#i curl up into a ball and think about this. this will be. such a long fic to write LOLLL

[rainylana]

“I know I’m going to.”

Eddie munson x female reader

warnings: sex in a graveyard, slapping, name calling, dirty, quick sex.

The thing about sex you liked the most was the fact you could do it anywhere and anytime, most places, anyways. The movies, the parking lot of a grocery store, the record shop. It didn’t matter where. Eddie was good at sex. Great. Absolutely mind blowing. So really, it didn’t matter where you did it, but the thrill of being caught always excited the both of you.

And this was new.

With flashlights and racing hearts, Eddie and you held hands through the graveyard on the south side of Hawkins, following along the path as it became less and less remote. You giggled like immaturely, horny as hell and ready to get it on.

“This is a good spot.” Eddie pulled your arm to a stop. “Whatcha think?”

You fought to catch your breath, nodding as you put your hands on your hips. “Yeah, looks good enough. Doubt anyone is gonna come wonderin’ this way.”

“I hope they do!” Eddie smacked your ass, causing you scream gleefully. You both laughed into each other’s mouths when you began kissing, falling to the ground in a heap. You shrugged off his jacket and he kicked off his boots while he took off your shirt.

“Keep my skirt on.” You husked. “Incase someone comes.”

“I know I’m going to.” Eddie winked, lifting up the fabric of your pink, frilly skirt that was too short for the imagination. His imagination.

“Grab my cock, baby.” He undid his belt and pushed his jeans and his boxers down passed his ass in a swift movement, bringing up his hands to grab your face.

The grass was cold against your back, your head only but a few feet to a grave named Mrs. Thompson. You mentally apologized for desecrating her plot. The stairs were out and the sky was clear, a bit of humidity in the air that made the crickets chirp loudly.

You grabbed him with a warm hand, causing the grip he had in your face to tremble. He kissed you hard and passionately as you stroked him.

“I’m ready.” He reached between your legs to grab his dick. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

You did as he asked and wrapped your body around his torso, closing your eyes in pure joy as he aligned himself at your entrance, tongue out and black curls falling past his face. Your moan echoed in the night air when he pushed inside you, his body coming back down to push against your chest.

He grabbed both of your hands and placed them beside your head, bringing his lips to catch yours in a hot kiss. He thrusted in and out of you quickly, messily, making you both sweaty and shaky very very quickly.

“Fuck,” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “Oh, Eddie!”

“Yeah?” The sound of skin slapping together, the scenery and the noises you were making, it was all very pornographic. “Huh? Feel good, huh?”

“God, I’m gonna cum!” You praised his name under your breath, the feeling of coming undone getting closer and closer, your belly, tighter and tighter like a drum.

“Cum, bitch.” He slapped your face, making you yelp and bite your cheek. “Cum, for daddy.”

He felt his balls tighten and he whimpered. “Ah,” He cried, falling on top of you as he shot his load into your pussy. You gushed under him, crying and whimpering. Your legs, shaky and numb, fell off of his sides and into the cold ground.

“Christ.” He rolled off of you, searching for your hand with his. He laughed, looking over at you. “You good?”

You chuckled, breathlessly, “I’m good, Ed. I’m so good.”

#lana’s shit post #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #smut #eddie munson x female character

[surielstea]

Kitty Cat | Drabble

Pairing: Modern!Az x Fem!Reader

Summary: A normal night for Azriel, his wife, and his son (a cat.)

Warnings: the briefest mention of oral (m receiving) but it’s all fluff :)

1.1k words

The black cat was curled into a ball, lying on my stomach as I petted between his ears and he purred, small vibrations coming from Shadow. “Aren’t you just the cutest kitty ever?” I hum as the cat looks up at me with wide golden eyes, his ears cocking at the pitch of my voice.

“Your dad’s gonna be home with more treats I promise,” I smile at the cute animal and he meows in reply, I giggle and scratch under his chin. “But you like me more than him don’t you?” I grin wildly.

The door knob rattles and me and the cat both look in the direction of the noise, and within a second my husband enters with three grocery bags in his hands.

“Welcome home,” I raise my arms in a cheer. “No hug today?” He frowns, missing the usual embrace I gave him every time he came home. “I’m a little preoccupied,” I gesture down to the kitten who couldn’t be bothered to spare a glance at his original owner.

Azriel only shook his head and walked into the kitchen where he set the bags and his briefcase down then quickly returned, coming back to the living room and pulling his tie loose then undoing the first few buttons of his collared shirt, revealing his dark tattoos. I smiled and reached my hand out toward him as he approached my side.

“Isn’t he so cute?” I croon, looking down at the kitten. “Are you talking about me or the cat?” Azriel arches his brow. “The cat,” I giggle, looking up at him. He scoops Shadow off my stomach and I whine, missing the comfort of the animal. “I bought you treats, and you repay me by stealing my wife?” He holds the kitten in one of his large hands, holding him up to his face as he narrows his eyes on the dumbfounded kitten. “He’s innocent!” I defend and Azriel shakes his head placing the cat by my feet.

“Shadow’s a war criminal, don’t let him fool you.” My husband jokes in a serious tone before flipping over me, slowly lowering down so as not to crush me as he rests his head on my chest, his waist between my thighs, replacing himself with the cat.

“How was your day?” I ask as my hand weaves into his dark hair. “Better now that I’m home,” He says, stuffing his nose into my breasts and I chuckle, twirling a lock of his hair around my ring finger.

“How about you?” He propped his head up to look at me. “The usual,” I shrug. “Cleaned around the house, played with Shadow— oh I found a movie for us to watch that I think you might like,” I grin excitedly. “It’s a horror.” I sing.

“But you don’t like horrors,” He tilts his head and I smile. “I know but, you do,” I shrug. “Besides, we watch what I want all the time, and this one actually seemed interesting,” I explain and a smile pulls at his lips, he leans up and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I love you,” He whispers against my mouth and I blush at the three simple words, he was my husband and yet he still had me going pink. “Love you too,” I murmur.

I hear a familiar meow and then look to Shadow who had climbed up Azriel’s back and was staring at me from over his shoulder. I giggle and remove my hand from Azriel’s hair in order to pet the kitty. “I love you too Shadow,” I reassure and he leans into my hand, licking my palm with closed eyes.

“Okay, go change I’ll get the movie ready,” I say, shooing him off of me and he groans, guiding Shadow off his shoulder and down onto the floor before getting off me and disappearing into our bedroom.

While he’s gone I turn the TV on and find the movie, then I get up from the sofa and walk into the kitchen, unpacking the groceries— tossing Shadow a few treats that Az just bought, while I wait.

I put a pack of popcorn into the microwave and watch impatiently through the window like a child. “It’s not going to cook any faster if you stare at it,” Azriel hums as he snakes his arms around my waist, his bare chest coming into contact with my back. I turn to look up at him, dark tattoos twining from his forearms to his collarbone, the same ones I’ve traced thousands of times.

“I put the groceries away,” I utter, running a fingertip down the ink on his neck. “And I found that you got me my favorite chips,” I smile, biting into my lower lip. “I noticed we were out,” He shrugs, hands on my hips. “You’re getting the sloppiest head for that,” I say innocently, pecking his lips, leaving him utterly stunned.

I smirk mischievously and the microwave beeps. I swirl around and take the hot bag out, pouring the buttery snack into one large bowl.

Azriel plops himself down onto the couch and I find my spot next to him, tucking my legs up to my chest as I lean into him and he starts the movie.

I had been so confident in myself for picking this movie in broad daylight but now that it was dark outside and the lights in the house were off, I was starting to doubt my fear tolerance.

