss between the two of you. a kiss that hadn’t been brought up sense and placed into the back of your mind.
“i don’t. it’s literally two in the morning and i’m practicing my swing.” you let out a deep breath. “you?”
“used to have been able to calm myself down with gummies but they don’t work for me anymore.” he places his hands into his pockets suddenly embarrassed at his oversharing. “been trying to find another way to ground myself but even football can’t do that for me right now.”
there’s a loud silence between the two of you. his suddenly burst of oversharing breaking boundaries that had been pre-established between you and him. you barely notice the way he gets closer to you almost as if you let him get near you.
“gavi no offense but why are you telling me all this?” you say with valid points as the brunette had never once tried to make an effort to talk to you before.
there’s a long pause between your question and his answer. he debates on whether he should he completely honest with you or to compress his feelings for even no longer.
“because i hate the way everyone just likes you and the way you sailed through school and can work for hours on end without getting tired and the fact that you just did work for two days straight and still look perfect, because you always do-“ his eyes go wide at how much he’s confessed already. “it’s not fair that you can just be relaxed after all th-”
“sailed? sailed?!” you simply stared at him with disbelief. “gavi i worked my ass off to get to where i am today. my dad didn’t pay for me to have advantages, i didn’t get everything handed to me on a silver platter, i did it on my own. do you realize how many hours i spend daily on my work? on making sure you don’t take away my spot?” your voice roars through the empty driving range.
“i didn’t-”
“no. let me finish gavi.” you continue your rant. “also it’s not fair that i can be relaxed? you think this is relaxing? swinging golf balls at two in the morning? you’re an unbelievable conceited prick. you don’t even need the number one spot anyways you have a guaranteed spot for club and country. you’re set for life?!” you stare at him with utter disgust.
“you’re set for life too? your dad literally owns the biggest food provider in sevilla you’re guaranteed a job at his company.” he fights back. “you’re nothing but a brat.”
he drives you against the hard cold wall of the concessions stand with each harsh word he says. his insults grow harsher but you hardly pay attention the veins in his neck gaining your attention with every hateful word he says. maybe it’s the lack of sleep or vitamins in your body but you suddenly forget he’s the guy separating you from achieving your lifelong dream of disassociating yourself from your dad’s company.
he notices your thoughtful glare as he continues on and on with his rant without any interruption from you. your eyes digging into his in a way they never have. his hand creeping too close to your face and not to harm you but rather to just feel your warm cheeks against his palm. the two of you get lost in each other’s stress and pain. his lips finding their way to yours in a dominant kiss.
it’s embarrassing for the two of you just how quickly you forget about your hatred for each other. maybe you’d go back to despising each other for pursuing each others dreams after the kiss but right now you could only find a stress reliever in each other. his lips are soft but harsh on yours. you’re not looking for a sweet moment but rather a quick and dominant one to forget about your current problems. many groans leave your lips as he makes his way from your lips to your neck.
he’s careful not to leave any marks but he attacks your neck in a pleasuring way. his hands digging into your hips as you adjust your neck to give him more access. he carefully unzips your jacket careful to not damage it. he’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in months but as soon as he sees your laced bra something shifts in his mind. his kisses trail down from your neck to the valley of your breasts. this time he sucks above your right breast intentionally leaving a mark.
he looks up to your pleading eyes. he knows your look. so he gets to the point, kneeling down, and with your leg on his shoulder. he drags his hand up teasingly until his fingers are practically teasing your core. your panties ruined from your wetness he quickly pulls them down immediately stuffing them into his pocket.
“can i?” he asks one more time to confirm.
“mhm.” is all you can afford to moan.
“i need words princess.”
“fuck. yes gavi.” you groan.
he starts slowly kissing your thighs up to your aching core. his fingers digging into your thighs to spread them apart more to give him full access. you audibly moan as his tongue makes contact with your folds. your hands digging into his hair pulling on it the more he licks. his tongue moving from your folds to your hole causing you to lose balance at the pleasure. but luckily he’s there to keep your balance. you can’t help yourself from grinding into his face his nose beginning to come in contact with your core.
he continues licking you for a little before bringing his finger to your core teasing you with it. he drags it up and down your thigh and above your core just to tease you.
“do you want my fingers?” he asks with a sly smirk.
