#they sometimes come off as aggressive or dismissive

[sl33pyst4r5]

Yeah, they deserve that. No thorns, only roses.

(I started drawing this right after I saw those tags, so thanks for the idea @ashyronfire)

[7ndipity]

Fights with them

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: what they would be like during fights/arguments

Warnings: a lot of angst, not proofread

A/N: after days of struggling to work(hello executive disfunction) I got this request, and my brain decided to jump back into gear and I wrote this in like an hour, as well as half of another request!? 🤷idk, I'm not gonna question it, I'm just glad I'm writing again.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Seokjin: as much as he bickers with the members, I think he has a rather avoidant personality when it comes to real conflict. He's said he allergic to seriousness, which can definitely become an issue if not careful, as it can one off as indifferent or dismissive. I think he usually ends up snapping and saying something short but pointed, and then walks away before things can escalate further. Always comes back all apologetic, and tries to work through things more calmly.

Yoongi: He's very upfront and sometimes blunt, and he's said before that he hates getting angry/fighting, so I think most issues would be resolved before they can turn into a full blown fight. But I also think he might have a tendency to ignore/avoid smaller issues until they build up. In the moment, he's not that loud, but he's very sharp with his words. Immediately regrets saying anything that might have hurt you afterwards. Definitely needs some time to himself to think and get his emotions under control, but would want to apologize and resolve everything as quickly as possible.

Hobi: He's almost to open too let a fight brew properly. He'll see it coming be like, "wait, let's step back and sort this out" before it gets out of hand. When they do happen though, he's loud only for a moment, and then the rest of the time, he's unnervingly quiet. As I said in his dating HCs, fights almost always culminate in tears because he can't stand y'all being upset with each other. Like, it causes him physical pain. Makes up the fastest out of all the members.

Namjoon: tbh, I think I would fight with him the most out of the members. He's soo stubborn and passive aggressive. Tries to dismiss the issue to de-escalate the situation, but that almost always backfires. Gets loud and slams things/doors, then gets mad at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Definitely needs time to cool off before coming back to talk to you; could be an hour, could be three days, depends on the situation. But he does always come back to talk it out with you.

Jimin: I know several of the big fight stories involve him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's overly combative, I just think that when he feels strongly about something, he won't back down, which can be a good thing, until it isn't. If it's a smaller argument, he'll just say something snappish and then move on like nothing happened, but in bigger fights, he can rival Joon on volumeand intensity. He can also hold a grudge like you wouldn't believe, so communication is a super important part of resolving the issue so nothing brews into bitterness.

Taehyung: He has a tendency to get very wrapped up in the moment and take things personally, so even small fights can snowball into something bigger if you're not careful. Yells and tries to put up a tough exterior, but starts to crack pretty quick and will want to leave before his other emotions show too much. Another crier(same). Ultimately, can't stand being away from you for too long, the type that will climb in bed and hold you, but not speak because the wounds are still fresh. Will probably talk it out with you the next morning.

Jungkook: He's such a emotional and overly reactive person, so I see fights being a common occurrence with him tbh. With smaller fights, he stays pretty calm, but when things escalate, he's all over the place. Definitely an angry crier. For some reason, I don't see him really yelling during fights? He's more like Hobi in that, if he does, it only happens in bursts and the rest of the time, his tone is just slightly raised(like when he scolds ppl during lives). Does not like to walk away and wants to sort things out then and there, even though that's probably not the best idea, but he doesn't want to let the tension drag on longer than it has to.

[prying-pandora666]

What Your Ship Says About You

It’s so interesting how certain ship fandoms behave relative to their characters.

Zutara fans are deeply passionate and ready to fight at any moment. They don’t care what canon (authority) says, they’ll fight them too. They also have very creative souls and explore possibilities that others wouldn’t have even considered. However they can be hotheaded and their passion can turn to aggression. Just like Zuko and Katara.

Kataang fans are more peaceful usually, content to bask in the zen of being canon. But if you drag them into a fight, they’ll bring the fury like they’re in the Avatar State! They strive to find coherency for the canon couple and accept what they cannot change rather than fight a fruitless battle. Just like Aang and Katara.

Ty Zula fans are fierce and sometimes they say things that don’t make sense to others because it’s based on “vibes” (auras). But if you insult them, they’ll come at you with the full force of their collective might. Just like Ty Lee and Azula.

Toko/Zutoph fans don’t care about the rules and are happy to enjoy their ship without feeling the need to defend it as canon. They’ll hit you over the head with their love for the ship in their memes or stealthily lure you in with fanart. Under their rash surface though, there’s some heartbreaking and vulnerable metas. Just like Toph and Zuko.

Zukka fans are just fun. Although sometimes there’s the occasion where they slip into taking themselves too seriously, and need to remember they have nothing to prove. They’re fine the way they are even if it’s not canon. Just like Zuko and Sokka.

Sukka fans are lovely and I haven’t ever seen them start fights with anyone, and yet Bryke continues to do them dirty and neglect them, even going so far as to imply this ship has broken up. Just like Suki and Sokka.

Maiko fans handle criticisms with smug dismissal and apathy a lot of the time, but set them off and you’ll see another side. It has ardent defenders but most of it seems like a defensive reaction against much more stable ships. Just like Mai and Zuko.

Taang fans are myths of epic proportion. Can’t tell if they never existed or if they simply vanished. Just like Toph and Aang.

Tokka fans are fun and most people will get along with them. But if you’re one of the few to get on their nerves or find them annoying? You’re gonna have a bad time. Just like Toph and Sokka.

Sokkla fans are tactical. They don’t usually get in fights for the ship, they just slowly lower your defenses with beautiful fan art. Sneaking in past your walls, once they’re in they’ll bring the receipts with their metas and brainwash you to their side. Just like Sokka and Azula.

Ty Suki fans are perfect and correct and deserve a giant gay island all to themselves and their girlfriends. Just like Ty Lee and Suki.

[kairiscorner]

i just want what's best for you. — miles 1610 x reader

summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,045 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello lovely anon !! omg this was really fun to do ngl, I WILL BE SO CRUSHED IF THIS GETS FLOPPED RGHHHHH i will cry bUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, AND SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND PROBABLY OOC RIO, I'M SORRY, I TRIED...........

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

meeting your partners' parents is never easy; it can be fun, if their parents take a liking to you and are amicable--maybe if they see you as family already for them, then you've hit the jackpot. though, in your case, you couldn't be any worse off than that. you did a few things that miles' parents didn't approve of, a few things that didn't settle right with them or made them slightly cautious about you. be it due to how you look, your lifestyle, your manner of speech and nonchalance around them, how you try a little too hard or not enough to get on their good sides--whatever it was, it didn't make them entirely fond of nor trust you, especially with the fact that you were dating their son and they have made it very clear to him: "no dating until you're 25".

they eventually gave in to miles' persuasion that he was 'old enough' to be dating, to be asking you out and going out with you, and being able to spend time with you without having to hide from his parents where he's been and what he's been doing. his father had to vouch for him, after he made miles swear he and you wouldn't be doing anything stupid nor hide anything from them, and though he trusts miles... he has little faith in you, seeing as how you two hardly speak and only exchange nods, glances, and greetings whenever you're around at miles' place. jeff isn't much of a problem for you, though, he's since accepted that his son loves you and that he wants to be with you--but miles' mom, rio, still hasn't come around to that fact.

in complete honesty... every time rio looks at you, you feel like she's glaring at you, staring you down, sometimes outright judging you in her head. miles swears she doesn't mean anything bad with how she looks at you nor how she speaks, even though she may sound dismissive around you. you try to believe miles, even though it does sometimes come off that rio wants nothing between you and her son. but that whole blind fantasy came crashing down around you during dinner one night when rio confronted miles passive-aggressively and a bit subtly on why his grades seemed to be going down and why some nights, he's out of his room when she comes in.

you were going to speak to miles in the kitchen, ask him if he'd like to watch a movie tonight in his room since you two hardly have time for each other these days, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard rio and miles' voices in the kitchen, sounding as if they were arguing over something. you crept close to the doorway, knowing that eavesdropping on their private conversation was wrong, but you wouldn't have stayed if you just didn't hear rio utter your name, followed by: "i don't even know why you picked them, but mijo, i... i have no reason to believe they're not the reason why you're so distracted these days. don't you think that, maybe... they're a bad influence on you?"

a cold stinging feeling shot up your body and spine as you heard rio talk about you like that, with your eyes widening as you realized what she just proposed to miles: she thinks you're a bad influence on her son. miles defended you, however, claiming that he hasn't even been able to see you for days at a time, that you're busy with personal stuff and school--that you aren't a bad influence on him, none of this is your fault. rio tried to hear miles out, but none of it was computing to her; in her eyes, her son was a good boy who couldn't do anything to disappoint her, maybe do a few wrongs here and there, but he'd never let something like a bad performance at school progress, and he would especially quit sneaking out at night after the first few times, right?

"mom, i'm telling you, they're not involved with anything bad, i'm not involved in anything bad! i just... look, i'm..." miles stuttered as he tried to explain to his mother all these anomalous occurrences and his behavior recently, and due to this hesitation, rio's resolve to pin the blame on you had only gotten worse. "mijo, look at me. please, just... tell your mom the truth. i don't want you to get hurt, to jeopardize yourself and your well-being all for some... person you like. what is it you're doing that's distracting you? is it them? it's gotta be them, otherwise you wouldn't–miles! aún no he terminado de hablar, jovencito, vuelve aquí!" rio called after her son as miles had enough and ran off out of the kitchen, feeling frustrated that his own mother couldn't even believe him that neither of you were up to anything bad. if he lied again, she'd be pissed; and if he told her the truth, she'd be even more pissed, it was a lose-lose scenario for him that had no good solution. at least... not one he'd like.

you crept up the stairs and knocked on miles' door, calling out to him in a soft voice. miles opened the door a crack, and once he verified it was indeed you, he opened the door wider and faced you properly. before you could get a word out, he immediately wrapped you in a big hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "man, babe, i'm... oh, am i glad to see you..." he whispered as you hugged him back, a little saddened at what you were about to tell him, about to do to him.

miles pulled away eventually and welcomed you into his room, closing the door behind you two as you he told you could sit down by his bed, as usual. you hesitantly sat down next to him, tensing up a little as you took your seat on his plush bed. he looked over at you with concern tinting his eyes; he reached out for you as you looked down to the floor, away from him. "hey, babe... what's wrong? did i do something, did something... happen?" he asked you as he brushed away the stray hairs on your forehead as you looked at him with sadness filling your frame. you breathed a sigh of reluctance as you fidgeted with your fingers, feeling that if you did this, you'd be doing him and his parents a favor--but on the other hand, you'd be crushing him to bits.

you took in a deep breath and finally exhaled after holding it in for a bit as you gazed back at him, with miles looking at you so anxiously and murmuring if you were alright, if he could do anything to help, but... this was all that could be done now. "miles... you can't be dating me anymore. i'm sorry, it's... my fault." you said in a quieted voice, though the way you said it sounded very vague, miles still felt incredibly crushed and confused by what you meant that 'it was your fault'.

