#I feel like this one isn’t as good as the others but oh well

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

#nobu.writes #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub!hsr #sub!honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #sub jing yuan #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut #sub dan heng #blade x reader #blade smut #sub blade #sub!character #sub character #afab character #afab!character #dom reader #dom!reader #x dom reader

[joeybsversion]

Trouble

Joe Burrow x Reader

Your friends and family aren’t fond of Joe

“Seriously, he’s trouble. I can’t believe you’re going out with him.” Your friend scoffed, turning off the end of the Bengals game.

“He’s not trouble!” You defend him. “Really, he’s a nice guy!”

“Oh really? Is that why you’ve refused to tell your parents you’re dating him?”

“They’re just not big Bengal fans. It has nothing to do with Joe.” You lied as your friend rolled her eyes.

You had been secretly dating Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals Quarterback for 7 months now. It’s true, most people weren’t fond of Joe. He comes across as cocky, rude, and privileged. Plus his current bad boy edit doesn’t help much. Joe had recently gotten himself into trouble. He’s found a love for partying, blowing his money, and being reckless. All causing excess fame and a negative spotlight, something you wanted to avoid.

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he got suspended from games for legal trouble? Or has shown up to practice violently hungover?”

“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned.

She laughed, “It’s all over the news. He’s gonna get himself into some real trouble and not have a career here soon.”

“He’s working on turning things around. Really. I swear.” You do your best to defend him again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. “Plus we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. I’m just having fun.”

“I know, and I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But I know none of that is going to change your mind, so go have fun tonight.”

“I love you. If my mom asks, I’m here!” You remind her and head out the door, “Your pizza should be here soon and I logged into my Netflix account!” You figured if your friend has to spend the night posted up in her room to cover for you, you might as well take care of her.

You hopped into your car and headed over to Joes house, he was throwing a party after the game. Joe’s parties were always fun, usually a little wild, and typically ended with the police kicking people out and shutting things down. As much as Joe was trying to work past his bad boy edit, he couldn’t help it. He’s young and having fun.

The loud music from Joe’s house is rattling your car as you pull into his driveway. He’s outside on the porch with some teammates smoking a cigar.

As you walk through his thick cloud of smoke and clear the air in front of your face with your hand, Joe pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my baby.” His words slurred, you’re unsure if it’s from alcohol or the thick cigar pressed between his lips.

“Hi, Joey.” You wrap your arms around his waste and snuggle into his chest. “Good game, congrats on the win.”

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, “I want you to come to the next one.” He smiles.

“Me? At the game? Isn’t it in a different state?” You question, suddenly nervous. You and Joe had been casually dating, nothing was public yet.

“The next home game.” He laughs, blowing a thick cloud of smoke over your head. “2 weeks.”

“I’ll think about it.” You try and reassure him.

“Think about it?” He asks offended.

“Well, yeah..I don’t… I’m not sure…” you feel his arms drop from around you. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go public yet.” You nervously tell him.

“It’s a football game. Not a red carpet.” He says annoyed.

“I know but…”

He cuts you off “It’s fine. Don’t come.”

“Joe I want to!” You reassure him.

“Seems like it.” He scoffs before heading inside, you following close behind.

“Joe I do! Really, there’s nothing I’d love more! I just still haven’t told many people about us, and you know, you haven’t had the best press lately and I don’t want to mess that up anymore for you and I just worry that-“

He presses the cigar to your mouth “take this.” He laughs cutting you off. “I’m sorry about the press. I’m working on it. Tomorrow I have a fun event at the elementary school. Next week, the high school. And the whole team is volunteering at the blood drive. Nothing but positive press up until the game.”

“Wow, what’s next? Taking a shift at the old folks home? Serving in the soup kitchen?” You tease.

He rolls his eyes, “So are you coming to the game or not?”

“I guess you better find me a Burrow jersey, because I’ll be there.” You smile.

The rest of the night is a blur. Lots of drinks, lots of dancing, too many sweaty bodies, and even louder music. You wake up the next morning tangled up in bed with Joe. His heavy arm around your waste and soft breathing on the backside of your neck. You slowly loosen his grip and start to make your way out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He grumbles, barely audible.

“Home.” You slip your shoes on. “And you need to get up too. Your elementary school meet and greet starts in 45 minutes.” You sit down on the side of the bed again. “I don’t think the elementary school principal appreciates his guest of honor showing up smelling like a mini bar.”

“You’re probably right.” He slowly starts to sit up. “I’ll reserve some spots for you for the game.” He says. “Any request on where you want to sit?”

All the nerves come back. “Doesn’t matter.” You smile at him, wishing you could avoid the game all together. It’s not that you were ashamed to be with him, you were just anxious about what people, especially your parents will say. “I’m gonna get out of here.” You quickly excuse yourself, not sure if the sudden butterflies in your stomach are from drinking too much, or the next home game.

You call your best friend on your way and tell her all about the game.

“You’re gonna have to tell your parents.”

“I can’t! They will freak if they find out I’ve been dating him!”

“So are you going to keep your relationship a secret forever?”

“I don’t know I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well scratch that thought, it’s not a secret anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Check your phone.”

As you pull in your parents drive way, you pull out your phone to see a news article your friend sent you, a picture of you and Joe is on the front page. “Where did you find this?” You panicked.

“I was just checking E! News. It looks like every major magazine is covering it now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You sigh, “I have to tell them now. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later. I’ll probably need some support.”

“Good luck!” She says and ends the call.

“You’re WHAT?” You dad hollers, slamming down the news paper he was reading.

“Dad, he’s a nice guy. Really I -“

“No. The little romance you guys having going on is over. I can’t believe this. You’re such a good girl, why would you want to be with someone like him?”

“He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be. He’s actually really kind, and supportive, and is volunteering a lot for the community.”

“I don’t care if he’s the president. You are not being seen with someone like him.”

“About that..”

“What?”

“Well the news got pictures of me at his house last night and leaked a story.” You hide your face in your hands.

“At his house?” Your mom questions. “So you’ve been lying to us? Clearly he’s a bad influence to be hanging around.”

“I lied because I knew you would react like this. You’re not even giving him a chance.”

“I’ve never seen you defend someone like this. What is going on?”

“I’m…”

Your dad crosses his arms across his chest “I’m in love with him. And I’m going to be with him and support him no matter how you feel. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I’ve never seen you fight for someone like this.”

“Because, I love him.”

Your dad sighs, “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Why don’t you invite him over.”

“Really?!”

“Like I said,” he pauses, “I’m not crazy about him, but I can tell that you, and for that reason, I want to get to know him.”

A few hours later, Joe shows up on your front porch and confidently knocks on the front door.

“Hi Joey.” You greet him with a smile and hug. “You look great… did you iron your shirt?” You tease him, brushing a hand across his perfectly pressed shirt.

“Steamed it actually.” He smiles, “I wanted to make a good impression.” He nervously takes your hand and follows you into the house.

“Mom, Dad, this is Joe.” You awkwardly present him to your parents.

He politely shakes their hands and takes a seat at the table next to you.

You feel his hand find its way to your thigh, his palms are sweaty, and his fingers are nervously tapping across your leg. You reassuringly take his hand into yours and lightly rub across the top and share a confident smile.

At the end of dinner, you and Joe excuse yourselves and you walk him to the porch.

“They loved you.” You kiss him.

“I’m so relieved.”

“My dad even wants to go to the game with me!”

He laughs, “I’ll get extra tickets.”

Relieved that your parents were pleased with Joe, you walked him out, he kissed you goodnight, and you sent him on his way home.

It’s official and the world knows, you’re in love with Joe Burrow.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram #nfl fluff #nfl smut #nfledit #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 20

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Not long after you close yourself in your room you hear the front door close. The house is silent but not calm. While you want everything to just go back the way it was, being alone with your mom doesn’t promise you peace. She never takes it well when she doesn’t get her way. 

You have your table pulled up the bed, doodling random petals and stems, some connected and some not. The sunlight beams through the curtains and shines onto the paper as you scratch the graphite over it. You cup your chin as you bide your time, dreading the inevitable. You’ll have to face her again and you have a lot to atone for. 

The rustle of leaves is underlined by the darting whistle of some distant bird. Along the edge of your vision, you sense movement and peer over at the window, expecting a flutter of wings. Instead, you see a shadow looming in Steve’s window, just across the gap between your houses. You don’t recognise that man; it must be the friend he mentioned. 

You slide the table out and stand slowly, cautious as you try not to draw attention. The man has grey hair like Steve, he’s a little shorter by your measure, and built a bit broader. He turns to lean just beside the window and you carefully tug closed your curtain. You keep forgetting to do that although you can’t even remember opening it most times. 

The noise of your movement draws your name from the front room. You huff and face the door. It’s time. You emerge and go to find your mother on her recliner. She stares despondently at the ceiling. 

“Whatever you said to Steve...” she mutters. 

“I didn’t...” you can’t even finish the lie. You didn’t say anything but you also don’t know everything you did around Steve. 

“I don’t want to hear it. You reel it in,” she sits the chair up straight and winces at the jarring motion. “Whatever you’re up to, it stops now.” 

You look at the floor, “sorry, mom.” 

“Ugh, you’re useless, you know that? If you hadn’t been hanging around like some troll, he would’ve stayed,” she snarls. "If you weren't here, everything would be so much better."

“Mm, but I saw... his friend--” 

“Oh, shut up and go away,” she snaps and reclines again. “Tomorrow, he’s taking me out. Away from you. You can stay and clean up your mess.” 

You back away without another word. She’s only looking to argue. It will be good for her to get out. Somewhere that isn’t a hospital. And she’s right, this place could use another clean, and you could use the distraction. 

🏡

As promised, your mother leaves with Steve. That she’s ready to leave the house before noon is a feat on its own, not to mention how she woke up before you. Still, you made her coffee for her and reminded her about her medicine. Those parts went as usual. 

Alone, you feel lighter but not free. You sweep and mop and make sure all the dishes are done and away. You even make sure to use the old vacuum to clean up your mom’s recliners and the carpet in the front room. A spritz of freshener makes the air a little less stale. 

You finish around one and go back to your room. You take out your pencils and set to work on a new picture. No more amaryllis; you’ve moved on to morning glories. It’s so beautiful how they open with the sun.

You use your colour pencils, some of them so short you can’t even sharpen them, to give dimension the broad petals. You lose yourself in the task, fingertips a medley of hues as you switch between shades and blending stick. You have your forehead in your hand, your shoulders hunched, and your eyes laser focused.

It’s only your name that breaks your reverie. You blink and sit up, the ache setting into your knuckles as they have a moment to rest. You door is open. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve says, “we’re back.” 

“Oh,” is all you can utter. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he has a hand on his hip. You wonder if he’s been there a while. “Not to intrude but... could I get a peek?” 

You stare at him for a moment, confused. Then look down at the page. It’s mostly done, you guess. Doesn’t matter, really. There’s worse things to judge you about. 

You set down the pencil and lift the book. He breaks the threshold of your room and crosses to look closer. He carefully puts his hand next to yours, silently asking permission to take it. You hand it over and he raises it closer to squint at the lines. 