“yes. fuck.” you lean your head backwards.
he slides his finger through your folds lubricating it with your wetness before bringing it to your hole slowly inserting it. he groans at sight of you clenching around his finger. he pumps his finger in and out before adding his tongue again. the two of them providing a mind blowing experience for you. he manages to hit the spot with his finger curling his finger to reach an unexplainable amount of pleasure.
“c’mon baby. let all that stress out.” he moans as he puts in a second finger. it’s almost embarrassing the way you melt into his touch.
you don’t realize that gavi finds this intimate moment just as pleasurable as you do. the way your leg wraps around his shoulder, the way your fingers grip his hair, and your high pitched moans all sent shockwaves down his body. he wasn’t going to admit but all his previous sexual experiences consisted of jerking himself off to some random chick on the internet. this didn’t even compare to the real thing. having you tremble under his touch was intoxicating.
he starts feeling you shake under him realizing you’re close to achieving your high. all you need is one final push. he adds a third finger and sucks at your folds like a mad man. the knot that had formed in your stomach breaking loose as you cum all over his face. your hand holding his tightly as you reach your orgasm. he licks you slowly as you come down from your high. eventually finding the willpower to step away from you.
you bring him towards you kissing him. his lips tender and full of your juices you can practically taste yourself. his hand wrapping around the back of your head to bring you closer to him to deepen the kiss. the two of you briefly forgetting that tomorrow you’ll be back at each others throat. his brown eyes bore into yours and somehow you think you’ve found a comfort zone where you can relieve your stress.
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ivys-garden · 2 months
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Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly
First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it
That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.
On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.
It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening
Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)
If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)
I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur
(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)
Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.
(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)
Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear
DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC
"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-
Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before
Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.
He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.
He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.
If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.
Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym
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What is Simon 'Ghost' Riley actually like in a relationship (according to me)
A/N: I know this isn't anything like the things I usually write fics about but if I don't get this out of my system, I will spontaneously combust into flames from thought overload. There is a lot of great fics about him out there, 100%, but there is a steamy pile of garbage as well which makes Simon "an abusive asshole" to quote a TikTok I recently saw - and I couldn't agree more. So, here is my soft take on this tough guy and I hope you can enjoy reading this despite it being pretty far away from everything else on this blog.
Warnings: mentions of torture, violence, weapons, PTSD, profanity, explicit sexual themes but also so much fluff and softness
A/N pt. 2: I base this on Ghost's backstory according to the comic books as well as the video games but this is just my take so if you imagined him differently, that is totally valid!
* * *
Firstly and most importantly, Simon is a very different in his private life compared to his work; meaning he is good at separating the violent side of his work life from the life he has with you.
He must be the softest, the most gentle person there is when he is with you. I think he is very shy in the beginning as well as in early relationship given how his father treated him growing up. It is not that Simon wouldn't trust you, it's more that he would not trust himself. After all, after the Manuel Roba operation, he was tortured for months and came out with severe anger issues.
However, he was able to resolve this when he re-joined the military and engaged therapy but the scars remained: both mental as well as physical.
The reason why Ghost never takes off his mask is because of the scars Vernon and the lot left on his face (and the rest of his body). They are healed now but whenever he sees them in the mirror, he is reminded of everything he has been through, especially the loss of his family.
After Simon had told you why he keeps his mask on even in private life, at least the bottom part, you would not mind it as much but you would also reassure him that the way you feel about him could never be changed by some scars.
Needless to say, Simon would be very, very protective of you. He has lost everyone he has ever loved and cared about and he would never allow the same happen with you. It must be said though that Simon is not possessive. He above all knows the importance of freedom, especially when it comes to making choices about yourself and your comfort.
Still, Simon would face some control issues when you'd go out on your own. At work, he is used to being in charge of everybody, making sure everyone is safe and manning their positions. But with you, he needs to remind himself you are not going to war but just out with your friends, out grocery shopping, out to the library or somewhere. The thought of losing you drives him insane. He could never forgive himself if it happened when he could be by your side instead.
It goes without saying though that Simon prefers the comfort of his home to just about any other place. Clubs give him anxiety and the loud music triggers his PTSD, bars and restaurants are okay here and there but there is no place like home.
He does enjoy hiking and walking with you though.