Azriel wrapped an arm around me as I anxiously snacked on the popcorn balanced on my knees.

A few jumpscares and a minor heart attack later I was officially terrified and had my head stuffed into Azriel’s chest, my other hand over my eyes, peeking through my fingers and barely watching the screen. I look up to Azriel who had an amused grin on his face as he observed me, how I cuddled a little closer to him every time the suspenseful music picked up, or how I looked at him instead when the killer showed up on screen, watching through the reflection of his eyes.

“I’m starting to think this was a bad idea,” I confess, frowning up at him. “I think this is the best idea you’ve had in a while my love,” He presses a hard kiss to my temple. “It was my idea to get Shadow!” I defend, and as if on queue the cat jumps up onto the couch, meowing. “Now that was a bad idea,” He hums as the kitty burrows into his other side.

The three of us all cuddled up, sharing the intimate moment. I intertwined my hand with Azriel’s and cherished the warm feeling blooming in my chest. “Oh shut up, you love him,” I rolled my eyes and the cat looked up at me, kneading his paws into Azriel’s torso. “I do,” My husband rubbed the top of his head and the cat purred, nuzzling into his owner's touch.

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#acotar #suriels tea #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #acomaf #request #bat boys #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #cat #modern azriel #modern acotar #x you fluff #x you #he’s so cute #Azzie #reader insert #fem reader

[hypnoneghoul]

If I could make a request, could we pretty please get a bit of Swiss taking care of a sick Phantom?

(Guess who got woken up at 4:23am by food poisoning? 😗✌️)

damn dude that sucks :(

I hope you feel better soon, but in the meantime i scribbled something for ya. it's very fucking silly so I hope you smile a little bit heheh enjoy

He is dying. He’s sure of it, that must be it.

What else could it be?

That’s all Phantom is thinking about, absolutely not tying the worrying amounts of cheese he ate with Rain the day before to his current state of true agony. Just a tummy ache, actually, but it is agony.

The quintessence ghoul is curled up in his bed with his favorite plushie squeezed tight to his chest. He doesn’t want to get up, he can’t waste any remaining energy if he wants to attempt to survive. Phantom is whining and whimpering as if someone was at the very least kicking him in the balls every five seconds. He must’ve learned his theatrics from Rain.

Finally, a savior comes. Most likely alerted by his cries—or absence at breakfast—Swiss comes knocking on his door. “Hey, bug? What’s up?”

Phantom cries out louder, “‘m dying, Swiss.”

The multi ghoul furrows his brows—actually worried—before coming into the room to assess the damage. “What’s wrong?”

“Feel like ‘m being stabbed from the inside,” Phantom whines, throwing an arm over his eyes in the act of utmost dramatics. Swiss comes closer, relaxing at the sight that the quintessence ghoul is not actually in the process of passing away. “‘Tis the end, Swissy.”

He snorts loudly at that and rolls his eyes at Phantom’s offended scoff and another whimper. “Where does it hurt?” Swiss asks.

“Tummy,” the other mumbles. The multi ghoul crawls into the bed and over Phantom to slot himself against his back. He’s very obvious in his attempt to conceal the purr that’s just begging to be let out at the comfortable warmth and Swiss’ scent that’s washing over him.

If he’s dying, he can’t be purring…right?

“You ate cheese with Rain, didn’t you?” Swiss chuckles and Phantom gasps. How did he know?

He asks as much, whining, “How did you know?”

“Bug, I’ve been Topside for a while now,” he laughs. “If someone’s dying of a tummy ache they have most definitely eaten cheese with Rain. He’s a damn cheese monster and nobody but him can handle that.”

Phantom loses the fight and giggles at that, too, “He really is crazy about cheese.”

“Totally,” Swiss mutters into the back of his neck. He puts his big hands over the smaller ghoul’s stomach and spreads his fingers to cover as much space as possible. It’s not very hard to achieve with their size difference. He tunes into his fire part, then, and kicks up his heat.

This time Phantom can’t help but break out into a loud, rumbly purr.

“You’re not dying, you’ll be fine,” Swiss informs him. “Take advantage of your big hot water bottle boyfriend for a while and then we’ll get you something to drink and eat. Not cheese.”

“Keep Rain away from me,” the quintessence ghoul whines, but there’s a playful tone in it.

He’s fine.

“Sure, sure,” Swiss laughs, squeezing that little bit of fat on his belly. “I’ll protect you from the cheese monster, bug.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan smut #eventual smut #alternate universe #cod au

[devilstruly]

DETANGLED

pairing - sakusa kiyoomi x fem. reader (with any hair type that isn't pin straight)

summarization - you are frustrated when you meet with your best friend and he's tired of you speaking badly about yourself

includes - mutual pining, dogs shipping their owners, rich boy kiyoomi, sexual tension (+ anything i might've missed)

a/n - please accept my sincerest apologies bc this is incredibly self indulgent 😭😭. i wrote this on a bad hair day and i just kept thinking about kiyoomi and his pretty hair. also both he and reader have dogs. kinda short, not my best work. again apologies

A cold wind blows through the streets, sending a part of Sakusa's coat flying behind him. The man inevitably shivers as he buries his nose deeper into the knitted scarf and balls his gloved hands into fists.

Above his head, the sky is a very soft shade of gray, with the clouds so thickly condensed into a barrier for the sunlight. Across the dog playground a loud bark can be heard, the sound feeling all too familiar to the man.

He smiles softly beneath his mask when he sees the energetic doberman, happily approaching his friend. And soon enough, the owner joins Sakusa's side as well.

'Hi!' You greet him with a smile when you take your place on the man's right, with your back leaning against the metal fence.

'About time.' Sakusa's remark earns him an eye roll and he can't help gloating a little on the inside.

'Listen I almost had a mental breakdown over my hair you should be lucky I even got here.'

With a huff you cross your arms over your chest, blowing away a stray hair that disrupted your view. To your surprise however, Sakusa turns to face you, eyes roaming over the strands formed into a very messy updo.

'I told you before, your hair looks fine. You're stressing over nothing. Again.'

'It's not nothing!' You protested. 'I just wish I could make it look prettier. Like get the curls to be defined or something so it's not just a blob.' Your reasoning was followed by another eyeroll, this time accompanied by a small pout.

Sakusa looked in the direction of the two black dogs again and stood quiet for a couple of seconds before he called his pet over. The black shepard rushed over happily, with your doberman trailing behind him.

Once they were seated before the two of you, the man crouched down and secured the leash before turning towards you.

'Let's go.'

'Where?' You questioned while mirroring Sakusa's previous actions and following him through the gate of the playground.

'Just follow me.’ Was the only thing he let be revealed before switching the topic of the conversation. 'How was your day?'

-

Sakusa navigates the busy streets expertly while he keeps up the conversation with you, before his steps come to a halt in front of a store. It's a pet friendly one, of course it is, because even though you're not aware of it, he plans on spending at least forty-five minutes inside.

Brows slightly raised in curiosity, you trail behind him, only to nearly head face first into his broad back when he stops.

'Gah! Warn a woman next time?'

He promptly ignores you and instead reaches out to touch the front strands that fell out of your bun.

'Hm.'

Feeling slightly exposed by his soft touch and the proximity, you do your best at avoiding direct eye contact, which he fortunately doesn't seem notice.

'I think these would work best for your hair type.'

His arm stretches out and places two bottles in the basket he picked up on the way in, before continuing.

'You use the shampoo twice, only on the roots, and the conditioner once, just the ends.'

You can only manage a small nod, feeling kind of clueless with him leading you through the store like this.

'I should've made a list...oh well...these will do.'

