#I say as I’m not a parent but from what I’ve heard!

[fawnhart]

sugar and rafes first time meeting ! ㅤ⭑๋ ࣭

You remember the moment your whole life started to crumble. It was a Tuesday, you think. Maybe a Wednesday? Doesn’t really matter. The days just blur together when you’re stuck in a house where you’re not allowed to live

You were listening to Jeff Buckley. You had it on repeat for weeks now, hiding it under a loose plank in the floorboards of your room. Your parents would never allow it. Not in a million years. Especially your mom. She’d explode if she ever found out. Everything was so god damn evil to her

But that day you thought you had time. She was supposed to be gone for at least another hour. It was Wednesday. Church group meetings. It was always a Wednesday.

You slipped the CD into your player old and busted up, the kind with the cassette tape thing but with a CD attachment, so it wasn’t completely outdated. You sat on your bed, staring out at the little slice of sky visible through your window, not really thinking about anything in particular just thinking. Then you heard the door downstairs.

“What the hell is that noise?”

You froze. Your heart dropped into your stomach. You thought your mom wouldn’t be home yet. You’d been so sure. You asked Mrs. Maggie to 1000% sure. But she was early. You scrambled to hit stop, but the music kept playing. Her voice, firm and pissed, was coming closer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Your pulse raced. You shoved the player under your pillow just as she stormed into the room, her eyes narrowing. She was already clutching that look the one that meant something bad was about to happen.

“What did I tell you about this?” Her voice was tight and screechy.

“I wasn’t doing nothin’” you said, your voice shaky. You didn’t even believe yourself. You knew exactly why she was upset. But you had to try. You had to try to be normal for once, even if it was just for a few minutes in your own room.

“Nothing?” Her lip curled, disgust in every word. “Baby, you think you can just fill ya’ head with that filth and call it ‘nothin’?’”

You bit your lip, holding back tears. She stepped forward, pointing at the CD player under your pillow.

“This is demonic! I knew it. You’ve been listening to the devil behind my back. It’s not enough that you’re dressing like... like one of those whores at school. But now you want to be dirty on the inside, too?”

Your throat felt tight, like you couldn’t breathe. Your mind was racing. What were you supposed to say?

“You’re going to ruin everything I’ve worked for. Everything your father and I have taught you,” she hissed, her eyes wild with something you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t love, not even close.

“it’s just music,” you whispered, too quietly, but she heard you.

She grabbed the player from your bed and yanked the CD out.

“It’s. not. just. music,” she said, her voice cracking. “It’s a gateway. It’s corruption to the brain.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her that all you wanted was to be normal, to have what everyone else had. a life outside of this house, outside of her rules. But the words never came.

She was moving now, pulling open drawers, emptying them onto the floor.

“all that filth you’ve been hiding from me and I’ve been lenient on is done for. I’m taking it all.”

She tossed your music cds, your makeup, your books. Everything you’d spent months gathering, everything you’d used to try to feel like you were an ordinary girl, was being thrown away.

And then, the worst part.

“Your father won’t stand for this. We’ll have you cleansed”

You faltered. Cleansed? It was such a cold, clinical word. But you knew what it meant. The prayers. The rituals. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t live through that.

Your eyes were filling with tears, your chest tightening.

“I’m sorry!, I didn’t mean to. I won’t listen to that again, okay? I swear,” you pleaded, though you knew it didn’t matter.

But it was too late, she was already at the door

“You know honey, my church group has been just how ungodly you’ve been acting, but I didn’t believe them….. I hate that you proved them right”

locking it behind her with that final click that meant you were trapped.

You pressed your back against the door, the tears finally spilling over. You couldn’t think straight. Your whole body was shaking, your mind was screaming. I need to get out of here.

You knew what you had to do.

You waited for what felt like hours, listening to the muffled sounds of your mom in the kitchen. The smell of dinner wafted under the door, and all you could think about was how your entire life had been planned for you. You were supposed to be a good girl. A good Christian girl. But you weren’t. And you were never going to be.

Finally, when you thought your heart couldn’t take any more, you got up. You grabbed the little bag you’d hidden in the closet. Nothing but a few clothes, and the money you’d saved up from waitressing at ‘sticky’s’. Quietly, carefully, you pulled out the plank in the floor, grabbed the rest of your hidden things, and shoved them into your bag. You didn’t think twice.