Simon is romantic by heart so picnics in the nature would be his go-to dates. A bottle of wine, cheese and olives, a blanket in a spot with a view... You'd trace his features gently with the tip of your finger; the curve of his nose, his lips where he'd take your hand in his and kissed it softly as you would lay together in a secluded spot somewhere.
Bonus: when you decide to go home, Simon would never let you help carry any of the things he'd brought. Maybe the blanket but everything else, he'd pile up in his massive arms and carry them all the way home while barely seeing over the heap.
When it comes to sex, Simon would be just as reserved as with taking off his mask in the beginning. He would need much assurance from you that you really wanted to be with him intimately before trying anything.
Contrary to popular belief, Simon would never do anything that could even remotely hurt you when you had sex (or otherwise). On the one hand, he is well aware of his size and strength, and on the other, it is his childhood trauma that keeps him from trying anything that could potentially hurt you (even choking, spanking, etc. is not something he is comfortable with) even if you'd ask him to experiment.
Simon has seen, felt and inflicted too much violence in his life to have it included in his love life as well. All he wants to do is make you feel safe and loved especially when you have sex because this is one of the ways he expresses his love to you.
His sex drive is not that high but when you do have sex, he likes to make it special and intimate. Simon is very serious about it and wants you to enjoy yourself more than anything. To be honest, just seeing you climax causes him do the same.
He enjoys going down on your very much; the intimacy, the softness of your moans, his arms locked around your thighs when his fingers are not intertwined with yours.
Simon's favourite part though is the aftercare. He loves cuddling with you. Physical touch is yet another of his love languages although he was very reserved in the beginning of the relationship.
He is the big spoon the majority of time but sometimes (his favourite) Simon lays his head on your chest, wraps his arms around your waist and lets you play with his hair. He can fall asleep almost instantly.
It cannot be stressed enough that Simon never ever EVER raises his voice at you. Even when you are having an argument (which is not often), he never yells much less gets violent in any way.
He is a great listener and despite not saying much a lot of the time, Simon communicates well although he struggles very much to word his feelings.
After an argument or just for no particular occasion at all, Simon gets you flowers (a lot) - and different kinds every time. Another way for Simon to apologize is to cook for you. He is not very good at it but it is the effort that counts.
When he is away on a mission, Simon calls you a lot just to hear your voice, especially when he is too stressed to fall asleep. Your voice calms him down and help him get some rest but also reassures him you are alright whilst he is not there to keep you safe.
Simon likes to listen about your day, your feelings and your ideas. It keeps his mind far away from dark places. But every now and again, he would trust you with a fragment of his memories when his thoughts are just too loud. You know how precious and how rare it is that Simon opens up to you.
You don't say anything when he talks about his memories and his family but you always hold his hand, brushing your thumb across his calloused knuckles or drawing gentle shapes against his broad back.
You pepper his skin with soft kisses when his voice quietens and lead his head to rest against your chest as you pet his hair.
He likes to listen to you sing too, even if your voice is not the greatest. Even just humming a random melody and feeling your chest vibrate softly beneath his cheek will ease his heart.
Random bonus: Simon drinks English breakfast, no cream and one cube of sugar and has an occasional cigarette with it (Marlboro).
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zyonsay · 4 months
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hellooo, can i requ some headcannons of max verstappen having a bf that is rly pretty (i'm talking rbr seb vettel or nico rosberg 2000s pretty)
Pretty Boy MV1
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: One scenario of Max talking about his boyfriend in an interview and then three headcanons with scenarios
Reader: Male
Warnings: Max Emilian Verstappen
Now playing: 'Me Gustas Tu' by Manu Chao
AN: Hey anon! I combined your request with another one, which asked for a scenario of Max talking about reader in an Interview. Hope that's alright! ALSO Seb/Nico in their teenage dirtbag era was SOMETHING. (something great, im foaming at the mouth)
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“So, Max, you’ve been very active online recently. Especially your partner has made many appearances in your posts. What are you two up to?”, the Interviewer glanced at his silver watch before looking back up into Max’s blue eyes. He had anticipated this question for the whole weekend. The press liked to stick their noses into his private life, especially because he was not in a straight relationship. All eyes were on him, as per usual. “My gorgeous boyfriend?”, a sly grin tugged at his lips. “We’ve been spending loads of quality time together. Over the break we planned a little trip. I love him with all my heart and am excited to spend time with that amazing person”, his mouth pulled into a slight smile before the Interviewer crossed another question from his mental list.