He shoves another load of products in the basket and at this point you've given up on trying to be of use, giving him free reign instead.

-

Once the two of you are in line, you instinctively reach for your wallet, assesing the items in the man's hands.

'What do you think you're doing?'

His voice is as smooth and gentle as ever, and his dark eyes fix on yours so intensely that you want to slap yourself for all the inappropriate thoughts that run through your mind.

'You're not seriously thinking of paying for all of this!'

'I brought you here, it's only fair.'

'Kiyo-'

'End of discussion.'

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n

[mphountitled]

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

Summary: Visiting home brings up old feelings for the boy next door…

Myung Jaehyun x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Boy Next Door AU, Non-idol!AU, Language, Mutual pining, Hyperfeminine!Reader, Childhood friends to lovers, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), dry humping, slight ddlg themes, praise kink, dom/sub themes, Dom!Jaehyun, Needy!Jaehyun, Hyperfeminine!reader, Premature Orgasm, Loser!Jaehyun, Needy sex

The lack of actual boy next door fanfic for Boynextdoor is harrowing...

You did not hate your childhood. In fact, you would venture to say that you should look quite fondly of most of it because most of it had taken place here- in a picturesque wasteland of suburbia, and as you drive through the narrow main road, staring at glimpses of childhood relics, you begin to frown. Every memory was so unequivocally perfect except, maybe, for the ones containing him.

"Can you at least try to sound like you're not going kill yourself while you’re there?" Your best friend's voice drones on from the car speaker. Her words, no matter how valid, elicit an eye roll from you, effectively stopping your journey down memory lane. "It would be awful to have to drive down to your childhood home just because you tried to kill yourself, I refuse to have that be the way you introduce your college best friend to your mother."

"Relax," you affirm in a voice groggy from underuse. Spending an entire 15 hour drive beguiled to your car without any company except for maybe of course your Destiny's Child album and a swelling sea of dread in the pit of your stomach.

This would be the first time in a year that you were visiting your childhood home since you left for college. The first time anyone who mapped the outline of your childhood, would perceive you as the budding, blossoming, depressive adult you have become. You felt like a storm coming back into your picturesque childhood neighbourhood, threatening to sweep everything away. That feeling of dread only doubles when your driveway appears on the bottom of a hill. The cul-de-sac of your childhood with all its trimmed hedges, neat fencing and constantly perfect shudders, sends you hurtling into nostalgia and once again, common ordinary dread.

"What If I just turn the car around right now, would that be bad?"

"I have never met a college student so unhappy to be home-" Your best friend mumbles, "You're going to be living the dream!? Actual balanced meals!? Please take one for the team,"

Almost immediately, her words trigger a rumble of hunger from your stomach and you groan as your car curls into the cul-de-sac. Your heart is hammering in your ear, not for the reasons anyone might think, but because of those memories locked in your childhood. As you drive, you try to keep your eye on your house. Your perfect homely house.

Your eye doesn't even stray to the house beside it!

Honest to God!

Not even once.

"Is there a reason you don't wanna go home so bad?"

"The weather is so bad," you say almost automatically, "I think the line's about to cut,"

"Bitch, you only avoid my line of questioning like this when it's about some dick-"

"Jeez, the weather’s messing with the connection."

"If you drop this call TRUST you will be dealt w-"

"I'll call when I unpack, love you-" when you drop the call, your car is parked in the driveway and your shoulders are slumped over. You contemplate waiting around in the driveway until some relative forcibly pulls you out but that thought is quickly made obsolete when you hear a harsh knocking on the door. Your stress levels gravitate to an all time high as you watch him, waving frantically at you from the other side of the glass. His smile is bright and just as crooked as ever. His wave is frantic and energetic; Jaehyun is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, so unequivocally happy to reunite with his childhood best friend.

His only friend. The return of that voice in your head is one of things you had been anticipating on this trip. Mainly because your childhood had been riddled with so much self esteem issues, your feelings practically metamorphosed into that voice you now hear now. That's all you'll ever be to him. All you've ever been, Your mind remarks in a distasteful spit of venom.

"Get your face off of my windows unless cleaning my car for the foreseeable future is a job you're actually interested in." You say coolly as you slide out of the vehicle. Jaehyun gives space for you to stretch, all while shuffling from one foot to the next, picking at the sleeves of his flannel with a dopey smile like he was one second away from proudly telling you he 'frew up at school'.

"Still as homicidal as ever." He says your name with a familiarity that nearly knocks you unconscious. You focus on lifting your arms to the air, and ironing out tje various aches in your back.

"How long has your ass been waiting here anyway?" It's Jaehyun's turn to nearly evade eye contact at your question. He finds it exceedingly difficult to follow along with what you're saying when you so very clearly have boobs now.

"Since my mom told me you'll be back,” He says before immediately adding, “hey- how long have those been there?" You drop your arms with furrowed brows as you look at him.

"What?"

You await a response that doesn't arrive. Jaehyun only points nonchalantly towards your chest. You look down at your v-neck and back at Jaehyun. "I don't know what you're talking about," you roll your eyes as you shuffle past him.

"YOU HAVE BOOBS NOW?!” He exclaims, “EW-"

You turn around to face him, pushing your acrylic nail into his sternum, "I've always had tits- sh-shut up-"

"You literally finished high school without them. I would have noticed as the tiddy connoisseur, trust me."

You find yourself embarrassed, not by his avid teasing (this is something you've been forced to deal with every single day of your childhood and adolescence,) but you find your stomach warming for completely different reasons. Your Jaehyun-obsessed brain wants to pick apart and dissect his entire statement. Maybe he's finally noticing you now? Maybe this age-old crush will evaporate and metamorphose into something else.

You cannot speak because your nail is still digging intently at his sternum and he's staring down at you, as if waiting for whatever venom laced comeback you had waiting for him.

All you're able to focus on however, is the way in which you're staring intently at each other. For him, this proximity is probably nothing, but for you... "Also when you get in there, please for, the love of God, act surprised."

The spell is immediately broken and you're once again brought back down to earth.

The cul-de-sac.

The driveway.

The afternoon sun, surrounded by a cooling breeze.

"Please don't tell me I'm about to walk into another family dinner," your eyes grew heavy with fatigue at just the mere thought of all your family dinners before. 'Family' being used very loosely because he always somehow found himself in every single one.

"You know how our moms can get," you did. You really did.

"Ugh," you exclaim, trudging up the house steps, "1 hour of this and I'm done." Your hand pauses before the doorknob and you turn to Jaehyun with a bored, almost questioning stare. "Aren't you gonna get my things?"

His grins a wolfish grin before clutching at the t-shirt under his flannel, "Oh how I've missed being bossed around by you-"

"Fuck you-" You chuckle out. Jaehyun only turns his torso sloppily as he continues walking to your car.

"A guy could hope!"

And just like that, that smile is gone. The moment is sour. Because whatever he meant, you knew from childhood experience that it did not mean what you wanted it to.

-

Meeting everyone all at once had been as jarring as you expected it to be. You ceremoniously heeded Jaehyun's advice, acting so completely shocked when your relatives and Jaehyun's family yelled 'Surprise' in unison. Everyone was sporting smiles that crinkled their eyes and arms open for hugs. Before you were made privy to every line of questioning surrounding school, Jaehyun's mom swept you into her arms.

"How's is my daughter in law-" there was no time for her to watch you grow tense at her words because Jaehyun who was lugging your luggage in, calmly affirmed, "She has tits now, apparently-"

"MYUNG JAEHYUN-"

The evening had progressed with all the domesticity that you lacked during college and you found yourself at immense ease throughout dinner. Home is still home. Jaehyun is still Jaehyun. Everything that once was, still is and you took a second after dinner to ruminate in the feelings of comfort seeping into your entire being.