“This is beautiful,” he remarks, “you should think about my offer. We could go out and find some good scenery,” He suggests as he continues to examine your work, “and you shouldn’t be all bent over like that. You can always use my studio if you need--” 

“I’m fine,” you shrug. 

“For now, but one day that’s catch up to you. Trust me,” she offers the book back to you. “So... do you only draw flowers?” 

You close the book and pack away the pencils. 

“Mostly,” you answer. 

“Wow, to be honest, I always found them challenging. No two flowers are alike, right? Every rose has different petals, every tulip a different number of stamens,” he says. “So how was your day?” 

“Is my mom here?” You asks, ignoring his question. 

“Yeah, she’s all tired out. She’s relaxing. Still early though,” he checks his watch, “you wanna come over for a swim?” 

You’re flumoxed by the pace of his conversation. The constant pivoting has you off-balance. You’re wholly unready for any of it. Those hours alone have left you in an odd daze. 

“Thanks, but uh, I don’t have a suit,” you say. 

“You don’t?” He clucks, “well that’s too bad. You could just wear some shorts and tank or whatever. No one around to see.” 

“It’s okay,” you rebuff again. “I’m still pretty tired.” 

“Oh, of course, sweetie, maybe another time. Did you take another pill? I know they really get to you.” 

“Erm, no.” 

“You’re going to, right? You need to be consistent, you know? To see if it works.” 

“Right, I know,” you murmur guiltily. You’d forgotten all about the boxes in the cupboard. 

“Now, I’m only looking out for you. I mean, you take care of your mother, make sure she takes her meds, but what about you? Who’s looking after you, sweetheart?” 

You hug yourself and stand. You untangle your arms from around you and push the table back to the corner. He might mean well but you’re just embarrassed. No one does care about you and you’re okay with that. You have to be, you can’t change it. 

“It was rhetorical,” he says, “sweetie, I’m going to look after you. I promise.” He’s pauses as if waiting for an answer, “haven’t I?” 

“Hmm,” you turn to him and push out your lower lip. 

“Haven’t I taken care of you?” He asks. 

You nod, “yes. Thank you...” 

“You and your mom, right? That’s how it’s gonna be. The three of us.” 

What he’s saying, the way he’s saying it, it’s making you uneasy. You tuck your lip under your teeth and let it pop back out. He tilts his head as his eye flicker eerily. 

“Well, I’m going to stay the night to keep an eye on mom. She’s having a bad day. She did a lot so... I’ll get started on dinner and you take your medicine, okay?” 

Your heart pounds in your ribcage. There’s something about his tone. He’s not asking, he’s telling. You look at him in your doorway, noting how he fills the whole thing. Thinking of how you couldn’t get past him or move him, even if you had the courage to try. You reach over to steady yourself with the table. 

“Sure,” you agree softly. 

“You’re not busy tomorrow?” He wonders. 

You blink and shake your head, “n... no?” 

“Good, we have a surprise for you,” he grins. “Big one.” 

“Al--alright,” you resist as shiver. 

“You should dress up nice, too. Maybe that cute little dress you got,” he taps on the doorframe and takes a step back, “I like that one.” 

He winks and spins on his heel, leaving you in a queasy silence. A surprise? What could he possibly mean? 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #the girl next door #series #drabble #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[yuesya]

“So… who are you, really?”

“Gojo Shiki,” the girl who ended up coming out of Prison Realm instead of Gojo-sensei responds. She seems… oddly calm for someone who is surrounded by multiple sorcerers who are all in varying degrees of shock and disbelief towards her. But she doesn’t appear to be hostile even despite this, which is probably a good sign.

Yuta is still having trouble wrapping his head around this mind-boggling situation. If this was Gojo-sensei’s idea of a joke…

No. Sensei liked to play tricks on his students, sometimes, but he wouldn’t go as far as doing something like this, not when the stakes were so high and things were serious.

Still, there was a question that remained unanswered: If Gojo-sensei wasn’t the one sealed inside the Prison Realm, then… where was he?

And another question: Who was this girl that came out from the Prison Realm instead? Like Gojo-sensei, she has white hair and blue eyes, but–

“Are we sure that Gojo-sensei doesn’t have a little sister or something?” Itadori asks.

“As far as I’m aware,” Mei-san murmurs, “There isn’t someone called ‘Gojo Shiki’ who exists in the Gojo Clan at all.”

“… Eh?”

The ensuing conversation following that mildly alarming tidbit of information is convoluted and confusing, all the way up until it finally becomes clear that Gojo Shiki is from… some sort of weird alternate universe, apparently.

“You’re Nanami’s niece?”

The girl blinks placidly. “Does he not have one in this world?”

“We’d have to check the records,” Kusakabe-sensei frowns.

Another slow blink. “Why not just ask him directly?”

… Oh boy.

“He’s dead,” Yuta finally speaks up in the stilted silence that follows. Nanami Kento had been a strong Grade One, but more than his skill as a sorcerer –he was a good person. One who was well-respected and well-liked by others around him. “He was killed in action during the Shibuya Incident. The Special Grade cursed spirit responsible for it, Mahito, was subsumed by Kenjaku using Geto’s Cursed Spirit Manipulation.”

The girl’s expression doesn’t change at all upon hearing the words. But all the same, Yuta can feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck, and it’s a little terrifying.

“… I see.” A slight pause. Then, “Who else is dead?”

“Tsukumo Yuki was killed by Kenjaku in combat.” It had been a nasty blow, the loss of yet another Special Grade sorcerer on their side. No pressure, Okkotsu. “Most of the Zenin Clan’s sorcerers are gone, too, but that’s, um–”

“I’d do it all over again,” Maki says harshly from the side, glaring. Yuta raises his hands in a clear gesture of surrender. He wasn’t criticizing!

“… We need to figure out what we’re going to do about this situation,” Kusakabe-sensei lets out a long breath. “Without Gojo Satoru… just Kenjaku is enough to give us all a headache already. And we also have Ryomen Sukuna to worry about, now that he’s taken over Fushiguro Megumi’s body, too–”

“Ryomen Sukuna is using Megumi as his vessel?”

… Yikes. Looks like there’s still a lot of things that they need to explain about the chaotic mess going on.

#writing #zenith of stars au #box swap au #special thank you to ko-fi friends! #winner of last month's wip poll

[somnambulic-thing]

Hi Sweetheart

Eddie Munson x gn!reader E 18+ || ao3

1.8k

This is a follow-up to Smoke and Cherry Pop Rocks taking place exactly one year after their first night together.

There is a 400ish word blurb preceding this that isn’t totally necessary to read, but will give a little more context and make this pull on your insides a little more.

CW ||demi!bi!Eddie, Roadie!Eddie, letter format: Eddie pov, angst, intense heartache, regrets, grief, mentions of sex with other people (no cheating), self-exploration, painful introspection, growing pains||

Hi Sweetheart

Do you know what day it is? Do you remember?

I’m watching the sun’s descent while having a smoke and I remember everything. 

It’s been a year now, one full fucking year, and the memories of you still haunt me I remember every little thing from the moment you walked out of the sinking sun like straight out of my daydreams.

It felt like the ground was shaking beneath me but I think it was just my heart dropping through my ass at the sight of you.

I never told you that I had been thinking about you that very moment, asking myself what the fuck I did wrong to make you say goodbye to me like that. With so much determination.

And I am not just talking graduation day, oooh no, I’m talking all the fucking time. Every time we hung out after I fixed your bike, when you left, you left me with something that felt like a small break-up. Like the end of something that never had a chance to really be something.

And I just couldn’t figure out why. Nothing made sense and the idea of asking scared the shit out of me because you never gave me the feeling of not being good enough and I was afraid to be proven wrong about that.    

So I was lying there on the deck in a nice warm pool of self-pity, rewinding the moment you vanished from my sight for the last time but in my mind, I pressed stop right before you could get away. And through the power of my imagination, you spun around and came back to me but before daydream-Eddie could say anything to daydream-you, real-you appeared out of fucking nowhere.

Felt a little like fate, if I’m totally honest.

And you know what? Instead of rejoicing with delight that I somehow managed to conjure you up out of dry, dusty air, I was terrified. Because I had enough of your goodbyes, all I thought I could take. Because in my mind, there was no scenario that wouldn’t end with me, alone in bed with a rock for a stomach after you left again.

Wondering why you just didn’t fucking want me when I was so sure we had something between us. (and oh wasn’t I right about that?)

Fuck.

And then you ramble and ramble, confusing the shit out of me before you ask me for a kiss?

Fuuuuck.

So yeah, I remember all of it. Remember the look on your face after that first kiss, so sweet and hot and in awe from k i s s i n g ME. I could feel my heart crawl up my throat with the intent of crawling down yours, using that moment to vanish between your pretty parted lips so that you had no way of walking away from me again. I remember feeling so high.

Fuck.

This sunset looks the same as ours, by the way. Just another cosmic cruelty. 

Because now, when I watch a sunset like this, I either get sad or hard. Right now, there’s a bit of both going on. Who am I kidding? Why hold back? It’s not like I’m actually going to send this letter. It’s another one for ‘the box’. I’m so fucking sad right now, sweetheart. Heartbroken, actually.

Because you won’t leave my mind. Your fingertips won’t leave my skin. I try to remember your voice all the time so it won’t fade from my memory the way your smell has left me. Replay the way you say my name when I make you laugh or cry or moan.

I called a girl by your name last month. Was sure she was going to slap me but the pity in her eyes when she put her clothes back on did the trick just as well.

I don’t think I’m particularly made for that one-night stand business. Am more of a ‘books, drugs and rock'n'roll’ guy. My crew says, it’s because I am still sulking about you, because I am idolizing you, turning you into a goddess and maybe they are right, I don’t fucking know, never been so in love before, have I?

But it doesn’t feel like they are right. 

I can’t describe it, really. It’s not like it’s bad or disgusting or whatever (the sex, I mean, in case that wasn’t clear) it just feels. Not right.

Yeah yeah I am so not sending this one, so I might as well…

Felix suggested (I told you about Felix on the phone, remember? We started the roadie adventure at the same time. He's hilarious.) I might swing the other way. He also offered himself to test that theory a few weeks ago and he’s cute and a good guy, so turns out I might swing both ways and it was kinda nice, no it was nice, but it still didn’t feel right.

So Felix suggested to stop thinking about it for a while and clear my head.

As this document and all the others recently tucked away in ‘the box’ can testify, it’s not going too well.

I hate thinking about you with other people and I hate thinking that there’s a possibility that you’re as miserable about this as I am but I also can’t stand the thought that you’re not thinking about me anymore. That you don’t miss me.

Can still hear you cry through the shitty sticky plastic receiver of that gas station pay phone and I hate that the last time I heard your voice it sounded so hollow and so small. Like I was calling you from Saturn and fuck me if it didn’t feel that way too.

And that is the whole gigantic fucking problem, isn’t it? That I’m not ready to come back to earth. That I love being on a new planet every other day with all those strange fucking aliens where I belong more than I ever did in the town I grew up in. I’m not reliable right now and no matter how much you told me it was okay that I called two days late or whatever it was I had to disappoint you with. It wasn’t. Wasn’t okay at all.

I’m glad you admitted as much when I called you to say goodbye.