Yes, Max likes to keep part of his private life to himself, but he can’t resist posting candid pictures of you all the time. Maybe he’ll even create a separate account besides his main one just for pictures of you and you guys’ daily life. Your phone buzzed and you quickly held it up to your face while laying on your bed. It was a notification from Instagram, Max had posted something. The phone unlocked and led you to the new post your dearest made. It was from this morning when the two of you went out on a hike and spotted a few cute deer. The picture showed your back while you were crouching and watching the animals. With a giggle you turned to Max, who was laying behind you. "That's a cute pic!"
Even though he appreciates your looks, he makes sure you know that you are the first reason why he’s in love with you. Your beautiful face and soft hair is the cherry on top! With gentle hands he held your face, while leaving kisses on your nose. His sweet upside-down smile adorned his face while he whispered, “My beautiful schatje.” Max gently pushed a strand of your hair behind you ear before leaning in for another peck.
That said, he’ll still compliment you at any given chance. Something he likes to do is leave little post it notes on the fridge when he has to leave early. ‘Good morning beautiful! I saw that you used the last bag of your favorite tea, go check in the cabinet above the dishwasher!’, Max had left a little yellow note on the door of your fridge, he even scribbled a wonky heart on it. You opened the cabinet only to find way too many packs of your favorite tea stacked up. God, how you loved that idiot.
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lovetei · 10 months
Note
also while im still here hehehe
could you do the brothers comforting an mc that had a breakdown in the groupchat? it doesnt have to be separate! since i imagine they come to mc's room one by one to comfort them on their own way yk... ???? like theyre helping each other out to help mc... if that makes sense qwq
Ooh... I don't really know if I correctly got your request but I'll try?
I fell asleep midway doing this so I just rushed it. Don't worry though I'll post another one for today
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Comforting a MC that broke down in the group chat and what are specific things they'll do to comfort you
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Warnings: Cussing, them being rich, Mentions of "I'll kill myself fr" attitude from MC, Mentions of drugs as a joke
Links: Masterlist
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Satan: To be honest, why does RAD even have an entrance exam?
Asmodeus: Like it's so easy to pass.
Mammon: FR, they just be wasting papers at this rate.
Leviathan: Seriously Mammon? You can't even pass a normal drug test 😒
Belphegor: Mammon is so optimistic to the point where even his drug test is positive Lol
MC: I will kill myself.
Leviathan: HAHAHAHHAHAHA
Leviathan: Oh shit
Beelzebub: 😀
MC: :)
Leviathan: MC that's wasn't for you 😭😭😭
Lucifer: And what caused that uncharacteristic melancholy in your countenance, dear?
MC: I have no time for your jargon, tall fuck 🖕🏻
MC: If no one found out what I want for comfort the next 24 hours, you all are gonna see a dead sheep by the next day.
MC: Bye.
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LUCIFER
Fuck life and fuck everybody
He will turn the Devildom upside down just for you
He'll show up at your doorstep with multiple jewelers with catalogs
And they're showing you accessories that are never bellow six digits
But you just waved it off?!
MAMMON
He would show up at your doorstep with keys in his hand
He'll then make you look at your bedroom window and there, outside are multiple sprouts car lined up
He'll press one of the key buttons and suddenly the Ferrari will light
Then the BMW, then the porch, then the Lamborghini
And you don't even want these?! He made sure they're all human brands!
LEVIATHAN
His offering is probably one of his exclusive islands
It's true
He's showing up outside your door with papers and pictures
Showcasing some of his private islands that he will gladly gave you
SATAN
They might be giving you jewelries and cars
But he's giving you properties
Condominiums and even some room from his apartment business
Please those earns a lot just don't do anything to yourself
ASMODEUS
Typical Asmo will pull out every Profesional designer
Gucci? No problem
Saint Laurent? Right here
Prada? At your service
Don't do anything to yourself babes, you can even ruin all these expensive clothes if you want, it's not a bother.
BEELZEBUB
There's a whole catering group for you
Right outside your room
Profesional chefs and extremely expensive foods right out of your door
Waiting for you to go out and eat it
Please, MC. He'll even join you
BELPHEGOR
Probably one of the most sane
He'll book you a ticket to a rage room
Except there you can go fully berserk like using all the cancer causing spells you know
Or he'll just knock you out
Whatever works the best.