That is until your mother ruined it by inserting a very unnecessary, wholly uncalled for fact during dessert drudgery.

"Any boys on campus?"

"It's campus," you snorted as you stuffed your face with malva pudding, "of course there are boys," Throughout the course of your dinner, Jaehyun, who is dutifully seated directly beside you, has taken to swinging his leg against yours. A provocation from childhood that you almost immediately latch onto until you are both playing a violent game of footsies under the table.

"No boys to smooch on campus," Jaehyun speaks up, petulantly puckering his lips at you. All you're able to do is try and ignore him which proves to be a dangerous feat.

"I should think there's a new boy." Your mom says before pointing at you and Jaehyun with the flick of her utensils, "The primary school crush you two had on each other has gone on for way too-"

"MOM!?"

Your mother's slip of the tongue instantly grabs all of Jaehyun's attention. He's perking up in his seat like a rottweiler at attention with his head snapped in your direction.

"Crush?" His eyes falter, scanning the side of your face as if he was perceiving you anew. All traces of a smile are gone as he dumbly asks "What crush?"

"I've been driving for an insane amount of hours," you begin by pushing yourself out of your dining chair, "I should unpack and get to bed-"

"W-Wait I can help." You glare daggers at Jaehyun, that look alone should be enough to stop him from rising from his seat.

"Don't be rude. Your best friend hasn't seen you in ages" your mother scolds, lightly prompting your hands to curl at your sides, "We'll take care of the dishes."

-

Your ascension up the stairs had been charged with tension and filled with something else entirely. You walk ahead of Jaehyun as if trying to distract yourself from his presence, but everything about him is so completely there, "I can feel you staring at my ass," you mumble, needing to fill the air with something, anything at all as you reach the upstairs landing. "Guilty," he says as he follows you into your childhood room which is much the same.

Jaehyun beelines for your twin bed, almost immediately flinging himself on the childish quilted bedspread. "This place is still the same..."

"So are you actually going to be useful, because if not," you fold your arms as you stare him down, "You can leave?"

His mouth hangs open in a lopsided grin as he reaches around to grab at the very first plushie he finds. One of many.

"You still sleep with these?" He asks instead, as if your question meant nothing at all. He plays idly with the stuffed dinosaur in his hands as he leans his head back against the pillows. Seeing him here, amongst your things, brought an avalanche of nostalgia and a wave of hopelessness. He is still so attractive, even after all these years.

You sigh, "Jaehyun if you're not gonna-"

"So was that true?" There it is. The shotgun question that had been hanging like damp washing between the two of you. With your nerves shot to hell, you decide to lower your behind on the very edge of the twin bed as you busy your hands with folding your clothes. Your back is turned to him but you can feel those piercing, smiling eyes watching you.

"Is what true?"

"C'mon, don't do that,'' there is a noise of shuffling behind you. Your heart hammers in its cage with the dip in the bed sheets and you can feel him seated directly behind you. You look down at your lap to find that he's placed your plushie there, as if to distract you from the fact that his legs were now framing yours, his front pressed against your back.

"You know what," he whispers straight into your ear, sounding as serious as you've ever heard him.

Craning your neck backwards to let your eyes fall on Jaehyun would prove to be a cataclysmic mistake. It only heightens the wobble in your voice as you say, "The crush I had on you was juvenile and childish and frankly didn't mean any-"

"Dude..." he whispers, eyes seemingly boring into every single square inch of your face, "I've dreamt about being your boyfriend since I fucking found out what a boyfriend is." His words knock the breath cleanly out of your lungs and your voice grows quiet as he lifts his hand to the side of your face. "What..."

"Yeah!"

His voice is loud and boisterous but you're still somehow locked tightly in your stupor.

"Nu uh," you mumble, your eyes daringly drifting across his lips, "You're lying?"

"How am I lying, angel?" you suck in a deep breath because his thumb is rubbing dizzying circles against your cheek now and his voice has descended a gravelly octave. He dips his head down, experimentally placing a feathlight kiss on the corner of your bottom lip. So innocent, but charged with so many expletives, the possibilities rush straight to your clit.

Still, you soldier on.

"B-Because remember what you said at our grade 6 dance?"

He's not listening. He's not listening because he's finally got a taste of you and he'd be damned if he didnt get more. Jaehyun cranes your neck until you're facing forward once more and you gasp when his lips descend on the skin between your neck and shoulder. "Enlighten me," he mumbles against your skin, placing more featherlight kisses there before he quickly grows bored and decides to stick out his tongue experimentally. You turn into molten clay in his hands and the whimper that escapes you is borderline pornagraphic. This is the stuff all Jaehyun's previous fantasies are made of.

"W-When you asked me out- you said..." your voice drifts off because Jaehyun can't help but let his right hand reach around until he squeezes your torso impossibly closer. All the pudge, all the skin, all the ways he's been dreaming about having you this close and you were there for the taking this whole time.

"Fuck, I'm obsessed with you…" He says, and he does a very odd thing. He buries his face in your neck and just sniffs. This momentary slip of weakness allows you to regain some of your senses as you say,

"Y-You asked me to be your date," Jaehyun is drunk on the very scent of you now and his cock throbs as he brings you impossibly closer against his lap,

"What else did I say, baby," he wants you to carry on talking. Anything that might distract you from wanting him to leave. Anything that might keep you here just a little longer. His cock throbs at that thought alone and it has him rubbing against your skin like a dog in heat.

"Y-You said you didn't have anyone else to go with-" you suck in a deep breath through your air as Jaehyun's hand venture underneath your shirt. He slithers his hand up in a hurry until his cool fingertips are grazing the flesh of your breasts. Like a crazed adolescent driven by his hormones alone, he pulls your bra down, all while tonguing and licking at your neck like his life depended on it.

"S'sorry," he mumbles incoherently behind you, and his hand on the side of your face cranes your head backwards so that you're facing him once more, "So'so'sorry," he places a sloppy, apologetic kiss on your mouth which immediately triggers a very deep desire that is almost as old as you are.

"I wanted you so bad-" you admit with a gasp, and Jaehyun feels your confession shoot straight down his spine. He plasters his front into your backside, pressing his hips against your ass in an apparent wave of lust.

"I've always needed you," he ventures to admit, pressing his bulge against your backside as if needing to persuade you further.

Those words of affirmation are all you need , all you've needed for a lifetime and you immediately turn until you're lumbering onto him before letting your knees frame his hips. His hands instinctively grip onto, your supple, full hips and the feeling of your softness on top of him alone is enough to have him groaning into the air as his hips stutter up at you.

While you crash your lips against his once more you lift yourself away but his hips follow, "The fuck are you doing!?" He mumbles against your lips before biting lightly at your bottom lip.

"Too heavy," you mumble, "I don't wanna be too hea-"

Your words dissolve in your throat and in its place, a yelp escapes as Jaehyun forcibly pulls you down onto his sweatpants-clad lap. "You did this to me," he says, watching you intently as if scolding you, "You did this to me and now you wanna run away?" He scoffs as his hands begins to guide your hips against his. You're both in very flimsy material. Him in his sweatpants and you in similar attire except your sweatpants were a dusky pink. "Youre so pretty grinding on me like that fuck-" he speaks quickly and fluidly as he leans backward onto your bed, making more space to watch you grind yourself on top of him.

His attention is utterly intoxicating and so you do nothing but listen when he says, "Take your top off, baby-"

You peel the item of clothing off, unclipping your bra with all the speed and sloppiness that came with your lust-filled fog/ Jaehyun doesn't help. He's all too focused on guiding your hips against his, watching you face contort into pleasure.