It’s been seven months, one week and five days since that day. But it feels like forever. Remember I told you one day on the road can feel like three?

So much has happened in that year, so many new loud, bright, wild memories and still… You haven’t faded yet against any of them. I am blessed and cursed with the most vivid visions of you, just have to close my eyes to see you climbing on top of me, naked and sweaty and glorious. I just wish I could feel your palms on my chest pushing me back into the mattress. Your nails leaving little marks and

Fucking stop it, Eddie!!! Gonna end up crying with a boner…

Don’t want you to think it’s just about the fucking. It’s not. It’s just… with the date and all.

Fuck. We could have celebrated one year today.

I am playing with the thought of calling you, to ask you to try this long-distance thing (this constantly shifting distance thing) again. I almost called you before I picked up the pen. Am still thinking about calling you. Maybe after I am done getting all the fucking whining out of my system. I hope that’ll be soon, my hand is already cramping.

But it’s been months. More than half a year. I can’t just fucking call you like that, can I?

Wayne told me your mom told him you’ve been seeing someone.

He didn’t tell me more, despite me begging, despite knowing that I knew he knew more because I know that man and can tell when he’s trying to protect me.

What kind of a fucking asshole does it make me that I want to call you anyway? More, even?

That kind of asshole that found solace in the vision of knocking on your door one day, when I’m done with the circus, setting sun in my back and that stupid smile on my face you find so irresistible for reasons I can not comprehend.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

I just want to talk to you, wanna know how you are, what you're up to and

fuck I miss you.

I miss you and you're seeing someone and my chest aches like my heart did crawl down your throat a year ago and now has to watch you fuck a stranger being with someone else and I fucking did this to myself. And to you. To us.

And I want to take it back. I want you back. I want the privilege to call you at weird fucking times to have access to your thoughts again and tell you mine because there is so much left to say and make plans and make you horny and 

I want to know

I thought of taking time off. Pulling a: I was in town and thought we could catch up. But I bet you'd know the truth as soon as the lie leaves my mouth. I’d like to think I could play it cool when seeing you again, you know, but the way I feel right now, it would be a miracle if I could suppress the urge to just launch myself at you.

I want to know if the guy you're seeing treats you right and feed him to a Fell Beast if he doesn't. Piece by agonizing piece.

How long has this been going on? Long enough to push out memories of me? Or were those already faded when you met him? Do you compare him to me sometimes and am I doing good?

You know, there are whole days where I don’t think about you. I had a full month where I was sure I was getting over it, when we transitioned between bands and I had to get used to a different drill, different equipment, new people and all that every-day-roadie-shit.

Some days I want to smack my head to get you out of there. Smack it real hard to make sure that nothing stays behind so that you can’t slowly grow back into the cracks of my mind like weeds until I can’t see where I’m going.

I really only had you for two weeks and I am acting like we were married for two decades.

But what an outlook…

Sweetheart, is there a word for grieving things I never had?

The sun is gone now, by the way. I think I should leave my hiding spot and go back to my crew before they send a search party.

I bet you’d like the guys.

If I still want to call you tomorrow, I will.

general taglist:

@bettyfrommars @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @potthealien2423 @raccoonboywrites

@jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie

@chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @aphroditesbaby1616

@fracturedarkness @allthingsjoeq

interested people tags:

@howdidyouallgetinmyroom @tlclick73

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Epilogue)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Awkwardly translated smut ahead. Nsfw, mdni

Roger: Geez… I’ll need to discipline you on not feeling something whenever someone touches you.

Kate: Huh? Kyaa.

Roger turned me away from him and placed a hand on my butt.

Roger: This is your punishment, Kate. No matter what I do, you’re not allowed to take pleasure from it.

(This position…)

Kate: Please don’t, this is humiliating…

Roger: Not gonna listen to some weak protests.

He had a firm grip around my waist and even if I flailed my legs, I wouldn’t be able to break out of his hold.

It was like being locked in a cage.

Roger pulled down my underwear and smacked by exposed butt with the palm of his hand.

Kate: Ahh.

(He’s slapping it gently…)

I’m overcome with embarrassment and my face heats up.

Roger: …Again

*smack* *smack* The more his large hand smacked against my skin, the more embarrassed I became.

(This is so embarrassing. And yet…)

I felt myself growing hot between my legs at this naughty situation.

Roger: Why’re you rubbing your legs together?

Kate: N-no reason…

Roger: Oh of course. There’s no way getting spanked feels good, does it? But if that’s the case, why are these getting harder?

Kate: Ah…

Roger’s nails teased at my exposed nipples.

Roger: Since I’m disciplining you, I won’t be as nice.

Sweet stimulation attacked my body as fingers pinched the sensitive tips.

Kate: Hyaaa…

As Roger played with my nipples with one hand, the other went between my legs.

Roger: Ah~ Look. You’re so wet down here.

I looked away when he showed his fingers coated with my arousal.

Roger: Will you get like this with anyone?

Kate: No! I get like this…because of you, Roger. You’re an egoist who always does stuff like this. Despite that…

Roger: …?

Kate: Despite that, you’re…special…Mmnn…

He grabbed my chin and kissed me roughly over and over again, leaving no chance to breathe.

When our lips parted, Roger brushed my bangs.

Roger: Why are you so cute?

Kate: Huh? Ah…

Roger raised my butt up so that it stuck out and plunged his thick fingers inside my core.

Kate: Ahn…

Roger: It’s not over yet. You’re gonna say something naive like you really like me again, aren’t you?.

Kate: Aahh…ahhh

You could hear the wet sounds as his fingers pumped in and out.

He continued pinching my nipples and the shuddering stimulation took over my body.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Cum, Kate.

Roger patted my head as my body trembled.

Roger: I’m the only one you can rely on, and the only one who can do stuff like this to you. Don’t wag your tail for anyone else but me, Kate.

--

—The next day, my body was complaining.

Roger: What’s up with that posture?

Kate: I’m sore…

Roger: Hahaha. Well isn’t that just sad? Hmm, what to do, what to do…

Kate: Please don’t touch me!

Even a mere touch would make me want to pass out from pain.

Roger: So, why are you dragging yourself around like that?

Kate: Um, I heard something from WIlliam. About how you’re the one who negotiated for Emilia Winslow to be appointed as a secretary for parliament?

Roger: We’re still a long way from women having the right to vote, but it’s at least a stepping stone.

Kate: Thank you Roger!

Roger: Don’t wag your tail so happily, Kate.

Kate: Huh…By chance…

Roger: Probably.

Kate: You’re going to do stuff to me again!?

Roger: Yeah, it’s great isn’t it? You got another excuse for me to take care of you.

(This man…)

It’s annoying, but I couldn’t help but smile in the end.

I’m sure I’ll continue to wish I was strong.

Even so, with someone supporting me, I’ll probably be stronger than I was yesterday. 

Roger: Ah, that’s right. Meet me at 19:00 tonight at the entrance. 

Kate: For a mission? I thought Harrison and Liam were going out today.

Roger: We’re splitting a special reward. Let’s go for a drink.

Kate: But that’s yours…

Roger: We resolved it together, didn’t we? If you don’t wanna, then I guess I’ll have to ask Jude or Al.

Kate: I’ll go! Ah, because…I want to drink beer.

Roger: Hmm?

Roger poked my side with a smirk.

Kate: O-ow!

Roger: Hahaha. Dummy.

Roger laughed with a carefree expression as he watched me writhe in pain.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for ducksandswans behind the cut; Jason gets knocked up and accidentally goes home about it. ( chrono || non-chrono )

Jason tightens his grip on Pup Brother and Quiet Sister tightens her grip on him. He can smell the whole pack's scents–smell the whole pack's packscent–and he feels . . . good about that. He likes that. 

He missed them. He shouldn't have stayed gone so long. Though now there's a pup, and maybe even more than one, so he supposes it was worth it. 

And either way, he's home now. 

Grandpa said. 

“ETA on B?” Big Brother asks. 

“Eighteen minutes, if they avoided the downtown traffic,” Big Brother’s mate says. Jason hums acknowledgment, then lets himself relax just a little more. More than he even thought he could, really. 

It's nice. 

It's really nice. 

And they're all safe, too. 

“Holy crap, is he purring?” New Brother mutters under his breath. 

“He is definitely purring,” Loud Sister confirms. “Like a big grumpy motorcycle.” 

“Pretty sure I've heard quieter motorcycles,” Big Brother's mate says wryly. “It's pretty cute, though.” 

“It is so cute, oh my god,” Big Brother says in despairing delight. “This is bad enough, how are we gonna handle him being like this with an actual baby?” 

“I think that's mostly a ‘you’ problem, Dick,” Little Brother says. 

“That is definitely a ‘you’ problem,” Loud Sister agrees. 

“For sure,” New Brother says. 

“Very cute,” Quiet Sister hums, nuzzling the back of Jason’s neck and patting his shoulder. “Baby brother.” 

“Thank you, Cass,” Big Brother says with a huff, folding his arms. “This is so adorable I can’t even stand it.” 

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes, then just settles in and closes his eyes. It’s safe to. And he has a nest to let his scent seep into and through, and “bred” pheromones to let settle into and fill up the den. He’s early enough in his pregnancy that it’ll probably take a little while, so it’s past time to concentrate on putting those off and scenting the room. The nest’s all made, and Pup Brother and Quiet Sister are in it, and Grandpa’s by the door and Big Brother and Little Brother are just outside the nest, and Loud Sister and New Brother and Big Brother’s mate are all here too, so . . . 

So once Alpha’s here, then everything will be perfect. 

“He’s purring again,” New Brother mutters. “I literally did not even know he was physically capable of making that sound.” 

“Capable of making it to motorcycle-shaming levels, apparently,” Loud Sister says with a laugh. “Damn, Jason.” 

Jason doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he isn’t worried about it. If it’s important, someone will take care of it. 

Everyone’s here, so of course someone will. 

“Silence, all of you,” Pup Brother grumbles, sounding long-suffering but staying settled secure in Jason’s arms, which is good. Definitely. He should be there right now. 

Jason nuzzles him some more, for obvious reasons, and then just concentrates on letting his pheromones spread through the room. His nest already smells like the pack and so does the den, obviously, but it doesn’t smell like pup-is-coming.

It needs to, obviously. 

Someone’s purring. It’s not Pup Brother, but Jason’s not sure who else could be. 

Well, it doesn’t matter, really. 

Some of the others talk about some things, their voices soft and quiet. Jason doesn’t worry about it. It’s just little stuff, like patrol schedules and classes and appointments. Normal little things for a pack to talk about, and easy to settle into the background as white noise while he lets his pheromones fill up the room and makes sure Pup Brother’s eaten. 

He eats some of the apple slices and peanut butter, himself. The pup needs to eat too. 

It’s the same cheap, shitty store brand that he used to insist on as a pup himself. 

“ETA five minutes,” Big Brother’s mate says eventually after checking her phone. Jason’s not sure what she’s talking about, but isn’t worried about that either. If it’s important, someone will tell him. Or handle it. Or both. 

All he has to do right now is wait for Alpha to get here, and then everything will be fine. 

Everything will be perfect, actually, once Alpha gets here. 