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keegansgf · 3 months
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“modern! mizu hcs”
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Okay finally becoming a BES writer after I convinced myself Mizu would sooooooo be a bassist. This is a combo of modern Mizu relationship hcs and band+uni hcs :3 warning, I hardly edited this because I'm tired. Also I WILL be taking Mizu requests
pairing: mizu x fem! reader
tags: domestic bliss…?, modern! au, bassist mizu, band! au, other characters mentioned 🗣️
Mizu is oddly good at home decorating? It’s not a hobby or interest of hers, in fact, she thinks her room is quite plain, but the cohesive colors and pretty decent-looking fake plants say otherwise. (She would love to buy real plants, but she frequently gets swept up with time to care for them properly.)
A lot of your apartment is decorated by her, but in the sense that you asked her if an item would work with house and she either liked or disliked it. She wouldn’t have really cared about shopping for home decor if not for you.
Mizu gets so upset when it’s hot out since she can’t go a day without wearing layers. The apartment (or her room at least) is cold 24/7 whether you like it or not
She tries to go grocery shopping with you as often as possible despite her lack of cooking abilities. Her memory is perfect, so you rarely ever need to make a grocery list! Plus, she likes doing simple things with you. Her childhood was chaotic, so the normalcy of shopping with someone she loves puts her at peace.
She survives off of snacks; it’s a terrible habit of hers, and she knows. It gets worse when either you’re not at home to cook, or she’s out somewhere else. Normally, she walks into the kitchen when she smells food or when you call for her, but she’ll completely forget to eat a real meal otherwise.
Though Mizu rarely (if not ever) has guests over, she makes sure your space and things are respected. If you’re out and your room door is open, she’ll close it. Any special glassware that you bought for personal use, like mugs? Nobody is allowed to touch them.
She’s gotten mad at Taigen for messing with your stuff before.
She isn’t much of a clean freak, but she’d prefer to have things kept orderly as often as possible. She enjoys splitting the chores with you, especially seasonal cleaning.
She’s extremely mindful of personal space. Even if she thinks you look adorable napping on the couch, the most she’ll do is kiss your face and fix your blanket. She’d love to join, really, but she’s afraid of waking you or making you uncomfortable. The last thing she wants to do is disrespect you.
She’s extremely touch-starved but doesn’t know how to make physical contact with you at first. She opened up when you first got together and started asking her for hugs, etc. Now, she loves the smallest of purposeful, or accidental touches, whether it’s brushing up against her, or her hand resting at your hip or waist while you’re out together.
Though you have separate rooms, you’ll sleep together on most nights (usually in your room– she finds your bed more comfortable, plus your room smells like you!)
The only time she heavily insists on staying in your rooms is if one of you gets sick, no exceptions. She hardly ever falls ill, but she’d rather not risk it. That doesn’t stop her from taking care of you, even if the only hot meal she can prepare is upgraded instant noodles or an easy, fool proof soup.
She has a horrible habit of making confining rules for herself, even if she’s on track with certain goals. You have to put hard work into easing her up to let her realize she has a lot more freedom than she thinks she has.
She doesn’t mind dates that you go out for, but she loves cute little dates at home. She doesn’t dislike showing you off, she just appreciates the private intimacy between you two. Even if she isn’t a great cook, she’s happy to help you measure or chop things while you talk.
Speaking of, acts of service is a huge love language of hers. If she can’t do something well, she’ll compensate for with something else that she’s better at to make your life easier.
"Band + Uni Hcs"
Mizu has a habit of not making herself visible on stage. It’s not completely intentional, but her usual spot on stage has harsher lights and this carries over to every single venue. The constant squinting was giving her headaches.
Following up with that, she’s so light-sensitive. It takes a good minute or two for her to adjust from a dark room to bright lights. At some point, she considered getting darker-tinted glasses but keeps putting it on the back burner.
She doesn’t dislike showing you off on stage, but she’d rather not be all the talk at school when it comes to your relationship. This doesn’t mean she lets your relationship go unnoticed though– she makes it very clear she’s taken and doesn’t participate in flirty behavior with any of the audience
Taigen however
The only reason she’s the band's bassist is because nobody else knows how to play. Taigen could play in theory, but he didn’t want to, plus, he thought bass was too easy.