"Pants," he says, needing to see more of your open-mouthed moans, "Take your pants off," he whispers, "Make a mess on me," he swallows thickly, "Please,"

You lift yourself to momentarily push your sweatpants, Jaehyun lifts himself momentarily to grab at your stuffed animal.

"Whatre you-" When you straddle him again, you're completely naked while he's fully clothed. The juxtaposition only elicits another wave of lust. "Hold this while you ride me," he stuffs your plushie against your chest, watching your mouth hang open as you lower your clit onto his bulge,

"O-Oh my fuck, Jaehyun-"

"Just like that, angel, fuck,' he throws his head back momentsrily stumped by the weight of his pleasure. He's trying to be dominant for you. He's trying to keep his control for you, but you're moving your hips against his, with his bulge between your legs, using him for absolute filth. It ruins him entirely.

His voice cracks when he lifts his head to look up at you and say, "Oh my god, you feel so fucking good, oh my god," When Jaehyun curses, your cunt only presses down harder against him, prompting a needier response out of you.

Jaehyun swallows thickly, "Use me, baby," he says, "F-Fuck, just fucking use me," his hips stutter upwards and his hands on your sides grip you so tightly you know it'll leave marks. "Doing s-so well for me. Youre doing so fucking well-"

He watches with an open mouth at your tits, so pillowy and full, bouncing as you rub yourself against him and he completely loses it.

"Fuck- p-please cum, I need to cum so bad-" Jaehyun gasps, wracking another torrid moan out of you as you descend almost immediately into your orgasm. Jaehyun watches with an open mouth and half lidded eyes, unable to stop himself from fucking up into you. He wraps his arm against your waist and buries his face in your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair and he shivers

"No way you just made me cum in my pants," he is so incredibly overcome with embarrassment, he dreads having to look up at you.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"No, Jaehyun, its-"

"I mean about not being honest sooner. That was bad of me, he mumbles into your chest and you chuckle at his petulance, "I'm sorry,"

"Apology accepted for making me wait so long..."

#boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor smut #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #myung jaehyun #myung jaehyun x reader #myung jaehyun smut

[verthomme]

Adaptive / Para sports that aren't wheelchair basketball!

Wheelchair rugby: very physical, wheelchairs look like battel bots, very rough and very cool I don't know much about the rules of regular rugby either. Tried it once was not for me but very epic to watch

Adaptive curling: played with a stick that attaches to the curling rock so you can play from a seated or standing position, good for those who can't bend over or who require mobility aids

Wheelchair tenis: played just like normal tennis in a sports wheelchair rackets have shorter handles to be easier to push while holding, difference to the rules being that the ball can bounce twice

Adaptive archery: so many different adaptions from shooting in a wheelchair, using prosthetics, mouth release triggers for those without use or with lim differences in arms

Adaptive skiing/snowboarding: good for those with lower lim differences and mobility issues. Adaptions include using one leg with outriggers to balance and stear (both ski and snowboard) sit ski, where your entire lower body is basically in a ski boot, can be used for blind people as well or those with upper body limitations with an assistant controlling the sit ski. Independent sit ski use outriggers for stearing (think like ski poles with little skis on them)

Adaptive rowing: good for all ability levels as well as blind and visually impaired. So many different adaptions for loading into boats, seating supports, adaptive paddles and auditory cues

Adaptive swiming: this has so many different options, swimming is amazing for you it let's you use you body in different ways then weight bearing and there are a lot of options, different flotation devices that can attach to legs or arms, having someone move your lims for you, having a tap signal when you get close to the edge of the pool, visual cues for time, pool lifts just so many different options for everyone

Biking: standing bikes, two seated bikes so people with vision problems can have someone stearing, electric bikes, electric assist with pedaling, strap in pedals, anti tips, tricycles, hand cycles, different levels of seating support, walking bikes, you can ride behind someone in a bike, lots of university's will have indoor bike tracks so that you can ride on flat low resistance ground

Para hockey: this is my sport, I play competitively so I know a lot more about it. Para hockey (also know as sledge hockey) is played sitting down in something called a sledge. You have two sticks with spikes on the ends in order to propel yourself on the ice. There are a bunch of modifications possible for sleds with high back support with straps for those without core control, for those with upper body limitations there are pushers who attach a push handle to the back of your sled in order to move you around the ice, if you have no grip strength you can tape or otherwise secure you sticks to your arms/prosthetic. Rules for para hockey are the same as for stand up hockey with the exceptions being, periodes are 15 minutes and there is an additional type of penalty called Teeing for purposful front of sled contact to another persons sled without angling. Rules wise in grassroots (basic introductory sledge) anyone can play no matter their ability so abled family and friends can join you. Above the intermediate competitive level however, all players must have an impairment that affects their lower body in a way that means they do not have the capacity to play stand up hockey even at a lower level.

Blind hockey: Blind hockey is played pretty much the same as regular hockey, all players have a severe visual impairment/blindness and it is played with a large hollow puck that jingles so players know where it is

Anyone feel free to add more! There are so many different ways to have fun and be active as a disabled person the first step is just learning that they exist!

#adaptive sports #parasports #para sports #para hockey #disability #accessibility #adaptive sport #wheelchair sports #disability sports #adaptive activities #paralympics #blind sports #actually disabled #disabled #physical disability #cripple punk #physically disabled #sensory disability #cripple life #disabled life #alternative sports #sports #activitys #wheelchair #cripplepunk #i really love sports

[causenessus]

binary stars

part 0.5. EQUIPMENT ROOM

NOW PLAYING . . . no other heart by mac demarco

iwaizumi opened the door for them as they arrived.

“how’s he holding up?” hanamaki asked, stepping in first. him and matsukawa both had their usual relaxed faces, with small smiles on their lips. sure, a part of them were worried for their friend's wellbeing but overall they were finding his struggles stupidly entertaining.

“he’s got his head in his hands, grabbing his hair like he’s gonna tear it out but he would never actually do it. not much else,” iwaizumi shrugged, closing the door behind them.

when they saw him, his knees were pulled to his chest and he stared blankly at the wall.

“damn, you messed up that bad?” matsukawa took a seat next to him.

oikawa only curled up into a tighter ball, hiding his face, “yes.”

“you wanna tell us what happened? maybe we can help,” hanamaki offered, sitting on the floor along with iwaizumi so that the four formed a small circle.

“she found out i liked someone and when she asked who i said i couldn’t tell her like an idiot,” oikawa answered. “i want to dig myself a hole and never come out.”

matsukawa and hanamaki shared a look while iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “how’d she find out?” hanamaki asked.

“bokuto said something about it,” iwaizumi answered.

“and now i’m doomed,” oikawa lamented, finally lifting his head up, “how do i come back from this? even if she did like me a little bit before this, now i’ve made it seem like i like someone else and that i don’t trust her.”

iwaizumi only shook his head. he'd already heard all of this before, from both oikawa and y/n.

“she’s not going to give up that easy. you’ve been close friends with her for years, give her a little more credit. and you need to not give up this easy,” iwaizumi said, staring oikawa dead in the eyes.

“yeah, you can still amend this, and you better. try spending more time with her, and act normal with her, or flirt, you’re always doing that with other girls,” hanamaki suggested.

“that’s because i don’t care about them,” oikawa ran his hands through his hair with a sigh, “it’s all fake when i flirt, but when i’m with her, i’m just all open with my feelings, you know? i can’t flirt when i’m like that, and even if i do, what if she thinks i’m just toying with her? that’s even worse.”

