#EVIL BITCHES STOP SMILING

[ogatas-beloved]

He sucks so bad I hate him I want to make out with him sloppy style

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[thoughtsbeewild]

Karma is real- Evil queen director has been removed from her evil throne

Alot of former leaders supervisors, managers , employees who this director all the power/title to fire them. Manipulated lies of documentation to help her supervisor best friend and employees.

Will they do an investigation on her? How corrupt she was? How she was smiling taking shameless selfies on getting tenure long time leaders, employees to resign to help her fucking friends. If your director, your job is to make the company successful not HELP GET BONUS TO HIRE YOUR FRIENDS, GET INTEL ON EACH DEPARTMENT TO DEEM WHO YOU CAN FUCKING FIRE AND GET RID OF, SINCE THEY DID NOT KISS YOUR ASS OR HAVE FEAR TO QUESTION YOUR TERRIBLE HORRIBLE LEADERSHIP. TO PROTECT YOUR EMPLOYEE FRIENDS WHO HAVE BEEN DOING A SHITY JOB THATS WHY THE COMPANY IS AT A LOW PERCENT BECAUSE OF YOUR SELFISH CORRUPT HATEFUL LEADERSHIP, THAT NOT ONE TENURE MANAGER, OR GOOD SUPERVISORS LEADERS OR GOOD EMPLOYEES WANTED TO HELP THIS FEMALE DIRECTOR BITCH BE SUCCESSFUL. WE ALL WANT SEE THAT BITCH FALL FIRED. THATS HOW RUTHLESS EVIL OF A SELFIE MOM DIRECTOR BITCH SHE WAS. SHE WOULD POST EMOJI LAUGH HEART ON FACEBOOK BECAUSE SHE HAD TITLE/POWER TO DESTROY YOUR HARD WORK, LIFE OF LIVING FOR MANY FUCKING PEOPLE. SO HEARTLESS DIVORCED BITCH , HOPE THIS GIVES YOU THE SLAP IN THE FUCKING FACE YOU NEED. HOPE YOUR LITTLE FUCKING SUPERVISOR BEST FRIEND AND EMPLOYEE BEST FRIENDS REVEAL WITH HIGH EXECUTIVE LEADERSHIP COMPANY HOW YOU DAMAGED THE COMPANY WITH YOUR HATEFUL DECISIONS TO REMOVE GOOD PEOPLE SO YOUR FRIENDS BE THERE.

[aakeysmash]

christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts

college!sukuna masterlist

"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.

"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.

"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.

"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.

"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"

"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.

"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.

"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.

"I did not-"

"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.

When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.

"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.

"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.

"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.

Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.

"Are we done?" he yawns.

"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.

"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.

"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"

Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.

Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.

"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.

"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.

"Yo, I'm not his-"

Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.

"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"

"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.

"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.

"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."

While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.

"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.

What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! yuuta, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, mean yuuta, dacryphilia

yuuta is kind of tired of being so sweet. he’s always been so nervous and almost too caring during your intimate nights, but he just craves more. especially when he knows how you get when he’s even a little rough.

so, of course, he’s just gonna test the waters. but, poor boy loses control and now he's in the deep end.

he’s got you folded up in the meanest mating press, his hipbones digging into your ass, but, more importantly, his cock bullying your poor cunt. he might've been a little rash—what kinda guy interrupts a relatively slow makout by practically ripping her clothes off? though, he is so obsessed with you like this that he just doesn't care.

you're sobbing. it's not a few tears of pleasure, it's fat blobs streaming down your cheeks, moans replaced with cries. it hurts. he’s slamming into your cervix relentlessly. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful—how’s he supposed to stop?

it's not his fault your salty tears make your pretty puffy cheeks glimmer in the dimness of his bedroom, that they compliment your skin so nicely. and it's certainly not his fault that, the harder you cry, the harder your pussy squeezes his aching dick.

“you're so pretty,” he mumbles.

“it feels so good, right?” he asks with a shaky smile, “so, so good, sweetie.” he’s talking to you like he’s not absolutely wrecking ur insides with an insane stamina.

you shake your head, sniffling. you’d be pushing him off you (or at least trying to get him to slow the fuck down) if he didn't have one hand digging around both your wrists.

“no?” he tilts his head in a faux innocence—now he’s just being a bitch, “your body says otherwise.”

he lets your legs fall on either side of his hips when he moves the hand he was holding them against you with the rub circles on your swollen clit. a moan, for the first time since he forced himself onto you tonight, slips from your mouth and cuts off a choked sob.

“feels awful, huh?” he almost laughs.

you’d never seen your yuuta like this. a sweet, respectful boy. maybe occasionally perverse, though it always seemed to be rooted in love and attraction to you, but this? he’s barely recognizable. he’s dirty and mean.

your clothes were all discarded sans your underwear. the cotton was rubbing against him uncomfortably. naturally he’s gotta get rid of it.

rrrrrriiiiiiiiiipppppppp! he breaks the dampened fabric with no effort at all.

“be quiet, hm?” he says it so sweetly, like yuuta. he shoves the panties into your open mouth with a grin that has to be evil. your cries and half-moans are muffled now, face scrunched up in discomfort at having to taste yourself.

“good,” he praises.

“yuuta, h-hurts,” you barely make out through the ball of fabric in your mouth.

his hips still for a moment, an expression of genuine pondering crossing his features. he knits his brows together and pinches his chin in thought. he lets his eyes wander over your form. face wet and flushed, body covered in his teeth marks and goosebumps, legs shaking like a leaf—he has his answer.

he starts up his movements again, pounding into you somehow harder. you cry out loudly, the broken sound barely even muffled. he smiles so sweetly, that smile thst you love.

“i don't care, pretty girl.”

[seraphicsentences]

HEY! i knwo your on a break but just incase your bored could you write reader sending spicy texts2 streamer!ellie while shes on like a boss level, and then after ‘raging’ at reader for making her lose, she comes back as if the chat isnt questioning the sounds coming from the other room (silly girl forgot to mute)

hi. tumblr j deleted all my edits to this. i’m rage quitting and j posting this version i banged out in the span of 15 minutes 😀 anyways.

FUCK i’m sorry i know this took fucking forever and now i’m delivering mediocrity. loved this req either way this was smf to write. hope you enjoy sweet girl ;)

me when i disappear for a month and come back only to deliver pure dog shit. 🤪🤪

“-KID JUST GOT FUCKING DESTROYED, FUCKING BITCH.”

it was a late friday night, which meant ellie was streaming in her room, and you were supposed to be studying.

this week ellie was hosting a special in celebration of hitting 10k subscribers, and was grinding away to finally defeat Resident Evil’s final boss.

you could hear the chat dinging away with message after message, no doubt blasting ellie with compliments on her play, and the occasional comment thirsting over her hands or whatnot. it was nothing new— you’d seen the countless edits of her on your own social media page, and even had a folder of your own favorites saved away on a burner account.

“let me suck your fing- WHAT?! that is a crazy thing to say,” you could hear ellie’s shocked voice. “either way, chat, i’m married…”

“where’s my ring? UP YOUR ASS. c’mon, leave me be, guys,” ellie jokingly whined, bantering with her obsessive fanbase.

you held back a smile of your own, hand pressed to your mouth as she continued to scold the chat for their outrageously filthy messages. what a dork.

“alright alright, im muting the chat. love you guys but i gotta focus now! this is serious shit and i’m low on ammo now, hah-ha,” ellie spoke to the screen, words slightly muffled through the thin wall.

in the living room papers lay strewn across the floor, couch littered with eraser shavings and crumpled post-it notes, yourself splayed atop it all.

studying was a long-forgotten task you abandoned to instead sweep lazily through your camera roll, attempting to clear up some much needed storage.

you stopped abruptly at the thumbnail of an old video, in which depicted a downright sinful image of ellie’s bared neck for you as she arched back in pleasure.

you quite literally salivated at the veins that adorned her sweat-glistened skin, naked chest that was just covered by the play button in the center, goading you to click it.

quiet sounds of ellie’s desperate moans picked up, her head coming up look just above the camera and deliver the most pathetically fucked-out look.

“ple-ease can i cum, mommy?” she whined, voice breaking with every thrust of your fingers, wet squelching in the background a sign of her neediness.

“let me hear you, baby,” you heard yourself coo through the screen, the video becoming shaky as you picked up your pace— before suddenly ending on accident right as ellie let out a strangled whimper.

you met it with one of your own, frustrated with being left on an unfinished high, the throbbing at your core impossible to ignore.

your thighs shifted against one another, wetness pooling in your underwear as you replayed ellie’s final sound in your head over and over again.

your trance was broken by the sound of a frustrated groan coming from behind ellie’s door.

“fuck, i got it this time, i got it, swear,” she cursed as the game’s recognizable ‘revive’ audio cue played.

she could just do this again next week, right?

without a second longer of thinking, you quickly screen-shotted a clear frame from the video, shooting it ellie’s way and sending a quick text to follow.

~~

ellie choked on her own spit as she clicked the blur away. cough- “fuck-“ wheeze- “shit-“ hack- “sorry, guys, j choked on my own saliva.”

what the fuck? what games were you trying to play?

you groaned, hearing the firing of guns continue on alongside ellie’s commentary.

sliding your panties aside, you spread your legs to display the mess between them, snapping a quick picture.

you shot back another text.

“just one more hit, one more one more one m- i- fuck,” you hear ellie stutter. “oh fuck, yep… and i’m dead, ‘kay, sorry guys just give me like 5 i’ll be back. gotta take care of something.”

you heard the slam of her headphones hitting the table and a screech of her chair sliding back against the hardwood floors.

the door swung open, the look in ellie’s eyes making your heart race with anticipation.

“hey els, good game?” you asked innocently from your position on the couch, legs crossed with your arm resting over the back.

“good game? yeah, great game actually,” she replies sarcastically, sauntering her way over to you. “you didn’t happen to need something, did you?” she asks, hopping onto the couch and quirking an eyebrow up.

“me? no…” you trail off as she leans in to brush a kiss across your lips.

“no?” she tucks your hair aside, before leaning in to whisper, “you mind spreading those pretty legs for me then, baby? i just want a look.”

“els,” you whine, attempting to catch her mouth in a kiss.

she avoids it, dipping down instead to rasp words against your racing pulse, “show me.”

you uncross your legs slowly, a damp patch darkening the very center of your shorts.

ellie grabs the leg closest to her, swiveling your body in one swift move to face her direction, placing that leg over the back of the couch as she runs her other hand up your opposing leg.

“fuck, els, i need you,” you say breathlessly, hips bucking into the air.

“let’s get these off,” she replies with a squeeze, tugging at your waistband. “wanna tell me what’s got you texting me like a slut in the middle of my stream? was it the video? my video?”

she dips her thumb into your leaking hole, swiping your arousal up in a messy circle over your aching clit.

“ah- shit! yes, fuck, y’sounded s-so pretty in it, els,” you moaned, nerves overly sensitive from the wait. “please,” you cried out, unsure of what exactly you were begging for, but you needed more.

“so fuckin’ needy,” ellie laughs under her breath, relishing in the loud groan that escapes your lips when she replaces her hand with her mouth, tongue flicking rhythmically against your swollen clit to draw out more of those pretty sounds.

“oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph,” you rock your hips up, hand scrambling to tug ellie’s mouth even closer to you, if possible.

mmhm she moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you jerk up as your legs clamp tightly around her head. ellie’s hands dash up immediately to shove them apart, pressing them wide open with an iron grip as she practically growls, “you asked for this. so fucking take it.”

two of her fingers slide easily into you with the next pull on your clit, and you’re arching up in a manner almost identical to ellie’s in the video, whining nonsensically.

“you’re dripping, baby,” ellie tuts, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

she continues to pump her fingers deep into you, curling them on every outstroke to slide against the spot that makes you see stars.

“c’mon, cum all over my fingers,” she teases, whispering sweet praises between kitten licks to your sensitive clit.

with your head thrown back, you couldn’t help but moan her name like a fucking prayer as your walls started to tighten, legs trembling under her grasp as she worked you through your high.

“that’s it, soak my fucking fingers.”

~

iluvgirls_moms: THAT WAS 1000% A MOAN

elliesleftarm33: guys what the fuck is happening 😀 ellie babes, i think you forgot to mute.

ewilliamsismy_wife: did anyone else j hear ellie’s name. are the voices getting to me?

elliewsjizzfr6996: how to be ellie’s gf no glue no borax? 🥲🥲

1toesuckersslurper: NAH ITS BEEN WELL OVER 10 MIN IM OUTTA HERE

yeahhh… looks like ellie owes her subscribers a real big 10k special next week. and an apology.

[s6daz]

♰ sevika x f!reader ִ ࣪𖤐⋆˖

cw: angst(?, sevika is a little bit evil, prostitute!reader, sad lesbians is my passion.

note: i wrote this while listening to stay a little longer on loop, after a bit of smut comes the sad.

status: fixed

the brothel was more crowded than usual. The dim lights dyed the walls a warm red, while the air smelled strongly of cigarettes along with cheap liquor and sweet perfume. you and sevika were in one of the rooms of the place, after having sex and enduring how crazy sevika can be –sometimes– you remained lying on the bed exhausted.

in exchange for you, sevika was on the edge of the bed, lighting her second cigarette of the night while you watched her in silence. there was something about her posture that intrigued you, the way in which sevika avoided your gaze more than usual had you on alert and with a slight anguish that was difficult to ignore.

"can you stay a little longer?" you finally said, breaking the silence.

sevika didn't answer at first, instead she exhaled the smoke slowly, as if she was thinking about what to say.

"you know that's not possible, babe" her finally replied in her neutral, almost cold tone.

"you know it's not like that..." you insisted, sitting down and wrapping yourself in the sheets. "sevika i..."

you broke off, biting your lip and trying to find the right words. you didn't want to seem like a desperate bitch for her, but you really couldn't stand her distant attitude anymore.

"just... could you stay a little longer? please"

she finally looked at you and for a moment you thought you saw something different, guilt, perhaps. or something even more painful.

"this isn't what you think..." she said as if she knew what you were referring to, you were an easy book to read for her and it's not like your actions right now were being very professional.

"so what is it??" you asked, ignoring the horrible lump in your throat that was becoming increasingly difficult to untie. "because I can't continue like this, sevika. i know that... this is not against the rules here and that I am a simple prostitute but if this doesn't mean anything to you..."

she leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees as she ran a hand over her face.

"it's not that it doesn't mean anything..." she said in a defensive and frustrated tone "but i can't give you what you want either"

your heart tightened as you heard her words.

"then don't make it any more complicated," you whispered, approaching her and placing a hand on her face. "just stay with me... tonight."

sevika closed her eyes and for a moment looked like she was going to accept, but she quickly moved away from your touch and put on the remaining clothes that were on the floor, her bad mood filling the room in a way that made you feel so small.

"why are you making this harder than it already is?" she growled, breaking the silence as she finished putting on her shoes.