The others talk a little more. Their voices are still soft and quiet, so Jason still doesn’t worry about it. He just stays curled up around Pup Brother and in Quiet Sister’s arms, and letting his pheromones fill up the den with bred and home-safe and all the usual things that are usually part of presenting a pup to the pack. 

It’s nice. The . . . being here. It’s nice. 

He missed it here. 

He wonders why he missed it so bad. Has it been that long, or . . . ? 

He just missed it. 

But now he’s here, so he doesn’t have to miss it anymore. 

Grandpa turns his head towards the door and pushes himself up out of his chair. Jason whines in disappointment. Is he leaving? Why’s he leaving? 

“I’ll just be a moment, my boy,” Grandpa assures him, and Jason settles, a little. If Grandpa says it’ll be just a moment, then he means it. 

Grandpa steps out into the foyer again and everyone else goes quiet all at once, and Jason realizes–oh. The front door just opened, didn’t it. He doesn’t hear footsteps, though. 

. . . does that mean . . . ? 

“Alfred?” Alpha says from the foyer, sounding just barely concerned, and something in Jason vibrates at the sound of his voice. “What’s going on?” 

“Is someone purring?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously. 

“Master Jason came home, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. 

“. . . he what?” Alpha says, his voice sounding–strange, just a bit. Jason isn’t sure why it does, but feels . . . 

“Just–the living room, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. “You should come and see for yourself.” 

Grandpa steps back into view of the doorway, and Jason still feels unsettled and just a little bit uncertain, and isn’t sure if–

Then Alpha steps into view too, and Jason forgets everything else

#ducksandswans #wip: jason goes home #omegaverse

[copper-16]

Hothead

Jule gets injured, and Lena tries to deal with her worry on top of the fact that she's still trying to keep it a secret that she's hopelessly in love with her best friend.

Luckily for her? Someone happens to feel the exact same way.

(a/n: Someone asked me MONTHS ago to write this...and well I'm like 6 months late but better late than never I suppose! Also I started writing this when Feli was still at Wolfsburg so she's still at Wolfsburg for the sake of I was too lazy to change what I had already written, take it or leave it.

I love getting to write Obi...so much. Like SO much! So much that I actually didn't edit this at all I just scrolled over it really fast and said MEH it's probably good to post (so sorry if there are mistakes). Also this is cross posted from ao3 because I'm pretty sure the request was sent on here, if I remember correctly. But anywho, enjoy!)

It was a dirty foul. 

It was a really dirty foul, in fact, and pretty much all of the Wolfsburg girls are ready to throw hands when they see what has occurred. 

Jule had been taking the ball up the right side of the pitch after Obi had sent her a lovely little long ball, when the Werder Bremen defender had gone right for her ankle instead of the ball. It was a crunching tackle, a dangerous and thoughtless one from the Werder player, and it sent the blonde winger tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain. 

It was late in the game, they were up by one goal anyways, but as soon as Jule was hitting the ground, all hell broke loose. The Wolfsburg players were immediately going for the Werder defender who dared to hurt their golden girl, none leading the charge more than Lena. 

The brunette was halfway across the field from Jule when she went down, but suddenly Lena was right next to Jule as she pressed her face into the grass, her ankle ringing with pain. 

“Jule? Are you okay, should I get the medic?” Lena asks softly, her face close to Jule’s. The blonde can smell the patchouli and ylang-ylang of her perfume, and the way that Obi tugs her kit down from where it had ridden up before she placed her hand gently on the wingers back. 

Jule hated the medic. She hated going down, didn’t want to hog attention away from the others, stop play, or force a substitution to be made unless it was absolutely necessary. 

But the pain in her ankle isn’t subsiding in the way it should be, and she knows that she won’t be able to walk it off like she normally should. The blonde screwed her eyes shut in frustration as she nodded, moving to turn over on her side and eventually back as Lena began to flag down the team medic. 

Which of course, happened to be the exact same time that the Werder defender decided to open her mouth, her words callous and unkind. 

“Oh Jesus, why is she being such a baby? She’s fine, I hardly touched her,” the defender scoffed, and here’s the thing. 

Lena knew that she had a reputation for how easily she found herself in the middle of a fight. It was a fair one, she knew that. The midfielder was the one most likely in her team to be found arguing with the referee, or to get into some sort of a brawl with another player, or something of the sort. 

But her hot headedness in general paled in comparison to any sort of reaction that she had when it involved her blonde teammate. 

It was a known fact at Wolfsburg that Lena and Jule just had an inexplicably close relationship. Ever since the winger had joined the German side, her and the midfielder had been completely inseparable. 

For the older women in the team, the writing is on the wall, clear as day. But Jule is rather oblivious to the fact that her best friend is hopelessly in love with her. She would never imagine that Lena would actually reciprocate what she told herself was a silly little crush. 

But it wasn’t just that, for either side. 

Jule was gentle, maybe not always on the pitch but she was known for being incredibly sweet. Lena wasn’t exactly known for her saccharine like personality, but her and Jule just always seemed to work together. The midfielder was fiercely protective of the younger girl, whether that be batting away creepy men at clubs or making sure that she had eaten that day. It was the fact that they were complete opposites that seemed to make them work so well together, totally balancing one another out. Jule had this uncanny ability to calm Lena down, no matter what was occurring, whether it be in a game or when they are getting too competitive playing a board game with teammates. And in kind, Lena makes sure that Jule isn’t stepped on or bothered by anyone around her. 

So for someone to say something like, something that is so blatantly rude and careless, all of the Wolfsburg girls were immediately turning to Lena, knowing what was about to happen. 

“Oh you absolute BITCH–” Lena started as she turned toward the woman in a second, and she would have slammed right into her if it wasn’t for Feli, who wrapped her arms around the brunette at the last second and pulled her away. 

“Not helping right now Miss Hothead,” Feli grunted out as she hauled Lena back with everything in her, the midfielder still practically snarling at the woman as she strained against her teammate heavily. 

“Lena?” 

The brunette turns on a dime at the sound of her name being called softly by the winger, and Feli nearly falls over at how quickly the midfielder moves away from her, completely abandoning her course of action in favor of turning toward Jule. It wasn’t very often that Jule used her real name as opposed to calling her Obi like the other girls, but when she did, the brown eyed girl knew to pay attention. 

The blonde didn’t actually need the midfielder, but she knew that Lena was on the cusp of a yellow card, and the last thing she wanted to do was turn this into a card party, especially not when Lena had managed to make it through nearly the whole game without one. 

“Are you alright?” Lena asked as she knelt down next to the winger, the anger wiped from her face in favor of a kinder, softer expression, the kind that was only reserved for Jule, and Jule alone. 

Her eyebrows were knit together lightly, her head tilted to the side in worry as she looked down at her teammate, who shook her head slightly. 

“It's a bad sprain or a possibly fracture,” Jule explained, parroting what the medic had told her as he nodded along. Lena hated the fact that she could tell Jule was trying not to cry, and it made her equal parts sad and murderously mad at the defender for causing the blonde to hurt this much. 

“Help me up?” the blonde asked, breaking Lena out of her train of thought as she nodded. But the German midfielder was more than a little panicked, staring down at Jule who was looking at her with big, misty eyes, and clutching at her ankle. 

The brunette hardly even thought about it, she simply acted. She didn’t think about the setting or the consequence, but rather on what was right in front of her. 

The older girl reached down, hooking her arms around Jule’s back and under her knee, and lifting her into the air with a slightly scary lack of effort. Suddenly the blonde’s face was right in front of her own, and Obi could stare directly into the wingers eyes. 

(Behind them stood Ewa, Alex, and Feli who, alongside thousands of fans, all but had their jaws on the ground) 

But Lena isn’t focused on that, but rather the way Jule is looking at her, her eyebrows pulled together in concern. The wingers face is red, if not from exertion than from this interaction, and the midfielder can see the baby hairs that have loosened from her ponytail and frame her face. 

“Obi?” Jule asked, her voice very soft, only loud enough for the brunette to hear. 

“Yes?” She replied instantly, her heart jumping into her throat. 

Sometimes Lena had these…moments with Jule, where she thought maybe it was possible that the other girl felt just as strongly as she did. 

“I can walk…I–I need to walk off the pitch,” Jule said, louder this time, and Lena startled at her words, despite still holding the blonde safely in her arms. 

The moment popped like a needle, and the brunette flushed an even deeper shade of red at the realization that she was definitely just kidding herself. 

It simply wasn’t possible that Jule felt the same for her as she did.

“Right! Yes, well, here we are,” Lena said quickly very carefully lowering Jule to the ground and waiting for the medic to 

Which left their teammates to watch the whole interaction, Alex, Ewa, and Feli still standing in a line as they looked back and forth between the winger and midfielder. 

“Did she just–” Alex started, her voice incredulous as she was cut off. 

“Yes.” Ewa says, never one to mince words. 

“In the middle of a–” Feli tried this time, faltering when the Polish forward answered yet again. 

“Yep.” The striker said again, and the three women were stuck standing there in amazement at what had just occurred. 

“Hopeless lovesick idiots, the both of them!” Lynn whisper shouted as she walked past the trio from just behind them, her hand cupped over her mouth as though she was trying to be sly, despite the volume of her voice. 

But neither Jule nor Lena heard their scheming teammates, both of them too focused on trying to get the winger off the pitch to be paying attention to their teammates. Obi helped Jule to wrap her arms around the shoulders of the medic as she hobbled off the field, Vivien taking her place on the pitch. 

Lena doesn’t bother looking toward her coach, she knows that she won’t get a sub out, not this late in the game. But her heart isn’t really in it anymore, it’s back in the medical room where she knows that Jule is, probably getting an x-ray or something of the sort. 

Not that it really matters though. Jule’s injury has sucked the energy out of the match as quickly as it had come, and it ends up being a passing game for Wolfsburg for the remaining few minutes of the game. 

Meanwhile, Jule had just gotten situated on a bed in the medical room when Svenja had burst in the doors, her eyes searching for and immediately finding the blonde winger. The older woman hadn’t been playing, had only been sitting on the bench when Jule had gone down, and had instantly gone to get permission to go check on the younger German. 

It wasn’t news to anyone that Svenja was absolutely the team Mom of the group, now even more so because she was an actual Mom. But she always made it her mission to look out for the younger girls, in whatever way she could. 

Like when they got hurt, and she knew that they would likely be stressed and in pain. Jule can’t help the relief that washed over her when the door swung open to reveal Svenja, her eyes watering. 

“Hey kid,” the forward soothed gently as she came to stand next to Jule, who swallowed thickly as she did her best to offer a smile, even if it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. It was Svenja who sat with her for the next twenty minutes as they ran more tests, brought in a portable x-ray machine, determining that it was a small fracture in her ankle. It was minor, she would likely be out for the next four weeks and in a boot, but it meant that she wouldn’t have to have surgery, which of course was good news. 

The doctors had just given her a boot to wear as well as some crutches, slipping out of the room and leaving Jule to get down from the table, when they first heard it. 

At first glance, it sounded like a commotion in the hallways, and Jule thought that maybe it was the girls celebrating the win. 

But it only took a second for her to realize that was in fact not the case. It’s Obi’s voice that she hears, high and shrill. The midfielder sounds beyond stressed and panicked, and Jule feels her eyebrows furrow in concern at the noise. 