“well then, it sounds like you really like her,” matsukawa caught oikawa’s gaze, “do you want to tell her or not? if you’re serious about this, then that’s more reason to fix this. make her know that things are normal between you guys, which will show her that you’re still comfortable with her. then, get closer to her.”

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

at certain times iwa gets so fed up and is on the verge of saying things like "OFC SHE FUCKING TEXTED ME ABOUT WHAT YOU FUCKING TEXTED HER SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU YOU BLIND ASSWIPE" but he knows if he says anything like that he'll just get "oh that can't be 🥺 she would never like me blah blah woe is me" and has just given up 

when tooru texted y/n she saw what he had texted her a few days ago again which only continued to make her feel conflicted about how he was treating her

tooru genuinely cannot and will never flirt with yn bc he wants to be all sweet and honest with her he never wants to even act like he's toying with her

hinata is begging takeda and kiyoko for another practice match with seijoh bc he wants to see y/n again <3

taglist: @anonnreader777 @daisy-room @deluluforcarlos55 @eggyrocks @hikikaimar @httpakkeiji @intergalacticrory @localgaytrainwreck @mitfloya @reallyvexin @sunarins @usermins @yenonnoff @wyrcan (form to be added to taglist <3)

#oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

[heluvschibi]

Destined (Meant to be) (pt2) (1)(2)

idol!Chan x fem!reader

[edited]

Des: Ever since you were little you guys were friends. Why? Because our parents were also friends. So, you can imagine the happiness and shock when your parents and his parents found out we were both due on the same. Day. And for 26 years of your life all you heard was "You guys were destined, meant to be."

A/N: I did change the writing style. :]

•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘

I opened my door and plopped down onto my bed, closing my eyes. "That was embarrassing…" I mumbled to myself in my dimly lit room, illuminated by a single small lamp on my desk.

I closed my eyes and started to think about what happened at dinner…

•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘

10 minutes earlier

Everyone was laughing and eating… all except me. I had hoped to see Chris again, but… it's just embarrassing.

He left to pursue his dreams of becoming an idol, and I'm still here at home—the same home for the longest time.

I wanted to be a vet and help animals, but when Chan left, everything went downhill. At college, I was kicked out because someone took my position. Like, what!?

And when I applied for another college, I didn't have any money for tuition, so I dropped out. I'm 26 years old… and I still live with my parents.

I glanced over at Chan as he casually chatted with my parents.

"Chris, I'm—we're proud of you," my mom exclaimed. The scoff was supposed to be in my head, but I guess I let it out into the air.

All the clinking of utensils stopped, the chatter died down, and all their attention was now on me…

"Y/n, would you like to say something?" My mom's voice was stern.

"No…" I took one last bite of my food before standing up. "I'm done with dinner."

As I walked away, I heard my dad's voice mumbling something.

•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘

Chan's POV

"I'm sorry about her; she's just really happy to see you," Y/n's dad tried to reason, offering a small smile. I glanced at her mom, noticing the frustration etched on her face.

"So, is she a veterinarian yet?" I asked, attempting to lighten the mood. Her parents exchanged a look, then turned back to me, their silence speaking volumes.

"She tried many times. Her first college accepted her, but her spot was taken… and the other college? She couldn't afford the tuition, so she dropped out. We offered her money, but she refused to take any from us… and well, you see where she is now," her mom said, her voice trailing off as she looked down at her plate, covering her face with her hands. "I feel like it's all my fault. As a mother, I should've encouraged her to pursue her dreams, to accept the help…" Tears began to stream down her face, and Y/n's dad wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head and murmuring, "You did everything you could."

"Oh…" I exhaled, turning my gaze to the stairs. "May I be excused?"

Y/n's dad nodded, and I stood up, walking towards the stairs, the house's layout etched in my memory from countless sleepovers and parties. Her room should be at the end of this hall…

I raised my hand and knocked softly on the door. "Y/n, it's me." The doorknob resisted, half-turned—was it locked?

"Can you unlock the door?"

Shuffling sounds came from inside, followed by a click. I smiled and pushed the door open. Her room was almost as I remembered it, other than the Stray Kids merchandise scattered about. She was curled up in a ball, her back to me.

"Y/n, are you okay?" I asked gently, trying not to sound threatening. She hummed in response, and I rolled my eyes playfully before sitting down on her bed. "Come on, we're not five anymore… you know how to use words."

"I'm fine," she mumbled, her voice muffled. I leaned over her coiled form to see her clutching a WolfChan plush. Smiling, I leaned down and hugged her. She tensed at first but gradually relaxed.

"What's wrong, hm?" I whispered into her neck, her familiar scent enveloping me, her sweet perfume enhancing the tenderness of the moment.

"My parents probably already told you," she spoke softly, sighing.

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you…"

•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘ꕤ•˙∘

me posting everything BUT Oh he's just a nerd.

-heart from Straykids <3

thank you and, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight!!-Chibi

#stray kids #chibi posted!! #skz stay #bang chan #stray kids channie #skz channie #christopher bang #destined ff #kpop x fem reader #kpop bg #kpop #OMG FINALLY!!! #skz #skz bang chan #bangchan fanfic #straykids fluff #straykids #bang chris

[the-bitter-ocean]

(ACT 3 SPOILERS) Hi so I decided to write a little Drabble based on @startagainaprologue really good Bonnie looping Au aka as In Recipes and Repetition (IRAR) !! This is set roughly around the beginning of act 4. Wanted to write something that takes place after the events of the end of act 3 in the context of the Au, Authors notes about the writing itself under the cut:

( You wake up.)

( You’re back.)

( You stare sadly at the field of veggies.)

( You grip the wooden fence so hard it nearly splinters in your hands.)

( You…you…you!)

( You collapse unto the ground and scream. )

(You start crying. )

(“…F-Frin…!”)

(You curl up in a ball and hold yourself.)

(You feel sick.)

(Your body is still sore.)

(You close your eyes and all you can see is the king hurting your family over and over an-)

( …!)

(You hear footsteps approaching you.)

“…Bonnie? You okay?”

“.. Quit it dummy not too close!”

“Maybe we should go get help from someone? Like the adults maybe?”

( The really quiet artist who likes to give you a drawing every loop frowns and shakes their head in response. )

“…mm-mm..”

“..My papa is still working at the bakery right now..”

“..Maybe a frog might make them feel better..?”

( A group of children huddle around you. They look worried. )

Okay so my thought process is that I think over the course of the loops Bonnie would befriend and talk to the other children in Dormont. In this loop they find Bonnie freaking out and crying for Siffrin so they all work together to cheer Bonnie up. Eventually the kids would take Bonnie to go see Siffrin, to give Bonnie the peace of mind they clearly needed/ Siffrin gives Bonnie a hug.

I think it’s cool when aus actually incorporate the npcs in the game and have them do things/ interact with the other characters and I’m a sucker for focusing on people who have little to no screen time because it allows me to get very creative. Anywho here’s everyone, the first three names are canonical to the game the last three are my HCS of what the npcs names are since it wasn’t given in game:

Charlene Choquette -> Bakers Daughter

Manon -> Wizard Loving Kid

Agathe -> Tutorial Kid

Jacquelyn “Jackie” -> Frog loving kid

Celine -> Sky loving kid

Bellamy -> Drawing kid

#in recipies and repetition #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat act 3 spoilers #the bitter ocean writes #isat fanfic #in stars and time #in stars and time game #isat #isat game #in stars and time fanfic #isat au #in stars and time au #bonnie looping au #isat bonnie #in stars and time bonnie

[somber-sapphic]

I’ve been laid up in bed all weekend with some chest thing. I think my body is trying to get bronchitis. I just want Maya and Carina to take care of me. Any chance you could write a Marina taking care of reader for me?