"because whatever we have matters to me, you matter to me" you spoke trying not to let your voice crack as you went along. "you know that what we have is not just client and sex worker"

she shook her head, her lips curving into a bitter smile.

"this isn't love, this is a job for you and me... this is just a distraction"

your breathing stopped. you knew perfectly well what sevika was like, someone direct, even brutal with her way of speaking, but you had never thought that she could say something like that to you.

"you don't mean it," you murmured slightly awkwardly, with a lump in your throat.

"yes, i say so" she replied, her voice as cold as steel. "don't ask me something like that again"

and with that sevika finally left the room, letting the silence speak louder than any words. she didn't look back as she left and you didn't try to stop her this time.

when the door finally closed, you lay back on the bed, your eyes burning with the tears that were beginning to come, and for the first time you began to wonder if you had been naive to think that her would stay by your side, pretending that this meant something and you would have wished that even if she left she wouldn't have done it so quickly.

because in the end two people can share four walls, but not the same feeling and staying becomes harder than leaving.

[azrielsdove]

Nothing but Hate: Azriel x Rhysand!Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Slight Eris x Reader

***

You grinned wickedly at the male in front of you, a dagger held tight in each hand. His golden eyes flashed with warning, hands lit up blue. You circled each other slowly, each sizing up the other.

You moved first, flinging a dagger towards his stomach. A flash of blue met the blade, disintegrating it in front of your eyes. Your smile dropped from your face, and you threw the second one rashly. It missed, as you knew it would. You groaned, hands coming up to cover your eyes.

“You’re up here to train,” Azriel chided, “so why don’t you act like it?”

You dropped your hands and turned to glare at him. “Has it ever occurred to you I have more important things to do than this?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Like what? Organizing your pretty little ball gowns? Polishing your countless tiaras?”

“I provide valuable intel to this Court,” you said, slowly looking him up and down. “Something you could learn a thing or two about.”

His eyes narrowed. “I do my job well. Your brother would not keep me employed if I didn’t. Or do you doubt the judgement of the High Lord?”

You gave a dramatic pout. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? I care not what my brother does with you and that other brute. I was raised to gather information under the guise of a sweet, innocent lady.” You made a show of batting your eyes, lips in an exaggerated pout. “Males crumble far too easily.”

Rhys had been trying to get you and Azriel to get along for the better part of the last century. Something about him irked you to your bones. Cassian wasn’t much higher ranked in your mind, but you could at least tolerate him. You felt you would never know why your brother had latched on to these two idiots.

“You think rather highly of yourself, princess.” He spoke your title like it was an insult.

“I don’t see any great cause for why I should not,” you shot back, head high. You knew exactly what you were worth.

“Stuck-up brat.”

“You enjoy being my brothers bitch?”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a sharp yell.

“Enough!”

The two of you turned to see Rhys storming into the training ring. “I cannot think with you going at it like little children!”

“Well if he-“

“Rhys, she’s-“

“I said, ENOUGH.” Rhys stopped in front of you, hands coming to massage his temples. “You are being insufferable. I will not listen to your ceaseless bickering any longer. Figure out how to get along, or you will both be reassigned to the training camps.”

You and Azriel gave sounds of protest, quieted by Rhys holding up a hand. “I do not wish to hear it. I’m giving you one last chance. If you complete this mission without trouble I will allow you to yell at each other as much as you want. Otherwise, say goodbye to your nice little lives here.” He looked pointedly at the both of you. “Am I understood?”

You both grumbled your agreements, waiting to be given instruction. “Good. Now, I need you to go to Autumn. Beron is hosting a ball this coming week, and I need intel on what it is he’s doing. I do not trust the Vanserra’s, especially with Lucien’s recent departure.” He frowned deeply. “His father is a truly evil man. I want eyes on him.”

You and Azriel nodded, understanding the importance of this mission. Regardless of how you felt about each other, Rhys was right about the evil that runs the Autumn Court.

***

You stared at yourself in the mirror, a deep dread weighing down on you. You ran your hands over the front of your gown, watching the minuscule diamonds in the black fabric sparkle in the light. It was a stunning garment by all accounts, with the flowing skirts and romantic off-shoulder neckline. You looked every part the Night Court Princess, simply attending a ball as a Lady should.

Accompanied by…Azriel.

A knock at the door reminded you of his irritating presence. You walked over to open it, silver heels tapping on the ground.

“Are you-“ He began, stopping as he looked you over. You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your face.

“Speechless, Shadowsinger?” You quipped, winking at him. That brought him back to reality and he rolled his eyes before begrudgingly holding an arm out for you to take.

“I would almost say you’re beautiful, but then you had to go and open that annoying little mouth of yours.” You pinched his arm under your hand, though you noted that the usual bite behind his words wasn’t all there.

This night was extremely important to the both of you. You had to figure out a way to work together. Neither one of you wished to go to the training camps, far away from your home. It sent a chill down your spine to recall the ways you were treated anytime you were at them, and you didn’t dare to think what it would be like if you were there alone. Truthfully, you were a little angry with Rhys for this level of threat. Was the punishment equal to the crime?

“Let’s just get this over with, Azriel.” You were looking forcibly ahead, otherwise you would have seen the worry that flitted over his face.

***

Evil as Beron was, he knew how to throw a party. The ballroom of the Autumn Court castle was dressed to the gods, golden elegance dripping from every inch. The male himself sat on an intricate wooden throne, a crown sat atop his head. His sons stood in a line next to him, each dressed in varying shades of orange and red. You carefully surveyed the room, putting on a show like you were admiring the decor.

Beron took note of you quickly, standing to loudly welcome you. “Princess! Come, let me introduce you to my sons.” You gave a shy smile and made your way over to him, playing the role Rhys had instructed you to. “Your brother tells me he is interested in a possible match between our Courts,” Beron continues, too loud for comfort. You knew the offer of your hand would go to his head. The elusive, dark, Night Court heiress betrothed to one of his sons? How could he resist?

You gave a small nod, glancing over at his sons lined up like prizes for you to select. “I am honored that you would deem me a good match for any of your sons, my lord.” You could almost feel the laugh Azriel held back at your demure tone.

Beron smiled widely, placing a hand on your back to lead you to the line of males. “Eris, my eldest and likely heir, would be your most advantageous match,” he drawled. Eris held his hand out for yours, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is an honor to be considered by the Princess of Night.” His voice dripped with honey-like sweetness, a gleam in his eyes that drew you in. You couldn’t help the light blush that crossed your cheeks in his presence.

“The honor is all mine,” you said with a curtsy, biting your lip when you looked back up at him.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked, as gentlemanly as expected. You bowed your head in agreement before letting him lead you out to the dance floor.

A shadow swirled briefly around your ankles, a subtle sign from Azriel. As annoying as he was, you knew you could trust him to keep you from danger. You made a point to catch his eye over Eris’ shoulder, a silent gesture that you understood his message.

Eris placed one hand on your waist and held yours in the other, a proud smile on his face. You allowed yourself to be immersed in the music, following his every move like you’d spent hours practicing together.

“Have you been to this Court before?” He asked you, spinning in a circle. “You do not look familiar.”

You shook your head, giving him a small laugh. “My brother does not like it when I travel far without him.” A sweet, innocent answer.

“He does not trust you, then?”

“No, I would not say so. He simply…worries, doesn’t he?” You tilted your head in the direction of the other sons. “Do you not worry for your brothers?”

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked over, an unspoken pain. “Them? No.” He looked back at you. “Not those ones.” You understood what he was saying, the unspoken message behind his words. The brother he worried for was long gone, away in Spring. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know you understood.

Eris spun you out and pulled you in, your back hitting his chest as his arms wrapped around you. He bowed his head enough for his breath to tickle your neck, your body giving an answering shiver. “You’re not like the other High Court ladies,” he whispered in your ear, before spinning you back out and away.

You turned into him again, his hand coming back to its spot on your waist. “And you are not like other High Court lords,” you responded with a playful smile.

“How so?”

“Well, usually they hardly ever let me speak,” you laughed when you said it, playing it off like a joke.

“Hmm,” he said, the hand on your waist sliding to the small of your back as he pulled you in closer, “then they do not know the enjoyment they are missing.” 
The song had ended, the two of you left standing there improperly close. You were lost in his eyes, in the secrets he held in them. He leaned down and for half a second you believed he was going to kiss you.

And you were going to let him.

Instead he moved to whisper, “Would you like to see something special?” You nodded, and allowed him to lead you off the dance floor and out of the ballroom. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you that running off with a male you did not know was not the safest choice, but Eris made you feel safe. You could only hope his actions matched his words.

You were pleasantly surprised when he lead you to a library, books up to the ceiling. Everything was made of dark wood, shelves as if the trees simply grew that way. A roaring fire warmed the room, the smell of cinnamon and old parchment welcoming. “Oh, Eris,” you said in awe, “it is beautiful.”

He came up behind you as you stood in the center of the room, lost in the beauty around you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed flat over your stomach, the other resting on your arm. He bent his head again, lips millimeters from the bare skin of your shoulder. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into him, the mission you were on long forgotten.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he hummed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Not many care to come here. My father especially.” You felt the angry twitch in his fingers at the reminder of his father. You turned your head to look up at him, recognizing the longing in his expression.

“I am sorry,” you began, “about Lucien. I imagine that has been hard on you. Being forced to pretend you do not care.” He stayed quiet, looking at you with an intensity you had never experienced. Like it was the first time anyone had seen him.

“You are not what I thought you would be,” he whispered, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. He kissed you with the passion of a thousand suns, his mouth moving with yours in their own dance. You turned in his arms to press your chest flush against his, your arms twining around his neck as you pulled him closer. Eris groaned at your touch, one hand coming to tangle its way into the hair at the back of your head.

He started moving the two of you until your back hit one of the bookshelves, never breaking the kiss. Tongues created art as the two of you lost yourselves in each other. “Eris,” you moaned when he moved his lips off yours, instead running them up and down the skin of your neck. He growled in response, one hand slowly gathering the skirts of your dress. Your breath was coming in fast spurts, his teeth dragging along your skin making you forget everything you were supposed to be doing.

“Say my name like that again,” he murmured against your skin, your skirts up high enough that he could slide one hand onto your thigh.

You opened your mouth to oblige when he was suddenly ripped off of you, the stark coldness of reality washing over you. You were stunned, still panting against the bookshelf as you took in the scene in front of you.

Eris was thrown backwards, slumped against the shelf across from you. You started to rush towards his unconscious form, concerned for him. You knelt by his side, gently laying his limp body all the way down as you looked over him for any serious injuries.

“Oh, give it up,” came an angry voice, and you shot your head towards Azriel.

“What is your problem?” You yelled, standing once you ensured Eris was otherwise okay.

“My problem? My problem? Maybe it’s the fact that we were sent here on a job, and you are too busy whoring yourself out to care!” He was glaring at you, shadows swirling angrily around him.

“You’d better rethink your words, Shadowsinger,” you warned, dark lightning flickering at your fingertips.

“Relax, princess. Rhys is calling us back.” He looked over at Eris on the ground. “Sorry to interrupt your little…moment,” he said, sounding not very sorry at all. You looked sadly back at Eris, worry still creeping in your mind. Azriel noticed, rolling his eyes. “He’ll be fine. We will not be if we do not go,” he emphasized, grabbing on to your arm.

“Fine.”

The two of you hastily winnowed back home, Azriel flying once your powers grew weary. You did not inherit the Illyrian wings from your mother, much to your dismay. Especially in this moment, in which you had to be in Azriel’s arms as he flew you high above the ground.

“What did you see in him?” He asked, breaking the chilly silence that had ensued since you left the Autumn Court.

“What?” You asked, shocked by his question.

“I mean, they’re evil, aren’t they? The Vanserras?”

You looked out over the night sky, quiet for a moment. “I believe some of them are. I believe Eris pretends to be.”

“I see,” Azriel mused. “But…why choose him?” You turned to look at him, puzzled.

“Azriel, are you jealous?” You teased, waiting for him to act disgusted.

Instead he remained silent, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly. You stared at him for a long time, processing the underlying meaning in his actions. “Az?”

He reacted then, looking at you sharply. You had never called him by that name. “I do not know what you mean,” he finally said.

The rest of the flight was done in silence.

You were thankful when you finally landed back at the House of Wind, the marble under your shoes a welcome feeling. A cool nights breeze blew through the balcony as you turned to Azriel.

“Well, thank you for not abandoning me in the Autumn Court,” you joked, trying for a smile.

His expression stayed stoic. “I would never have left you.”

You blinked at the intensity of his words. It was then that you noticed how closely he was standing to you, how he was looking at you. It was rather similar to the way Eris had looked before he had…

You backed away abruptly, stumbling slightly in your heels. Azriel caught you smoothly around the waist, hand burning you through the fabric of your dress.

“Azriel,” you whispered, “Rhys did not call us back, did he?”

“No.”

“Ah.” Your body was trembling in his grasp, a barrier dangerously close to being crossed as he tugged you flush against him, his nose tracing the slope of your neck. “Then why did you say he did?”

His hands fisted the material beneath them as he inhaled your scent. “I couldn’t stand it.”

You hated the way you were reacting to him, the fire coursing through you. It was entirely different than the way you had felt with Eris. This was more. Much more. You took a shaky breath before asking the question you already knew the answer to.

“Couldn’t stand what?”

Azriel brought his head up, eyes boring into yours. A century of untold feelings swam behind them. “I couldn’t watch him touch you any longer,” he began, one hand coming up to caress your throat. “It was driving me crazy. His lips on your skin, his hands on you.” His thumb rolled across your pressure point, pressing down ever so slightly. An embarrassingly needy noise fell from your lips. “Gods,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “I’ve held back for so long. Forcing my feelings down,” he started kissing down your throat, down your shoulder. Following the same path Eris had left a mere few hours before. “I chose to become your enemy instead, someone you couldn’t stand,” he bit down on your shoulder, dragging a soft moan from you as his tongue soothed the marks his teeth left. “But watching him touch you? The way I should be? No,” he laughed cruelly, dropping to his knees in front of you. You looked down at him in shock, heart racing at the hunger in his eyes. “I couldn’t let him have you.”

You reached behind you for the railing of the balcony, grasping onto it like it was your lifeline. “Azriel,” you whispered, watching him lift the bottom of your skirts. He kissed your bare ankle, eyes catching yours once more.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Yet the both of you knew you weren’t going to. His lips continued their transgressions up your leg, painfully slow. He was leaving dark marks in his wake, a reminder that he was there. Your hand twisted in his hair when he reached the top of your thigh, leaving one final mark for you to see in the morning. “Az,” you gasped, feeling as though you were going to erupt into flame at any moment. “Please.”

He smiled wickedly at you, tearing your underwear off of you a moment later. You gave a small shriek at the action, eyes wide as you looked at the torn garment. He allowed you no chance to comment, his mouth on you before you even knew what to say.