“Where is sh–” Obi cuts herself off when she all but busts open the door to the med room, Feli hot on her heels. 

“Jule!” the midfielder exclaims, her eyes widening as she realized that she had found the winger. 

“Jesus, did we have to sprint the whole way?” Feli pants, following Obi into the room with sarcasm dripping from her tone. Svenja forces down a chuckle but Lena doesn’t even bother paying her any mind, her eyes wild with concern. 

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is everything alright? Do you need–” Lena started, only for Svenja to very quickly cut her off, sensing that the German midfielders' panicked energy was not what this room needed right now. 

“Feli, could you help Jule with her boot and crutches while I talk to the lovely Ms. Oberdorf for a second?” Svenja said, a question that wasn’t really a question at all as she drug the brunette out of the room, leaving Feli and Jule both to stare after them, a little bit lost but shrugging all the same. 

Svenja closed the door behind them, turning to Obi with a disapproving glint in her eyes. 

“Okay, you need to get it together lover girl, because you can’t–” Svenja started, but Obi shook her head, pulling back in clear disagreement, her expression weak. 

“Lover girl? I don’t even know what you’re talking abou–” she started, only for Svenja to double it and cut her off again. 

“You can save the denial for someone who actually believes you. We all know you love that girl, it’s about as clear as a sky blue sunny day, but perhaps we aren’t ready to have that exact conversation. So for now, I need you to calm the hell down and rein it in. You’re here to help that poor girl relax, not to stress her out with a game of twenty questions. Understand?” Svenja asked bluntly, knowing that sweet talking her way with Obi wasn’t something that was really all that necessary. 

The midfielder swallowed thickly before she nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment. But Svenja just pays her no mind, turning back toward the med room, where Feli and Jule were having a conversation of their own. 

Obi had to give herself a bit of a pep talk before she went back into the room, and by the time she reenters the med room, Jule is upright with a boot and crutches. 

“Lena, I’m going to take Jule home, would you like to come with us?” Svenja prompted, gesturing as subtly as she could toward Jule. 

It didn’t matter either way, because her sentence was barely done before the midfielder was responding. 

“Yes, absolutely!” Lena chirped out, her voice about two octaves higher than normal. Jule was a little pink in the face from using the crutches, but she still looked up with a quirked brow, entirely unimpressed with how fake her friend's voice sounded. 

She chose not to comment on it further, her foot throbbing painfully inside the boot as she made her way slowly out to the car. The winger is so focused on her journey, in fact, that she hardly notices the way that Lena hovers behind her, just on the off chance that Jule stumbles and needs help. 

She also entirely misses the several eye rolls from both Feli and Svenja as they walked out to the car, both women equally annoyed by their collective cluelessness. 

Not my circus not my monkeys, the defender mouthed to the forward, whose face immediately dropped in indignation. 

“Yes it is!” She exclaimed, shooting a dazzling (and decidedly fake) smile at both Obi and Jule when they turned back around, equally confused by the seemingly random words. 

But Feli waved them off, a thrilled grin on her face at Svenja’s little outburst. The defender helped get Jule into the forward's car before saying goodnight to her teammates and heading back to her own apartment. Lena followed Svenja’s car in her own, figuring it would be good for them to have possible means of transportation if they needed anything. 

It was Svenja who helped Jule instead, getting her set up on the couch and dolling out pain medication before she began to go over the list of what to do with Lena. 

She didn’t bother with asking the brunette if she was staying with Jule, she just…always had been. There was no use in denying the inevitable, really. 

“Okay, and you call me if you need anything, alright? Even if it’s the middle of the night,” Svenja told Jule, who gave her a small smile and a nod. 

“Yes, yes, of course Mom. Thank you for everything today,” the blonde replied softly, and the older woman squeezed her arm affectionately before seeing herself, leaving only the winger and midfielder in Jule’s apartment. 

It was hardly the first time that Lena had been here, quite the opposite really. The two of them were practically inseparable, and spent most of their time together, at one of their two apartments. 

Obi was so used to Jule’s apartment, the younger girl practically considered her a roommate. The second bedroom had a dresser with her clothes in it and a toothbrush for her in the bathroom, so it wasn’t that big of a stretch honestly. 

But for some reason the midfielder can’t seem to sit still today, floating around the apartment doing odds and ends, asking Jule if she needs something every few minutes (seconds, really), and exerting a rather tumultuous energy over the whole place. 

After about fifteen minutes, Jule sighs heavily. And right on key, Lena appears by her side, looking down at her with wide eyes. 

“What! What is it?” She asks breathlessly, having run in from the kitchen. Jule shakes her head, her expression set with exasperation that masks the hurt she’s beginning to feel. 

“Lena, if you do not want to be here you can just go home! I broke my foot, not my entire body, I do not need a babysitter,” Jule huffs out, having mistaken Lena’s nerves for annoyance. 

But she’s surprised by the way that the brunette’s face falls, and she instantly settles down on the couch next to her teammates, shaking her head. 

“No, no, there is nowhere else I want to be, I promise. I just…I don’t…” Lena trails off, struggling to find the words. Her face is screwed with indecision, and it makes the wingers heart leap into her throat. 

“You don’t…what?” Jule prompts lightly, her voice light and barely audible. It sounds rather breathless, and she hates herself for a moment by how much her voice gives her hopes away. She prays Lena won’t pick up on it…or maybe she prays that she will. 

Obi looks over at the blonde, her heart thumping in her chest. Jule is looking at her with an entirely unreadable expression, and for just a moment the brunette wonders if it would even be possible for her friend to feel the same way that she does. 

She couldn’t explain her attraction to Jule, nor could she articulate how strong it was. It felt like the winger was the sun, and the brunette was simply made to orbit around her. 

Everything was better when Jule was there. Her laugh, her smile had this completely contagious property, and it made Obi feel lighter, happier, better. 

She made Lena better, just by being herself. She was warm and kind where the midfielder was callous and gruff. She was soft and forgiving, forcing Lena to relax and give herself some grace. 

It wasn’t something she could explain, because how on earth are you supposed to describe the one person in the world who means everything to you? 

Lena opens her mouth, her feelings on the tip of her tongue. They’ve been sitting there for a now awkwardly long period of time, the silence clinging to them both, hanging in the space between them. Jule is staring back at her, her jaw clenched shut, her teeth clenched with a nervous anxiousness, wondering if this is the moment where everything will change.  

But doubt creeps into the brunette’s mind, and the thought of confessing flees her mind as quickly as it comes. 

“I just don’t know what to do to help you feel better, that's all,” Lena finally says lamely, and it takes everything in Jule for her expression not to drop in disappointment, swallowing the feeling and offering a smile instead. 

“You make me feel better just by being here,” she admitted, and it was the truth, if not the entire truth. 

Was it lying, if it was a lie of omission? 

Jule isn’t sure. She isn’t sure what she’d rather be: filled with regret because she never said anything, or filled with regret because she had. 

“But if you’re just going to sit here with two working feet I wouldn’t say no to a sandwich,” the blonde tacked on at the end, the breath stolen from her lungs at the way Lena’s face lit up, a laugh tumbling from her mouth. 

“You got it, coming right up!” She announced as she hopped up from the couch, leaving Jule to her thoughts. 

Just as she often did, the German winger spent the next few minutes mulling over the pros and cons list that had only grown as time dragged on. 

To tell her best friend that she was in love with her, and risk all of the fall out if she didn’t feel the same? Or never tell her, and simply live with what could have been, if she was a little less scared? 

It seemed like an easy choice when she framed it like that, but the actual implications of her actions somehow seemed so much larger. 

She’s so lost in thought, that she hardly notices Lena coming back with food for them both, until the midfielder is placing her hand gently on Jule’s thigh. The touch causes the blonde to jump, and Lena retracts her hand just as quickly, as though she’s been burned. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the midfielder is quick to say, but Jule shakes her head emphatically. 

“No apologies, please. I was just lost in thought…about my foot! About my foot, I was thinking about my foot!” Jule explained, seeming a little too happy to be thinking about her foot when the person on the receiving end of her words doesn’t realize its a coverup. 

But really, what was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like she could just tell Lena how she felt, right here and right now. 

“Thank you for the food,” the blonde rushes to say instead, and the two fall into gentle chatter as they eat their food. Jule is honestly glad for the distraction, would rather do anything other than talk about her injury right now. 

She’s lucky it wasn’t worse, that it wasn’t badly broken, or required surgery, but it still sucked to be injured regardless. 

The winger knew that she was lucky to have Lena to sit here and make her laugh, to drop whatever she had been doing to be here. So amidst her confusion over whether to admit her feelings, still her gratitude toward the midfielder balloons in size. 

When Jule leaned forward to put her plate on the coffee table, Lena is looking at her closely. 

“What else do you need? What can I get you?” The older girl asks, and Jule shakes her head slightly, a soft smile on her face. 

“I’m fine Obi, I don’t need anything else. I honestly just kind of want to go to bed,” Jule admitted, and Lena nodded, before looking down with a furrowed brow at the blonde’s boot. 

“What?” Jule asks with a tiny chuckle, loving the fact that she could see Lena’s brain work in real time, as if she was working out a very complex math problem and not staring at her teammates foot. 

“That thing has to hurt to walk on, doesn’t it?” Obi asked, and Jule shrugged before admitting that while it was a bit painful, it was manageable. 

But that seemed to do nothing but displease the midfielder further, and before Jule could hardly say a thing in response, Lena was reaching forward, and just as she had on the football pitch, picking the blonde up. 

Only, in this instance it was a tad more appropriate than it had been earlier in the day. 

“Oh! Lena, what are you doing?” Jule asked with a laugh, still amazed that the brunette could pick her up with such ease, with so little effort. 

The midfielder rolled her eyes, carefully navigating them around the couch and toward the stairs. 

“Clearly I’m using the fact that I have two working legs to flex on you! Now, what do we say?” Lena teased, throwing on an overly saccharine and fake tone that is clearly meant to get Jule to laugh. Not that she cares, because it works easily. She tips her head back slightly, content when her teammates catches the change of weight easily. 

When she leans back in she’s still giggling, but when she opens her eyes she finds that her face is a lot closer to Lena’s than she had anticipated. The younger girl swallows roughly, blinking several times to try to rid her expression of surprise. 

Lena’s brown eyes are staring at her pensively, softly. The sense of gentleness that her gaze held was one that had always just been reserved for Jule, and here it was, just for her. 

As brash and argumentative as Obi could be, there was no one in the world who could cause her to soften quite like Jule Brand. 

The older girl clears her throat after a second, focusing on continuing up the stairs and into the bedroom. 

The next few minutes are filled with getting themselves situated and ready for bed, teeth brushes and sink showers attempted because the thought of having to stand on one leg to shower sounded like hell on earth. 

But there was Lena, always there to hold her up and make her smile, even when she was just doing mundane tasks like brushing her teeth. 

They switch her boot out for an ankle brace, to give her some support without being too restrictive. Lena shoves a pillow down at the end of the bed gracelessly, before gently propping up Jule’s foot with great care. The two acts are entirely juxtaposing of one another, and they make the blonde giggle as she settles into her bed, the flush that coats Obi’s cheeks as a result not lost on her. 