Waiting For Morning

〖Summary: Carina and Maya watch over you while you sleep.〗

〖Word Count: 795〗

〖Pairing: Marina x sick R〗

〖Notes: Hi anon! I'm sorry you're not feeling well :(. Drink lots of fluids, rest and please go to the doctor if you need to. I hope this helps you feel a little better <3〗

“Maybe we should take them in,” Maya whispered, trying very hard not to disturb you from your fitful slumber. You had finally managed to fall asleep, but it wasn’t restful in the slightest. You were still coughing even in your sleep, it was a wheezy rattling sound that took so much energy out of you. 

She had told you to keep an eye on that cold, Carina had done the same. When they had first started to fuss over you it felt so unnecessary. The common cold was something you could brush off. Until it wasn't. Something about this cold had been different, you hadn’t thought much about the clinging cough but when the fever struck you knew something was wrong. 

“No, not yet. They need to rest. We’ll keep an eye on their breathing and temperature, if it gets worse we can take them.” Carina replied, shifting ever so slightly to help you get more comfortable. She had surrendered herself as a living body pillow hours ago, abandoning the nice dinner that she had been attempting to cook. 

Maya didn’t seem convinced; her face had been pinched into a concerned expression since you had started to deteriorate and she refused to leave your side. While you clung to Carina she clung to you, worried that something would go wrong the second she took her eyes off you. 

“They’ve been getting worse!” Maya hissed, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, periodically brushing a thumb against your cheek. 

It was something she’d started to do after you’d had a nightmare and she picked up the habit after noticing how well it calmed you down. Now, whenever you were stressed, had a bad dream, or were sick she’d stroke your cheekbone and brush your hair behind your ear. The combination always worked. 

You stirred, waking to a coughing fit that just couldn’t be ignored. You curled yourself into a ball and coughed into Carina’s side, not fully aware of her surroundings. The brunette didn’t protest, she and Maya just rubbed your back and waited for the fit to pass. 

When you finally pealed your eyes open with a small sniffle you looked up into the face of the doctor who smiled back at you. For a moment you considered apologizing but you were too tired. You knew she didn’t care anyway so apologizing wouldn’t matter. 

“Hello, my love. How are you feeling?” You grunted in response and shrugged, rolling to your other side to face Maya. The blonde kissed your forehead and the tip of your nose, doing her best to make you smile. It worked, it always worked. Even when she was stressed Maya could always make you smile. 

“Time’sit?” You croaked, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. The small movement made you dizzy, and you regretted whatever urge decided that you needed to move in the first place. Your whole body hurt, your lungs aching alongside the rest of your muscles. 

“A little past two in the morning. Can you tell us how you’re feeling?” Maya asked moving closer, to help prop you up. You leaned against her and shrugged again, already letting your eyes shut for another moment.

“Not great. Why’re you guys still up?” You reached blindly for Carina, hitting her lightly until you found her hand to hold. Her hands were soft and warm in contrast to Maya’s calloused palms. The two were polar opposites, sometimes it surprised you that they managed not to kill each other at the beginning of your relationship. 

“It’s hard to sleep when someone you love is sick,” Carina said, cringing at her words. “God that was corny, wasn’t it?” Maya laughed and your lips quirked up in a smile. It was corny, but you loved it. 

“It was pretty bad.” You admitted, lowering yourself back against the pillows. This time you dragged Maya with you so that you were sandwiched more comfortably between your girlfriends. You sniffled tiredly and shivered, your discomfort reemerging. 

Carina brought the blanket up over your shoulders and Maya kissed your shoulder, both of them doing the best they could to help you feel better. 

“If you aren’t breathing better in the morning we’re going to Grey Sloan.” The brunette decided, her anxiety winning over what she knew was likely something that could clear up on its own. She was okay with being overprotective when it came to you. Maya nodded her agreement, but you had already started to fall asleep again, not noticing her reaction. 

“Get some rest for now. We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.” The firefighter wrapped an arm around your waist, spooning you against Carina. The three of you lay like that in a warm cocoon, your girlfriends joining you in sleep only moments later. 

#sickfic #sick fanfiction #sick reader #fever whump #maya bishop #maya x carina x reader #maya x carina #carina deluca #carina deluca x reader #marina x reader #marina #sick fanfic #sick you #sick y/n #sick character #caretaker #station 19 sickfic

[film-in-my-soul]

ehehe kicking down the door of your inbox to ask for icemav and t for toys

-> Cockring, Hand Job, Rimming, Blow Job (mentioned) <-

T is for Toys

Ice knows it's better not to give in to Maverick when he's being intentionally annoying or trying to actively goad Ice into playing whatever game he's started without warning. But there's little use in trying since Maverick barely waits for Ice to close the door to his house, twisting his hands into the collar of Ice's ratty workout shirt and dragging him into a kiss. Maverick uses his body, compact and hot, to bully Ice back, undeterred as it takes Ice a second to find his footing and get with the program.

It's not until Ice's knees hit his mattress and he has a lapful of five foot six, persistent aviator pulling back to smirk down at him, dangerous even on the ground, that he realizes he's been played. The Iceman is stone cold, firm, and unyielding, but when there's a pert ass right above his rapidly filling cock, a hand in his hair, and a tongue in his mouth, well, the Iceman can't help but melt.

Just his luck that Maverick had learned that secret all too easily and isn't above using that knowledge when there's something he wants and is intent on Ice to give him.

"Did you know the record for male orgasms in one day is twelve?"

Ice knows not to engage; he knows that there's trouble dancing in Maverick's eyes and purpose on his tongue, but the smaller man pulls himself even tighter against Ice and drags his mouth over the shell of Ice's ear, breath hot and lips soft from their kissing.

"How close do you think I can get?"

The shiver that runs down Ice's back is both involuntary and obvious, given the way Ice feels Maverick's mouth curl into a knowing smirk as he shifts down to nip at Ice's jaw. Ice's grip on Maverick's hips tighten, and though Maverick won't push him to try, won't do more than tease and whine about Ice being boring if he doesn't indulge what Maverick is clearly wheedling for, it's too late. Already, Ice's thoughts drift to the bedside table where he keeps his slick and condoms, where beneath a box of tissues and his emergency flashlight is something he's used once or twice and had bought on a whim.

It's either fate or Maverick's habit of snooping while Ice is in the shower that's brought this entire situation to fruition. And where Ice might have at least tried to put up a good show of making Maverick work for it, Maverick's got his mouth latched to Ice's collar and is mindlessly grinding his ass over Ice's dick. There's nothing to do but tip them both to the mattress and get on with it.

Maverick beams at Ice, sprawled across the bed where Ice has rolled them.

Ice runs his hands under Maverick's shirt and gets a knee between Maverick's thighs. "Let's find out.

They don't have a hop in the morning anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maverick doesn't make a comment when Ice pulls out the cockring after he's sucked Maverick off and fingered him to orgasm (two down, and many more to go if Maverick gets his way), which only lends credence to Ice's assumption that the ambush was planned. Too good of timing and too ready to throw down the challenge.

Regardless, Mavericks' excitement is evident by the fact he doesn't quip about Ice not being able to pace himself or keep from shooting off. He doesn't even tease Ice for owning it (Ice had been out of town, a little buzzed, and the worker at the sex shop hadn't blinked twice at him when he'd put it on the counter.) All Maverick does is make a begrudging sound when Ice hauls him off by his hair so he can get the silicone locked snuggly around the base of his dick and around his balls.