“Oh,” you moaned, head falling backwards. His tongue swirled around you like you were the most delicious desert he had ever tasted. He sucked onto your clit, ripping a loud cry of his name from you. You were lost in the haze of lust and pleasure, all the years of anger and hate gone as if they never existed.

He continued the sins he was committing with his tongue while his fingers ran up to join. You moaned his name again and again as one pushed inside of you, curling in the exact spot you needed it to. Cool shadows swirled around your burning skin, a sensation so intense you weren’t sure you could handle it. He added a second finger, stretching you pleasurably. “Azriel, I, oh, Az,” you gasped out, unable to form coherent thought. He kept his movements steady as one shadow wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to moan again.

Eris was long gone from your mind.

Azriel continued working you, clearly pleased by the increasing volume and intensity in which you were saying his name. You knew you were close, forcing your orgasm at bay as long as possible. You wanted to live in this moment forever. He touched you like he had studied you for years, like he knew exactly what would make you tick. In his hands you were nothing but clay for him to mold, creating the beautiful sculpture that was this moment. Your body began to shake as he kept steady, thrusting his fingers in and out of you while humming against your clit.

That was all you needed to explode against him.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, your head thrown all the back, mouth open in a silent scream. Stars exploded behind your eyes, the sensation of your orgasm rolling through you. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling as long as possible. He didn’t cease his actions until you were gasping for air, his name falling from your lips like a beautiful song. Only then did he slowly pull away from your wrecked body, standing to hold you steady.

One hand came to gently cup your face, thumb running lovingly over your cheek. “How long?” You asked, leaning into his touch.

“Since the first day I met you.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Then why lie? Why battle me for so long?”

He looked guilty, moving to rest his forehead on yours. “You are his sister. I was scared.” He took a shuddering breath. “It was too risky. You were off limits, you see. He had explicitly told Cassian and I to not even think about it,” he gave a humorless laugh. “Being around you was overwhelming. Everything in me was screaming for you. I had originally decided to just be friends, that I would settle for that.” The arm around your waist tightened. “But even that was too much. I needed you, and the longer I went without you the more i began to lose it.” His eyes turned sad. “I had to push you away.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “Sometimes I hate my brother,” you whispered, a century long confession on the tip of your tongue. “For it has been the same for me all these years. So long, in fact, I forgot why I started to dislike you in the first place.” With that, you closed the remaining space between you, pressing your lips to his.

A hundred years of lost emotion poured from the both of you, holding on to each other like you may disappear. You kissed Azriel like this was the only chance you had, allowing him to open your mouth with his.

Passion flowed between the two of you, the taste of yourself on his tongue reigniting the fire under your skin. He whispered your name over and over against your lips, like a prayer he had been longing to say. In that moment the two of you were the only ones who existed.

“Well, this is most certainly not what I meant when I said I wanted you to get along.”

Your eyes shot open as you pulled your lips from Azriel’s, looking widely at your rather angry brother. “I, uh, hello, Rhys,” you stuttered, taking a step away from Azriel. Who, in fact, was having none of that, and immediately pulled your lips from back into his arms.

“Rhysand,” he said coolly.

“I would be careful with your tone if I were you, Azriel,” Rhys warned, anger simmering in him. “That is my sister.”

Azriel simply tightened his hold on you, capturing your lips in another kiss. “So she is.” He looked back at your brother. “Yet she is also my mate.”

Mate. Mate?

No.

Surely you didn’t spend a century warring with your fated mate, because your brother was too much of a hard ass to allow you to make your own choices?

No.

It couldn’t be.

And yet, at his declaration, you felt it in your soul. The golden bond tying the two of you together.

You glared at Rhysand.

“Brother, you and I will speak tomorrow.” Azriel leaned his head down to press a kiss against your neck, mumbling “or in a week.” You swatted him away, ignoring the laugh he let out. “But for now, you will go. I do not care where, but you will leave us be. Do you understand?”

Rhys stared at you in disbelief, not used to having someone else boss him around. “Well, I, but,” he spluttered, looking around the balcony as if for someone to save him. “You’re my sister!”

You gave him an exaggerated nod, speaking slowly. “Yes. I am. I am also fully grown and capable of making my own choices. Now, I suggest you leave.” Azriel happily began peppering kisses over your skin again. “Immediately.”

***

AHHHHHHH i absolutely LOVED writing this. happy 2025 friends. i hope you enjoyed <3

[krystal-kade]

What happened to Alastor being scary

The biggest thing I noticed in Hazbin Hotel that Alastor is not scary. He used to be mysterious, creepy, and intimidating. We didn't know what he was thinking. We didn't know how he was feeling. He was such a great character because we knew he was insanely powerful, but he didn't act like it. But now that the show has come out, he's not scary or intimidating. He's just an edgelord.

Pilot Alastor wouldn't make this. Here he's goofy, but in a bad way. Where's the mysterious Alastor? This guy's just like "HAHAHAH I'M SO EVIL >:)" but he just seems stupid?

He also says all these corny lines, like "This is your sign not to mess with the radio demon," (it was something like that) "I'm about to end your fucking life," and "Adam. First man, next to die." He sounds like he's a 12 year old role-playing a creepypasta. These aren't intimidating, he just sounds dumb, edgy, and cringy

ALSO he seriously needs to STOP saying FUCK. It wasn't popular slang in the early 1900's, so he probably would never say it, but it also doesn't fit his persona. A really unique part of him is that he doesn't swear much and he's always smiling. He shouldn't say "ornery old bitch" and he shouldn't say 'fuck you." They just don't fit him. If he wanted what he said to have impact, he would have said something like "she's such a bitter old woman, bless her soul." or when Lucifer says the hotel's name isn't very clever, he should've said "your highness, intelligence is in constant pursuit of you, but it seems you have always been faster" because subtle insults he thinks everyone else is too stupid to understand seems more like his style.

I'll excuse him saying fuck once or twice. Maybe when he breaks his staff, and once more in season two? But he says it too much to have impact.

TL;DR, Alastor's not scary because he's not mysterious. He's just an angry edgelord

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, Satoru Gojo is a mean little shit, there will be a lot of threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit and some infidelity and confusion. There is some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Toxic Asshole Gojo, and toxicc hoe Geto

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 8.7k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and wants an open relationship. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Masterlist

ꕥChapter 1 ꕥ

Satoru's POV

Satoru Gojo hates you. No, he really hates you.

As Suguru and you walk in, hand in hand, and he sees your pretty eyes all lit up, he realizes he despises you more than anything. Hates how you smile at him, how you look at Suguru so adoringly, he really hates how positive and sweet you are, especially to him, when he’s a dick to you.

Why don’t you stop? Just be a bitch back or something, be real with him, but no, you’re perfect aren’t you? Just a perfect girl, beautiful, though he doesn’t find you attractive, no way . Even though he can see every curve in that dress you wear, your lush breasts swaying (because why can’t you wear a bra) your hips swaying, your little waist where it juts in.

You have a gorgeous body, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care your skin glows, and your cheeks get pink. He hates that. He hates every bit of you, as you stand there, so tiny compared to Suguru and him, so tiny he could throw you. Tiny and evil. Sure you’ve been nothing but nice but he knows you’re awful somewhere in there, because who can be so sweet?

As you bounce in his office, holding a little envelope that was pink just like the dress you wore (god you’re so girly, you annoy him that way too) Satoru Gojo just scowls at you, then looks to Suguru. Suguru looks like a puppy so in love with you already, and how, it hadn’t been that long had it…

“Happy birthday, Gojo!” You beam at him, coming to his desk and leaning forward, hugging him around his neck. He tenses then.

Your collarbone is so inviting and delicate, right against his face, as your breasts are soft on his own chest, the weight of them so intoxicating. You smell so sweet, like cherry blossoms, he hates that, hates you. He hates how much his arms itch to wrap back, how much his hands want to slide up your back, grip those pretty tits that are killing him.

Fuck he hates you.

“Ahem…” You awkwardly step back as he just sits there, and he glares at you, making your pretty face fall for a moment.

Good.

Your POV

“Sorry, got carried away. I am so excited to give you this gift!” You hand him the pink envelope, and Suguru comes closer, leaning on Satoru’s desk and smirking.

“Open it baby boy.” Suguru teases, and Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes.

“A gift would be not having to see you.” He says tersely, glaring at you then, and how did someone so stunning and beautiful look at you so mean . For what?

You tense then, and Suguru has a glare on his handsome face, coming to wrap an arm around your waist gently but assuredly. His big hand is warm on your hip, and you watch Satoru’s bright blue eyes hone in on them like a hawk. Suguru leans forward and presses his lips against your temple, firm hot lips that you adored, and you instantly relax.

“Satoru, she’s just trying to be nice, could you please just try not to be such a colossal dick?” Suguru asks calmly, and Satoru lowers his gaze back to the envelope again.

Satoru Gojo hates you. You don’t know why.

You’ve been dating Suguru for only three months, so not a very long time, but you’d known him for a little longer, he’d come into the club you work at on the weekends, and would sit at the bar and talk to you. Until one night you got the hint, and did go home with him, and fuck if it wasn’t the best decision. Suguru Geto was absolutely amazing in every way possible.

You both had fallen into an easy situation-ship, as Suguru was very open sexually, and though you weren’t at first, he made it fun. You were bisexual, so you all started just having fun together with a couple gorgeous girls, and fuck Suguru was superb in bed too. The thoughts alone make you tremble.

You all ended up developing feelings and deciding to be together, and exclusively date even if you all had fun in the room, you both promised to only ‘date’ each other. It was weird, and not common, but it seemed to work. You loved watching Suguru get pleased by another woman, and he loved to watch you get pleased.

Even though he hadn’t said he loved you, you had let it slip during one particular love making session alone together. Definitely had to do with Suguru’s tongue honestly. He had said he needed some time, which was fine with you, because Suguru treated you like some queen.

He took care of you, he was there for you, shit he spoiled you honestly. Though he was with other women sexually, he only dated you, and he’d even offered to bring a guy in the bedroom. But you weren’t sure about that sort of thing, with a guy.

When you’d met his best friend, and fuck you’d been so excited, Suguru talked him up like he was amazing, he clearly adored him, so much so you wondered if they were together together, perhaps in the past. Suguru brought up that they'd shared women and everything, and of course when you saw Satoru Gojo your heart had faltered.

He was beautiful, this tall white haired man with a perfect face and baby blue eyes, the yin to Suguru’s yang. Both of them were the most gorgeous men you’d seen. Suguru had talked so much about how Satoru was just the absolute best person, how he would adore you, because Suguru did. Bright and funny, and a loyal friend, almost like family.

Welp.

The Satoru Gojo you met was mean . Nasty. He looked at you like you were something disgusting to him, and he had not once smiled your way, and you have absolutely no clue what you’ve done. You have tried everything, to the point Suguru has brought up not hanging out with him as much, but you never want to ruin a friendship, and you insist he keeps trying.

But no matter what, any time you were around, Satoru had nothing nice to say, no he had mean things to say. Sometimes so cruel Suguru and him would fight, and Satoru would sort of apologize, once Suguru backed off hanging out with him. Which was hard, since they work together in the same building, both running the same damn company together.

You hate that you come between them.

“Yeah, yeah… my birthday is tomorrow.” He slides a silver letter opener to tear open the envelope then.

“She wanted to give it to you today.”

“Hmm… holy fuck!” He runs a hand through his silky white hair, as his full lips part in a gasp, staring at the tickets. “This is front and center for the game tomorrow!? How, these are sold out!?”

“I got them last month. Suguru brought up how much you love going to those games and I got a deal on them.” You say, and Suguru smiles down at you, looking so handsome, you brush back his long locks, kissing his cheek and giggling.

“Knew he’d love it.” Suguru murmurs, and you get just a bit of hope, until Satoru pulls the tickets out.

“Three?” He says haughtily, glaring those ridiculously pretty blue eyes up at you then, blinking those spiky white lashes. You sigh.

“Yeah, I thought we could all go? If that’s okay!” You wring your hands nervously in front of you.

“Of course it’s okay, right Satoru?”

“Can I take someone else?” He asks, and you feel your chest tighten. Suguru opens his mouth, brows low over his brown eyes, but you stop him.

“Um, it’s your gift. Of course you can. I didn’t mean to impose.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, leaning back in the big black office chair and thrumming his fingers on the mahogany desk like he’s bored.

“You don’t care? You bought them, and a pretty penny I bet.” You just blink back that emotion, smiling brightly, earning a scowl.

“It’s your gift and I shouldn’t have been so sure you’d want me to go. So of course, but please take Suguru.”

“Babe-”

“It’s fine!”

“Oh I’ll take Suguru.” He smirks, and it’s a nasty one, too nasty to be on such a pretty face, as he eyes your body up and down. “Think I’ll invite a really pretty girl, someone banging hot.”

You tense at his words, and Suguru does too. “Yeah, what now? As if she’s not drop dead gorgeous, please fuck all the way off. You can dislike her but don’t lie.”

You’re bright red, and barely held in tears make your vision blur as Satoru casually assesses you. “Mmm… she’s okay I guess. I meant actually hot.”

“I’m just gonna go.” You whisper then, trembling as he so casually douses the small bit of self esteem you have, the one that Suguru had helped you with.

“Apologize, now, because you know it’s bullshit. I know you stare at her so cut the shit.” Suguru’s voice gets dark, deep and authoritative, and Satoru frowns then.

“I didn’t say she’s ugly or something. As if that matters to her .”

“I’m right here, you know.” You cut in then, tilting your chin up, and Satoru stands up then, hands in his pockets.

“All right, surely you know the caliber of women I get. How do you stack up, short stuff?” He is right in front of you, bent down, and your tears escape, just two of them, but you quickly blink and look down.

“Satoru, I swear to fucking-”

“It’s fine, Suguru.” You whisper, swiping at your eyes then facing him, the man who so casually says you’re basically unattractive. “I’m sure you get much prettier women than me. I don’t think I’m very pretty, by the way.”

He glares then, a snarl on his lips. “You’re full of shit, I know you think you’re hot shit, I see it in the way you act, the way you walk.”

“You don’t know shit. You don’t know anything about me. You can call me ugly all the fuck you want but don’t pretend to know who I am inside.” He blinks his white lashes, leaning back a bit and opening his mouth.

“Baby…”

“I didn’t say you’re ugly, I just…”

“Said I’m nothing like girls you get. Said I’m not hot.”

“You’re not hot to me.”

“Good, I shouldn’t be! I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Well thank god I can’t imagine having to wake up and look at that face in the morning.” You back up then, and the tears do flow, and for just a moment you see Satoru’s face fall, as if maybe he realized how horrible he is.

But too late, you just want to leave.

“Satoru I’m fucking done, you- baby don’t go.” You shake your head as he holds on to you.

“I’ll leave and stop ruining your day. Have a good birthday, Gojo.” You murmur, and he opens his lips to say something, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand, leaning up to kiss Suguru then. “I overstepped.”

“You didn’t, he’s being-”

“Text me later.” He reaches for you but you turn and walk out the door, your chest heaving, trying not to show tears so embarrassingly in the busy office, struggling to just catch a breath.