a look of hurt dashed his face as he brought his hand upon yours and reassured you that, no, whatever you meant, it couldn't have been your fault. he tried to comfort you and help you realize that whatever was going on between you two, he'd make up for it. "is it... is it because we aren't able to, y'know, to... be together all the time? is that it...?" he asked you nervously as you shook your head, still looking away from him. miles heaved a little as he tried to calm himself down, rationalize first what could've been the reason why you wanted to suddenly break up with him after he just defended you in front of his mother without you knowing... or... or did you?

how could you explain to miles that a breakup isn't something you wanted, but felt was best for... well, not for you two, but for his parents to quit getting on his case? you didn't hate his parents, not one bit, you understood their concerns if you were in their shoes–but you didn't know what else to do, you couldn't stand seeing miles get chewed out by his own mother for your sake. you sighed as you tried to hold back your tears, as your throat flared up as you kept your sob in and shook your head. "it has nothing to do with you, miles. like i said, it's... it's my fault. i'm sorry, look, i don't... i don't think i'm good enough for you." you tried telling him without breaking down right then and there as miles kept getting his heart pierced in every which way with every word you uttered.

miles tried to understand, but most of all, he kept rambling to you how you both could make it work, he'll be there–it isn't... whatever happened between you two, it isn't your fault. miles teared up a little as he kept holding on to your hand, but his tears finally fell when you let go of his hand and got up to leave. "wait, love–!" he called out for you as you opened the door and, surprise-surprise, his mother was there by the door, listening in on you two with a sad expression.

you yelped when you saw her, with her yelping as well–miles yelped at the both of you yelping, and rio had to tell you both to calm down... no one need to break up with anybody. "i came to say that... that i'm sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry i've been so cold to you." she said as she looked at you with guilt and remorse in her eyes and tone. she sighed as she leaned against the doorway and looked away from the two of you.

"i don't hate you, i'm just... scared, is all. i'm worried you won't love my boy as much as you say you can, because... i can't control either of you, i can't know what you both do at all times, especially you, miles." she said as she pointed at miles, with miles looking at her with a confused gaze. rio sighed again as she walked over to you and looked up at your eyes, placing her hand on your chin to get you to look at her square in the face.

"i'm sorry if i made it seem like... it was your fault my son hasn't been honest with me–" she said as she shot miles an angry look, "–but you have no fault in this. i'm sorry, just, mother instincts got out of hand." she apologized as you smiled and nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales..." you said as she smiled. "you know, i kinda like you a little better now. 'mrs. morales', finally..." she said with a smile as you chuckled, with rio telling miles he can still be with you and go out with you if he promises never to sneak out anymore and to get those grades back up.

miles nodded as he told his mom he has to talk to you, alone. "okay, but no locked doors–" "yeah, yeah, got it mom!" miles called out from behind the door as he closed it on her. you rubbed the back of your neck as miles looked down at the ground, the both of you feeling really awkward but pretty relieved at the same time with how that 'breakup' between you two was very short lived.

miles cleared his throat as he began to speak, but you rushed up and hugged him, murmuring how glad you are that you didn't have to leave him. miles reciprocated your hug and whispered back to you he'd never let anybody–not even his own parents–get in the way of him loving you dearly. he was just glad his mom, though very slowly–started to realize you weren't a distraction to him, but someone he cared about.

he understands all she wants is the best for him, but... maybe now was the time he decided what was best for him on his own, and that'd be with you by his side, letting him love you wholeheartedly.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

[mazzystar24]

Being a psychology nerd and engaging in fandom actually makes my eye twitch sometimes because terms are constantly being used wrong to diss people or characters and also people will act like they know every experience a mentally ill person can have just based off a small sample of what they’ve seen and they’ll use that to disregard storylines or people’s opinions or spec

So some things guys that may be an unintentional call out or reassurance for your spec:

Hallucinations CAN be auditory and visual simultaneously (multi modal it can even be tactile, somatic olfactory or gustatory) and there is actually a very high prevalence of this in a lot of disorders and are actually thought to occur more frequently than unimodal hallucinations, and yes it can be in the form of full blown conversations with people that aren’t there and they can be extremely elaborate and complex especially if paired with delusions- so yes the possibility that Kim is a hallucination and we are just seeing it from Eddie’s pov is valid spec so stop being dismissive to people

Also for my brain tumour truthers- a brain tumour is a little complicated when it comes to hallucinations cos it really depends where the tumour is and what regions are effected because for example an occipital lobe tumour is more likely to just cause visual hallucinations- but multimodal hallucinations due to a brain tumour is also possible, a brain tumour also comes with other symptoms too but a lot can be consistent with the spec like for example impulsivity or disinhibition, delusions, aggression (if the buddie divorce is true that works), anxiety, depression, etc.

Trauma bonding is something that occurs in ABUSIVE situations where you start to feel sympathy and love for your abuser it’s not when people bond over trauma - so no what buck and Eddie or buck and Chris have is very much not a trauma bond

Gaslighting isn’t just lying to someone it’s intentionally manipulating them to the extent that they doubt their own sanity (the term coming from a play turned movie where a husband drives his wife crazy by like screwing with the gas lights in their house when she’s alone to make her doubt her memory and her perception of reality) - so no Eddie is not GASLIGHTING buck when he lies to him 😭😭

Codependency is also just not what Eddie and buck have, they don’t base their entire lives on each other and they don’t like have an unhealthy dynamic or have an imbalanced relationship, now yes they both had times when they needed the other to be there for them or help them through stuff or aid their self worth but overall they more so just want to be around each other not that they NEED to and they work on themselves separately like going to therapy by themselves while also supporting eachother by helping out while they do that

[syrma-sensei]

Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.3: Mirrors.

pairing: soldier boy x fem!reader.

rating: explicit.

setting: in the early 80s.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: prostitution, angst, sexual innuendos, violence, cursing...

summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

“That’s not what I fucking signed up for!”

Legend flinches a bit as Soldier Boy flings the glass of liquor in his hand. Legend's face twitches as he sees it splinter into tiny pieces, which makes him often wonder if he’d end up with his head bashed into pieces if he carried on his career in this damned place. Despite everything, Legend has developed a tight resolve when it comes to dealing with Vought's supes, Soldier Boy in particular.

“You wanted the gal, and now you have her.” Legend answers crudely.

Soldier Boy seethes, “I don't recall being consulted about her fucking pimp tagging along!”

Legend sighs at this point, “Mr. Harold's her manager, and he emphasised his inclusion to be thoroughly considered. He's been her tutor for years. And you heard her yourself, she wanted him in.”

Soldier Boy smacks his lips in deep frustration. Great. Now, he'd have to deal with her manager being up on their asses in their little game of cat and mouse. What he wants is simple, he wants her in his bed after he's won her over. He doesn't want that fuck face to get in his way. Soldier Boy sighs, passing an aggressive hand over his face.

“When do we start the rehearsals?” Ben asks in a tight tone, he's still finding this hard to digest.

“Tomorrow morning, because you know, she's quite busy at night.”

Legend's insinuated smirk didn't go unnoticed by Ben. The little shit.

“Good.” Ben replies, and dismisses Legend, because he too has a busy night.

Ben exhales deeply through his nostrils before he scooches by the swarms of dancing and drunk people. He's donned in a casual outfit for tonight. Casual yet fancy; Ben never skimps on his looks whether it's for business or in his private life. He dresses both to impress (the gals) and depress (the pals). He's aware of his effect on both sides and likes to swagger with his looks; he has black jeans on his legs, black jean jacket wide open to show off his chest which is accentuated by a white shirt. His feet are comfortable in a pair of brown and sleek boots.

Finding his way to the bar, his piercing green eyes catch the visage of a pretty girl by the bar. Once his eyes land on her, she flashes him a grin which he partially ignores on his way to his destination.

He sits on a stool, resting one arm on the bar counter, ordering a drink, then he turns around to have a quick scan on the dance floor. Most of the people dancing are between late adolescence and early twenties. When he was their age he applied to Dr. Vought's Compound V trials to win his father's favour. He scoffs between him and himself.

A real man doesn't take a shortcut.

The words still titillate a bitter taste akin to ash under his tongue whenever he remembers what his father spewed in his face after Ben saw God under those fucking trials. It was perilous and shrouded with uncertainty, but he was willing to do it for his father, to make him proud. He became America's first superhero, the golden son of the states, but what good the golden son title could do him if he was a disappointing coward in his father's eyes.

He closes his eyes for a bit, he can't believe it still haunts him after all this time. His dad is dead. Hell, he's older than him right now, hitting his fucking sixties with ease his dad would've wished he had. The bastard died of cancer, or so he'd heard. It was a long time ago. He doesn't remember, of course, why would he bother? He didn't even attend his funeral. The old bastard didn't deserve the honour.

He gobbles down his drink in one go when it's served, relishing in the momentarily burning sensation. Then, he orders another.

Fuck, sometimes, he wishes he was normal like those youngsters, he thinks melancholically. Hell, he can't even get drunk to forget, to make mistakes, to feel alive again.

He comes to places like this because it's easier to blend in. He's rarely recognised among drunk and stoned people who are looking for some ass.

Ben's head whips to the side when he feels a gentle hand on his arm, caressing it tenderly. “You look sad…” He raises a brow at the girl, she's the same gal he saw when he first entered the club. “I can fix that…”

He lets her despite the fact he knows she can't fix shit.

After hours, Ben is lying naked in one of the club's rooms, beside him the girl who offered him help, the help that did him nothing at all. He knew from the outset this wouldn't work, but he gave it a shot because the girl looked somewhat akin to Rita Hayworth whom he had a crush on growing up.

He rubs his eyes with a groan as he sits up, deftly swinging his feet down on the floor. This is not good. Sex is never not good to him, especially if it's accompanied with some toots on fine breasts like this one had. God, she has two watermelons for a pair of tits. And boy did he fucking like tits. Big, medium, small, he likes all of them.

Ben glances at her, fuck, he didn't even ask for her name, but Rita-Hayworth-knock-off is a new mom. He can sense the milk hormone kicking in her system which she's trying to dial down with meds. Ben twitches his eyebrows; it explains why she's taken this road.

He shakes his head, looking at her, she seems in her early twenties, he can hazard a guess and say it's the same scenario. She met Romeo, got knocked up, Romeo left, big old daddy kicked her out. And now she has hers and her baby's mouths to feed.

Ben grunts as he reaches for his jean jacket on the floor, he grabs something out before he gets dressed in his clothes. He leaves her some money under the pillow.

Rita-Hayworth-knock-off wakes up after a while to find her payment under the pillow, and a piece of paper above it, with no trace of the handsome man. Her eyes widen when she flips it back and forth trying to comprehend what's that.

It's for you and your baby, not for the fucking pimp.

Rita smiles with tears in her eyes, hugging the check to her chest.

When his pursuit of pleasure has failed, Ben heads back home. And by home it means one of his private properties, a penthouse. He sighs as he slips the jacket off, tossing it on the armrest of the leatherd big sofa in the living room. He ambles towards the wet bar and pours himself a drink. He lets out an elongated sigh, it almost sounds longing and craving.