Uncomfortable for only a moment while he adjusts, Ice distracts himself by taking himself in hand and stroking from base to tip slowly, amused by the hungry look in Maverick's eyes. He tugs once on Maverick's hair when the brunet moves to duck back down to mouth at him some more.

"Blowing me doesn't exactly add to the tally, Mav." Ice wishes it did since the next best place that isn't a cockpit is Maverick's mouth, but that's not what Maverick has asked for, and despite the ridiculousness of the objective, Ice is nothing if not goal-orientated. If Maverick wants to get as close to twelve orgasms as possible before he physically can't anymore, Ice will get him there.

Maverick seemingly comes to the same conclusion. He throws himself down on the sheets and hooks his hands behind his knees, lifting them up toward his ears to be exposed without shame. Ice stifles a groan, Maverick's hole shiny from lube and twitching with want. He has to take his hand off his dick because even with the ring keeping his orgasm tempered, Ice won't risk dragging himself to the point where keeping it on is no longer an option.

Crawling forward, between Maverick's spread thighs, Ice replaces Maverick's hands with his own biceps, crooking Maverick's legs over his elbows to haul his bottom half off of the mattress until he can sling Maverick's thigh onto either side of his neck, loving how Maverick's body stretching taut, the position forcing him to brace on his shoulders, head thrown back to balance, hands scrambling to compensate.

Ice doesn't enjoy the taste of lube, but the promise of musky heat to bury his tongue in supersedes that minimal distaste, and Maverick's cry as he drives into his already stretched entrance washes away the lingering synthetic flavor.

By the time Maverick is clenching around Ice's tongue and the finger he'd added once the begging started, Ice's jaw and shoulders are sore. He has to exert more strength than normal, what with Maverick thrashing and trying to rock himself against his mouth, so when he finally lowers Maverick's body back to something more comfortably horizontal, Ice has to stretch out his arms. It allows Ice a moment to check Maverick over, pleased with his glassy eyes and fuck-drunk expression slackening his lips as he pants and shakes, a sticky hand still around his spent cock.

"That's three," Ice says, forcing nonchalance into his tone. He replaces Maverick's weak grip with his own, heedless of the overstimulated whine that flies from Maverick's throat. Ice wonders at what point Maverick will start regretting asking him to play this particular kind of game. When he'll understand the power of stamina he's given Ice by not protesting the cockring when he had the chance.

Ice knows that moment is unlikely to come, not with Maverick's slipping coherence and a drive to push his limits weaved beneath his skin so firmly it'll never be shaken loose.

"Let me know when you want to tap out."

Maverick bares his teeth in a display of feral arousal and determination. He's a wild thing in messy sheets, flushed and covered in spend and sweat, the antithesis to Ice's purposeful composure. He ruts up pointedly into Ice's tight fist, wincing without concern and letting out a high laugh that's broken by squeaking yips of pleasure-pain.

"You're gonna have to fuck me unconscious first," Maverick pants, all bravado and blown eyes. "If you can." A not-so-subtle jab at the toy around Ice's cock.

Ice increases the speed of his strokes and bends down to spear his tongue between Maverick's lips, stealing the next slew of sounds and pleas as he slips two fingers back into Maverick's hole to press unrelenting against Maverick's prostate, not stopping even as Maverick locks up and shivers through a fourth orgasm, only half-hard in Ice's hand, choking on a sob.

It's only when Maverick stops twitching and trying to buck Ice off without thought that Ice pulls his hands back and straightens, throwing Maverick's still trembling legs around his waist, tapping his cock against the red-hot ring of muscle he'll be spending the next hour or so ruining. Ice waits for Maverick's tear-rimmed eyes to land on him, slightly unfocused but no less blazing.

"Don't waste your breath worrying about whether I'll last, Mav," Ice lines up and teases his tip into Maverick's body. "This isn't the only toy I've got in the drawer."

#icemav #iceman/maverick #iceman x maverick #top gun ficlet #tg fanfic

[takenbypeter]

Hey! Could you please write a Timothee x wife!reader where they're new parents, and just fluffy moments between them and their baby?

The Similarities Between Us

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 286

Hey hey 👋 I don’t write for like actors I just write for their characters so I think you meant to put Timothee!Wonka but yeah either way I wrote it 🤣

This is a short one but I think the fluffiness in it makes up for it 😉

There he was. Your little baby boy. When he wasn’t crying he was as cute as a button. You watched with your hands curled underneath your chin as you observed the little guy.

The way he balled his fists, the long eyelashes he had, how thick his eyebrows already were you could practically just see it now. You smiled, sleep deprived yet still alert.

“There you are,” you said as your husband Willy Wonka appeared from the corner, “I was beginning to think you ditched me for sleep.”

He placed a few items on the table close by, “you can’t get rid of me that easily,” he said and with a kiss on the top of your head he sat beside you, joining you in your gaze of the newcomer in the family.

“He has your nose,” he says and you share an expression that could only be read as, disbelief.

“Look, it’s just as cute,” he adds, tapping your nose gently.

“Well he has your lips,” you remark, placing a small peck against his lips.

“And I know he’s going to get your eyebrows just give him a few more weeks,” you tease reaching up to brush your husband’s brow.

You two gaze at each other with loving expressions reflecting from both of your faces before you turn back to the baby.

“I just wish we could get some sleep.”

He wraps an arm around you, stroking your shoulder comfortingly, “we will…in a few more years.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Although you were just about desperate for some rest, you were just as excited in this new chapter in your lives and you were excited to share it with Willy, as was he with you.

#willy wonka imagine #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #wonka imagine #wonka fanfic #wonka fanfiction #wonka x reader #wonka 2023

[stuckinapril]

#i am literally curled up in a ball thinking about this image #today is one of those days u guys . my biology textbook has been staring at me

[nyxofdemons]

i'm sorry but stolas bound and powerless and tortured to tears still pushing himself off the ground snarling threats at the man who would dare even mention his daughter. the breathless all-consuming fury that striker would dare to speak a word about her. stolas knows striker is going to kill him and could make it painful beyond imagination and the only thing he cares about in this moment is octavia's safety why the fuck aren't we talking about this scene more

#WHY ARENT WE TALKING ABOUT THIS?? IM GOING TO FUCKING THROW UP #DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HOW FIERCELY STOLAS LOVES OCTAVIA AND NEED TO CURL UP IN A BALL AND SCREAM #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #mine #stolas #octavia #stolas helluva boss #octavia helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss western energy #e: western energy #i made this post because i wanted to say stolas was unbearably sexy for this but now i'm just gonna bang my head against a wall until i die

[meteortrails]

I think a lot about how we only get like one or two scenes of law actually interacting with his little sister, but it’s so glaringly obvious what kind of older brother he was to her through all his interactions as an adult. every time he pulls a morbid prank on the strawhats; the genuine joy of reuniting with his crew; his protectiveness and the way his crew’s safety comes before anything else. it’s so clear what a loving, doting, and insufferable older brother he must’ve been. you know if they grew up together he would’ve done that thing that older siblings do where they lie to you about how the world works and then just let you believe it until you’re like, 25. he would’ve walked her to school and tied her shoes for her and earnestly attempted to help her with her homework. and it kills me a little bit that I don’t think law recognizes that in himself; that the parts of him that were lami’s brother and his parent’s son are still alive and well in who he is today.

#trafalgar law #he makes me wanna curl up around him in a little ball like he’s a stuffed animal. #anyways always thinking about law being an oldest brother in a story full of youngest siblings #even with doflamingo’s crew the older brother energy is so crazy strong and I love that about him #the way he glares at baby 5. I saw that and immediately cracked up bc I’ve seen my younger brother glare at our youngest Exactly Like That #one piece #op meta