“Will you stay with me?” Jule looked up at Lena, her face filled with uncharacteristic worry. It was hardly a question she needed to ask, and the answer from her teammate is both immediate and automatic. 

“Of course,” she replied, moving to turn the light off and climb into bed next to her best friend. 

But it’s only after the lights are turned off, and the comfort of darkness has descended on them both, that they are able to finally admit what’s been on the tip of their tongues for weeks now. 

The fact that’s probably both surprising to the two of them is that it’s Jule, and not Lena, who says something first, her boldness coming out of nowhere even if it didn’t last for more than a single word. 

Lena was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling from her spot on the left side of the bed. Jule laid on the right side, turned on her left side so that she was facing her teammate, which was how she usually slept when there wasn’t anyone in her bed anyways. 

The winger can just barely make out the brunette’s profile, the bridge of her nose and the sharp edges of her jaw, her chest rising and falling shallowly, heartbeat quickened by whom she was in proximity of. 

“Lena?” Jule asked, her voice quiet. It was rare for her to say the midfielders actual name, and Lena’s heart skips a beat at the question. 

“Yes Jule?” She responds, her voice equally soft. 

“I–” Jule opens her mouth to say more, and finds that she isn’t sure what to say. 

It’s an uncomfortable reality, to realize that you care so greatly for another person in life that you find yourself unable to fully elucidate your feelings. 

But before she can even try again, Obi is cutting her thought process off softly. 

“Can I be honest with you about something?” The brunette asks, struggling to keep her throat open enough to explain how she’s feeling. 

“Yes,” the blonde replies instantly, her words filled with relief and hope, and it’s her tone and that alone that spurs Lena on, that allows her to say what she’s been feeling for months. 

“When we were downstairs and we were talking before and I paused I…I wasn’t brave enough to say it but I can now,” she began, taking a very slow breath before continuing. “I think I love you, Jule.” 

“You think?” The winger asked, her voice small but neutral in its tone. Lena swallows roughly at the sound, wondering if she’s made a big mistake.

But it’s too late now to think about that, so instead she forges ahead. 

“No, not I think. I know I love you, and I have for months now. Maybe ever since I met you,” Lena admits, finally turning her head to look at Jule. The blonde is sitting in bed on her side, facing the older girl. 

When the brunette turned toward her, the winger reached out with her hand, running her fingers gently over the midfielders cheek until she was cradling her jaw. 

“I love you too,” Jule whispered into the space next to them, and she can feel rather than see the tear that slips down Lena’s cheek, the wetness seeping into her palm. The midfielder turns her head, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to the inside of Jule’s wrist. 

The brunette moves with such gentleness and care, it physically feels as though the blonde’s heart will burst from how in love with Lena Oberdorf she is. 

Obi moves lightly, but with purpose nonetheless, as she gathers Jules into her arms and finally, their two bodies are pressed together softly. 

The winger tucks her body into Lena’s, not caring that her foot protests at the movement as she’s engulfed in Lena’s scent and the warmth of her body. Jule tucks her head into the midfielders neck, clutching to the brunette as Lena’s hands bring her close, keeping her safe. 

The sigh of relief that they both let out happens at the same time, as the comfort of finally being pressed together is realized. Jule cuddles into Lena, feeling sleep pull at her, the worry of her feelings not being returned now swept away like a leaf in a strong current. 

“I love you,” Jule murmured into Lena’s neck, the soft puff of air tickling the brunette’s skin in the best possible way. She smiled softly, tightening her grip imperceptibly. 

“I love you more,” Lena promises, pressing a kiss to Jule’s temple as they melt into one another, sleep coming to claim them both in the darkness of the blonde’s bedroom. 

There is still so much to talk about and discuss properly, sure, but for the night nothing else matters, except the fact that neither of them can really tell where the one ends, and the other one begins.

#lena oberdorf #jule brand #svenja huth #feli rauch #vfl wolfsburg women #ewa pajor #woso #lynn wilms

[helyiios]

White button up

or, Benji’s really worried about his shirt.

Ethan was not panicking. He was not. He was perfectly fine, and he was running, because what’s the point of being Ethan fucking Hunt if you’re not, like, sprinting for your life on a regular basis, and he was perfectly relaxed.

[Hum,] Luther says in his ear, [we lost signal of B—]

“I KNOW !” he yells back, growing more and more upset, “I’m going towards his last known location. I still have amo, let’s just hope he’s still there.”

[Copy that.]

The worst part, he realises, is that he knows that Benji can handle getting roughed up a little. Wasn’t it the whole point of being an agent ? Getting your ass kicked on the regular ?

Doesn’t mean he likes to think about his friend in that position. He likes to think about him in many positions, but not this one.

He groans and keeps running, his gun kept by his side as he takes a sharp turn left, feeling the soles of his shoes screech on the pavement, and he almost loses his balance, and before he can start running again he hears some shouting at least two streets from where he was.

He picks up the pace, trotting towards the origin of the noise, and he does end up finding Benji—who was standing in front of a man, one hand raised defensively.

Technically, he should be jumping to his defence. Which is what he was just counting on doing, before catching the light glint of a sharp object held behind his friend’s back.

So instead, still hidden by a wall, he stands still and watches.

“I’m non-violent,” Benji nervously calls out to his attacker, hands still raised, “come on, there’s no need to resort to violence to solve this, is there ?”

“You and your friends blew up our headquarters and killed our boss,” the man seethes, visibly furious, “and you think you’re going to get out of it so easily ? Oh, I think the fuck not.”

“Well, technically I didn’t blow it up, it was my mate. If you really want to get specific, you’ll have to fight him. He doesn’t know how to, though…”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it’s not fucking funny ! Stop talking and come closer so I can fuck you up.”

“But I don’t want to,” Benji whines, his right hand still holding the sharp tool, “c’mon, please ?”

The other man snorts, his fighting stance unmoving despite his raised eyebrow.

“Are you seriously negotiating I let you go ? Man, you are not a good agent, aren’t you ?”

“It’s not that,” he moans, visibly upset, “it’s just…”

He sighs, running his free hand through his hair.

“This is tailored Loro Piana, and I don’t want to get it dirty.”

From his hiding spot, Ethan has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep silent. Was Benji seriously worried about his clothes ?

“Shut up !” his assailant finally roars, running towards the agent at full speed, “be a man and FIGHT !”

With a sharp move Benji slashes the guy’s face, using the element of surprise of the concealed knife to slam his cheek as powerfully as he could, sending him stammering a few steps back. Quickly he gets back into position, and he aims for the neck, eyes and skull first, surprisingly ending up with cutting the tip of the man’s nose, and he can’t help but grimace out of disgust at this, pulling away to avoid getting punched.

His next move isn’t so lucky, because the man is suddenly tackling him, and his head hits the pavement so hard he thinks he passes out for half a second, but before he gets the chance to fight back, there’s a strong jab at his jaw, and he furiously spits out a mouthful of blood.

Thankfully his knife is still tightly held in his hand, and without thinking he shoves the blade inside the other’s left eye, twisting and straining, pushing the man off him as he leaves the weapon there, hopping back a few metres away.

He looks down at himself and at the red stained crisp shirt, and he groans.

“Really ?!” he protests, spreading his arms disbelievingly, “do you know how expensive this is ?! You guys have no respect for textile !”

His attacker is still halfway on the ground, trying to pull the knife out without screeching in pain, and Benji can’t help but stare, his upper lip raised in absolute disgust, his arms crossed. He’s still at a safe distance from him.

“I’m getting really tired of having to fight back idiots who think it’s okay to go after the little tech guy, because oh, of course he’s going to go easy on us ! Well guess what,” he spits out, genuinely upset, “some of us also like the thrill of the field ! If you wanted to vanilla fight with shitty punches, just ask Luther ! I love the man, but he’s shit at hand to hand combat, okay ?! And honestly, like, did you think I didn’t expect at least one person to run after me ?! Do I look stupid to you ?!”

“You’re…a fucking…lunatic,” the other man difficultly chokes out, unable to get back up, blood pouring of out of his face. “Who the fuck…are you ?”

“And like, it’s almost insulting they only sent one guy after me. Like what, I couldn’t take more people on ? I’m not Ethan, but I’m not that helpless ! And I especially brought my knife so I could switch the mood a bit and not get it done too quick with a head shot, do you realise how disappointing this is ?! And you ruined my favourite shirt !”

The man seems to give up on him, because as soon as the knife is out of his eye, he collapses on his back, breathing heavily. He tracks Benji’s movement as he watches him walk back towards him, crouching by his side. The agent inspects him throughly, patting him in search of the disk they’d been after. He finds it in his left pant pocket.

“Don’t mind me,” Benji pouts, taking it out and putting it in the inside pocket of his coat, “no bad feelings, nothing personal, mate. Huh, does it hurt ?” he then casually asks, chin resting on the palm of him hand.

“…what ?”

“The whole eye thing. Did it hurt ?”

The other man closes his eyes, letting out a breathless laugh.

“Like a bitch.”

“That’s interesting.”

Benji gets back up, dusting his pants a little uselessly, grabbing his knife again and putting it back in his place.

“Great doing business with you.”

“Go fuck…yourself.”

“Jesus. So rude.”

Ethan, who’d been somewhere in between mesmerised and horrified, finally steps out, waving awkwardly at his field technician, almost shy.

“Huh, not interrupting anything, I hope ?” he asks sort of lamely, “are you alright ?”

Benji almost jumps out of his skin, clearly not expecting him. He manages to swallow down his helpless and high pitched yelp.

“Huh—yeah,” he says instead, slicking his hair back, “I was just finished. Do you want to, like, put a bullet in him ? I don’t have my gun on me.”

Ethan shrugs.

“He’ll die soon enough,” he decides.

His friend hums, not caring enough to contradict him.

“I got the disk, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw that. Congrats, Benj. And huh, sorry about your shirt.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” he sighs, shaking his head. “How did you find me ? I lost comms with you at least twenty minutes ago.”

“I kind of, just ran around,” Ethan admits. “This city isn’t really big.”

“Is it weird that I’m really craving bolognese right now ?”

“Dunno if there’s the required ingredients at the safehouse, but I could come up with something.”

“That’d be lovely.”

“Well,” the older man smiles, holding out his hand, “let’s head back.”

Benji grins, taking it gratefully.

“Yeah, let’s.”

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #benji dunn #ethan hunt #benthan #this is my freak Benji agenda

[arafilez]

੭୧ ⼂ LIES YOU BUILT ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ kwh x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤangst, no comfort, bsf to strangers ㅤ warnings crying, woonhak is a little toxic ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k wc

Kim Woonhak,

It’s stupid how you still have a mark in my life, the smallest importance with the biggest meaning. Your footprints over my soul never washed away, instead, they stay, stubborn and scratched, like rock carvings. To put it simply I hate you. That is pretty straightforward, isn’t it? I am like that, I have always been like that. Oh, wait you know that already. You used to find me simple, you loved that. Said we completed each other. Now, I cry in my bed thinking about all the lies you fed me about being best friends forever.

Oh, the lies you mastered so well!