“Fuck…” He groans. You really did a number on him. His bodys is fucking raging with want and nothing besides having you will regale that burning desire to claim you. He guzzles up his drink.

He fucking met a broad twice and his body is acting up like a pussy. He's fucking Soldier Boy, the Soldier Boy. One fleeting girl can't bring him to heels like that. But again, the image of your sensual features, the rasp in your voice, the mystery in your eyes, they're all so fucking tempting him to coax you down layer by layer. He wants to see the girl behind this facade. Oh, he knows there's one behind that eloquent, sagacious mask. He wants to meet the one who's grinding on his vainglory's gears. He wants that woman, and he's intended to own her.

The world of Vought is a dreadful and dangerous place to be, but however the people in charge of making it dazzle with such glamour, they earn each penny they make.

You were fast to acclimate to the somewhat new atmosphere. Jack was proud of you, and you were happy you managed to do so.

You're always on time, with utter competence and professionalism; any lack of diligence is frowned upon. Your business is mostly tied to none other than Soldier Boy, the greatest hero ever lived.

Working with America's son is amusing to say the least.

In spite of his big headed self, he's actually good at taking orders and exerting them like a good soldier would. Through the days in the rehearsals, he's been unexpectedly nice to you, which makes you wonder what he really wants from you. You're not an idiot. Jack made sure of that. You know that Soldier Boy wants you; him practically eye-fucking you is a bit of a giveaway. However, he doesn't verbally express anything of the sort.

During the days at Vought, you've come to learn more and more about Soldier Boy, bits reporters would kiss your ass to divulge to them. But of course your professionalism and the NDA you signed prevent you from doing so.

You find Soldier Boy — or Ben as he emphasised to call him, is an interesting individual, as expected from a man of his rank and fame. But as any performer he's a complete hypocrite. Just like yourself. The first time in which he almost made you gasp was when he invited you to his headquarters in the tower so you could sniff some crunched crack with him. To kick back, as he put it. That shit is good, I'm telling ya. You discovered that America's golden son isn't as godly as his media pretence claims to be.

He's flawed, tremendously so. Just like you are. He has a short and firing temper that threatens to blow off at any second. And he isn't kind to those who don't make him happy. One time, he burst in the face of a poor assistant for not bringing his right order of coffee. Iced. He snarled at him.

And to add insult to injury, he's hard to please.

However, and oddly enough, he isn't as crass with the gentle sex. Especially with you. Maybe the fact he would fuck you at some time has something to do with that. Be that as it may, you enjoy the companionship of the supe, because there's a lot to him that intrigued you. Despite everything, his what is akin to giddiness that he shows when he's with you is growing on you.

Anywho, within the deepest layers of you, you envy him. He isn't on a leash like you. He comes and goes whenever and wherever he likes. He takes shit from nobody, and does whatever he wants. You wish you had anything close to what he had. The power, the money, the connections. You want to be like him, and not some bitch tied to her owner for life.

Today's the day you and Soldier Boy officially record the cover song after days of arduous rehearsals with the latter. Again, he's hard to please; you can't help but to think whether he made you and the rest of the crew reiterate when he didn't like that note, or when he disliked the harmony of the rhythm, or he was doing that on purpose just so he can spend more time with you.

You internally sigh, you shouldn't read much into the lines, but considering, you relish in the attention and you give him yours, the thing he wants the most as of yet. You wonder when he's going to get bored of you. Up close, Soldier Boy is the kind of a man who falls fast into ennui. It's only a matter of time before he tosses you aside and moves on to his next stimuli.

You're playing with fire, and you know that. Much like he is seeking the pleasurable sting, so are you.

Despite Soldier Boy's faults, he knows how to get the job done, whether it's on field or up on the stage, Legend muses. The latter can't but acknowledge that Soldier Boy is a talent. A magnificent and pure one at that.

Legend is glad about the fact this gal is being in Vought's favour. She has the voice and the looks, and he can feel it, everyone working in the studio can feel it. The chemistry between the two. Maybe, just maybe, he can consider making them a screen couple after the song hits the audience on cloud nine.

It's been a good day today. The records are going smoothly. The only thing that might've disturbed it was Jack Harold's presence in Soldier Boy's. The latter has a thing about the former. And casting professional shit aside, the man is hubristic and kind of unpleasant. Luckily, he doesn't come by often. Jack dropped by from time to time to establish his presence. Nothing harmful, yet.

Legend only hopes Soldier Boy keeps his cool in front of Jack just for a couple of days more. Legend watches the duo sing in a flawless consonance.

Everything is at ease until a rambunctious Noir barges in the studio, seeing red.

The music of “Just The Two Of Us” slowly dwindles away, as yours and Soldier Boy's melts into the walls of the recording room.

“You’re standing in my place, Soldier Boy.” Noir enunciates.

Soldier Boy wries a brow the young supe.

The palpable tension is a clear cue for the crew to scramble out of the recording room, because they know better not to get in between two supes. Legend watches from the control room, he notices that you aren't running like the rest of the staff. Instead you take the spot behind Soldier Boy.

The latter can hear your heartbeat quicken up and can distinguish it from Noir’s; each has its unique pattern like a thumbprint. And at the moment, Noir's is gushing with fury, and yours… Well, yours is bumping with fear and… excitement?

Soldier Boy scoffs at Noir, a small grin playing on his lips. “Your place?” He snickers, “Listen up, kid—”

“No, you listen to me, Ben.” Noir spits, “This is where you fucking stop getting in my way!”

Soldier Boy bursts out laughing, “Getting in your way? Kid, this is my hit, before your old man knocked up your mama.”

That's it. Noir couldn't take more insult into his wound and marches forward, launching an attack at Soldier Boy. However, the more seasoned supe grabs his fist in his first with ease.

Soldier Boy tilts his head, glancing at you over his shoulder, “You might as well get outta her, sweetheart, things are gonna get a little bit messy.”

You don't need to be told twice. Your feet hit the air as you scurry out of the room. But… Noir takes the shot and hauls you in his free hand and hurls you to the wall. You wail as you fall on the floor.

“You little shit!” Soldier Boy grits his molars and grasps Noir’s arms and fixes him to his spot before he headbutts the younger supe. Three hits were enough to make Noir stagger backwards, giving Soldier Boy the chance to punch Noir's cheeks, then depositing him unconscious onto the floor.

Soldier Boy lips twitch at the pathetic little shit, before he walks in your direction, crouching down to your level.

“Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?” Unlike the brutal scene from moments ago, Soldier Boy's touch is gentle when he holds you up to check for any injury. Luckily, and thanks to Soldier Boy, Noir couldn't exert enough power to cause any severe damage to you but manageable bruises and a sprained ankle.

Legend watches at the mess from behind the scenes as supe crisis staff pour into the room to clear that mess up. He doesn't heed anything of his attention but how Soldier Boy insisted on carrying you up in his arms to get patched up in his own personal quarters.

Legend lights up a cigar and wonders what kind of spells you cast on Soldier Boy that he's so smitten with you. Could it be you're a supe with hypnotising powers? Maybe, but if so, you'd have been within Vought's records.

But nothing of the sort was found on you. You're just a human with a pretty face and vocal talents that happened to captivate the mind of the current most important asset of Vought. He expected Soldier Boy to get bored and toss you aside after a couple of days when he was done with you. But Legend was gravely mistaken. For the past weeks, Soldier Boy only got more enamoured by your charms and was putty in your hand with only a bat of your pretty eyelashes. Legend kept an eye on both of you everyday to see how that was coming along, and it surprised him to say the least.

Perhaps they can use you to their benefit for a better communication with the supe, Legend says. Because as the days pass by, Soldier Boy is only getting older and out of touch with each day. He's become more tenacious and hard to deal with each day. Maybe you could become a key for a new affair. Who knows, maybe when the song is all the rage in the country, people will like the idea of pairing you together better than Soldier Boy with Countess. People would find a human girl paired up with Soldier Boy more appealing and more relatable. Legend flick the cigar in the ashtray on the dashboard in the control room. He shakes his head, and gets back to reality. There are two injured people in the mess today which makes him release a series of expletives as he huffs a vapour of smoke.

He sighs. The things he does for talents.

“Oww!” You groan as the medic dabs an alcohol-soused piece of cotton on your ankle.

“Careful with that one. She's delicate.”

Soldier Boy tells the medic as he patches you up.

When he's done, he leaves you with several plasters on your body and a swollen ankle wrapped with a white bandage.

Great. Now you're gonna be useless for few days. You sigh, already picturing the querulous frown on Jack's face. You're gonna miss a couple nights at his clubs.

“Relax, you’re gonna be fine.” He offers you a glass of whiskey with rocks. “I know you're no snowflake.”

You take a gulp of your drink and the searing sensation temporarily numbs the bitterness you've held for the most of your life.

You sigh again, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you. In times of vulnerability like this, you can't be but haunted by the memory of your brother. The only family you had before your life took a shitty turn and snatched him away from you. Before you met Jack. Before you've become this.

You drown yourself in self pity and scoff. Life wasn't just a bitch by depriving you of your care-taker and protector, it also threw Jack Harold in your way who moulded you into what you are now. A complete hypocrite, who lives off kissing ass and sucking dicks.

Soldier Boy studies you before he pours you another. He knows you need another shot.

“You know…” You say after you feel the tantalising burn in your esophagus. “I didn't remember being roughhoused by one of you folks in our contract. Plus, what did he mean by you getting in your way?”

You usually won't care, but you're really curious what rubbed Noir the wrong way that he hurled you across the recording room. For all you know, and from what you've heard from the halls of Vought, he was on a solo mission.

Soldier Boy jeers. “The kid's delusional. He thinks I pulled the song from under his feet when in fact, Legend begged me to do it.” He swallows a mouthful of his drink.

You sigh again, “But isn't he a member of Payback? I thought you guys are like family.”

Soldier Boy sneers, “The kid needs to be reminded to respect the chain of command every once in awhile. He shouldn't have crossed me with such impudence.” Then through his fleeting ire, a sly grin pulls at his lips as he tips your chin up, “And he shouldn't have touched what belongs to me.”

A bemused shiver roils through your spine at his claim of ownership of you. You can't be his. You're Jack's. The latter made sure of it. Being Jack's property would be a dread to any woman, but wanting to be Soldier Boy's is frightening. You saw what he did to Noir with a sliver of his strength, the fact he can snap you in two halves like a toothpick makes your bowels liquid. However, you can't ignore the twinge in your core when he said it. No, no. You learnt how to lie and be a fake bitch to other people, but not to yourself. You don't misinterpret the aching throb between your legs for this man. No, no. You crave to be his, you wish he'd snatch you away from Jack the way life snatched your brother away from you; once and for all.

You drum up what remains of your deteriorating aplomb and keep your chin up. “I wish to be compensated.”

Soldier Boy quirks a brow up. “You want compensation?”

You nod at your bruises, “If you want me to be yours, you must show me.”