Satoru’s POV

“I’m not going with you. I’m so fucking done. You’ve been a dick but this is too far even for you.” Suguru shoves Satoru then, and Satoru starts to hate himself, more than he already has been lately.

“She knows she’s gorgeous, she just wants attention.”

“You have no clue what she does or doesn’t know. When I met her she was so down on herself, it’s taken a lot just to get her to feel pretty, now you go and fuck that up for her.”

Satoru pauses, lips tensing as they are pressed together, and he sees you walk out of the office from the window, and when he sees you it hurts his heart. Your hands are in your face as if you’re crying into them, and that little pink dress and your long hair are flowing in the wind, you look like some painting out there, so perfect and tiny in the big city.

Fuck.

“I was just trying to get a rise-”

“She spent so much money on those. Just for you to maybe not hate her, and what do you do, make her cry? I’m done.”

“Suguru… I just didn’t think that someone who looks like that…”

“Like what?”

“She’s beautiful and yes I know she is. Not blind. How does she not know she is?” Satoru runs a hand through his silvery hair, and Suguru glares.

“So instead of saying that you make up some bullshit? Not like the girls you get!? She’s prettier than anyone you’ve fucked.”

Satoru lets out a dejected sigh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Then what… what the fuck is your problem! What has she ever done? She even tells me to hang out with you when I don’t want to.”

Satoru pauses. “She does?”

“Yeah, she sure does, or I wouldn’t talk to you aside from business. She pleads your case as you down her, trash her. I know it’s only been a few months, but she is important to me.” Satoru’s heart hurts, as he looks back out the window, and of course you’re gone, probably still crying because of him.

And he’d lied right to your face.

You believed him, too.

How? When you’re so beautiful, how could you not know how just your glittering eyes looking at him tear his heart out of his chest? And that was why Satoru hates you so very much, because of that.

How can he look at his best friend’s girl like that? No, he must hate you instead, because if he lets his guard down…

It’d be over for him.

“Satoru, you aren’t fucking listening.”

Satoru looks at his best friend, seeing the anguish in his face, and it makes him feel even worse. “Sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”

“How could you be so mean, even to a stranger let alone her? It’s not even like you. It’s like I don’t know who you are. And if this is jealousy for her time with me, she always makes sure we have time alone, so-”

“I know she does. I know she’s perfect. I know she’s beautiful. And, I know she is a sweet person who’s only been nice to me. Okay!?”

“So what the fuck-”

“I hate her.”

Suguru blinks in confusion, crossing his arms then, tilting his head to the side to study his best friend. “Why though?”

Satoru’s hands grip his desk so tightly the knuckles go white. “I don’t know what to tell you, I just do.”

“You want me to break up with her don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“So what, I can be miserable and lonely like you?”

“Fuck you, Sugu. I fuck plenty.”

“And I fuck plenty.”

“Her though.”

“Yeah, her but… we bring girls in.” Satoru blinks at that again, imagining you with another woman makes him stupidly hard in his trousers, and he huffs as he turns away so Suguru wouldn’t notice. “So surprised?”

“She seems like a goody goody.”

Why would Suguru want to fuck another girl anyway, when he had you ?

“Brought Utahime home last week and fucked her.” Satoru glares over at Suguru behind his shoulder.

“Both of you?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“And you eiffel towering over this girl too?”

“No. We haven’t done anything with a guy. She hasn’t wanted to, and yes, I offered. I am not one sided.”

“Hmm.” Is all Satoru answers, then Suguru breaks into a little laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanna fuck her. How did I not see this?”

“Do not! What, no.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick she’d go for it. She thinks you’re hot, you know.” Satoru frowns, turning back to Suguru then.

“What, like you all are poly? Why? Isn’t she… enough?”

“That’s a weird question from you. It’s just what works for us right now, but yes she would be enough for me if she wanted to go exclusive. I was already poly when we met, she was a little hesitant but jumped right into it.”

“Huh. Well, I don’t wanna fuck your girl. That would be…”

“Sure you don’t. It’s like when a kid picks on a girl, so childish. You could have just told me that you wanted to.”

It was beyond that. Satoru didn’t wanna just fuck you, he wanted to be with you, kiss you, worship you, fuck he wanted to breed you even, bend you over his desk and cum inside you. It was horrible, the thoughts, as he jerked off in his bed at night to one of your photos he’d sent himself from Suguru’s phone.

Yep it was that bad.

Even this offer? It would never work.

“Maybe just try to be nice, and spend the night.” Satoru looks at Suguru like he's lost it. How was he so calm about you? About sharing you?

“You want me to fuck your girl with you, Sugu? You crazy?”

“If it would get you all to get along, absolutely.”

“She hates me.”

“No, she should, but she doesn’t.” How could you not hate him? Satoru is wracking his brain, trying to figure you out. Were you perfect? “Anyway I’m out, at least ask her to go to the game with us, would you please? And apologize.”

“I can’t just text her.” Suguru rolls his eyes.

“Why not?”

Because he would lose his mind if your name popped up on his goddamn phone, that’s why.

“Tell her it’s fine if she comes. I’ll… apologize at the game.”

“That’s as good as it’ll get I suppose. Bye, asshole.”

Suguru leaves, and Satoru’s mind is a blur, as he digests the type of relationship you and Suguru clearly have, and it was not what he expected. Suguru damn near said ‘fuck my girl’. What would he even do if he touched you? If he tasted you. The thought makes his mouth water, makes his cock hard.

Did you taste as good as you smell? Fuck.

He wouldn’t even wanna share you if you were his, not even with his best friend. Luckily he hates you. Right?

***

Your POV

You’re at the basketball game the next day, dressed up in the white and blue little outfit Suguru had picked out for you, the team’s colors, and you sit awkwardly next to Satoru and Suguru. Satoru has barely talked to you all night, but he’s been nothing but civil, which is as good as you can imagine.

You don’t know why he even invited you after the way he talked to you yesterday, and he sure has not apologized, but here you are. It did take some convincing from Suguru though.

(earlier that day)

“Ah, Sugu… oh f-fuck yes, there there!” Suguru’s tongue was lavishing your little clit, and he sucked it into his mouth, chocolate eyes darting up your body as he hummed on it, making you fall apart under him. “S’good… oh my…”

You’re cumming all over Suguru Geto’s handsome face, and he pulls back with a grin, licking his lips, half his face covered in your arousal. “Princess, I could do this all fucking day. Tastes so good.”

“Sugu… you’re so… mnh!” He’s slid a long finger in you now, curling it up just so, and you see stars then. Suguru could play your little cunt like it was an instrument, his fingers finding that little spot and hitting it again and again.

“Cum again for me, please, Princess.” He cooes the words, and you just arch your hips up as he grabs the fat of your ass, using his fingers and tongue in sync, until you’re completely spent, cumming all over his hands as he sips you up.

“Oh my God, Sugu.” You mumble, left incoherent when he leans over you, kissing your lips softly. You moan into it, clinging to him.

“You have the best little pussy.” You flush then.

“You don’t have to say that, I know you enjoy…” Huh, does it hurt your feelings a bit? No it can’t.

“Sure I do enjoy, but I mean it. The best.” He kisses your lips softly. “You’re my favorite.”

You for some reason doubt it.

You hate that.

“What’s wrong Princess? He has you that down? Imma beat his ass when I see him.” You shake your head, sighing then. “He said he thinks you’re beautiful, you know, and that he was surprised you believed him.”

“That’s… no. Just no. I don’t believe that for shit.”

“He did say it. I know he’s being awful but I almost think it’s because he wants to fuck you.”

“What!?” Your brows raise at that, and Suguru sighs, brushing back your hair then.

“We have played with what, four women now? Haven’t you thought of playing with a guy?”

“Are you into guys? I don’t mind if you want to…”

“No, but I’m very comfortable, especially with Satoru. And you’re not very experienced, you know, it could be fun for you. I’m like the only guy you’ve been with damn near.”

“What you’re hinting at is insane. I know you shared women but they weren’t girlfriends or anything right?”

“No, they weren’t. But sometimes I wonder if you all need to fuck this frustration on each other.”

“Satoru would never wanna fuck me.”

“Baby…”

“What, did you not hear him?”

“Yeah I did, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But let’s not bullshit here, the man can’t get his goddamn eyes off you.”

“In hatred! Anyway no, just no. It would never happen.”

“So you don’t wanna fuck him, hmm?” Suguru grasps you by your wrists then, and you shake your head, crying out when he slides his fingers down your tummy, trembling under his hand. “What about if I have him eat this pretty pussy while you suck my cock?”

“Suguru, what!? Like he would. Silly- mnh… stop.” He’s rubbing your little entrance, and you start soaking his hand, embarrassingly.

“Don’t want us both to eat you out, at the same time?” You whine, pathetically, as Suguru grins then, so handsome and devious. “She sure does.”

“She’s stupid. I only want you.” Then you frown a bit, as you think of the situation you two are in. “S-Suguru… will you always want other women?”

He frowns too, shaking his head, kissing down your jaw. “If you ever wanted to be exclusive I would for you, Princess. Say the word.”

“Would it be like a sacrifice-”

“Not at all. I love the fun we have though. But I would not care if it didn’t happen. I think I need to give you some fun, make you feel so beautiful.” He's trailing his hands down your body ever so slowly, and your mind runs wild with visions.

“With Satoru, no, he… would never make me feel that way. Suguru, mnh… please just-”

“Why are you soaking my hand when you say his name?” He whispers those words, and you falter, as images of Satoru hit your eyes, and Suguru's fingers are getting soaked. You shake them away, but Suguru is observant. “He would only be so lucky to fuck you.”

“Do you think I’m really so pretty? When you have others that…”

“The prettiest. Prettiest tits, prettiest face, prettiest pussy.” You melt then, because no matter what fun you all have, it’s always together (exceptions would be when you all agree video is okay) and Suguru always makes you feel special. Maybe you worry too much.

“What if you find someone better?”

“Baby, what’s up with you?” He pulls back and you just sigh. “If this isn’t what you want just tell me...”

“I’m just down on myself.” You pout, and you watch Suguru's concern.

“I know, baby, I am so sorry.” He kisses you sweetly, and you melt, like you always do. “I’ll make sure he’s not a dick anymore. I swear. Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna go, though.”

“Then he wins, fuck that, go and look super hot, and ruin his little pea size brain okay?” You laugh just a bit, but things weigh on you.

Your relationship with Geto is so easy…

Aside from his dick of a friend.

Who hates you.

And who you're vividly picturing. Fuck.

Present

You keep your hands to yourself, your knees knocking together as you watch the game, the men running back and forth, dribbling the ball, throwing it, their sneakers squeaking on polished floors. Your eyes keep drifting over to him, though, and you notice Satoru’s eyes keep straying to your body, making you overheat.

The way his gaze lingers on your legs makes you squirm in your seat, and you can’t help but feel a thrill run through you, despite the tension. His icy glare is gone now, replaced with something softer, something that makes your stomach flip, his lips weren’t in a thin line, they were pouting just a bit. Suguru has a hand on your thigh, and he squeezes it, smiling.

You smile back at him. Why were you in the middle? Was this Suguru’s idea of making you all closer? But why does Satoru’s thigh brushing against yours do insane things to your psyche? Why does the scent of his cologne make you ache to snuggle him when he’s a damn asshole, when he would never want that.

You adore Suguru, when you met him at first it intimidated you, this wild lifestyle he led, but then he made you feel so good, and so included, that you ended up enjoying much of it. And several times now he’d brought up sharing you, only recently today sharing you with him . If Satoru didn’t hate you and call you unattractive, absolutely you would have.

But as it stood, you could tell he hates sitting next to you.

“I’m grabbing drinks, want one Princess?” Suguru asks, touching your hand to shake you out of your reverie. You have to strain to hear him in the loud throngs of the crowd cheering.

“I’ll go-”

“It’s fine, I got it. Satoru, you want a drink?” Satoru peers over at you, and you don’t see the usual anger, it’s a different look. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s different for sure.

“Yeah, can you just grab me a beer?” Suguru nods, looking back at you again, and you fidget, afraid to be alone with Satoru, even in a crowd.

“Same, please and thanks.” He smiles, leaning down and kissing you then, and he walks away, leaving the two of you awkwardly alone.

The team hits a big play, and you jump up with your little pom poms, wiggling them in the air, as Satoru jumps and shouts loudly. You all bump into each other a bit, and it makes you both tense, pulling away a bit. You scooch further from him when you all sit down again, but he spreads his stupidly long legs even wider, his hand resting next to you.

“I’m sorry I came along.” You say softly, and he looks back at you, sighing a bit, and his eyes make you lose your senses for a moment.

“Don’t be. Suguru wouldn’t come without you.” He brushes that off, so casually, and though that was the truth it was a little harsh to know.

“He would have, I would have made him.”

“Yeah well. It’s not like I’m paying attention to you, I’m watching the game anyway, so it doesn't matter.”

“Yeah, true. Though I wish Suguru would sit here.”

“Don’t like to sit next to me huh?” You roll your eyes, irritated by his haughty tone, and laugh just a bit, without humor.

“As if you like this.” He just studies you, and you almost wish he’d just be mean, because that’s easier to handle than whatever this intense fucking look is.

“Have I complained?”

“Because Suguru asked you to not be so mean.”

“Yeah well.”

No apology, of course. When would someone like Satoru Gojo apologize to you, of all people? You peer over at him in that white dress shirt and those slacks that hug him like a glove, his shades shoved up on his head worth more than your life. The glinting gold watch, where his sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms with veins wrapped around them.

You turn your attention back to the game, which was going into a bit of a break, leaving you even more awkward next to the man who hates you.

“Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you hate me so much? Like… did I offend you or something? Could you please just tell me what to do here?” You’re whispering it, since the words make you emotional, and Satoru’s lips turn down, brushing his silvery hair back with a hand, messing it up just a bit.

“You don’t need to know.” He says, and you glare then.

“I think I have a right to know. I can fix it? Maybe?”

“Can’t fix this.”

“Let me try maybe? I want to meet this amazing, funny, sweet guy Suguru swears you are, the one he loves so much.” You reach your hand out to his thigh, and he glares at it, then at you, his hand yanking yours off then, by your delicate wrist. You blink in confusion.

“You can’t fix why I hate you. Got it? And that doesn’t help. Makes it so much fucking worse.” He mumbles, not letting go of your wrist, his huge hand gripping it, taking it over.

“Sorry.”

“Why, you didn’t do anything. I hate you for nothing that you can control, does that make it better, knowing that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You make no sense. If you just tried to know me, you’d see I’m not the worst person ever. Regardless of how you think of my looks, you won’t even give me a chance internally.”

He lets your wrist go, sighing and looking into your eyes, but there’s not the usual anger even now. “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday.”

“Thank you for that. Even if you feel that way it’s just not nice to tell people that they’re… unattractive. Promise I say it in my own mind enough.”

“Then you’re stupid.”