He says that and can’t write a bassline like Mizu. He does write insane guitar solos though, and he can definitely make up something on the spot under pressure. That's actually how a couple of his solos were made.
Ringo is so good at budgeting that it’s genuinely impressive, but he’s not thrilled at how much of that budget cuts out good quality food to keep up with his uni payments. Luckily, Akemi made sure to let him know he was free to experiment with cooking at hers anytime! He's the only one with a spare key to her house. (more on that later)
Akemi knows how to play so many instruments, but none of which are typical band instruments. Her house has a pretty extensive collection of instruments, just no drums or electric string instruments aside from an electric harp. Her father didn’t really monitor her hobbies in her own house, so she played around with whatever piqued her interest first. She had been playing piano and koto since she was young, so she’s automatically the keyboardist (and vocalist,) but she pulls out an odd instrument here and there during a show for fun.
Taigen does have a podcast. The equipment was bought by Akemi with the hopes that he’d have a new hobby, but… sigh.
Ringo is an insanely good drummer, but he couldn't care less about having a music career. He agreed to join because all his friends were in a band– plus, they needed a drummer. Turns out, he’s a natural!
Mizu knows how to play drums too, and she’s great at it, but Ringo unintentionally disses her sometimes on her technique. He’s definitely said something like “Oh, wouldn’t it be easier to…?” She doesn't care much since she knows he means well. That does NOT stop her from continuing to catch accidental strays from him
Taigen and Akemi sort of live together? Akemi’s dad is a little sour about him not returning her home on time. That got his house key privileges revoked for three months. He’s welcome to stay by Akemi’s word, but she doesn’t keep a spare key for him, so he’ll have to be let in by her. Occasionally, he'll ask Ringo to let him in if he happens to be over to cook or practice at a different location, but if Akemis dad catches them, they're both getting an earful. That hasn't happened yet, luckily
Akemi has a couple of songs with a crazy keyboard solo that she has never in her life messed up. She worked through blood sweat and tears to perfect every solo she's written and has her muscle memory down.
Taigen is actually a really good guitarist, but he does make a fair amount of mistakes that he gets dogged on for– most mistakes being dropping his pick. He doesn’t really mess up chords, but a lot of their fans are waiting for that day to come (it'll never happen honestly)
Mizu could and does definitely show off on stage sometimes, but she won’t be pushed into doing a solo for the life of her.
Nobody can touch Mizus instruments except for you and Ringo (he’s a great bass and guitar tech somehow– he just has a lot of specific things he can pick up.)
Mizu, Taigen, and Akemi do separate gigs. Mizu does a little bit of everything– a lot of the bands she plays for are usually gothic rock or metal.
Ringo makes sure Mizu’s basslines can be heard with the drums while Taigen has a running joke of playing too loudly over her basslines during practice. Mizu isn't thrilled, to say the least.
Akemi gets extremely frustrated whenever she has mic problems. Honestly, she wouldn't mind a keyboard problem, but a mic problem is too much
Mizu’s bass wasn’t decorated until you came around– She wants something that reminds her of you on her instrument, so she had you make stickers of your lipstick print to slap on the body of her bass.
By no means are they a large band– they definitely are a local uni band that probably would get popular eventually, but nobody really cared enough about their popularity enough outside of their other hobbies
Speaking of, both Taigen and Mizu do Kendo
Akemi is a top-tier lyricist– she puts her interest in poetry to work ^_^
Taigen has an insanely expensive pedalboard along with a collection of pedals (From Akemis money)
Every day, Akemi considers using a keytar, but the music shops nearby don’t carry good quality keytars and she gets so upset when they aren’t comfortable enough to play.
Taigen has a set practicing schedule on his own, but he often gets held up with classwork. He also has a set sleep schedule but sometimes takes time out of rest to catch up with practice.
Eji tries to come to their shows, but he isn’t much of a fan of the noise level when it comes to live music. He doesn’t understand Mizu’s more alternative gigs, but he’s happy she’s able to get around. He used to lecture Mizu for not wearing earplugs to her shows when she first started performing.
Taigen and Akemi have their own shoegaze duet act together outside of the band– they're getting quite popular from that!
Mizu has written a few songs herself for fun after Akemi texted the group chat about a delay on lyrics due to writers block. She actually finished up recording those songs herself after you found her notes, and urged her to actually make and post those as songs.
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