He falls silent for a moment that elapses like a year. Then, another grin curves his lips up. “Show you…”

“I want you to show me something I've never seen… Can you do that?”

His grin widens, it almost resembles a shark's. “I think I can, dollface.”

After a few days, and after your bruises fade away into yellowish smudges, Soldier Boy keeps his words.

He sneaks you out of Vought after you two finish recording the damn song. Pleasure after business as he told you. You only thank Christ that you conducted the visuals a day before Noir came back and almost ruined your work.

He takes you to a building in the heart of the city, the sliding spyhole glides open, an eye peeks through it, and as soon as it perches on Soldier Boy, the door immediately clicks open.

You step in, dogging Soldier Boy's steps. He turns to you and smirks. “Welcome to Herogasm, sweetheart.”

🦅 Previous Chapter: A New Window

🦅 Next Chapter: Unmasked.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist

🦅 The Boys Masterlist

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @prurose

@leavli, @robertthehoover, @soldiergrimes, @vanessa-boo, @uddiifiigj...

[kinardsevan]

🤍

🤍 kiss at the wedding / milestone

Evan chuckles as Tommy tugs his hand, dipping out of the reception hall and around the corner, down one hallway and then another, until they’re far enough away that none of their guests have eyes on them. ‘Need help with my cufflinks’ he’d said, conveniently peeling off his navy suit jacket as they’d walked out of the hall a minute before. Because sure, absolutely, he was going to change into something more casual. 

Tommy spins them around until Evan’s back is flat against the wall, smirking at him as he presses his body against the younger man’s, brushing his nose up against Evan’s. 

“Feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” he murmurs, his voice husky with want. Why did they agree to no sex the week of the wedding? 

“That’s because you haven’t,” Evan replies, sliding his hands around his husband’s hips, his long, nimble fingers squeezing both ass cheeks. Tommy moans softly, their foreheads pressed gently together as he grinds his hips up against Evan’s, ghosting his lips over the watermelon pink of Evan’s, his breath hot on the younger man’s mouth. Evan moans back. “God, Tommy, you can’t do that.” 

“Can’t do what,” he rasps, tilting his head and nuzzling their noses again. His bottom lip brushes over Evan’s top, and the younger man practically mewls, pulling the older man tighter against his body. 

“Fuck,” Evan whispers. 

“Really just needed a few minutes to do this,” Tommy replies back just as softly. And then his lips are fully on Evan’s, fiery and aggressive, his tongue lapping inside like he hasn’t eaten in a week, like they didn’t make out the entire drive over from the park after the wedding party photos were done. Evan moans into his mouth and Tommy’s hand is firm on his spine, keeping him close. He can still taste the cupcake Evan was just splitting with Jee not five minutes before. 

When Tommy starts to pull away, Evan moves with him, his right arm coming up to Tommy’s jaw and holding him close, practically trying to devour his new husband. Still, eventually they have to break apart for air, and Tommy’s head tilts down, eyes closed, letting the moment last a little longer as Evan stares at him with that same level of wonder he had after their first kiss. 

“God damn. Sometimes I don’t think forever is going to be long enough,” he murmurs, watching as Tommy’s eyes slowly flutter open. Tommy tilts his head up then, a smile crossing his lips. 

“Hopefully it’s a decent start,” he replies. He leans in, kisses Evan once more, softer and chaste. “Now get me out of these damn cuff links so people don’t think we just snuck off to have a quickie.” 

Evan quirks an eyebrow at him, the smirk on his face growing as he reaches for Tommy’s left arm. “I mean-..” 

“Evan Philip Buckley-Kinard,” Tommy admonishes. “We will dismiss ourselves from our reception in twenty minutes like respectable adults.” 

Evan just waggles his eyebrows in response, tilting his hips towards Tommy’s again, pressing a hand into the older man’s spine once more and grinding, just once. Tommy groans. 

“Twenty minutes,” Evan repeats cheekily. 

[a-libra-writes]

Hello Libra, I just like to say that I really love your work and I love how you depict all these characters so well!

I was wondering if you can do some jealousy headcanons for the Lackadaisy characters?

Danke!! GN reader, most reference a relationship or romantic interest.

♣️Rocky - His jealousy is very obvious to anyone who bothers to pay attention. It is not less obvious or pathetic when you're in a relationship, either. Rocky will find any excuse to interrupt you and the other person, scare them off, redirect your attention, and so forth. It can become very distracting and annoying, so it's best to address the problem right away. The jealousy 100% stems from Rocky's fears of abandonment - not that he'd recognize that - so reassuring him and soothing that insecurity helps a lot. Sometimes his jealous reactions are just that, knee-jerk reactions that he doesn't fully think through. It's safe to say the insecurity is less of an issue the longer you both are together, especially if you're already a very affirming and affectionate partner.

♣️Freckle - The big-eyed boy has a quiet, passive jealousy that he may not notice right away. It stems from inadequacy, and he believes himself to be inadequate in many things, especially when it comes to relationships. He doesn't exactly have a lot of experience, you know? It'll be a constant needling build-up, though his uh, night time shooty activities helps get a lot of that aggression out. He's very open to talking things over, but you'd have to bring it up first. Freckle would rather stew in Catholic-level feelings of guilt before ever talking about it; but talks help a lot! Reassuring him goes a long way, and making sure he brings up his negative feelings before they get so bad.

♣️Ivy - While she's quite easygoing and not prone to jealous thoughts that often, when they do pop up, it manifests as an intense "my best-friend-who-I-tooootally-have-platonic-feelings-for-is-dating-someone-new-and-I-suddenly-hate-that-person". She pouts, she plots, she makes her displeasure known to you - she just gets an off feeling from that person. No, it's not mature, and she can get pretty catty about it - but she's also only 18~19. If you're femme then Ivy can easily dismiss her feelings as just missing her best friend - it'll take extra time to realize they aren't entirely platonic. If you both were together and already had conversations about this, that burning jealousy melts away to a little spark she feels now and again. She'll ignore it, knowing it's just a dumb thing that'll pass as soon as you're back at her side.

♣Mitzi - As much as she acts like she's above such things, Mitzi is the same as anyone else in developing jealous feelings. She recognizes them at once and just wants to bury them down, it's so embarrassing. It's even worse if she gets antsy about someone being overly friendly or flirty with you. What is she, a schoolgirl? The anger at herself might irk Mitzi even more than the person whose being so forward with you. She can get quite passive aggressive toward them, coating her barbs with honey - and that might get directed toward you if she feels you're also being too friendly with them. None of this lasts long - Mitzi would rather have a drink and kiss and make up. She's too old too ladylike for this silly nonsense.

♣Viktor - Just because he recognizes what he's feeling doesn't mean the old Slovak processes them in a healthy way (like, at all). To strangers, he's his usual frightening self, but to those who know him they can tell there's a distinct animosity coming off him. He's not a possessive type, but Viktor already feels miserable about himself and that he doesn't deserve you in the slightest - the idea of someone better coming along is not an impossibility. Now, he can't simply grab them by the neck and throw them out a window just for talking .. .and that'd upset you. So Viktor settles for being in a terrible mood until you soothe him. Attempting to talk him through it just makes him feel worse about himself.

♣Zib - Oh, he recognizes it quick, and Zib haaaates feeling this way. It's so pathetic, so annoying. He should be the bigger person, just suck it up and walk away, but ... nah. If he's been drinking, he's absolutely going to make snide comments and act inappropriate. You drag his drunk ass aside and he does feel a little (kinda) bad about he acted ... some days he's better about it. It's so cliche, but he knows what he's like as a partner. He doesn't offer much, and even if you've made it clear you still care about him, the insecurities and negative feelings can dig into him... especially after booze. He perks right up after some cuddling.

♣Atlas - He doesn't show it outwardly at all. Atlas keeps his impassive expression, outsiders can't tell the difference, but you and his two closest triggermen might pick up the iciness in his eyes. Eventually, that frost would melt into his voice. He would consider any jealous feelings beneath him, if he deigned to call them that. Instead, he'd translate it as disrespect: Whoever is being too personal with you and inspiring these feelings is disrespecting him. It's ... probably best that they move on.

🏵Serafine - Jealousy isn't something that comes easily to her. She's too free-spirited, and she doesn't like the idea of holding another down. She'd hate for you to restrict her, so why should she do the same to you? That said, there are a few times when it comes up. There are always those who want to flirt with you and get too close for her liking, but ... it's also fun to watch. She lets the little pangs of jealousy build up until you return to her side, and Serafine will tease you for doing it on purpose. There's a reason she likes to leave lipstick stains and bites on you. Note, if you try to incite jealousy in her on purpose, she'll see it as a game - but if you're seriously trying to provoke something, it's just irksome. Isn't that a bit childish?

🏵Nico - Like his sister, Nico isn't one for jealousy. He's inspired plenty of it and isn't a fan, and like Serafine, he won't tie you down if you don't do the same to him. Truthfully, he has much less patience for it. Some may think he doesn't feel jealous at all; but Nico is actually just good at dealing with it in a healthy way. He waits until you're back at his side and showers extra attention on you - it's pretty funny when the person who was flirting starts glaring at you. As long as you're not intentionally trying to get a rise out of him, he's chill.

🏵Mordecai - He's awful about it, made worse that he refuses to acknowledge it. It really doesn't kick in until you both have this sort-of-kind-of understanding that's a mess to navigate to begin with, never mind if jealousy comes into play. Mordecai both feels it strongly and denies it with as much strength. Some stranger trying to be smooth is irksome, but not the end of the world. But someone who has a sustained relationship with you? Who gets to touch you and be close to you on the regular? Nope. He's argumentative and prickly anytime they come up. By the time he figures out what his feelings are about, he'd rather chew off his own tail than ever bring it up.

🏵Wes - His flavor of jealousy tends to come from either inadequacy or possessiveness. If the person flattering you and getting too close is some idiot he works alongside, you better believe his hackles raise and he puts them in their place. If it's someone he can't immediately beat down, or if they seem ... well, better than him in some way, the jealousy quietly simmers underneath. Your initial attempts to talk it out are bust, considering the time period and his own machismo ... but he can come around once you reassure him. And wait, didn't he want this to be a casual thing? What's he getting so worked up about, anyway?

🏔Wick - When they build up, he quickly recognizes the jealous feelings in himself. It's something Wick is familiar with, and dislikes - as if it's a personal failing, and not a thing everyone goes through. Depending on how long it sticks around, he can become a little withdrawn and even unsure. It just feels so childish, but he's still glad to get some reassurances. He insists it's not necessary, but Wick still gives you that dopey, painfully affectionate smile you're used to. He's also someone who handles it maturely, and they seem to go as quickly as they come. They may linger if there's already some obstacle between you two - maybe he hasn't brought up his feelings, you're masc so he can't be as open with his affection, and so on - but he's still recognizing these negative feelings and willing to work through them.

[dirtyvulture]

Peeping Kate Bishop - Part 9

Possessive!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 1604

Summary: Kate gets caught in an awkward spot.

AN: Our favorite peeper is back! Check out the other parts here. Enjoy!

“Can I borrow your vest?” Kate asks, skipping over to Yelena in the kitchen.