“So I’m unattractive, and stupid, and you hate me.” You look down, those words wrecking you again, and you try not to show any emotion.

“You really think you’re not beautiful?” Your eyes meet, and he looks angry, again at you. You sigh, as your inner turmoil rages looking at him.

“I don’t think I’m beautiful at all. Lately I have been feeling pretty, thanks to Suguru, but that’s kind of new. It doesn’t matter anyway. If you think I’m ugly you don’t have to say it, or judge me for it. It doesn’t matter as much as who I am.”

“So you think what I said is true?”

“I’m sure you and Suguru both get much prettier girls. It’s fine. You’re both very attractive men.” Satoru stares at you more, and it makes you feel so confused, so weird, he won’t stop looking right at you. “What!?”

“You’re not unattractive. At all. I can’t believe I have to say this.”

“You don’t have to. Suguru put you up to-”

“You’re so beautiful all I can think of is how I wanna bury my cock in your pretty mouth.” His words are dangerous whispers, his hands gripping your thighs tight suddenly, and you can’t even think, your body reacting instantly, embarrassingly. “Can’t stop thinking about how badly I wanna fuck you over my desk. How I’d lick that little cunt right now with this stupid skirt driving me nuts.”

“Satoru… what…” You hate what his words do, what this asshole friend of your boyfriend says, his effect. Your nipples are taut against your bra, your tummy feeling that pressure, thighs shifting, and his gaze drops to them like a hawk.

“That’s why I hate you. Because all I think of is fucking my best friend’s girl. And yeah, he even brought it up, what you all do. Wanna know what I think?” He’s brushing your hair back behind your ear, and you’re losing all sense of self, everything fades to the background.

“What do you think?” He laughs, darkly then, his white teeth glinting from the bright fluorescents above.

“That if I had you I’d never want anyone else. That if I had to share you I’d be greedy. I’d lick you first, fuck you first, fuck you so good you can’t even think, can’t even walk. Wreck that little cunt.” His husky words shoot straight through you, the way he looks at you, this hunger in his gaze, it’s insane.

“Are you just fucking with me, Gojo? Is this a joke?” You demand through gritted teeth, and then he laughs again, but it doesn’t hit his eyes, the pupils so dilated the blue was truly hard to handle.

“I wish it was. I hate you because you’re you . You can’t fucking fix it, you can’t buy me expensive tickets, smile at me all pretty, it all makes it worse. Makes me want you more. And so I just hate you completely.”

You take a moment, struggling to process anything he was even saying, as your gaze drifts down his long, lithe body. Although you’d seen Suguru with women, and you’d been with women, you had never felt something like this, intense need clawing away at you. Even with Suguru, who you have such a good time with, you never felt whatever this is.

Was it hate?

What was it?

“I know, you’re so in love you won’t even fuck another guy when Suguru asks too. Loyal when he’s not.”

“We do everything together, or… like I know what he does. He doesn’t hide shit from me, Gojo. He treats me so good.”

“I am sure he does. He’s the best person I know. I just can’t see a world where I have you and want someone.”

His words hit too hard. It's so shocking from his usually cruel lips. “That’s crazy talk, you know, especially…”

“I didn’t mean what I said. Okay? Fucking stupid to think I did.”

“Aw you two are making up, huh?” Suguru sits next to you, handing you both a drink then, and you and Satoru tense up, as your mind whirls. “So, you all gonna fuck this frustration out or what?”

Your eyes go wide with shock, mouth dropping, and you shake your head quickly while you look at him. “Suguru, you can’t be serious about this.”

“Why not. Shoko is coming over tomorrow anyway, why don't we three party tonight.” He winks over at Satoru then.

“You’re gonna fuck Shoko, yuck.”

“Yep and you’re gonna fuck Princess here.” He pats your head, smiling, his eyes closing so adorably like he isn’t talking insane. “What, why can’t you have fun?”

“She doesn’t wanna fuck me.” Satoru says casually, and you gulp then, as he straight up says something so…

False.

“Are you sure about that?” Suguru murmurs, brushing your hair back until it is no longer on your chest, pulling your top back just a bit, and you feel yourself heating up when he’s got your hard nipples basically pressed against the top now. Satoru’s sultry blue gaze hits your breasts, lingering there. “Looks pretty excited to me.”

“Suguru!” You hiss, scowling back at his devious grin, but Satoru is licking his lower lip, making it all glossy, and one of his hands keeps clenching and unclenching into a fist.

“Nothing could make me happier than you two getting along, at least give it a chance. What if you like it, hmm?” He’s nuzzling your neck, and you shift in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.

“So you think I’ll fuck her and stop hating her?” Satoru drawls out the words slowly, and Suguru is just rubbing up and down your waist, heightening every insane sensation.

“It’s so good I know you will.”

“Suguru… I doubt that.” You mumble, shyly fidgeting with your thumbs, rolling them around over and over.

“What if I still hate her? Do I get to keep fucking her?” Satoru’s question throws you for a loop, the intent behind his stupidly pretty gaze washing over you, and you feel Suguru’s chuckle behind you.

“No, you have to be nice to her if you want to again.” You scowl at him, then over at Gojo.

“Do I not get a say? I’m not a fuck toy.” You hiss, and Gojo actually smiles then, and it surprises you, how pretty it is. Suguru kisses your neck, laughing against it, while you nervously sip your drink.

“Being out fuck toy does sound fun.” Suguru says softly. “It would be fun for you, too, don’t you think?”

“You really want me to wreck her? She won’t even want you again.” Satoru says, grinning, and Suguru just laughs, grinning back.

“Yeah, you can try but we all know it’s not happening.”

“Have I agreed?”

“Bet she’s soaked.” Suguru is lifting your skirt, in the middle of a game, even though you all were off in a section this was insane, and Satoru’s eyes dart down between your thighs, and you can’t hold in the little whine. “Feel her and find out for me, would you?”

“She doesn’t want me to.” Satoru’s voice is husky, then you feel your thin control snap, as you say fuck it all and take his hand. You meet his shocked gaze, then you look around, and put his hand on your thigh.

“Stop acting like you know me, Gojo.” You raise your brows then, and his smirk eats at you, his thumb sliding against your soft inner thigh making goosebumps prick along your skin.

“Y’know this is the most you have gotten along.”

“Am I up to caliber, though?” You whisper those words, and Gojo’s hand slides even further up, all while his other hand brushes against your hip, nearly touching Suguru’s hand.

“We’ll have to see huh?”

“Cocky little shit.”

“Oooh, so she does have some backbone huh?” Satoru’s grinning at you, with those sharp fangs glinting, lashes lowering over his eyes. And you feel Suguru’s grip tighten on your waist.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” Suguru snorts behind you.

“Okay… sex?” You both scowl over to Suguru again.

Sex, with Satoru Gojo?

“Why don’t you just fuck him, hmm?”

“Who’s to say he hasn’t?” Satoru blows Suguru a kiss and you sigh.

“Am I really gonna do this! With Satoru Gojo?”

“You should be so lucky, damn brat-”

“Satoru….” Suguru starts again, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Listen, I didn’t turn it down.” He slides his hand fully up, and when his thumb presses where you’re hot and sticky against your panties, his breath hitches, as does yours, both of you just stare at each other, unable to speak. For a long moment, until his thumb rubs in a gentle circle and you damn near whimper.

Fuck.

Yep you were going to do this.

***

In the car on the way home you are sitting next to Satoru and Suguru as their driver Kiyotaka takes you all back to Suguru’s place. Satoru is oddly quiet, you notice, poking around on his phone. You know he still hates you, but his hand is casually on your thigh now, rubbing in little circles, and Suguru is smiling down at you, popping little kisses on your forehead.

“You sure like her thighs for hating her so much.” Suguru murmurs lazily, and Satoru smirks, not looking up from his phone.

“I didn’t say I hate her body. Quite the opposite.” You struggle against the feelings raging inside of you. You had never done anything like this, as wild as you and Suguru were with women, it seemed so different, especially with Satoru. His hands are so big, even bigger than Suguru’s, his fingers are so long they take up most of your thigh.

“You like my legs hmm?” You say softly, and Satoru does lift his gaze from his phone, amused expression clear on his features.

“They’re really short, but they’re nice.” You laugh a bit at that, and it’s the first time you think you’ve laughed around him. His grip tightens a bit at the sound.

“Is that almost a compliment?” He shrugs a shoulder, poking back at his phone then.

“Bet they’d be nice around my face.” Your tummy clenches again at the words, at the imagery, and Suguru seems to pick up on that, his hand coming to your other thigh now, bringing your attention to him.

“You like that idea, Princess?” His voice is teasing, and you gulp, trying not to give Satoru so much satisfaction. But you just give a little nod. “Look at you two, I’m so proud right now.”

“Okay dad.” Satoru leans back some, his thighs even wider, god could he just sit normal you wonder, not pressed so against you. Suguru is the same way, and you’re pressed in the middle of the two of them, your body viscerally reacts, to the point you’re overheated.

“Wonder who you’ll call daddy?” Suguru teases you, and you flush.

“It’ll be me.” Satoru says, cocky and self assured.

“Nah, totally me.”

“Neither of you.” You say, crossing your arms, and they both look at each other, then back at you, grinning.

“You challenging us right now? That won’t end well for you.” Satoru says softly, leaning close, your breath catches with how he looks at you, so intent, his lips tempting you too closely.

Before you can speak, you’ve pulled up to Suguru’s place, and you thankfully can get out of the car, breathe air, but you now have no clue what you’re in for. The way Satoru’s hungry, lewd gaze and Suguru’s easy seductive one glaze over your body, the heat you clearly feel from both of them, the tension between the man who hates you and the man that really likes you…

What are you in for?

And in what world does it end well?”

***

Satoru’s POV

Satoru watches as Suguru leads you, hand in hand to his sleek condo, and as he looks around he wonders, where does he fuck you, where does he lick you? Where does he fuck other women with you? And why the fuck does that thought make him so angry for you. He loves Suguru, and he himself was quite open sexually, this isn’t the first time he and Suguru would share.

But he can’t even imagine having to take turns.

He wants to bring you back to his place, to fuck you senseless, make you forget anything you ever knew. He’d felt your heat, felt that sticky wetness, your soft skin… it was something that he had avoided, touching you in any way. He knew it would make everything ten times worse, and so it did.

When you turn to look up at him, with your gorgeous eyes, your lips parted just slightly, hair a little messy from the day, falling softly around your face… it takes everything in him not to throw you against a wall and fuck into you. It takes every effort not to snatch you up and literally be a horrible friend, take you away, this is what you do to him.

It’s why he hates you.

What effect did you have? And how the fuck could he take turns on you? But he can’t turn it down, no, he needs to feel you, and if this is how it happens, he’ll do it. Satoru Gojo is desperate for you, and that’s something he’s never been in his life, shit came easy for him. Why were you so difficult?

“Drinks? Let’s get drinks.” Suguru pats Satoru on the shoulder, then pats you on the ass, pressing you two together a bit. You look down shyly, long lashes casting shadows on your pretty features.

God you’re perfect, aren’t you?

“Still hate you.” Satoru mumbles, and you just look at him, brows furrowing a little bit, licking your lips and tempting him to no end. How would they feel on his cock, that little tongue sliding against his tip?

“I know you hate me. So why are you doing this?” You whisper, as you two awkwardly stand in Suguru’s living room alone, far too close. Satoru towers over you, you’re so small compared to him. He sees you’re nervous too.

“You’re stupid.” You scowl up at him, and fuck if you’re not stupidly hot when you do so. “I already told you why.”

“But it’s… not… you won’t… what if you don’t like it?” You mumble, and he watches insecurities eat you alive, how had he not noticed before? He just assumed because you’re so pretty you knew.

“What, you need practice sucking dick? Heard you like to eat pussy.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Or are you a pillow Princess?”

“I like to please.” Your eyes hit his body then, desire reflected in them, and he itches to touch you, he itches to be sweet to you, but he can’t. Nope.

“We’ll see if it’s passable. If not, I'll give some tips.” You laugh, a little bark of laughter, shaking your head.

“Suguru likes it just fine.”

“I sure do. She’s great at blow jobs.” Suguru hands you both a drink, and Satoru can’t stop his gaze locked on those supple, full lips of yours. “Guess what, believe it or not Satoru’s good at eating pussy. From what I’ve seen. But, I’m better.”

“No way, you know I’d win.” Suguru looks at you, and you’re all flushed in the cheeks as you delicately sip your drink. Why is every movement you make just torturing him?

“He’s really, really good though. Licked an accidental I love you out of me.” You tease, and Suguru laughs at that, but you look a little sad he notices.

“Ya didn’t say it back, Sugu?” Suguru grows serious for a moment at Satoru’s obvious question.

“It’s just still early, and she kind of… took it back.”

“I was embarrassed for sure.”

Imagine those words from your lips. Satoru’s grip is so tight on the glass he feels it will just break, shutting his eyes for a moment and sucking in a breath. Was he really going down this path, knowing what would happen when you would touch him, when he would taste you? Knowing he’d get more obsessed, fuck it was just so much easier to hate you.

But how could he turn it down?

It would be such a shitshow but so worth it.

“We’ll have to see who’s better, huh?” Suguru teases, smirking over at Satoru, and he just eyes your perfect little form slowly, humming to himself.

“First, less clothes.” Satoru says softly, and watches your nervous habits, how you bite your lower lip so hard you leave teeth marks, how your hands tremble as you set your drink down. “You're scared, huh?”

“Nope. Sure not.” He smirks at you, but that freezes when you slip your shaky little fingers to your top, popping open one button, then the other, and he has to grip the fuck out of the counter next to him. Your soft, supple skin is revealed with each one, until your breasts spill out, just left in a lacy blue bra.

Fuck he could cum just seeing you.

“Not bad.” He is so full of shit, and Suguru is rolling his eyes, you blink a little, looking down. Fuck he hates himself. But if he’s sweet to you… “Let’s see the rest then I’ll judge.”

“She’s beautiful.” Suguru comes and you lift your long hair out of the way, and he easily unsnaps your bra, then slides it down your shoulders, kissing them, the way Satoru wants to, but he wouldn’t be gentle like Suguru, not if you were his. He would suck and bite every inch of your skin. “There we go, Princess.”

He lets your bra fall to the floor, and you’re bare from the waist up, and he sees them then, your lush breasts, perfect and pretty. Your little nipples are puffy and pronounced, begging for his mouth on them, for his fingers to pinch them. And you just stand there, your shoulders set high, as Satoru eats you up, and fuck if you’re not the most perfect thing he’s seen.

Suguru looks at Satoru, his dark eyes seductive in their glint, as if he could tell how badly Satoru wants you. Your perfect breasts are heaving with your panting little breaths, while Suguru is running his hands down your slender little arms. You look at Satoru, then Suguru, then down, as if you’re a little shy finally.

“Um… up to caliber?” You ask, and he hears it, the bitterness in your sultry little voice. And you should be bitter, mad, fuck you shouldn’t let him see this, should you? But here you are, and you look so fucking gorgeous he can’t take it.