You climbed out the window, holding your breath, praying that she wouldn’t hear you.

Once you were outside, you took off running.

You didn’t know where you were going, but it didn’t matter. You had to get out.

You ran for what felt like forever. The night was cold, but you didn’t care. It was better than being to the place you once called home.

You didn’t notice him at first.

You glanced around realizing you were for sure not on the cut anymore, the big tall houses made it clear to you were on figure eight now.

then you saw him

Rafe Cameron.

You’d seen him around, of course. He was one of the rich kids, always walking around with that stupid confident smile, like he owned the whole island. You’d never paid him any attention. You had enough of your own problems to deal with. But when you saw him standing at the end of the street, leaning against his car smoking god knows what, you froze.

You’ve heard the stories about Rafe Cameron. He’s the kind of guy everyone talks about but no one truly understands.

He’s always been a mystery, and he still is. But there’s something about him, something that draws you in, even though you know you probably shouldn’t get too close.

You never really expected to see him again, not after the way he disappeared seven years ago.

Rafe left figure eight right after that night, the night he ended up in jail. No one knows exactly what happened, but everyone has their theories.

Some say it was a huge mistake, some say it was just a matter of time, others say ward himself drove his only son out of town. But whatever it was, it was enough to make him walk away from everything. His family, his life there, his whole world.

He packed up and drove five hours away, living on his own, far from the memories and the mess the pouges he hated had caused.

In the time since, he’s built himself up. People talk about how he’s thriving now, working as a firefighter or something like that. Hard work, steady pay, and no one really bothers him anymore.

It’s like he’s trying to rebuild his life, piece by piece. But even though he’s been gone for so long, when he talks about his baby sister wheezie, there’s this soft, almost protective vibe about him

Now, he’s back in town, just for her birthday. It’s strange seeing him like this, but there’s something different about him. He’s older, quieter, and maybe even a little lost in his own way.

He was looking straight at you, his brow furrowed, like he knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice muffled by his blunt but clear in the quiet night air.

You stopped in your tracks.

“Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step toward you.

You didn’t know what to say. Of course you weren’t alright!. You were running away from your own life, from your own mother. But you didn’t know how to tell him that.

“I... I’m fine,” you said, but even to your own ears, it sounded like a lie.

He took another step forward, still studying you with those eyes that seemed too kind for someone like him.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice softer now. “You look rough.”

Your breath hitched. ‘Gee thanks’ Yeah, you looked rough. You had been rough for years. But hearing it from someone else...it hit different.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know him. But you also didn’t know anyone who would help you, not like this. So you warily followed him

You stared at him, confused, trying to figure out if he was serious or playing some sick joke on you.

Then it hit you. He was talking to you like you weren’t just the religious girl with the crazy parents. He wasn’t weirded. He wasn’t judging you.

The last time someone came up to you, the whole town heard about it. Your parents tried getting them expelled from school for harassing you.

That was the last time anyone ever talked to you

“I know you know Wheezie,” he said, a little chuckle in his voice as he opened the door. “you can’t be all bad, right?”

Wheezie? then it clicked, the girl with glasses who could down 6 cherry milkshakes in a row, nice.

“Come on,” he said, the smile slipping from his face for a second, a real one this time. “Let me help you.”

You didn’t know if you were ready for help, but you were so damn tired. Tired of pretending everything was okay. Tired of running. Tired of fighting your own heart every damn day.

You took a deep breath and took up his offer.

He didn’t even look like the guy everyone made him out to be. Sure, he still had that wild, unpredictable look to him, but he wasn’t hostile. He just… asked if you needed help. Simple as that.

You didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t know where else to go.

He didn’t press you with questions. He just turned on the engine, his eyes flicking over you like he was checking to see if you were really serious about getting in.

"You're Wheezie's friend, right?" he asked as you climbed in.

You nodded, glancing at him, trying to gauge whether or not you were making a huge mistake. "Yeah... kind of, she’s always at the diner" you added, almost too quietly. You didn't want to give him the wrong impression, what 18 year old is freinds with a 13 year old?