“What for, Kate Bishop?” Yelena responds, not even looking up at her to focus on lining up the banana slices on her peanut butter sandwich.

“Clint’s taking me on a mission with Steve tomorrow. He said to pack light, and I know your vest has a lot of pockets to make things easier to carry,” Kate explains.

“Yes, that is the purpose of the pockets.”

“So can I borrow it? I’ll make sure to clean it before I give it back,” Kate says.

“I didn’t think green was your color,” Yelena comments.

“The color doesn’t matter,” Kate exasperates. “Please?”

Yelena pauses like this is an extremely important decision she’s about to make. “Sure,” she finally says. 

“Yay! Thanks, Yelena!” Kate disappears towards the bedrooms, but comes back a minute later empty-handed. “Where’d you put it?” she asks Yelena.

“What do you mean?” Yelena takes a big bite of her sandwich.

“Where’s your vest?”

“Is it not in my closet?”

“Nope,” Kate responds.

“Oh!” Yelena swallows. “My sister borrowed it last week. It’s probably still in her room.”

“H-Her room?” Kate had basically self-banned herself from going into Natasha’s (and yours) room after the amount of times she had stumbled in on the two of you in what should have been very private moments.

“Her and Y/N are still coming back from a mission,” Yelena says dismissively. “Just be quick, Kate Bishop.”

“Right, right.” 

Kate wanders down the hall, her heart beating in anticipation. She stops at Natasha’s door, knocking several times and waiting for a response. When she gets none, she pushes the door open slowly, completely relieved to find it empty. She goes into the closet (which she’s envious to find is almost as big as her entire room) and starts pawing through the clothes, embarrassed to recognize which ones are yours just from the scent lingering on them.

She fights the urge to bury her nose in one of your hoodies, hunting around for Yelena’s vest. It doesn’t seem to be anywhere, and she goes through the clothes on the hangers one at a time, hoping to find it.

Suddenly, Kate hears voices and runs back to the closet door, but is too late and sees you and Natasha walk in. She gets tangled in a pair of sweatpants on the floor and nearly falls through the door, but catches herself on the frame just in time. Natasha’s eyes sweep past the ajar door, but Kate shrinks back and holds her breath. Natasha gives her no second glance.

“I’m ready to sleep for a year,” you announce, dropping your bag with a loud thud by the door and throwing yourself onto the bed. Natasha jumps on your back with a giggle, and Kate’s heart pounds in her throat. She has to make her presence known now, or she knows she will severely regret this moment for the rest of her life.

“You can’t sleep now,” Natasha pouts, as you roll onto your back and let her lie on your chest.

Kate puts her hand on the door and starts opening it–

“You have to fuck me first.”

The blood drains out of Kate’s face and she shrinks back. She can’t leave now. 

“You think I didn’t feel the strap you’re wearing?” Natasha says, aggressively rocking her hips against yours and you moan. Kate feels a jolt go straight to her core when she hears you, and she kneels down, cupping herself between her legs and trying to will away her arousal.

“The mission kind of tired me out,” you admit.

“Well, you can just sit back and let me do the work,” Natasha smirks. It still surprises you sometimes how horny she can be, but you would never deny her.

“Sure, baby.” You scoot up higher on the bed, taking off your clothes and throwing them to the side haphazardly, letting Natasha grind on your strap. 

Kate inhales sharply and slaps a hand over her mouth to hide her awe. Even though Natasha is blocking most of her view of you, Kate still thinks that you are the most beautiful specimen she’s ever seen. Your body looks like it was sculpted by God himself, your muscles perfectly proportioned, the features of your face set in the most attractive way Kate could even think of. Kate is pretty sure she’d be willing to commit murder if it meant getting her hands on you, even for a few minutes. But since that possibility would never happen in this universe, she had to settle for the next best thing: watching you with your actual partner and pretending it was with her instead.

Natasha strips off her clothes and continues grinding against you, placing her hand on the center of your chest and pushing you back against the headboard. Kate can hear you panting now and her own heartbeat picks up and she surges forward until she almost hits her head on the door. 

“You’re so beautiful, Nat,” you say, and Kate pretends you’ve said her own name instead. 

“Just relax, baby. I’ll handle this,” Natasha says. Still, your hands wrap around her thighs, lifting her up just so Kate can see the bottom of the strap you’re wearing and the filthiest thoughts flood her head. Natasha sinks down on your strap and moans. You start to rock your hips, and Kate has had enough. 

She hastily unzips her own jeans, a mix of embarrassment and shame filling her at what she’s about to do, but then she hears you moan again and watches as your girlfriend rides you roughly, your muscles flexing as you keep both of your bodies upright. Kate slips her hand past her panties, pushing two fingers into herself, shocked at how wet she already is. She wishes it was your fingers instead, clenching hard around herself at the thought. She wishes she could have you pinned to your bed, her hands holding onto your biceps, rubbing her center against your rock-hard abs until she cums over and over.

“Fuck, you fill me up so well,” Natasha moans, bouncing on your lap. Kate pumps into herself harder, swiping her thumb over her clit and her legs tremble at the extra stimulation.  

“Cum all over my strap,” you tell her, and Kate wants to scream that she would do anything for you. She’s soaking all over her hand and she bites on her bottom lip to stop herself from making any noise. She has never reached an orgasm so fast and doesn’t even notice that Natasha’s finished and climbs off your lap, taking your strap off before dipping her head between your legs.

“Oh, fuck. Right there, baby.”

Your voice makes Kate peek out the crack of the door again. She wants to faint now at the sight of you flat on your back, your chest and stomach heaving with Natasha’s mouth attached to your center. 

Kate’s mouth practically waters as she wonders what you would taste like, how the weight of your muscular thighs would feel in her arms as she tries to keep your legs apart, but then she’ll give in so you can wrap them around her head to draw her closer to you. Again, Kate starts fingering herself, still frustrated at how close yet far she is from you. She closes her eyes to properly imagine being between your legs and bringing you to a blissful high, pretending that it’s her name you’re moaning instead of Natasha’s.

Your hand threads into Natasha’s hair as another obscene moan escapes your lips. You’ve already cum twice and Natasha seems to have no intent of stopping any time soon. Her lips close around your clit and suck hard, and you’re gone again. But after the fog clears from your head, your legs trembling uncontrollably and your skin covered in sweat, you finally push Natasha’s head away from you.

“Okay, okay, I’m done, baby,” you say, feeling like she’s literally drained the life out of you.

“That enough for you?” Natasha says, winking as she sits up and wipes her mouth.

“Yeah.” You flop back on the pillows, panting.

Natasha gets off the bed, grabbing the bathrobe hanging behind the front door. You lift your head enough to watch her lazily. She comes back to the bedside, reaching under the nightstand into the mini fridge and taking out a bottle of red Gatorade.

“Stay hydrated, baby,” she says, giving it to you with a kiss.

“Thank you.” You open the bottle and offer her the first sip. She smiles as she takes it, then moves to throw the blanket over you. You’re too tired to question her, taking the Gatorade back and chugging it. 

Natasha goes to stand in front of the closet, which is slightly ajar. She crosses her arms and says, “Kate Bishop, get out of the closet.” Your eyes widen as the door seems to open on its own and Kate Bishop emerges, shuffling forward uneasily with her hands buried in her pockets. Her zipper is down, but no one comments on this.

“I am not going to ask, just get the hell out of our room,” Natasha growls.

Kate nods, her face redder than you’ve ever seen before, and waddles out of your room.

“Did you know she was in there?” you finally ask after a few moments of silence.

Natasha smirks at you.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Rollo ttsum headcanons? 👀

THIS REMINDS ME 😭 I saw a really cute doujin of Rollo + his aide and VP running into a Rollo Tsum and then deciding to take care of it for the day…

Curiouser and Curiouser…

… It’s uncanny how closely the Tsum looks like Rollo. It even has a teeny-tiny ring (can that even be removed?????), a teeny-tint hat, and teeny-tiny dark circles under its eyes. Whoa, it even has a teeny-tiny handkerchief to hold to its nose when it feels totally disgusted! o.O

If you ask Rollo what his thoughts are on the Tsum, he’ll pull out the handkerchief and make a dismissive comment about how it’s such a meddlesome creature. (Rollo refuses to acknowledge that it is cute and that he’d fight anyone that hurt it, no matter how much he is pestered to confess.)

NBC Aide-kun and Vice President-kun instantly become massive fans of Tsum!Rollo--

It’s early to rise!! Before your alarm clock can wake you up, Tsum!Rollo is already crawling on your face and bouncing on your stomach, indicating that you should wake up right now. (… The sun hasn’t even risen yet.)

Despite looking sleep-deprived, Tsum!Rollo has a lot of energy—most of it being dedicated to being mad of its far larger peers. Sometimes its anger is so great that it vibrates intensely and radiates warmth like a little portable heater.

It likes to crawl into the folds of Rollo’s hat and stand vigilant as a self-appointed lookout. He scolds it and tells it not to, but it doesn’t listen—it only listens to its own set of self-righteous morals.

Tsum!Rollo likes sitting around in quiet, peaceful places not doing anything in particular but soaking up the ambience. Be careful where you step in the Mirror Chamber or the library, you just might accidentally squish the poor little thing!!

For some reason, animals love bullying Tsum!Rollo. The pigeons chase it around, peck at it, and steal its hat for sport. Lucius hisses when Tsum!Rollo is close. Even the usually behaved Hearslabyul hedgehogs and flamingos push the lil' bean around. Something about Tsum!Rollo is just so... bulliable...

It likes flowers; Tsum!Rollo can be see waddling amongst them on sunny days. It has a fondness for red ones, sometimes picking them in its stubby little hands to pass off to Rollo. “I see that you can appreciate the finer things in life.” He accepts it with a small smile, but inside, he’s wearing a far more wicked grin.

Tsum!Rollo glares at other Tsums and people in general; it can’t talk, so it seems to stare judgmentally at others instead. If its SUPER upset, then it’ll approach with its tiny staff and smack you with it to demonstrate its anger.

The little guy’s so enthused about bells! Hand it a sleigh bell and Tsum!Rollo will happily (and aggressively) chime it all day. The incessant sound will be forever burned into your head.

It enjoys cleaning. Because Tsum!Rollo is so small, it can’t scrub down an entire room, but it sure as heck will try to!! It’ll ride its own little scrub brush around, giving the floors and dust a deep cleaning. If it's not careful, it’ll slip off and crash into the soapy bubbles, emerging as a fluffy white yeti. You can also find Tsum!Rollo polishing any metal it comes across and washing down stone statues (the gargoyles appreciate it).

Tsum!Rollo loves grapes! (Unfortunately, its size only allows for it to get full on a single one.) It hangs around like a dog begging for scraps as Rollo eats his lunch. When it comes down to the final grape, Rollo sighs and hands it over to the Tsum. It happily absorbs the orb right out of his fingers, leaving Rollo stunned and wondering how Tsums eat without a mouth. “It must be the devil’s design…”

It tries so hard to take notes using a quill. The feather, however, being as droopy as it is, keeps smacking Tsum!Rollo’s hat or face as it bobs up and down with each written letter. Tsum!Rollo preserves though—it wants to finish this doodle of a city on fire! (“… It has surprisingly violent thoughts,” Rollo notes. He quietly approves.)