He steps up to you then, taking two fingers and tilting your chin up, looking into those eyes he’d made cry yesterday. “Gorgeous.”

You gasp, and Suguru grins then, pecking a little kiss on your neck, as Satoru’s hands trail down your face, your throat, that delicate collarbone, and he watches your breaths increase. He can hear that little whine you try to hide from the back of your throat, he can feel your energy, your heat near him.

“Told you, baby. You’re beautiful.” Suguru is right, of course he is, and Satoru is damn near speechless at a pair of tits, it’s pathetic. You make him pathetic, don’t you, it’s why…

He should hate you.

No he does hate you.

But…

“Thank you… both.” You whisper, and Satoru doesn’t deserve your thanks, for one stupid word, when you were so much more.

You should hate him.

Why don’t you?

“Why don’t you feel them, Satoru? How nice they are.” Suguru is running his hand around your waist, pressing your breasts up then, and you’re crying out softly, that pleasure on your face making you so sexy. Satoru’s hands slide down, and he feels them, the weight in his hands, and he can’t hold back his own moan then.

Your eyes fly to his, as he cups your breasts in his big hands, and he sees it then, clear as fucking day. You want him. As his thumbs brush your nipples, and your head leans back, for Suguru’s mouth to kiss up the side of it, one of your little hands clutch his shirt, pulling him closer, the other, on one of Suguru’s arms.

“Perfect.” Satoru says softly, and you gasp, but then Satoru leans so close to your lips, you start to shake in Suguru’s hold.

“Perfect.” Suguru agrees, and Satoru watches you melt then, as his lips descend, and he can taste your sweet breath on his lips, it intoxicates him to no end. “You gonna kiss him, Princess?”

You lean up, as he leans down, and your hand slides up to Satoru’s face then, so tiny, a thumb swiping over his lower lip, and then Satoru’s eyelids are low over his eyes, as he presses his lips to yours. You moan at it, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear, vibrating his lips, and then Satoru knows it, knows it when he melts into your kiss, knows it when his tongue swipes into your hot mouth.

It’s all over for him.

And he hates you for it.

***

Your POV

Satoru’s lips send electrical sparks through yours, it’s absolutely insane, as his big hands knead your breasts, and Suguru is hard against your lower back, his big hands on your hips, pressing. But when Satoru’s tongue slides in your mouth, and you drink in his moans? When you taste his breath, when you feel that slick start to dribble from your little cunt?

Fuck. This is bad, it’s bad. It’s bad.

“Hate you.” He whispers then, right on your lips, right when his eyes drink you in lazily, when he squishes your breasts in his hands. It was so quiet you don’t even think he spoke, more moved his lips and you understood.

Satoru Gojo hates you.

Right?

Chapter 2

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

[newtkive]

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

__

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Vlad. Just... Vlad.

I like writing Vlad as a bad guy - he is convenient when evil. Need an antagonist? Here's a solid choice. I also like writing Vlad as redeemed - he has the potential to be good and nice and even caring. He's not an evil by core character, he's just in great need of therapy.

But my absolute favorite way of writing Vlad is the slightly condescending absent parent who doesn't like kids but still cares about them.

He won't do great with actual babies, yes, he is not sweet, he doesn't smile a lot, and he views kids as nuisances most of the time. But at the same time, he doesn't brush them off when they come to him. Jazz wants to go to an Ivy League college? Yeah, okay, he'll pay for it no questions asked. Because student loans are a bitch and Jazz is smart and she is his now. They don't get along, they barely talk, but she is his. Danny is mad at something about Infinite Realms business and snaps at him for no reason? Vlad is never one to back down from a fight, and by the end of it Danny is not so fuming anymore, and Vlad got to test his new ectoblast. Dani is back from her travels and decides to unload all her new bizarre stories on him? He is not interested, but he'll listen because otherwise she is going to start pouting and roll her eyes, and he doesn't want to deal with that. Dan asks if he could go hunt some ghost vultures for sport on his grounds? Danny might get mad later, but that's none of Vlad's concerns, and, besides, those vultures were starting to get annoying lately.

He's just... not a good parent and not a good person. He is mostly decent.

But the thing is, all the ex-Fenton kids don't need a good parent in terms of 'friendly, sweet and nice', they've had Jack and Maddie, they know the friendliness doesn't really mean shit. What they need is an adult that will back them up with no reprimand and then fuck off right after.

And Vlad is perfect in that sense.

What's funny about this is that when Phantoms/Masters meet Waynes/Bats, the latter ones are a bit thrown off by this dynamic. Like, what do you mean your adoptive father is your former arch-nemesis? What do you mean he didn't really stop doing his evil schemes? Surely he can't be good! Meanwhile, Danny just shrugs.

On the other hand, what do you mean your father won't allow you to do what you want? What do you mean he acts on your behalf? Does he not trust you with your own decisions? And Batkids are just 'he means well'. Yeah, well, Vlad also means well (most times), but he doesn't ground anyone? If Bruce means well, then why do you all act like you're annoyed with him?..

[hoe4sports]

Guardian angel

Leah Williamson x Alessia Russo x child

A note from the author: Another glimse into the universe of musli.

Warning: Angst? Night terrors? Boys??

Summary: You try to start kindergarten, but Leah comes to a realisation.

-

You can feel your heart beaming in your chest. The beats are hard, almost painful. It feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest, and run away to a place of safety. A place that you have yet to find. You stand behind the corner of the hallway scared to peek out while Alessia and Leah is arguing. You had woken up hearing them argue. Their voices angry, both filled with rage. Your worst nightmare had cometrue. You made the two women hate each other. The only fosterhome you had felt somewhat safe in, was falling apart because of you. You remeber how your foster brother, Sebastian, would tell you that his parents was splitting up because of you. It makes your tiny hands tremble. You felt a gulp in your throat, but at the same time it was screaming for water. Tears linger in your eyes before you violently try to rub them away. You swallow a sob terrified to bring attention to yourself.

“I hate you! I hate her! Why do we even let her stay?!” Leah yells after Alessia who moves to stand behind the couch in the middle of the room.

“Stop being a bitch about it, we can just get rid of it!” Alessia hurries back at Leah.

Leah frowns.

“Oh, now, NOW, I know i understand! Where is she? Where is the problem??!”

They both turn to look at you as you tumble out of your hiding spot. You dont understand why you end up tumbling out from your hiding spot. Leah laughs in a way that immediately makes you want to cry. She sounds like one of the evil stepmothers on the princess movies.

“You! You are the problem! Y/N, come here! You are leaving now! Out!” Leah scream at you before they both start chasing you down the hallway.

Your feet picks up and you run as fast as you can before you reach the guest room that you remind yourself are only borrowing. Everything feels like a blur. Your hands try to cling to the door in an attempt to unlock it. But you can’t get the door open. It seems stuck. Your hands arent strong enough. You try as hard as you can. But it won’t budge. Not even when you use all the force in your body.

You turn around to face the two women who are slowly creeping up on you. They have devilish looks on their faces, and you cry hysterically in panic.

“Please, Please, Mrs.Alessia, I’ll leave! I promise, don’t hurt me!”

You cry back, but they won’t listen. They just keep their scary smiles plastered on their faces while slwly moving towards you. You don’t know what to do. Alessia’s eyes look kind of black, you notice. It scares you even further. You scream as the pair of them comes up close to you with the most intense smiles you have ever seen. You close your eyes in terror as you scream and cry. The panic sets in.

“Mommy!! I want mommy! Mommy, please, please! Please, come get me mommy! Don’t hurt me please, I’m-I’m gonna be good, I promi-

That’s when you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, you can feel a sensation of someone shaking you gently. It startles you. You jerk in shock. You feel out of breath. Your hands are clinging to your eyes, terrified to open them.

“Y/N? Love, it’s okay. It’s just a dream”

Just a dream, you think. You are not sure if you believe it. You open one of your eyes slowly and see Alessia hunched down next to you on the carpet. Your body is feeling sweaty, and you are exhausted. Every part of your body feels tense. Leah is standing in the doorway with a sad look on her face while giving you a sad smile.

You look at Alessia with panic in your eyes. The realisation has hit you, you woke them up.

“I’m-I’m so sorry Mrs.Alessia, I didn’t mean too. Plea-Please, don’t send me away. I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet, I pinky promise” you sob as you wobble your lower lip.

Alessia sends you a sad, but comforting look before opening her arms to you. “It was just a nightmare, angel. We are not mad at you, not ever.”

This happens again and again. You have nightmares that won’t go away. You worry that they will get tired of it, tired of spending time comforting you, tired of being woken up by screaming. But she dosent get tired. She does this every night, hold her arms open. Secretly, she hopes for the day you will hug her back. To allow yourself to be a little girl. Because that’s what you are. Just a little girl that needs love.

Musli always follows them into the room when you cry. He always falls asleep next to you, and when you are sound asleep; he retrieves to get food and cuddles before he comes back for the night. He stands next to Alessia, and he purrs while bonking his head at her. You look at them. You remember what your mom always said about cats. If a cat trust someone and like them, then they are good people that you can trust. Cats are better at judging peoples charater.

You don’t know why, but one night you throw yourself to her. You hold on to her like she is the last flotie and you are in the middle of the ocean. Alessia silently hushes you while holding you tight and rocking you gently back and forth. Her hand resting on the back of your head while walkin gback and forth. It feels nice. Almost safe. Like one of the mommy hugs you would get when you hurt your toe outside. But you never dare to hug her back. Feelings come rushing down your throat, and you feel a sob sneaking out of your body. Then you cry, and cry and cry and cry until eventually pass out in exhaustion.

The following mornings follows the same rhythms. Night terrors in the middle of the night. Alessia and Leah takes turns in holding you and comforting you. You pass out from crying. Then, you wake up in your new bed with musli licking your face. Using his loud purrs, he tries his best to soothe you. He is always calm. It makes you wonder if this place might be safe.

You stumble out of your bedroom feeling frightened that your new foster moms might have left you alone for the day. It’s not unusual, plenty of families used to leave you alone. Claiming you were a big girl. But, your new guardians are always at the kitchen, always waiting for you with a warm breakfast. At first, you thought it was just for show. Like when your old fosters would dress you up all nice and give you a shower before your social worker would arrive. But by each day that goes, the care feels less than just for show. For a split second, you believe that perhaps someone might care about you.

You aren’t old, just four. Four fingers. All of your fingers except for your thumb. Just four. You already know you can’t trust anyone. People always turn on you, but that’s okay. It is because you always misbehave. But your last foster family would leave you alone for hours upon end if you misbehaved. Misbehaving would be things like not get yourself up in time, eat too much, make noise or complain. It scared you to the point of shaking, you never wanted to misbehave. There was always so many rules at every new house, and it was hard to know what rules belonged to what house. It was confusing. You wish you could write, that way you could note down the rules. But you can’t even spell your name. Because you are just four.

In your last family, you weren’t allowed to pet the dog. You weren’t even allowed to touch the dog. But here, at Leah and Alessia’s house; Musli gets to sleep in your bed. He even sleeps next to you after Leah and Alessia has said goodnight and you crawl to lay on the big carpet. It’s nice, you decide. It feels like somewhat of a routine. You think you like that. If things are predictable, then you won’t misbehave, and then they won’t kick you out.

But this morning; it’s different. When you wake up, you see Alessia. She is gently shaking you to wake you up, but you feel scared. You instantly shoot up thinking that you did something wrong. That you might have misbehaved in your sleep.

“I-I’m sorry, Mrs.Alessia. I’ll do better tomorrow, I pinky promise!” You beg as tears once again stream down your red cheeks. Your cheeks that are always painted with beautiful roses. The tears aren’t normally allowed at fosterhomes, so you wipe your eyes so hard that your vision becomes fuzzy. Because you cannot misbehave.

But Alessia isn’t angry. She smiles at you before tucking your hair behind your ear. She squats down, and seems like she is inviting you in for a hug. You haven’t had a proper hug for a long time, only the ones you get when you have nightmares. But, you barely remember them. The only hugs you’ve had from other than Alessia and Leah: was mommyhugs and daddyhugs. You decided that the hug from Alessia is a test, so you just look down into the ground hoping that you made the right choice. Because you are terrified to misbehave. To take up too much space. You worry about what your new moms are like when they are mad. A part of you thinks that they are gentle. Like if Leah and Alessia becomes upset with you, you think that they might let you have the bed. And if they take your bed away, you still have the soft carpet.

Alessia gives you a sad smile before sitting down on her knees. You give her your best smile while trying to silent your sobs. Alessia’s heart breaks into a million little pieces when she sees you, a four year old, trying to soothe herself. She can only hope for the day when you let them into your heart because she knows that you have already filled up theirs.

“We are going shopping for you today, love. We have the day off, and kindergarten is starting up soon”.

You look at them in confusion. First at Leah, then at Alessia. What things, you think. You feel worried, have you lost something? And why do you have to be sent away?

“But first, breakfast” Alessia encourages you, and you immediately go to find your special chair. This is a part of the routine that you know by heart. After breakfast, it’s the same routine too. You put your plate in the dishwasher, you go get whatever clothes you can find in your drawer and Leah helps you brush your teeth before Alessia does your hair. You decide that you like it. The routines. It makes you feel like you might be able to trust them. Like you can predict what will happen. When they pamper you, it feels like you are four years old and not some kind of mini adult.

-

When you get to the mall, it’s big. It’s much bigger than any place that you have ever been at. Alessia says that it’s called Westfield. You think it sounds fancy. Expensive. You feel scared once you realise that you do not have any money. You only have your little stuffie, Meow. He is the only thing you own and you hold him tight scared that he might be taken away from you.

Leah hops out of the car, and unbuckles you. The carseat they put you in feels soft and comfortable. Normally, your fosters never take you anywhere. You and Leah meet Alessia in-front of the car. It feels scary when you look around you. There are cars parked everywhere, and more people than you have ever seen before.

You look up at Alessia with a scared look on your face. She instantly squats down to your level.

“It can feel overwhelming to be here for the first time. That’s okay, Leah feels overwhelmed with going to the mall too.”

You look over at Leah who nods at you. It makes you smile shyly.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

You look at Alessia before you nod. Holding hands. Normally, your foster family never lets you hold their hands. You decide to take advantage of the opportunity. Your mom would always hold your hand when going to the park. It’s a good memory. Perhaps you can go to the park with Leah one day.

You grab Alessia’s hand and look at Leah. You offer her to hold the paw of mr.meow that is safely in your left hand. She takes it, and it sneaks a slight giggle out of you. The giggle makes Alessia and Leah’s hearts flutter. It’s the first time they have heard you giggle.

-

You arrive at the store that your new foster moms have picked out for you to go to. At the front of the store, there are statues with clothes on them. You like the dresses that they are wearing. They are pink and with ruffles. It also looks like it’s a twirly dress, you used to love twirly dresses.