I regret every one of those days I had called you up just so I could update you on my life. Every single secret, every laugh, and every tear I had told you of and every bit of our shared stories. I used to be interesting to you, so when did I become so boring that you had to find newer, more popular and cooler friends? What happened to our late-night chats, the ones till three where we both had to hide from our parents with excuses? Where are the stories now? Did you forget them as easily as you threw away our friendship? Did you tell your new friends my stories just so you could get a good laugh out of them? A good laugh out of the class’s lame bitch’s stories- yeah I believe you can do that. If anyone told me a year ago that Kim Woonhak is doing this I would have laughed at their faces. Now, I am the one who scoffs and tells those to the few classmates who feel sympathy for me.

Pathetic! I am pathetic!

There is still no note, no explanation, not a single sentence you said about this while I hold on to the thread loosely binding the last pieces of our friendship. Every time I asked you what was wrong you had one word, “Nothing.” Where was I wrong? I think I was wrong to put my trust in you. Tell me why you left our friendship as if it was not even worth the dirt under your shoe? Tell me why am I still hung up on our last conversation even if it was just you taking advantage of me and wanting my notes? Tell me, did I become lame after you found friends who are more popular than me? Tell me, was I lame the way I behaved? Or was it the way I became loud when I got excited or the way I laughed? Did that make you leave and go to your new friends who have the “cool” aura? How could you take everything I love and crush it so easily? Are your fingers that strong Woonhak?

What happened to our years of friendship Woonhak? Why does this hurt more than any break-up ever did? Why does every time now a simple, sub-important friendship breaks or an argument happens with my friends do I hurriedly apologise multiple times even if I was not in the wrong? Why does it always me feel maybe I am the rotten apple among my friends? Why does your face drop in my mind every time I think I am not enough? Why I am still hung up on you when I have so many newer friends who actually appreciate me? Why do I still picture myself in the mirror arguing with you and putting you in your place with my words and my confidence? Confidence I have only when I am alone? Why do I fantasize about a time you even feel a little fucking sorry for doing all this?

I have so many questions for you, questions I never got to ask and questions that formed later. What did I do for you to break this friendship? Where was I wrong? Why did you start ignoring me that Tuesday when we talked on Monday? Why did you make sure your whole new friend circle hate me? Why did you make fun of me with them? How could you do that? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Was it that worthless? Was I wasting that much of your time?

Do you think I am being dramatic? Then explain this!

I have so many friends, but every time a minor crack appears, my insecurities build up. Insecurities that weren’t there till you crafted them. Insecurities that weren’t there till you made fun of me in front of me only. Insecurities that weren’t there before you decided to blatantly ignore me one day after our years of friendship. Insecurities that weren’t there until you decided the term best friend is not for me anymore. I would say we both drew blood, and we both got hurt, but were those cuts ever equal?

This is all very straightforward, isn’t it? That’s the second time I am asking you that. Because damn hell, it is. It is my rawest and truest emotions and I don’t want to twist my words to let you know this, which you never will. The worst part of the whole thing is that you will never read this, I will never send this and this will not get you a scratch but it is jabbing my heart multiple times. Twisting the knife you crafted especially for me and pushing it in repeatedly. Why would you do this all to me? Can we talk? Is there something there you never told me and let it build inside you? Or am I just simply horrible? I wish I could let it go, I have tried so many times but I can’t. I wish I could forgive you but what should I forgive you and your cocky, small-minded friends for? Nothing! It is terrible how you come into my mind whenever the smallest incident occurs and I think of telling you, and then it hits me again.

You are still everything to me while I am nothing to you!

From Y/n

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤ is this self-indulgent? yes, a lot! i will be back with bonedo fluff tho TT ㅤ𓏧ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @slytherinshua ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

#ㅤ── ㅤara posts ㅤ𝜗𝜚 #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor #bnd x reader #bnd #woonhak #kim woonhak #woonhak x reader #bnd woonhak #boynextdoor woonhak #woonhak icons #bnd fluff #bnd fic #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor imagines #bnd imagines #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor angst #bnd angst #jaehyun x reader #sungho x reader #riwoo x reader #leehan x reader #taesan x reader #⋈ ˚ ‹ bnd › #𓂃 FIC : lies you built 𒉽 #divider by chilumitos #k-labels

[ryuichirou]

if you want to, could you share your headcanons for the twst omegas in heat? like i can see riddle getting frustrated/flustered because he keeps forgetting rules…including the one that says if he’s in head he can just relax trey pls help him

Like I said in another ABO-related hc post, it’s incredible how much I end up yapping about it considering that that at the beginning I always think that I have nothing to say about omegaverse-related things lol

Sorry for the wait, Anon! And thank you for this ask, it was interesting to think about all of the boys… As always, starting with Riddle, and I actually agree with everything you’ve said about him!

Riddle – his first estrus is going to hit him like a truck. He’ll absolutely get flustered, start forgetting rules, feel dizzy; overall he’d seriously underestimate just how bad it’s going to be. Maybe it’s because he is a late bloomer… He is very snappy whenever he is in heat, not only because of how shitty he feels, but also because he is embarrassed to be in this state. Riddle knows that he is allowed to take it easy when he’s in heat, but he doesn’t want to! Trey tries to take care of him, but never really oversteps , even though he knows that getting laid would help Riddle a lot… he should really hurry and make up his mind though, because if he isn’t, a certain huge-ass fish is going to scratch the Goldfishie’s itch and drown him in eel juices~

Deuce – oh he hates being in heat, and he is a bit traumatised by it because of that one time he didn’t take his meds when he was a delinquent and almost got in trouble. Now he takes them every single time, but they don’t help him as much as he would like them to; maybe it’s because his body built up tolerance, maybe it’s because he takes the cheapest widely available meds. He should talk to other omegas, but he is too embarrassed, so he just tries to combat it silently… He is also sure that people don’t know that he is an omega, but everyone around him knows. His Heartslabyul senpais know. Jack knows (and it’s a bit difficult for him to run near Deuce when he’s in heat, so he runs faster lol). Even Ace knows… but doesn’t address it because he’s waiting for Deuce to do it. But it’s a very hard thing to do, when your closest friend starts smelling so deliciously every month, being active, sweating and smelling even more. They’re 100% going to have sex before they have an actual conversation about them being an alpha and an omega.

Leona – “don’t touch me I am in foul mood” type of estrus. Well, actually, he has very good medications that were tailored to his personal health and needs specifically, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him, but he still gets lazy and moody. The fact that he is an omega is an open secret – people in Savanaclaw usually don’t assume that, but it’s not like it’s hidden from those who pay attention. Ruggie noticed that instantly and became Leona’s personal plaything since the first estrus that Ruggie was present for. It kind of happened on accident, but then became an agreement of sorts; so not every time Leona is in heat, Ruggie is always there to have sex with him and make him feel better. As long as he doesn’t claim him, it’s all allowed, and Leona prefers to calm himself with sex and not meds anyway.

Jamil – he is very careful when he is in heat: he tracks his cycle, he takes all the meds, he is extra careful about his hygiene and uses different types of deodorant, and he even avoids food that could affect his hormones in any way. In result, he is seemingly flawless, even his performance during his basketball practice doesn’t suffer when he is in heat; there is only a couple of people in the school who even know that Jamil is an omega. But this is because they don’t see how much he suffers at night, when the meds wear off and he has to bite his pillow and push his fingers deep inside to ease himself a little bit. He had to use snake whisper on someone once though because that random Scarabia student saw him doing just that, and Jamil erased his memory. Should’ve used him to have sex… But he just panickedbecause the guy saw him as he was suffocating himself with Kalim’s dirty shirt.

Vil – he completely conquered estrus lol He learned how to make the most perfect soothing potion that doesn’t make him sleepy, but keeps him calm, dulls his scent significantly and ALSO gives him some extra vitamins, calcium, collagen or something among the lines. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work for all omegas as perfectly as it works for him, so it’s not like he’s just gatekeeping it for himself. Still, he isn’t hidden as perfectly as Jamil is – those who have heightened sense of smell (like Rook or the Tweels or Jack) could still figure out that he is in heat, he just isn’t affected by it. Also, whenever he has time to relax and unwind, it becomes even more obvious that he is in heat because he has his clingy horny moments, “passive” moments when he just lies there and looks at his lover like he is waiting to get eaten. And when Vil finally gets fucked by him, he clings to an alpha’s dick as if his life depends on it. He enjoys indulging on his omega instincts much more than he cares to admit, to be honest… he tries to always be proper and think rationally, but a feral hungry beast (bitch..??) inside him jumps out sometimes.

Epel – he is damn lucky that his first estrus happened when he was already under Vil’s wing because he shares all the remedies and potions with Epel and even tries to be kinder to him when he suffers through his heat. That being said, during that estrus Epel threw a tantrum, got angry and refused Vil’s help because he really wasn’t ready to face the fact that he is an omega (the signs were there all this time, but Epel was in denial…). Did he end up lying on the floor of the Pomefiore’s hallway, whining and moaning in a puddle of his own slick, unable to stand up because of his shaky legs? Of course he did. And almost felt his uterus (of which existence he was unaware only an hour ago) jump out of him because there was an alpha nearby, and it was the first time Epel felt this mix of fear and strong desire: he didn’t care who it was, but he was very scared of him and still wanted that alpha to fuck him. Luckily, it was just Rook who came to pick Epel up~ And he was his usual comforting silly Rook self, but when he warned Epel that any other alpha could’ve easily taken advantage of him, Epel felt cold… but also a little disappointed, as if Rook just refused him. What the fuck was this feeling??

Idia – he is lucky because his estrus isn’t as strong, plus the Shrouds are pretty much a dynasty of omegas, so the meds they provide are pretty good. He still feels the tingles and dull pain, plus he gets a bit dizzy and sleepy, but he spends all his time in his room anyway, surrounding by comforting scents and Ortho who is completely unbothered by this whole ABO thing. Idia loves to talk about how Ortho is the perfect companion during his estrus because he isn’t going crazy because of his scent, he brings him everything that he needs; Ortho even massages Idia’s nape and stomach, which usually soothes him a lot, sometimes Idia even feels like purring when it happens. But sometimes Ortho pushes these spots in a way that stimulates Idia’s omega parts, so Idia gets hornier instead. He usually just asks Ortho to stop massaging him, awkwardly says that everything is okay and runs to the bathroom, but Ortho knows that Idia can’t run from it forever: he has to stimulate his body and ejaculate from time to time! Also, when Idia actually touches himself (very rarely), sometimes he starts thinking if Crimson Muscle is an alpha… he probably is, right? But Idia shouldn’t think about it, this is just pointless…

Silver – at first it seems like he doesn’t care about being in heat at all, but it’s because he is very well-trained and does everything for it not to bother him, but unfortunately his methods are a bit… “primitive”. A lot of it is just him pushing through his own arousal, pain and fatigue, plus some plant-based remedies he learned back when he used to live in the woods. The only more-or-less modern thing that he does is that he uses a buttplug (Lilia’s gift!), which sounds very counter-intuitive… and it absolutely is, but maybe due to it being a habit, it helps Silver to stay focused when he’s training + it seems to help to cover his scent a little bit. But whenever he pulls it out, it’s waterfalls of omega juice… it’s honestly a miracle that Sebek didn’t jump him yet, but when he learns how Silver is handling his body, he’ll get so mad that he’ll eat him alive lol But also Lilia rewards Silver generously for being a good boy after a couple of days of him suffering in heat, so it’s all good~

Malleus – his estrus hits him the hardest, it’s like the nature glitches with him: dragon fae don’t even produce offsprings all that often, but his body is still super demanding every other month. And it happens even before he is in heat: he loses appetite, gets a bit snappy, and then, when he is in heat, he starts hiding and wants to either be alone or be with his lover at all times. Lilia always asks him not to hide and just stay in his room because he doesn’t want to go looking for him, but somehow it always ends with Malleus telling Lilia that it shouldn’t be that difficult for him to find Malleus, since he knows the scent so well and all, and somehow it leads to them having sex. Lilia always tells himself that he should stop doing it, and that this is the last time he’s giving in and indulging both of them like this. Malleus should find himself an alpha, goddamnit!