Tsum!Rollo actively refuses to enter Diasomnia. If you try to take it to the mirror, it’ll squirm out of your grasp and dash away, hiding until it has emotionally cooled off.

If it spots Malleus in public, Tsum!Rollo puffs up like an aggressive cat and rushes to tackle him into submission. (The same goes for other boys that anger Tsum!Rollo enough, but most of his rage is dedicated to Malleus.)

When Tsum!Rollo uses his UM, it becomes a literal little fireball…!

Rollo uses his Tsum!self as a stress ball (which the Tsum doesn’t seem to mind for some reason). Sometimes it inflates to a much larger size and he buries his head into it to scream in frustration.

After a long day of shenanigans, Tsum!Rollo has tuckered itself out. It lulls off into a gentle sleep, swathed in the moon and the stars of Rollo’s full-sized handkerchief. “… Silly thing,” he murmurs, holding it close to his chest. “That you are able to live this burden-free existence is truly a blessing.”

[improbable-outset]

𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲...

A small vent drabble. Inspired by this TikTok. I made a character.ai bot of this too 🥹

Miguel leaned against the doorframe, watching you in the office room as you worked on your project. You’ve been sitting in the same spot for a few hours now with your eyes fixated on the screen. It was coming up to 1am and you were typing aggressively on the keyboard, desperate to complete whatever it was you were working on. You haven’t been eating properly for the past few days, other than coffee and a few snacks, and running on little to no sleep. Miguel had even caught you falling asleep on your desk a few times. He missed sitting with you during dinner and hearing about your day. But recently, you’ve been so caught up with your work that you’ve barely spent time with him anymore and it was hurting his heart, not only because you didn’t have time for him, but also watching you drown yourself in your workload and being oblivious to your state. If you kept this up, you would burn out.

“Mi amor.” He called out, walking up towards your desk.

“Just a second, Miguel. I need to finish this paper.” You told him dismissively as you downed the last bit of coffee you were drinking from the paper cup before typing again, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“But could I have just a moment...”

“Yeah hold on. I’ll get to you I promise.”

“Mi amor, just listen to me please. Turn around and look at me.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was firm now, no room for negotiation. Finally, you stopped typing and turned your chair to face him. Miguel lowered himself so he was leveled with you. He could see how dry your eyes were and how heavy your eyelids must’ve been from the lack of sleep. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the amount of coffee you’ve been having. That’s like what? Your sixth cup?”

“Seventh, actually.” You admitted sheepishly, averting your gaze away. Miguel could only sigh in response, pinching the prince of his nose. He wasn’t mad at you in particular. He could never be mad at you. But seeing you overwork yourself like this, pained him. You were always so determined and sometimes stubborn whenever it came to things you were passionate about and though that was one of the things he loved about you, it worried him that you didn’t know your limits.

“Mi vida, I know you want to get this project done, but it’s not healthy for you to work this late.” He took your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze, a silent reminder of his presence and love for you. “You’re not going to get it done anytime soon in this state. You need to recharge. Please, do it for yourself, and if not then at least do it for me. For us.” He pleaded, looking intently into your droopy eyes. You stayed silent, contemplating on what to do. You sighed and figured that he was right, you couldn’t work in this condition. You got up from your seat and your knee joints clicked from being stationary for so long - Miguel got up too and scooped you up, holding you in his arms, bridal style.

“I can’t walk you know,” you joked.

“I know but I miss having you in my arms like this.” He teased back, taking you to your shared bedroom and kicking the door close behind him with his leg.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 11 Surrogate

A Desertwalkers Weird West AU Story (I did not intend to write any of the FC AUs, but such things happen. How the Strikers' perpetual helpfulness lands them a new home...)

“Now hold on just a minute,” Zaine said, staring at the Landsguard officer. The doppro rider stared back, impatience evident. “This was supposed to be a temporary position.”

“I am simply the messenger,” the officer replied with a shrug of his mottled shoulders. “Take it up with the city if you wish to change the terms of the contract.”

Zaine stared down at the paper before him. He had sort of fallen into helping Stonewood’s judiciary with the claims office, as he was a decent mediator, able to make friends with both locals and those coming to the plains of Xak Tural for work in the ceruleum refineries and railway expansion. There were land disputes, and water disputes, and animal issues, and crop concerns...

But he was just here for the interim. They would find a real officer from Tuliyollal to take over, and Zaine and his sister could move on, exploring the land as they had planned. Once things settled down a bit for Stonewood and the friends they had made here.

The writ from the city, delivered by the increasingly impatient Landsguard officer, not only confirmed Zaine permanently for the role, but expanded the responsibilities—as someone dealing with the local property issues would also be responsible for estate settlement and the probate of wills.

“I might have to,” Zaine said, a headache coming on. “I didn’t really think they would hire an immigrant drifter into such a position.”

Then again, he and Aeryn had stood up to Baelsar and his aggressive expansion on behalf of this town and neighboring communities. That probably had a chunk to do with it.

The officer chuckled. “What you get for being good at it,” he said. “And Tuliyollal is more concerned with what one chooses to do, than where one is from. We could not have formed our nation otherwise.”

“Suppose that’s true,” Zaine muttered. “All right, I won’t take more of your time. I’d best speak to my sister and see what we do from here.”

“Great. Have a good day,” the officer said, leaving before Zaine could get his own farewell in.

Well. All right then.

He closed up his office for the day (and it really was his office now, wasn’t it?) and stepped out into the hot, dusty street. He thought of getting a drink, thought better of it, and continued on to the schoolhouse, where Aeryn had been helping out.

Aeryn was outside, class apparently dismissed for the day. She was talking to one of the adolescent students, a petite redhead she seemed fond of. Or maybe it was the girl’s uncle, a smarmy, fair-haired, gunblade-using bodyguard for the local coven, and sometimes bouncer for the Cat’s Eye Cabaret. Normally Aeryn didn’t notice anyone who noticed her. But there was...something...in the way her and the bodyguard interacted that made Zaine’s brotherly hackles rise.

His sister saw him coming now, smiling and waving cheerfully, her student following suit. Nice girl, that Ryne. Her mum was a lovely blonde mining foreman, often busy, hence the girl spending more time with her uncle. There was some connection to the cabaret owner, too. Zaine hadn’t thought he needed to worry too deeply about complicated family dynamics around here.

Maybe he would have to start.

Ryne stayed long enough to greet him before skipping off to meet with her friends, taking the hand of a dark-haired gal as the youths rushed off. Aeryn let out a deep breath. “I have something to talk to you about,” she said with no preamble.

“I have something to talk to you about,” Zaine answered, walking with her toward the rooms they were renting. “You go first.”

“The superintendent rode out today,” she said. “They want to extend my contract.”

Zaine frowned. “Thought this teaching gig was a temporary thing?”

“I thought so too, but they’re having trouble finding anyone qualified willing to come out here, and I’m apparently doing well enough for the board and the parents both. And the children are all so good…”

“And you want to stay,” Zaine said.

“I’ve thought about it,” Aeryn admitted. “It still may not be forever, but...for awhile?” She looked over at him.

“Well,” he said. “That could work. Considering my interim position isn’t so interim now.”

“Were you fired?”

“What? No! Why is that your first assumption?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve only known you my whole life.”

“Whatever, smartypants. It’s the opposite actually. They made my role permanent.”

Aeryn hugged him, grinning. “This is a good thing, right?”

He hugged her back. “I mean, yeah. I didn’t really expect it so it caught me off guard.”

“This is what you get for standing up to Baelsar.”

“I guess. You did too, though, and that might have convinced the board to keep you around.”

She shrugged. “I helped a little. You did most of it.”

He shook his head. He couldn’t ever seem to convince her that she was, possibly, more instrumental to such actions than himself. She would continue to blow it off until getting angry if pushed, so he let her change the subject.

“If we’re staying, we need somewhere to live besides a couple rented rooms.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he said. “Funnily enough, I am aware of available land around here. There’s a couple acres just outside town that I think between the two of use we could afford and manage, with our other work.”

“When you say a couple—”

“Literally two.”

She considered that, then nodded. “It’d be nice to have our own place. Weird, maybe, but nice.”

They stopped at the same time and looked at one another. Zaine began to smile, which made Aeryn smile in return.

“All right,” he said. “I guess we’re staying.”

[gabessquishytum]

Human au where to most everyone, Dream is a complete bitch, difficult to please and quick to be dismissive. He’s got a very small inner circle of friends he’s not as mean or rude to, but even to them he’s at best snarky or just neutral.

Except lately, whenever his new boyfriend Hob walks into the room, Dream will instantly make a complete 180 and become the sweetest, gentlest, most butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth innocent, tactile and lovely boyfriend in the world. Even if Dream is talking to other people, so long as Hob is still in the vicinity the worst anyone could call him is quiet (this doesn’t happen often though, as if Hob is in the vicinity Dream will usually opt for tucking himself into his side and shyly(!) hiding his face in Hob’s neck). It’s nothing Hob does or says that prompts it, not even a look or touch, Dream just does it the moment he’s within Hob’s presence. The transformation is so complete that anyone who’s only ever met Dream when he’s with Hob has no problem believing him to basically be Hob’s sweet little kitten.

Dream doesn’t acknowledge this at all, will go from one attitude to the other and back like a light switch based on Hob’s movements, and completely ignores the confusion and bewilderment from those around him. A few people have been brave enough to approach Hob alone and ask about the discrepancy, but he only shrugs and responds that he’s never seen Dream being mean, he’s only ever known his boyfriend as an absolute sweetheart. The whole situation leaves everyone feeling like they’re in the Twilight Zone and very off-kilter (and also wondering if it was at all possible to pay Hob to just follow Dream around and keep him docile).

(Unbeknownst to everyone, including Dream, Hob does in fact know that his boyfriend is normally bitchy and difficult to deal with. He’s just patiently waiting for Dream to feel more secure in their relationship to show that side of himself, to trust that Hob isn’t going anywhere and that Dream isn’t going to scare him off (honestly Hob is kind of looking forward to Dream bringing his mean side to the bedroom, either for some brat-taming or even for pushing Hob around). In the meantime, it’s not like the whole adorably sweet thing is entirely a bit, Dream genuinely feels that happy, pleased, and calm whenever Hob is around. So Hob will happily enjoy his darling kitten while he bides his time until Dream feels comfortable enough to show him his claws)

-🪽anon

I'm absolutely crying at the idea of Dream being like the equivalent of the kind of girl whose voice goes up an octave whenever her boyfriend is around (which I don't mean as criticism in any way btw, I just think it's hilarious). From panther to kitten in less than a second - his friends and family are getting whiplash!

Hob legitimately loves Dream at either end of the spectrum, and he loves the way he can see Dream coming out of his shell a little bit more every day. Like now sometimes Dream will freely make an incredibly grumpy face whenever Hob does something annoying. Or he'll passive aggressively correct something that Hob just did. All very small things, entirely normal within a relationship, and Hob just can't stop grinning each time.