He smiled just a little, but it was different from the smirks you’d seen on his face at school or around town. “That sounds like her” It wasn’t mean. It was soft

You can’t help but wonder what really happened in those seven years, what it was that changed him, but for now, you’re stuck here in the passenger seat of his truck, staring at his side profile as he drives.

Something about being around him feels oddly comforting, even though you know there’s so much you’ll never understand.

The ride was awkward, the kind of silence that felt thick enough to choke on. Rafe had the radio low, some song you didn’t recognize playing in the background.

You focused on the streetlights flashing by, the pavement blurring, but all you could think about was the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. You didn't belong in this car, in this moment. You should have been running in the other direction, but... for some reason, you weren’t scared. Not yet.

You had no idea where the hell you were going. That’s when he asked.

“So, do you have anywhere to go?”

You looked at your lap, clutching the bag tighter. You couldn’t tell him the truth, not completely. Not yet. "yeah" you said, your voice barely above a raspy whisper.

He didn’t say anything at first. But then you heard him exhale, like he was thinking it over. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been through but….but you’re safe now,” he said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle, like he’d somehow sensed how scared you really were. “Ok?”

“Ok” You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears. He wasn’t wrong. You were scared, terrified even, but for the first time in forever, someone wasn’t judging you for it.

No one in your family ever told you you were safe, ever told you that everything would be okay. You sniffled, the tears threatening to spill over.

You didn't want to break down in front of him.

The car slowed to a stop, and you realized you were at a diner, the neon lights buzzing softly. Rafe looked over at you, almost like he was waiting for you to protest or make some excuse. You didn’t. You just followed him out of the car, not saying a word.

Inside, the place smelled like burgers, fries, and cigarettes. The warmth was a stark contrast to the cold night outside, and it made you feel a little safer, like you were stepping into something straight out of a movie. Rafe led you to a booth and slid into the seat across from you. For a second, you both just stared at the menu, neither of you speaking. You didn’t know if you were supposed to order, or if he would. But then he broke the silence.

"What do you want?" He didn’t sound like he was expecting an answer right away. Like he was just making sure you were okay.

You looked at the menu, but your mind was elsewhere. You didn’t care what you ate. You just... didn’t want him to feel like he had to do this.

Like he had to take care of you.

“Just fries and a water,” you said, you didn't even know why you said it. It wasn’t like you had much of an appetite.

He raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment on it. He called the waitress over and ordered for both of you. A burger, fries, and a milkshake. When she left, he turned to you, his gaze softer than you thought he’d ever let it be.

"How are you holding up?" His voice was quieter now, the edge gone. He wasn’t the Rafe Cameron you’d heard about, the one everyone warned you to stay away from. He seemed... almost normal, it was freaking you out.

You shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I don't know," you muttered. "Just tired, I guess."

He nodded, leaning back in his seat, but you caught him glancing at you every few seconds like he was still trying to figure you out.

“What are you running from” he said bluntly, his stare showing no signs playfulness, just a full serious look

you looked away, your tears sticking with your mascara and glitter eyeshadow “Home”

“Been there” he nodded taking in your appearance in, how could such a pretty girl like you be so alone and lost?

The food came quickly, and Rafe pushed the plate with the burger and fries toward you. "Eat," he said simply. “I’m not going to let you go hungry.”

You picked at the fries, not feeling hungry but not wanting to make him feel like you didn’t appreciate it. The milkshake was so cold and thick, and when you took a sip, you felt a small sense of comfort settle in. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As you ate, Rafe kept glancing at you, almost like he was waiting for you to crack. When you sniffled again, wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve, he frowned. "I already told you, you don’t have to be scared," he said, his voice dropping a little. “You’re safe here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

It was a strange thing for him to say, considering who he was. But in that moment, you believed him. You really did.

When you finished the milkshake and most of the burger, you felt a little more alive again, but the weight of everything of your family, of the lies, of everything that had pushed you to this point, was still there.

And you still had nowhere to go.

you just had a sparkly sack and a dream.

Rafe didn’t say much after that, just leaned back in his seat, and let you gather your thoughts. But when the waitress came by to take your plates, you stood up, and swung the creaky glass door open feeling that familiar unease creep back in.