In the store, you don’t really know what to do. You never shop. People usually never get things for you. You just stand there with mr.meow in your hand looking around you. There are crying kids everywhere, it confuses you. Why are they allowed to leave the house if they cry? You decide that it’s because they got lucky with their parents than you.

“Here, what do you think about this dress?”

Alessia holds out a pink dress with hearts on it. It surprises you, but you look her way. You touch the fabric with your hands. It feels soft. You smile shyly and nod to Alessia. Leah immediately grabs it and puts it in the basket before you deny the gift.

“What about this skirt? Maybe with this top?”

Alessia holds out a skirt this time. It’s made out of the same material as your jeans, and it has sown in pink stars at the bottom. The top next to it is a sweater. It’s a white sweater with a little bow on the neckline. You nod.

This is how the whole shopping trips goes. They suggest something, and you nod. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, because you really are. You just don’t know how to tell them that you want something or not want something. Luckily, Alessia seems to know what little girls like to wear.

After walking through the clothes part of the store, you spot the toy department. It has a bunch of toys. Anything from teddies to trains to barbie dolls. Your eyes glides across the area, quickly scanning the toys.

Then you see it. You stop in your tracks. It’s a cupboard, a little taller than you in the shape of a house.It has doors and carvings, and windows. Inside the house is a series of mice from Maileg. Your eyes light up when you see them. It’s the same mice you got from your mom. She would collect them for you. You would call it your them your “little mouse”.

Alessia notices your sudden interest in the display, and takes a step towards it. Your feet follow along as you near the mice. You can see them. It’s all kinds of mice. Its a set with a mommy and daddy mouse in wedding outfit, it’s a kit with a wooden fridge filled with little realistic pieces of food, it’s a box shaped like a matchbox with three triplet baby mice in it. Then there is the princess mouse, she has atleast 10 mattresses. There is all kinds of accessories too. A kit with a bathing suit, swim giggles and beach towels. A circus kit with a circus ball and a clown. A mouse with a tent and binoculars. There are also clothes for the mice, and hangers for their clothes and beds and little furniture for the mice.

But at the corner of your eye, it’s a special box that catches your eye. It’s a teal box in the shape of a suitcase with gold dots and gold letters on it. Your right hand drop Alessia’s hand and left hand drops mr.meow who is still holding Leah’s hand. You eagerly open the box, and your hopes are confirmed. It’s a guardian angel mouse. Not just any kind, but the same kind your foster dad took away from you for not sharing it with your foster brothers. It’s the same kind your mom gave you to have in your backpack when you started nursery as a baby. You would also bring it to see your grandparents and when you went to the park. You open the box, and the same mouse that you had earlier is right in front of you. It has a pink dress, white wings and a little yellow halo. At the corner of your eyes, water is gathering. It makes you feel embarrassed, but also desperate. Desperate because you want it. You want it more than anything else in the whole world. Maybe not more than you want your mom and dad, but it’s a close call. You consider to put it in your pocket and take it. But that would be wrong. But you really want it.

Alessia and Leah seems to have catch on because Leah squats down next to you. She dries the tear that has escaped your eye.

“Take it, little miss. I’ll get it for you”

You look over at Leah. You want to smile and be happy, but you feel unsure. Is this a test? The mice is expensive. You know this because mommy told you so. She said it was lots of pounds for a tiny mice, that this was something you had to use your birthday wish to get it. But knowing your mom, she got it for you. Just like she knew you would need it one day.

“Maybe, it can be a birthday gift? Or Christmas gift? Or I can try to pay you back?”

You suggest out of desperation, not wanting to accept it without a play to repay them.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. We will get it for you. Is there anything else you would like to go with it?”

You look at the display, but shake your head. You only want the guardian angel mouse. The stupidly expensive mice with the little pink dress. Secretly, you want another mouse to keep it company. Maybe a little bed for them to sleep in, but you don’t wanna seem ungrateful.

“Thank you, Leah” you say as you choke a sob. You feel an overwhelming feeling of gratefullness. Grateful to be with Leah and Alessia. Grateful to have a memory of your mom. Grateful to be allowed a toy.

-

When you get home that day, you go through all your old clothes with Alessia. Leah had to go to buy groceries, so she isn’t helping out. Alessia lay your clothes out on the floor. It’s weird, you think. Your mommy would do the same thing. Your clothes aren’t much to brag about. Some of them have stains and others are too small. Some of them have holes and others are worn out.

The pieces of clothing are carefully sorted into piles before placed in bags. Your old clothes that are in decent condition gets put back into the dresser. Then, Alessia carefully folds your new clothes and place them into the dresser filling it up completely.

“All set for your big adventure tomorrow!” Alessia cheers at you. You feel confused.

“Am I being sent away? I just need a black bag and I-”

“No, we are not sending you away. We will never just send you away. Tomorrow, we are going to see your new kindergarten. Then, you will stay there for a few hours until we pick you up.”

“Uhm, why? Am i bad?”

“Me and Alessia will go back to work. Mondays and Thursdays, you will get to go to kindergarten to play with other kids. It will just be a few hours, I promise.”

Alessia confirms while carefully closing your drawers. You can’t help but feel scared that they will forget to pick you up.

“..oh”

You feel sad with the explanation. A part of you wonders why you can’t come with them to work. It feels safe to be with them at all times. That way, you can make sure to always be a joy to be around. However, if you aren’t there. You can’t keep track of what the adults are talking about. If they are talking about getting rid of you.

-

The next morning comes around, and soon enough you were standing inside of the kindergarten. You had been to kindergartens before, but your old foster parents forgot you there. There were plenty of kids. Some were crawling while others were running. There was even a girl in a wheelchair. Everyone seemed so happy busy playing with all the toys you could even dream of.

However, you don’t play with any of the toys. You had been placed at the little table next to the crayons and sheets to draw. But, you dont draw. You are just observing everyone around you. Everything around you. The buzz of the room is loud, and every know and then someone cries.

A young woman comes walking over to you, and sits down across for you. She has a name tag, and she is a grown up. She grabs a sheet and a pink crayon before she starts drawing. You look at her while she draws. You notice how she sticks her tongue out in concentration. Her hands are busy drawing at top speed. After a while, she turns the drawing around towards you.

“It’s a dandelion”

You take a look at it. Dandelions are yellow, you think. But you don’t dare to correct her. You nod while looking at her, your hand pressing the little mouse in your pocket.

“It’s pretty” you whisper back.

She smiles at you, but you don’t smile back.

“Do you want to help me color it in?” She suggests. Your eyes widen at the idea. Your mom would draw pictures for you to color in. You immediately nod, and she giggles before signing for you to come over to her side.

“Do you wanna sit on the chair?” She asks. You shake your head rapidly.

“Okay, do you want to sit on my lap?” You nod. That is what feels the safest. Not because you trust her, but because then she can’t leave you if you color outside of the lines.

You get handed a yellow crayon, and you carefully color inside the lines. Then, you grab the brown crayon, and color the middle. Eventually, you finish your Colouring. The woman lifts it up and smiles.

“You are an artist!” She cheers at you while rubbing your shoulders. You look down and blush.

After colouring, the group moves on to lunch. It smells like tomato sauce, it’s your favourite meal. You love tomato sauce, pasta and minced beef together. It was one of your childhood favourites, just like you mommy would make whenever you had a bad day.

A plate gets placed on the mat infront of you, and you get handed a fork. It’s like the one at home, the kids sized forks. It’s nice, it feels safe. But then you feel a wave of feelings hitting you. You tear up as your lower lip wobble, and you drop your fork in the heat of the moment. All the kids turn to look at you, and you feel terrified.

Your hand goes into your pocket, to hold your guardian angel mouse. It might give you some well needed soothing. But before you are able to hold it for long, a boy points to your mouse and screams something along the lines of “no toys at the table”.

The anxiety kicks in, and suddenly you launch yourself off your chair before sprinting into the warderobe hiding behind your jacket. You sit there and sob while an older woman tries to console you; but it dosent work. She tries to be gentle, but ends up feeling frustrated. When she asks you to place the mouse in your backpack, you cry harder and push your face towards the wall while the tears are streaming down.

Then, the young woman that helped you color takes over for the old woman. She sits down next to you; she dosent touch you, she dosent yell and she is whispering words of encouragement to you. After a while, you feel exhausted from crying and you start to fall asleep in your hiding spot. The woman gently touches your shoulder before scooping you up in her arms. You look at her, half awake with a puzzled look.

“Just sleep princess, I’ll call your parents”

-

Leah is out in physio when it happens. Her phone buzzes, and she stops the treatment on her knee to answer the call. She feels a lump in her throat when she hears the voice of the woman from the kindergarten, and she feels directly alarmed when she hears your sobs lingering in the background.

“I’ll be there in five, thank you for calling” she finishes before sprinting out of the session, not giving a care about the no running restrictions that she is on. Her feet takes her to the field where she immediately spots Alessia.

“Lessi, we have to leave! It’s y/n” she yells grabbing the attention of the whole group. Alessia’s eyes widen. Leah is never stressed. She only remember her being stressed when their cat disappeared for 24 hours. She knows that this is an emergency and she quickly releases herself from the resistance band that she has got herself hooked onto. The pair of the sprint to the car before speeding to the kindergarten, both women still in their kits.

By the time they pull up to the kindergarden, you are hysterically crying again. The pair of them practically abandon their car in the middle of the parking lot, they can already hear your cries through an open window. And the cries are heartbreaking. The girls share a terrfied look wondering what could possibly have gone wrong. Leah starts running towards the entrance getting a hand on the doorknob before Alessia catches up and holds her back by the shoulder.

"Lee, we have to be calm. She dosent need to see us worried or scared. I know you want to get to her, but we need to be calm." Alessia stressed at Leah. Leah crossing her arms over her chest before realising that Alessia was right. She takes a deep breath, trying her best to seem calm and collected.

"Let’s go get our girl" Leah says as she opens up the door to the kindergarden eyes immediately scanning the room to find you.

-

You are still sat behind your jacket, still crying. Nobody really knows what set you off, and you are not sure either. Perhaps its the overwhelming feeling of being one of 20 kids or perhaps its the lunch reminding you of your parents. The boy that called you out for having your mouse in your pocket, definitly played a part in it.

You arent sure why you feel like this, but when you see your fostermoms: you feel desperate . As Alessia is walking next to the teacher, Leah is practically jogging towards you. You only see her throught your tearsoaked eyes and reach your hands towards her begging for a sense of comfort. Leah's hands reach for you and scoop you up almost on autopilot.

Leah holds you tight as you sob leaning your head into her chest while your tiny hands are cluthing her shirt. She softly hushes you while bouncing you slowly back and forward in her arms. She whispers soothing words into the top of your head. The warmth of leah and the loud beating of her heart makes you feel sleepy. You yawn mid sob before falling asleep in Leah's arms.

"Leah, i can carry her. You need to be careful with your leg. Here, take her jacket instead." Alessia insists reaching her hands towards you. Leah instantly turns you away from Alessia feeling like you are too fragile to be removed. Leah dosent care that her leg hurts, she just cares that you are feeling safe.

"I'll carry her, shes my kid" Leah mumbles holding a hand on your head pressing it into her shirt while walking towards the exit. The only thing she can think of is how she wants to protect you. How she needs to make sure that you are safe. Alessia gives an apologetic look to the teacher before catching up with Leah. Alessia lays her hand on Leah's back.

“Leah, she isn’t ours. Not yet at least, and for all we know they might have a family for her” Alessia remind her sending shivers down Leah’s back.

"I dont care about laws and your opinion, im never letting her go back into another fosterhome. Or another home. Or to this stupid kindergarten. She’s coming with me to work. Im not asking, Alessia. Im telling you. She has been through enough in four years. She deserves the world, and I’ll give it to her. I’ll call the social worker first thing tomorrow.”

Leah holds you tight, sheltering your face from the wind. Alessia feels pride when hearing Leah speak about you, because Alessia wants to add you to their family too.

"Its okay Lee, we will find a way"

[aquaglow]

confidence guide for awkward girls 💫

LEARN TO SHUT UP. this is the first advice because it is probably the most important one, but the one that took me the longest to comprehend and master. girl, literally just shutting the fuck up does wonders. most of the times I was embarrassed out of my mind was coz I said something completely avoidable, only because I believed that being quiet was either rude or more awkward than whatever I rambled at that moment. bzzt, WRONG! being quiet means first of all being non-reactive, which gives you time to really reflect on what's being said and whether or not it even requires a response, and guess what; like 80% of the time, it does not. you are allowed to not respond, nod along, go "hmm" or "oh!" and leave it at that.

LEARN TO "FAKE" SMILE. this may seem controversial but it helps me so much. I've always been accused of looking mean, bitchy or just too serious, especially since I started to shut the fuck up (see previous item). and I am guilty as charged: I do have a RBF and when I am focused my eyebrow goes ò_o and I look judgemental and almost evil, and when I tried to balance it out by being funny or witty, it just came off even more awkward. the solution? I've started practicing a fake smile in front of the mirror when I was about 13 years old until I got the muscle memory of it so perfectly that now it's my response to nearly everything that I don't want/can't respond to. throwing an easy smile into a conversation will make you seem relaxed and in control even if you're bubbling anxious inside, and people will feel more at ease with you. also: learn to be generous with compliments, and try to make them your auto-response as well!

STOP COMPARING YOURSELF. comparison is the mark of insecurity and envy, and it's one of the ugliest and most useless habits you can have. yes, useless: what benefit do you get from comparing your face and body and circumstances to somebody else's? and please don't pretend you're getting "inspiration" from them. listen, you are your own lane. you are your entire universe. there is no other life to be lived, no other body to embody. this is it. these are the cards you were dealt with. the longer you try to peak into somebody else's cards, the longer you'll be ignoring yourself and neglecting your game. abandon ideas such as comparison, imitation or judgement towards others. confidence starts and ends with focusing on yourself.

LEARN TO CUT PEOPLE OFF. accumulating people in your life like they're pokémon is gonna be your downfall, because it's obvious not everyone can stay. imagine if a growing tree held onto all its leaves and branches, even the ones in obvious decay, how ugly and weak that tree would be, how much energy those dying parts would steal from the new ones in need of flourishing. it's the same with relationships. when someone disrespects you, hurts you, or simply doesn't align with you anymore, and you find excuses to keep this person around, what you're doing is betraying yourself, and how are you gonna have confidence in someone who betrays you? learn to cut people off or to simply let them go, and watch yourself become lighter and brighter.

QUIT BEING A BITCH. something people don't seem to understand is that the rude, conceited, mean girl persona is always revealed to be a small, petty and insecure rat on the inside. I've wasted years of potential connections trying to emulate the Blair Waldorf-y, Regina George-y vibes, trying to balance out my awkwardness with what I thought was their fierceness, because I was missing the whole point that their confident selves were lies. no girl or woman who is confident in herself spends any amount of time being a bitch, scheming to take people down, minding everyone else's business to make sure she stays on top. true confident people are kind even in the face of rudeness, they glow in shadows; their strength lies in tenderness. the sooner you give this mean girl show up, the better.