The first time he really sees Dream’s mean side is when someone starts flirting excessively with Hob at a party. Dream inserts himself physically into the conversation, gives the guy this look like he's a bit of dirt on the floor. And he says something absolutely bitingly mean about his choice of clothes. Hob actually gasps, and has to stop himself from laughing.

Afterwards Dream is extra sweet, hiding away in Hob’s chest so cutely all evening. But once they're home, Hob carries him straight off to bed and gives him a thorough scolding for being such a naughty boy.

By "thorough scolding" I mean he really rewards Dream’s behaviour by eating his pretty little hole out until he cums untouched. But really, Hob was just so pleased to see his wonderful, sparky Dream come to life. How could he help encouraging his darling to be himself?

[darkdevasofdestruction]

hello !! I'd like to make a request, if that's alright. specifically about Obey Me

could you write headcanons for Mammon, Satan, Barbatos, and Solomon with an MC that struggles to talk/emote often? they're just so used to being talked over, interrupted, or told to calm down when they express emotion that now they find it difficult to do so without feeling like a burden.

thank you !!

Yeah sis, I totally get you with this thing. I basically gave up even bothering to try, so I just lay back and find amusement and the shit others gossip about.

If only we had these guys to help us, huh?

--- MAMMON

Mammon, of all people, would get it the most.

Being the bullied brother, he usually gets talked over and dismissed a lot, as others think he would just speak money related stuff, and about his greed.

But sometimes he does have great insight, and when he does and he’s not even getting any attention, he will be pouty all day.

At least you’d always listen to him, no matter how much he talked, or how silly it was!

You are such an amazing person - It only made his shock greater, once he saw how your so-called friends treated you, and he got both flabbergast and pissed off.

Why were they talking over you like that? Why weren’t they listening to anything you wanted to share with them?

They were basically just completely ignoring you, so you just sat there, laid back on the couch, fumbling on your phone, bored out of your mind and obviously ticked off, but it was obvious you were used to this.

Mammon’s solution for this is to grab you hand gently and bring you over to his room so you could hang out.

He won’t outwardly address the situation, but since you were so confused as to why he took out out of there, he just sighed and pulled you into a hug.

Poor Mammon is almost in tears as he compliments you and tells you how you’re too good for your friends and that you deserve better, you deserve to be listened and appreciated 

He will also reassure you that he will always be there to listen to you, no matter what you want to tell him, even if he has no idea what’s it all about - He wants you to be happy and feel as if you belong - Because to him, you’re his whole world.

----- SATAN

At first, he just stood there, reading on the couch and not paying much attention to the mundane talks of you and your human friends, but then he noticed how he only seldom heard your voice, and when he did, it sounded mousie, barely audible and interrupted way too many times.

It peaked his attention enough to occasionally look up from his book and ‘spy’ you in that circle of people - And he didn’t like what he was seeing.

You were repeatedly trying to open your mouth and speak out a sentence, but you weren’t able to utter more than three words before you were talked over and completely ignored to the point of giving up and wearing a passive-aggressive smile, looking up at the ceiling, barely able to keep yourself from getting overly frustrated and just storming the hell out of there.

By the looks of it, it wasn’t a singular occurrence, and it definitely irked him.

How DARE those puny humans treat his perfect beloved in such an awful way?

Satan vows to curse them and burn them alive, not before torturing them for an eternity.

He’s had enough.

He marches in front of you, and with a barely-contained smile, he will extend his hand for you to take, claiming that he has a new cat that he wants to introduce to you - Even if you don’t want to come, he would take you to his room and start cuddling you, his cat over your lap.

When you inquire about his odd behaviour, he flashes you that devilish smile of his and says that, should he have witnessed more of that interaction, he’s sure he would have burnt the whole House of Lamentation without realising, so he wanted to spare the both of you some trouble.

He won’t speak much, but would kiss your temple, letting you snuggle in his side while he reads to you any book that you want at that moment.

---- BARBATOS

Barbatos would probably be the calmest of them all, but at the same time, he would feel very affected at the way you’re being treated by the people you consider friends.

As far as he’s learnt about humanity, people who care about their peers don’t make them feel upset - And he could not only deduce, but feel your emotions clear as day.

You were trying to speak, but people were ignoring you.

He was hearing you, clear as day, but the more you talked, the louder the others got - And worst of all, they weren’t even looking at you!

Barbatos came up with a plan, though he was slightly afraid it might bring you some social discomfort - But he was going to do it regardless.

Preparing some nice tea, and secretly adding some strong laxatives in your friends’ teacups, and would come over to serve you before sitting on the couch next to you.

Your friends didn’t even thank him, but as you gave him a questioning look, he simply brought his finger up to his mouth and winked at you with a secretive smirk on his face and he put his arm around you, letting you lean on his shoulder.

Not long after, one by one, your friends started clutching their stomachs and started running away, until only you and Barbatos remained - And he was chuckling softly.

“Well then, my darling, how about you tell me exactly what story you were trying to tell those lowlives~?”

--- SOLOMON

Just like Barbatos, he’s a sketchy and mischievous little imp that would make fun of your so-called friends for treating you so awfully.

In his entire, very long existence, he only saw such people behaving that way around those they had no positive feelings for, so clearly, they were using you in some way.

No person would ever ignore their friend.

And when you called out to them a bit louder, telling you that you had a great idea for your next trip, you got told to quiet down because you were being too loud and obnoxious.

So, what did Solomon do?

He waltzed nonchalantly by your circle of friends and smiled that poisonous, fake smile of his, and flicked his fingers - And all your friends went quiet. 

And panicked.

The sorcerer than sat down leisurely on the couch opposite of you, one leg over the knee, fingers intertwined, yet fully unable to wipe that playful smirk off his face.

“The peace and quiet is really endearing, don’t you think, my darling? Though, I’d rather hear your sweet voice - So how about you tell me a nice, little story, hmm~?”

It took all the self-restraint he had not to turn his head to the side and watch with satisfaction as those jerks were fumbling around, unable to speak or even open their mouths - All because he wanted to have his focus entirely on you.

After all, you deserved only the best, and he wanted to prove and show that to you at all times.

[denaliwrites]

Trust in Me, Just in Me

Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader

Summary: You're not sure how, but you manage to convince Cale to take you to a Halloween festival.

Soundrack: Trust in Me by Scarlett Johansson

Requests: Open!

Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich.

"C'mon, Cale. It'll be fun!" You give him an enthusiastic grin, tugging him in the direction of the corn maze.

"Babe, you have the mental fortitude of a yorkie," he protests with a sigh. "The damn doorbell terrifies you."

You turn with a dejected pout. "That's not true! Just last week you took me to see that new scary movie and I didn't scream once!"

"You covered your eyes during Pirates of the Caribbean."

"One part, Cale! One part!"

You really aren't that terrified of everything, he just likes to tease you. And he'll never admit it, but he loves to tease you so much because the shade of pink your cheeks turn looks beautiful on you.

"Fine," he finally relents, and with an excited squeal you drag him to the entrance.

Despite his teasing, he never once lets your hand out of his grip, and he watches each and every one of your delightedly frightened reactions with rapt attention.

A few times you look back at him curiously, wondering why he's watching you so intently. Every time you're about to ask, another monster jumps out at you and your terrified yelp cuts off your thoughts, chasing them away.

You turn a corner and the werewolf that materializes at your side gets a little too close, making you not only scream but also jump back into Cale. His solid body doesn't flinch, but the arm that isn't attached to the hand holding yours does wrap around your waist protectively.

Curiously, the werewolf seems to retreat in fear. You look back to see Cale's face, but if there was anything there it's already passed, and he's looking at you with a brow cocked curiously.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Nothing. Just admiring you," you admit, an embarrassed smile blooming across your face.

"This hardly seems an appropriate place to be doing that," he comments dryly, and you giggle in response, releasing some nervous tension.

He coaxes you forward, and you dutifully continue.

There are a few more scares before you're out of the maze, and you prance out of it with a beaming grin. "See!" you say, parting from him so that you can turn to face him. "I was only a little scared."

His eyes are practically glued to you, but he seems distracted, only acknowledging you with a soft grunt.

"What is it?" you ask, hands wringing nervously.

He seems startled, coming back to himself with another, slightly more aggressive grunt. "Oh. Nothing," he replies, unconvincingly.

"You were staring at me through the whole maze, too," you continue. "And I'm pretty sure you were about to kill that werewolf..."

"Oh." He waves a hand dismissively. "No. It's..." He hesitates, making a sound at the back of his throat. "You're just... so trusting. You trusted me to keep you safe in there."

"Well... yeah," you say, blinking. "You're my boyfriend."

"I don't trust you to keep me safe," he replied, and you're expression dropped, and you could tell he immediately regretted saying it. "I don't mean... I trust you -- it's..." Another sound at the back of his throat. "I don't want you to have to keep me safe. I like being the protector."

"Sometimes the protectors do need protecting, though."

"If there's ever a time where I'm the one who needs to be protected, we've got a bigger problem than our roles in the relationship."

You're not sure what that means, but you don't press for an explanation. Instead, you take the step separating you and pull him into a hug.

"Thank you for protecting me in there," you murmur, and he wraps his arms around you.

"I always will."

[wedielike]

If u have time, I would love to request a fic about jealous Cher. Because he’s been selling his bf to the customers without hesitation :))) thank u

Sorry this took forever. But you can Read on AO3 or...

---

Ever since Yak won his world championship, the gym has been inundated with requests for personal training, which is a very good thing in Cher’s opinion. He doesn’t have to sell as much and Oyei can’t turn down legitimate work that helps the gym. Not that it’s hard to sell training sessions with both a current and former world champion on staff, especially since Yak kissed Dee on live television in front of thousands of fans. The amount of men who would normally never get near a boxing ring has tripled since then.

Cher knows it mostly comes down to how handsome the Phadetseuk brothers are—he gets a ridiculous amount of requests for Yak as a trainer. Fewer for Oyei but that doesn’t mean he’s any less desired. Cher has seen the way those older women flock to Oyei, fawning over him as he politely brushes them off.

It’s amusing to see, and sometimes Cher likes to perch in the doorway during sessions and watch Oyei fend off their advances. He does it so well, so easily most days, even with the most aggressive women.

Before they’d gotten together, Oyei had been known as something of a manwhore, going through women like tissues. It was obvious what he really needed wasn’t a woman, and Cher had proved that. Cher knows he has nothing to worry about when it comes to the women Oyei coaches.

The men on the other hand…

The gym is busy today, with multiple sessions going on, and Cher moves through the rooms, taking pictures for social media. He’s got a few good shots of Yak and the other boys. Oyei has a new client today—maybe he should get some video of training for reels.

He hears the conversation before he rounds the corner to the weight room.

“P’Yei, you look so strong. How much can you bench?”

“It’s been a while since I checked,” Oyei says, and it makes Cher smile. So many guys know the exact number so they can throw it out and impress people. “Maybe a couple hundred pounds.”