#replies #headcanons

[writin-with-the-blues]

can you please write more of the blu medic x red mercs but the rest of red team finds out?? Like the red merc walks into base and the rest of the team is like "um hey what the HELL you have a crush on a BLU!?!?!?" (If you can't do this scenario for all the mercs can you do it for pyro, engineer, and scout please) thank you!!! Sorry If this request is alot.

Oh absolutely I can do this! Sorry if updates have been slow, finals has been killing me and this seemed the easiest to post. (I feel like I am always writing Pyro wrong LMAO).

OG Post Here

Right person, Wrong side

Pyro, Engineer, and Scout x Male!Blue Medic! Reader (Romantic)

Pyro:

They are probably the most interesting when it comes to you.

They tried to talk about you to the rest of the Mercenaries actually. However, since most of them can’t here them, they brush it off as utter nonsense. Except for one particular person.

Miss Pauling.

It was over a phone call, since pyro was in their room, they didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. It had to do with a contract killing you in particular and they rejected it. Miss Pauling inquired further about it, she was simply told, “Oh they didn’t tell you? I love him.”

“You can fall in love?”

Okay, ow, that hurt. But that one conversation with Miss Pauling somehow got spread around the entirety of Red Team. Though, it isn’t really a case of, ‘They are in love with blue team’ but a case of, ‘They can love?!’

Overall, it went alright. Though it did show how people felt about their cognitive abilities.

Engineer:

Ah yes, Dell, the man with more PHD’s than fingers of the Mercs have after a fight. He got caught because of an invention.

I am a firm believer that Dell’s love languages are Gift Giving and Acts of Service. He adores the moments when you just look so happy and excited, so keeping the stressful moments to a minimum with his inventions or hell just giving you a cup of coffee is something he thinks about a little too much.

So when he finds out that your medigun isn’t working as well as it should be, he immediately gets to solutions for you. It wasn’t like you asked though, since you didn’t even know something was wrong with your medigun in the first place but the nozzle doesn’t have the same range as it used to.

Though, his teams medic assumed it was for him until the very quick realization that it did absolutely nothing for his medigun. Which immediately was brought with accusations of being a spy and betraying the team.

To tell you it was ugly would be an understatement. To the point where his only defense is that he loved you. So he just simply said that. Did it resolve his issues with spy accusations? Yes. But it created a whole new problem.

Now there’s a bit of pressure from the rest of the team to just, ‘Snap out of it’ but he doesn’t. As much as he lies through his teeth, and as much as he tries to ignore it, he can’t. I mean, he’s a full grown man dammit, who cares?

Scout:

If you were to ask me how he even gotten himself in this situation, I’d say the many doodles he has of you.

He has a somewhat (very) crass way of expressing his feelings when using his sketchbook. Everything he feels about you just drawn out, kissing, hugging, other things a 20 year old with art abilities draws.

The first person to find these sketches of you is Spy. His first thoughts follow the beat of, ‘This is really good anatomy.’ To ‘Is that the enemy medic?’

Spy tried to use it as leverage against Scout. Once Scout realized what had happened, he almost immediately decided to tell every red merc on his own terms.

It’s the most Jeremy thing he could do, but I genuinely believe he’d do it. Though it goes as well as you expect it to. Which is not great.

To sum it up, there were so many argument over it. Whether it is justified or not, but most were in agreement that they knew they can’t change his feelings about you.

Masterlist

#x reader #idk how to tag this #tf2 #scout x reader #tf2 x reader #engineer x reader #pyro x reader #engineer tf2 #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #dell conagher #scout tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 x reader #pyro tf2 x reader

[lemotmo]

https://www.tumblr.com/lemotmo/750027986795888640/all-right-now-that-the-biggest-shock-from-seeing

My thing is I read things like this and I’m like this makes sense. And his arc needs to arc. But then it’s like you also have the people who have already seen the episode engaging online saying things like they really hope the show fixes what happens in tonight’s episode in 7.9 or 7.10 and them also liking fan response comments that are saying oh Eddie’s about to do something dumb with Marisol tonight isn’t he.

I get the it needs to get worse before it gets better…and it might even be tolerable if Marisol’s actress wasn’t who it is… but she is and seeing her on screen and having to continue watching it play out with them driving them closer together, sex scenes, missing scenes, constantly, like….when is enough going to be enough. There are other ways they could be doing all of this that didn’t feel like such slaps in the face to everyone especially while they keep spouting the were so inclusive and supportive badges. I hope the pay off is worth it. I really really do.

Hey Nonny! It totally get it! I do. I hate these kinds of arcs as well. Every good TV-show with slow burn romances has these kinds of arcs. I remember so many of them and the frustration it brought along, knowing that two people are so right for each other but they just can't see it or they actively 'choose' not to see it. I've watched tons of TV-shows like that. And, mind you, I was a teenager in the 90's, so we couldn't binge watch anything. We had to patiently wait for a new episode every week. Sometimes the channel suddenly decided to drop the show and there was no resolution at all. It was frustrating, but the one thing I learned was patience... so much patience. Because when that moment came. THE MOMENT when two slow burn lovers finally came together? So incredibly worth it!

So yes. I get it. When I see stills with Eddie and Marisol like this I do get angry. I know in my gut that Eddie might be about to do something monumentally stupid for the wrong reasons. But then I think back to Ana and I realise it's the exact same story they are telling. But this time it'll (hopefully) have a better ending. An ending of Eddie choosing his own happiness over that of his son for once. Doesn't mean he loves Chris any less. It just means that the most important thing for Chris is that his father is happy and that will make him happy as well.

Eddie won't be running away this time, just actively choosing for himself. This is growth and it's what we need to see for him to move on to something better in life. And hopefully, if the show chooses to go there, that will be Buck.

I know Buck is with Tommy now, but that relationship is definitely also on a timeline with a clear ending. Marisol and Tommy are plot devices. They only pop up in the narrative when they are needed to make a point.

So the way I see it, one day both Eddie and Buck will be completely free and they'll be able to actively choose each other. And they will be each other's endgame.

As for Edy. I hear you. I hear you loud and clear. I always try to seperate actor from character, but in this case it's extremely difficult to do. I'm not sure why the show has decided to keep her around, knowing who she really is. I can only hope she is on her way out as we speak and we won't see her again in season 8 or anywhere else on our TV-screens.

I hope tonight's episode won't stress you out too much Nonny. I wish you calm and happy times.

#nonnies galore #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #marisol no last name #911 speculation #911 spoilers #slow burns are hard to watch ya'll #but the pay-off in the end? #soooo incredibly worth it! #hang in there Buddie fans #I'm still securely riding the Buddie train #destination endgame

[peachsodah]

wine gfs <3

#6/7/22 #sandy stardew valley #sandy x emily stardew valley #emily stardew valley #stardew valley #stardew valley fanart #digital art #sdv emily #sdv sandy #wlw #lesbians #peachsoda art #I feel like this one isn’t as good as the others but oh well

[magicicephoenix]

i need to go pound joey drew into a pulp RIGHT NOW

#diction dump #joey drew #batim #HIS SPEECH AT TBE END OF BATDR MAKES ME JDLABRLELWL #SCREAMINF AT TVE SCREEN #JUST SHUT!! UPP!!! #okay i’m normal now. i hate him so much #he praises audrey about being his first creation of life when the ink demon is literally RIGHT THERE. #like. do you want to be good or not?? of course bendy kills you! you’re being an asshole! you suck!! #oh my godd i need to fling him around a room ragdoll style. crush him into smithereens. rrrgrghh #he comes across so disingenuous.. like. i don’t care if audrey’s your precious shining moonlight. she’s also The One Who Came Out Right. #meanwhile The One Who Came Out Wrong is SEETHING with hatred for you! do you not see the consequences of your words?! #“i know you’re in there” like the ink demon isn’t sentient?? like audrey’s just stuck someWHERE not with someONE? #and bendy’s so so angry. of course he is! his creator (well. a copy of him) is saying TO HIS FACE that he’s just a monster. a mistake. #that he’s NOTHING. and most infuriatingly that this stupid OTHER who had the privilege of coming out right is EVERYTHING! #why does she get that? why did she get so lucky? where was all this compassion when it was him? why did he never feel this love? #and so he lashes out. obviously. all he’s ever been is a monster because all he’s ever been TAUGHT is how to be a monster #and who taught him that? who forced him into that? that’s right. the biggest monster around. #so i’m sorry if i don’t find your little speech to be heartfelt joey. you’re a long way away from saying anything truly GOOD. #phew. okay. needed to get that off my chest.

[badolmen]

I don’t know who needs to hear this but obsessing over and labeling every aspect of your human experience isn’t healthy or productive or conducive to the human nature of growth and change.

Free blocklist in the notes <3 have you considered that you may be a part of the problem?

#ra speaks #personal #real bean talk #but like. if you want to use labels for everything that’s great - fandom labels/preference labels/etc. are all well and good #IF if they make you feel happy and supported by a community of similar people #BUT if that ‘community’ of ‘similar people’ is so rigid and self canibalizing that you don’t feel like you can drop that label #without risking retaliation…that’s not good or healthy and you need to drop everything and run #I’ve seen it in vegetarian circles and hunting clubs and fitness trainers #I’ve seen it in fandom ship communities. I’ve seen it in sports team fans. if you are genuinely afraid/anxious abt the reactions #‘your people’ will have if you either aren’t constantly hyper vigilant to confront ‘the others’ #or lose interest or change your opinions #thats not a community that’s a culture of fear and violence that’s going to chew you up and shred you to bits because that’s all it knows #sorry I saw some fandom wank on my dash and it was like. oh you people actually treat this silly stuff with extreme paranoia #like a full on dogwhistles and ‘xyz but STEALTH signals’ kinda stuff you normally see for like. terfs and white supremacists. #but for the most vanilla and not that rare shipping pair in a mid tier fandom #this wasn’t some small post either it had 2k+ notes like 👀 have you maybe considered taking a step back and reevaluate your choices #t*rfs if you even look at this I am throwing you in one of those terrifying boat rides they have at carnivals #labels like ‘gender critical’ in your bio mean you ascribe to the predatory label groups I’ve described in my tags #if you bother to read my tags this isn’t about queer labels specifically I didn’t even mention them bc there are already posts abt that #microlabels and other labels are good if they make you feel good but have the choice to not use them or change them if you change #love light and lignification <3