ABANDON YOUR NEED FOR APPROVAL AND COMPREHENSION FROM OTHERS. seeking approval is a very obvious trap but seeking comprehension is also dangerous, because the second people start doubting or questioning you – which is always going to happen when you decide to make a change of habits, traits, lifestyle etc – and you decide to explain yourself, you're accepting the premise that what you're doing is incomprehensible. if you're truly sure of yourself, there will be no need to assure others of yourself. if your peers or strangers don't understand it, so what? that's their enigma to sort out. respond to yourself and yourself only. if you understand and approve yourself, that's all you need, period. live for your damn self.

GOOD LUCK, LITTLE STARS 💫

[irishmammonagenda]

"Solomon?" You ask, eyes unblinking like a lizard as you stare at your favourite Rat Bastard. "You know how you're immortal?"

Solomon turns to you in mock shock, "Really? Why I never wouldve guessed."

You deadpan. "It was a serious question."

Solomon smirks his usual evil smirk, which to anyone else observing would look like a pleasant smile. "Yes, and what about me being immortal, MC?"

"Well, did you ever know Merlin?" You tilt your head as Solomon's smile falters for a split second before he fixes it.

"..."

"Solomon?"

"Yes, I knew Merlin."

"Before or after you became a Rat Bastard?" You ask him, eyes trained on his pretty smile. (evil grin)

"Well...I may or may not've been good friends with him..."

"Do you think I could meet him?" You ask, bouncing one of your legs after you sit down on Solomon's workbench.

Solomon moves towards you, something flashing in his eyes for a split second before his hands find their rightful place around your waist. "No."

"Why not?" You pout.

"Because I'm the only famous sorcerer in your life." He states, that something flashing in his eyes once more. Something animalistic. If Solomon was a demon, you were sure his demon form would sprout out.

"What about Maddi?" You raise an eyebrow.

Solomon scoffs. "You hate Maddi. You put on a mask with Michael's face on it, and then tried to drown her in a ditch."

You shrug. "I'm just mad the bitch didn't drown."

"She did damage her oesophagos though." Solomon smiles evilly, actually evilly this time.

"So why can't I meet Merlin. I want his autograph." You bring th conversation back to the topic at hand, your flustered gaze trained to where the Great Sorcerer holds you by the waist possessively.

Solomon scoffs once more, grey eyes narrowed in on you. "And why do you want his autograph?"

"Because he's the greatest sorcerer to ever live? Duh."

Solomon's grip tightens at that. His brows furrow.

"...No he's not." The silver-haired sorcerer replies after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yes he is."

"No he's not." Solomon glares at you, grip tightening once more, it's almost painful. "I can give you my autograph if you yearn for one that badly. End of."

"But-" You pout, eyes flickering with the flame of mischief, wanting to see how far you can take this.

Solomon's eyes snap up and down your body before meeting your gaze, forcefully he moves closer to you, you lean back until he's directly in your face and your back is up against the surface of his workbench.

You feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers, "The next words out of your mouth better be 'I love you Solomon!' or I'm not hearing them."

Your breath hitches, you suppress a grin, "It's just that-"

"Not hearing it."

"Emrys is just so cool-"

Solomon flicks you on the head for that one. He moves away from your ear so he can look at your face. Grey eyes instinctual and crazed.

"My darling apprentice....you don't want to know where this is headed." The Witty Sorcerer grits out, emphasising the word 'my' like it's an ancient incantation.

You stiffen, you've really done it now. There was no way you could keep teasing your favourite Michelin Star Murderer and come out unscathed.

A dark purple surrounds the sorcerer, are those flames?!

You pout, looking into the crazed feral eyes man who's about to lose control. You'd have to stop being a gremlin and take responsibility.

"Sol...I love you." You say, and you mean it.

And like clockwork, rhe dark purple flamey aura disappears, Solomon's grip loosens on you, he moves a little farther back, allowing you to get up off the surface of the workbench. His usual Rat Bastard smile returns, and the crazy feral look in his eyes diminish, never fully going away.

You raise an eyebrow teasingly, "So that's a no on meeting Merlin?"

Solomon sighs exasperatedly, love ever-present in his expression, "Forget Thirteen, you'll be the death of me."

You laugh, "Back to your Alchemy lesson now?"

Solomon chuckles. "Back to my Alchemy lesson." He nods, taking his hands off of you and walking over to his cauldron.

You follow him like a lost puppy, unaware of the extent of the danger just a few moments ago. Not danger you were in, of course, like Solomon could ever hurt you. But the rest of the realms?....well that's a different story....

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Never wake a sleeping dragon....

Never underestimate the obsession love that Solomon the Wise has for his Darling Apprentice.

[diejager]

Ok but like what about Wendigo reader? Maybe the team knows she's not exactly human but maybe in her file it just marked n/a and leaves it at that so they just assume that their sweet little medic is just a helpful spirit of some kind. Humans tend to give her a very wide birth since they seem to notice her as something they should leave the fuck alone, the boys just assume it's because of them always being near her and leave it at that. Till they're all on a mission and it all goes to shit, they're pinned down and then one of them ends up taking a bullet and reader just straight up fuckin losses it and next thing they know their is a 10 ft tall fuckin deer monster shredding bitches like their made of PAPER MACHE and EATING THEM, once the dust settles it moves towards them and slowly it shifts into their sweet medic but she is covered in blood and she just casually starts treating their wounds and the team is just like "Well mark me down as scared and horny" (if this makes no sense feel free to ignore)

Stag

Pairing: Monster 141 + Horangi & König x Wendigo!reader

Cw: cannibalism, human eating, greed, blood, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k (A/N): I felt a bit burnt out so I’m sorry if it’s bad, I reread it just in case, but it still feels bad.

They say that human greed is the source of evil, the all-consuming hunger for more —more than they need. Hunger drives humans to do the unspeakable, to break the line humanity had drawn and commit the taboo. Despite it being carved so deeply into the human psyche, passed down from generation to generation and the propaganda of humanism and equality, it doesn’t take much to make someone tip over, cross the edge nobody dared to and perform the unspeakable. Possession causes needs and needs cause greed.

That’s why people called to him for help, to carry out a clandestine mission to do their dirty work, his duty was to stop whatever men in power started, whatever men in power lost control —he was the one sent when they were scared. Fear was as coercive as power was. That was the reason Task Force 141 was first founded, to stop dangerous men like Hassan (Gaz remembered hearing from Soap that Ghost shot Hassan through the head, straight through him before he slumped down.) and Makarov, a man they were still searching for while signing a liaison contract with KorTac. Price, with Laswell’s help, managed to put the best of the best together: a wraith, a werewolf, a dragon, a harpy, a nagual and a cadejos vessel, all decorated with various medals for their work, and then there was you.

You were a mystery, even to Price who usually had clearance for anyone who joined them. Gaz knew, from a single glance, that you were far from human, you were a monster like Ghost was, turned after an occasion, or a hybrid like him. Surprisingly, Ghost seemed to welcome you warmly, albeit standoffish, having worked with you in the past, seeing that you both preferred working alone. Gaz wanted to show you the same heartwarming welcome as Ghost had, but there was something about you, an uneasiness he felt when he was around you. The others felt it as well, the innate need to keep their distance from you and the instinctual fear that had the hairs on their arms raised. Gaz could feel your eyes whenever you stared at him, like the eyes of a predator stalking its prey —it made him feel perturbed.   

You seemed so human, yet so inhuman-like, your dull, thousand-yard stare, your inability to feel temperature (either cold or warm, you always wore the same clothes), your odd habits and your unusual calmness in every situation. Gaz had caught you staring at a private for much longer than what people considered normal, eyes glazed over and dilated as if you were seeing something else, daydreaming while being aware of your surroundings. Those were your moments, you were usually bubbly, always smiling at him whenever his eyes met yours or treating him with gentleness and always eager to help him. You had a softness to your being despite the eerie feel to you and your unique tendencies, you didn’t discriminate, nor did you show an ounce of hate towards hybrids and humans, treating everyone fairly. 

Although you tried to fit in as best as you could, there were things that Gaz and the others just couldn’t shake off without questioning things. There was the lingering scent of blood on you, a metallic tang that stuck on his tongue after you walked by. König and Soap had confessed that they had a feeling that blood was a part of your scent, unwashable and impossible to hide, it clung to you like a second skin. They chalked it up to you being the Task Force’s medic, having brought people back from the brink of death and stitching men back together, you were practically bathed in the smell of blood and death every day. 

Another thought was that they never saw you in the Mess hall for food, perhaps a cup of tea or a hot mug of coffee to boost you through a long shift in the infirmary as the base’s main medic if you weren’t deployed with them. Gaz never saw you eat, not once had he seen you hold a plate or bowl with substance for yourself. You would bring either of them a plate, caring for them whenever they were under your watch, giving them soup or anything that they could easily digest. 

Gaz, Soap, Rudy and Horangi would chatter about you, throwing speculations on your breed, to see what hybrid or monster fit all your characteristics. You couldn’t be a wraith, your hands weren’t painted with death, a dark miasma that clung to you. You weren’t a werewolf, Soap would know, wolves were able to smell and recognize each other, it was an instinctual aspect of him. You weren’t any shifting hybrid either, there would be signs, little cues if you were one, and your classification wouldn’t be classified, painted over with a red line. 

All they could was wonder and amble around with curiosity dripping from their tongues. Gaz was sure that he’d find out soon enough, whether it was an accident or your choice.

This wasn’t what Gaz meant by eventually, he didn’t mean being set up by Konni, a trap planted for them in the small Belgium town. It was the best set to box them in, a broken and ransacked ghost town that people fled from, walls greyed and cracked, the paint peeling off street lights and rusted metal poles, lost, forgotten and open. There didn’t have any cover, even if they ran and hid behind the crumbling walls, Konni had them surrounded on every end, concealed behind concrete walls and using the shadows to hide from sight. 

It was chaotic, Konni had pushed them into an open area of the town, the centrepiece of it with a dilapidated, Greek fountain, chipped on the sides and green with mould, Gaz would’ve admired the architecture and the beauty it must’ve been in the past when it was still being cared for. They were backed up in a corner, Gaz couldn’t even stretch his wings out with how tightly they were packed together, the uncomfortable pull of his trapezius and the strain in his limbs kept him grounded. The tension was thick, palpable, Gaz could taste it in the air as much as anyone could, their shoulders tense, fingers tapping the trigger of their rifles. All they could do was wait for Konni to act first, to see where they would appear from and work their way out of this open area from there. 

He had his back towards you, he couldn’t see you but he could feel you shake. It might’ve been from the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the nerve of being lied to, of falling into a trap when Ghost had voiced his suspicions about the lack of clearer intel. They were paying for their amateurism. He felt you shudder, breath stuttering, near panting with exhaustion. Gaz wanted to turn to you, words soothing your nerves and twitchy appearance, he acted letting drown in your mind, whatever it was, he hated it. His finger twitched on the trigger, jolting at the sudden crack of bones, an ugly and painful sound that made him wince. It shocked everyone, even the ever so silent and stoic Ghost who had a hard time hearing these cracks coming from you.

Damn this mission; damn the trap; damn this situation, Gaz needed to look at you, to see why your bones were breaking and limbs rattling. Instinctively, his wings shifted to cover you, the ends widening to cover your sides to protect you from whatever pained you, yet you didn’t let out a single squeak, no moan of pain or the grunt of suffering, you were silent. A part of his mind nagged at him to move, he could fly and try to outrun Konni mercenaries to find a way out, but then he’d leave your back open. He cursed lowly, teeth sinking into his lower lip in frustration, he was-

A loud screech thundered through the air, and screams and squelches followed it. You were missing. 

You were shaking just a second ago, body wracked with some unknown ailment and the next, you were missing, your sack, attire, rifle and helmet were scattered on the ground, with a bony creature tearing through Konni ranks. The hair on his neck rose, an uneasy feeling overtaking him as he watched the creature rip men in half, tines stabbing through their torso like a buck fighting another, head lowered and antlers pointed forward. He watched the tall and thin monster move around, its face was one of a deer’s skull, eaten clean of skin and flesh, any muscle or fibre gone with whatever transformation it took. A crown of antler adorned its head, tall and imposing, as pale as its skull, a coat of black fur was wrapped around the neck, draping down the back like a ridge of fur. 

“Fuck,” Gaz hissed, his body moving along the chaos the being created and your disappearance, he aimed his rifle and shot at the Russians who ran out of their hiding, fearful of the monster’s sudden arrival behind their ranks. “Captain! Is that-?”

“Don’t know anymore!” Price seemed to be as lost as Gaz was, reining in his confusion to focus on taking Konni out. “Keep your head in the game, Gaz; ask questions later.”

Gaz knew Price was right, the town was brimming with Russian ultranationalists, hiding and waiting for their time to jump at them. The situation was still chaotic, but it was better than being without cover. Gaz followed Horangi behind a wall, watching his back while they worked through the humans.

Somehow, Konni either retreated or were all dead, swallowed down by the beast that stood before them. Now that Gaz was standing so close to it - to you, after a few minutes of talking back and forth, they concluded that this was you from the pants that hung from your slim hips - he could see that the deer skull was just a mask covering your face, black and unidentifiable with those bright, gleaming eyes that stared down at him. Despite your curved back, bent to look at them, you towered over everyone, even König seemed small beside you, limbs almost as long as you, fingers tipped with blood that you were still licking off, a long tongue wrapped around your digit to clean yourself from blood, muscle and guts. 

You were casually cleaning yourself up like a cat washing, even in the aircraft, you were gorging on the body of a man you picked up, jaw opening to show them the dozen of teeth before you clamped down on the forearm, tearing into the muscle with famished intent. None of them could take their eyes off you, their sweet, smiley medic who sometimes had their moments, devouring a man without batting an eye, obliviously uncaring of their staring. Gaz wasn’t sure if he knew how he felt, a warmth building up in his chest, a heat that seared into the fibres of his beings like an infectious thing. All they did was watch you eat, no one speaking until you finished your meal.

“Mind tell us what happened, Hunter?” 

You perked up, blinking at Price owlishly, tongue lolling out to lick up the stray drop of blood that stuck on your skull’s teeth. Your chest rumbled, a soft growl rolling off your body while you tilted your head, you acted so much like a feline, grooming, reacting and moving like a curious cat, dangerous, yet so appealing. 

“Wendigo,” you rasped, voice breathy and weak, you spoke in broken English, unable to speak fluently after turning, “Curse, eat human.”

Your little mannerism, the small tilt of your head and your fumbling hands, seemingly embarrassed or ashamed after your show of ruthless hunger and savagery was… eye-opening. Something stewed inside him, your being creating a ripple in his heart, pulling at the hunger in the depth of his gut. He was torn by the fear of having you as the potential enemy and the arousal of seeing you break men in half, painting the ground in crimson and guts, and satiating your hunger - craving - with human and monster flesh. 

Gaz was fucked, both in the head and the situation. 

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