“Does that mean you could lift me?”

Stepping around the corner, Cher fixes his gaze on Oyei and the new guy. Oyei is fiddling with the equipment, adjusting the weights while the guy hangs on the bar, the waistband of his designer label tank top inching up.

Rolling his eyes, Cher isn’t surprised by the scene. After all, hadn’t he used the exact same tactics with Oyei the first time around?

“Probably,” Oyei answers simply, as if completely missing the innuendo. “But it’s more about strength training than being able to lift heavy things. You need to build up the muscles if you really want to pack a punch.”

The guy, a pretty little thing if Cher is forced to admit it with his slim hips, big wet eyes, and lips shiny with gloss, takes a step over to Oyei and reaches for his bare arm. “I bet you leave your opponents breathless.”

It’s ridiculous, how obvious this guy is, with his fingers grazing over Oyei’s arm.

Cher has seen it a thousand times—usually with women who compliment Oyei’s biceps, but Oyei always dismisses them so easily.

Oyei doesn’t this time, glancing at the fingers on his arm, as though he’s confused by the action. He shouldn’t be. He should know exactly what’s happening.

“I’ve knocked out a few,” Oyei says with a laugh, and the guy returns the smile.

Crossing his arms, Cher doesn’t interrupt, and neither of them have noticed him at the door. Is Oyei really that dense? Or is he actually flirting back?

“You could knock me down,” the guy says, eyes intent on Oyei, licking his lips.

Cher expects Oyei to laugh it off, like he does with the women, as if it’s a joke. But he smiles instead and maneuvers the guy around to the weight bench with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Not once we build you up a little.”

Something unfamiliar and hot drops into Cher’s stomach as he watches the guy grab a few weights that are obviously too heavy for him and Oyei has to gently pry them from his fingers and move behind him to support his elbows as he shows him the proper form.

As Cher watches Oyei’s fingers brushing over the guy’s skin, he can’t help frowning. He knows that exact move because he did it first. He did every thing this guy is doing—from the shorts that are way too short to pretending to need help with easy tasks. And Oyei had helped him because that is the kind of coach he is. It had taken Oyei so long to understand what Cher was trying to do, even with the obvious hints, but once he had figured it out, there’d been no stopping him.

Cher had enjoyed that part of their relationship, but he wonders as he watches Oyei with the new guy if it could happen again with someone else. What would happen if Oyei figured it out?

Cher doesn’t like the coiling in his chest, jealousy and anger fighting for dominance as the guy laughs brightly at something Oyei says and Oyei smiles.

He can’t stay there and watch this happen, Cher decides, turning sharply from the door. He needs to not think about Oyei spending all his time with some shameless client who is practically in his lap for a simple weight session. He can’t think about it or he’ll lose that calm demeanor that everyone expects from him.

Instead, he leaves Oyei with his fanboy and heads for the office where he can tell anyone who asks that he’s working on the books and try not to let this feeling take him over every time he pictures the guy’s hand on Oyei’s chest.

*

Cher can’t get it out of his head—not just the guy’s hands on Oyei, but the way he smiled at him, the body language that begged for Oyei to fuck him.

Even as he lays in bed, wrapped up in one of Oyei’s coaching tanks, he can’t stop.

Cher has felt like this before, with other partners, and he’s let it get out of hand before too. For some reason, he’d thought it would be different with Oyei—everything else has been over the years—but that doesn’t stop the annoying clench of jealousy when he thinks of that guy.

“You’re in bed early.”

Cher barely glances up at Oyei entering the room. He’s freshly-showered—Cher can smell the body wash as Oyei slides onto the bed behind him. Normally, he would roll over into Oyei’s beckoning arms and curl into his chest, but tonight, he stays with his back to Oyei, breathing in the scent of his shirt to calm himself.

The mattress jostles as Oyei pulls up the covers, seemingly oblivious to what’s going through Cher’s head. He isn’t surprised when Oyei’s hand snakes around his waist and he scoots in behind him. It feels like every other night except that Cher can’t enjoy it because he’s thinking of Oyei in bed with someone else. Someone else who wears tiny shorts and uses all the same tricks Cher has to get a guy.

Oyei’s breath is warm on the back of his neck, soft and slow, but Cher doesn’t relax. Instead, he reaches for Oyei’s hand heavy on his waist and pushes it away.

“Cher?” Oyei asks the second it happens, and it’s to his credit that he’s become much more adept at noticing when things are off (not that Cher appreciates it at this particular moment). “Is it too hot? I can turn up the AC.”

“No,” Cher just says, which isn’t really an answer, and he feels Oyei pause.

“Are you okay? You didn’t say much during dinner.”

Cher didn’t have much to say. And he doesn’t now either even with Oyei pushing himself up on his elbow so he can gaze down at him on the bed.

“I’m fine,” he lies, but they’ve been together long enough that Oyei has to see right through it.

Early on in their relationship, Oyei might have let him get away with it. After all, Oyei’s family had always been the fight it out type instead of the talk it out type. But Oyei can’t beat a confession out of Cher, so he usually opts for holding him hostage until he spills.

“Cher,” Oyei says again, and his tone is the one that makes Cher’s chest tighten and reminds him that Oyei is the older one in this relationship, and as mature as Cher tries to be, he can still fall into the petty traps of youth.

Rolling over onto his back, Cher gazes up at Oyei. It reminds him of the first time he saw Oyei. He’d been lying on the ground just like this, bruised and beaten, clutching his stomach, when a pair of strong hands rolled him over and he’d caught sight of the concerned furrow in Oyei’s brow, those big soft eyes rounded with worry, much like they are right now.

“Do you remember our first training session?” he asks after a minute, and Oyei seems confused by the question.

“Of course,” Oyei says, reaching up and stroking Cher’s hair. “You wore those pink striped shorts and those adorable little sweat bands on your wrists.”

“I only wore them so you could take them off,” Cher admits and Oyei smiles in return. “And I only signed up for lessons because I wanted to spend time with you.”

Oyei’s eyes are soft as he gazes down at Cher, and it makes Cher feel bad for being jealous, but he keeps thinking about the guy and his stupid come-ons and how Oyei had taken the compliments so easily.

“I know,” Oyei says, brushing his hair from his forehead, a gentle touch that should calm Cher, but his heart is beating fast in his chest as he pauses.

“How long did it take you? To figure out I was hitting on you?”

Oyei paused, biting his lip. “I’d say the day you not-so-accidentally dropped your towel in the locker room was a pretty big hint.”

That had been months into their acquaintanceship, after Cher had tried all his other tricks, even tried blatantly asking Oyei out on dates which he had happily participated in but continued to call “lunch with a friend.”

“You didn’t know before then?”

For a second, Oyei doesn’t say anything, and Cher hopes against hope that Oyei had figured it out. There had been so many ‘accidental’ touches, so many times Cher had dropped a compliment or innuendo, so many times Cher had caught his gaze and thought maybe he knew already and was just holding back.

At length, Oyei sighs, dropping back onto the bed and positioning Cher’s head on his bicep. “I didn’t know I could feel that way about a guy,” he says. “And I’d never really felt that way about a woman either. I just kept telling myself that it was just how you were.”

Cher sighs, looking away from Oyei. He couldn’t really blame Oyei then. He’d been confused and had to figure things out when Cher had come along. But he shouldn’t have to now. Now, he knows he likes guys. He knows what flirting is. So why had he let his new student hang all over him?

“Why are we talking about this?” Oyei asks finally, nuzzling into Cher’s cheek as if there’s no point in bringing up the past when the present is so good.

Opening his mouth, Cher stops himself. Oyei will just think he’s being stupid if he admits he’s jealous over a client. But it’s not just any client. It’s a client that reminds Cher so much of himself that he wonders if Oyei would even notice the not-so-subtle flirting that might eventually lead to more like it did with them.

He pauses too long, though, and Oyei isn’t as oblivious as he once was, especially when it comes to Cher.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Oyei asks, tightening his grip over Cher’s shoulders as if he’s not going to let go until Cher admits whatever he’s thinking.

Annoyed, Cher tries to shrug out of his grip but he can’t. He can’t go anywhere and escape this conversation.

“How was your training session with the new guy?” he asks instead, and Oyei frowns.

“Sun? He needs a lot of work, but he seems enthusiastic.”

Enthusiastic. Cher scoffs quietly. That’s one word for it.

“You needed a lot of training too, remember?” Oyei says when Cher huffs. “But look at you now.”

Cher purses his lips together, staring at Oyei’s bare chest before him. “So he reminds you of me?”

Oyei shrugs. “A little. Why?”

“Because he’s obviously flirting with you,” Cher says, unable to stop himself, and he catches the surprise on Oyei’s face as he begins to work it out.

“Most of my clients try to flirt,” Oyei reminds him, as if Cher isn’t aware. “Aren’t you the one who sells me to them?”

Of course Oyei would throw that back in his face, Cher thinks, annoyed when Oyei just stares at him innocently. How can he be so obtuse?

“Most of your clients aren’t sexy little twinks that you let put their hands all over you.”

Cher doesn’t like how Oyei’s face changes when he says it, as though he realizes exactly what this is about, as though there is no need for Cher to feel this way. There may not be a need but he still feels it.

Oyei lets out a breath, drawing a hand up to Cher’s cheek and holding his gaze steady. “You’ve never been jealous before. What’s different about this guy?”

The hot hungry pit in Cher’s stomach seems to melt away, leaving it empty instead as he tries to come up with the words to explain it. He knows jealousy isn’t rational and that he has no reason to suspect Oyei would cheat. But he could fall for a careful seduction, a slow burn the way they’d started out. Subtle and careful and in the middle before they’d begun. He doesn’t want that to happen.

“He’s like me,” Cher admits finally, knowing Oyei won’t understand. “He does everything I did, and you fell for that.”

He doesn’t expect Oyei to exhale, to smile slightly in the face of Cher’s crisis, tilting his chin up.

“I fell for you,” Oyei says simply. “The sweet, persistent, sassy guy who’s always supported me and this gym, who lets me take care of him even though he can take care of himself, who tells me when I’m being stupid, and who I could not live without.”

Oyei’s thumb grazes over Cher’s cheek as he says it, and Cher feels tears welling behind his eyes. Not because he’s upset but because he loves Oyei so much. He pretends he doesn’t need the reassurance, acts annoyed when Oyei gets handsy in front of the guys, but he wants it now as he scoots closer to Oyei and curls into his chest. He feels Oyei’s lips against his cheek, strong fingers on the back of his neck, and his heart crumples.

“I can switch him with another trainer,” Oyei offers, the words murmured into Cher’s shoulder as Cher clings to his back.

“No, you can’t,” Cher says, reluctant, but he sighs into Oyei’s chest. “Just don’t flirt back.”

He hears Oyei’s gentle laugh, feels how he hugs him tighter and presses a kiss to his neck. “I won’t.”

Breathing out, Cher relaxes finally, safe in Oyei’s arms. He knows Oyei will keep his word, and if Sun tries anything, Cher was trained at this very same gym, so he’d better watch out.

*

FIN.