"I’ll just go to the docks, the ferry leaves at 6am," you said, Turing around to see rafe as he followed right behind. You were going to take the ferry to the mainland, with the little money you had left. You weren’t sure where you were going from there, but it was something.

Rafe’s expression turned serious, almost annoyed. “No,” he said flatly.

“what?”

“I’m not letting you go to the docks. It’s dangerous, and I doubt you even have enough money to get anywh-.”

“You can’t fix everything!” you snapped, feeling all the frustration you’d been holding back suddenly spill out. "You can’t. fix. everything"

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Maybe I can’t fix everything,” he said, his voice firm. “But I can try to make sure you’re okay. I can’t just let you go off like that.”

You glared at him. “You don’t even know me. Why do you care?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you like he was weighing something in his mind. Then he exhaled, running a hand through his buzzed head. “I know enough.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say. Your whole world was falling apart, and yet, here was this guy, this person you should’ve never trusted, according to everyone you knew

but then again why does it matter what everyone says? if you’re going by that logic then you would be at the bottom of the barrel.

“You want to runaway right?” he said, voice steady. “I have a place, it’s 5 hours away, that far enough for you?”

“Do you even know how old I am!? Hello, I could turn you in right now for being a weirdo” you asked with sass, anything to get him off of your case

“ ‘sticky’s’ won’t hire under 18.” He said nonchalantly rolling his eyes, “unless you lied or where getting paid under the table? Then I could turn you and your employer in”

You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion in his voice, but something in you cracked. “i didn’t lie, I’m 18” you said your voice trembling slightly. “I’ll go with you. But no funny business, I will jump out of the freaking car” you said crossing your arms

“Whatever you say, sugar”

Was this a good idea? Probably not. You’re parents would ironically raise hell over this town once they found out their precious daughter had run off with Rafe fucking Cameron

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐��𝟐𝟓

[nerokoma]

press start! — from stardew (18/22)

768 wc

Peering your head through the doorway, your eyes scanned the brightly-lit gym. It was practically empty, a couple players still lingering for all the extra practice they could squeeze out. But of who was left, the one person you were actually looking for didn’t seem to be among them.

Letting out a sigh, you took one last glance into the gym, as though the person you were looking for would miraculously appear. He didn’t, but you caught sight of Lev and Inuoka as they animatedly engaged in conversation with Hinata about something that you couldn’t hear. Chuckling, you stood up straight and reached out to open the net on the door. 

“Y/N?” 

A voice behind you made you jump, and you immediately whipped your head over your shoulder. Standing a few steps away from you was none other than Tsukishima, an unreadable expression on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Oh! Hi Tsukishima!” You stood up straight, sending an awkward smile in the boy’s direction as you turned to face him. “How are you? How were your games?”

Tsukishima blinked, giving you a blank look before responding. 

“They were good.” 

You nodded, pressing your lips together. 

“Did you guys win many matches?” 

He paused for a moment, the tension growing with every second that passed, though after a while, Tsukishima simply gave a curt nod. A frown made its way onto your face as you stared at him, trying to pick apart the subtle features of his expression to try and understand what he was thinking. 

“I’m going to get dinner,” he said, moving to step past you. You stepped to the side, partially blocking his path and causing the boy to halt, his eyes widening slightly. You made eye contact with him, your own eyes widening as you stared at each other with blank expressions.

“I was just about to go to the cafeteria for dinner,” you said, giving him a smile. “Did you wanna walk together?” 

A frown made its way onto Tsukishima’s face as he furrowed his eyebrows. He blinked at you.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would be very happy about that,” he said. 

Now, it was your time to frown. Confusion filled your expression as you tilted your head at him. 

“What?” you asked, completely lost. 

“Kenma. Isn’t he your boyfriend?” 

Tsukishima watched as you seemed to process the words that had just left his mouth. First shock crossed your expression, soon replaced by confusion, and the silence would have become even more awkward–

–if you hadn’t burst out in laughter. 

Now, it was Tsukishima’s turn to be confused, dumbfounded as he watched you hunch over in laughter for a solid minute. After composing yourself, you reached up and wiped your eye with your sleeve. You glanced over at him, though this only caused you to burst into laughter once more. 

Another minute later, you took in a deep breath and let out a sigh, finally calming down. Still, giggling, you looked over at him.

“Kenma’s my brother.” 

Tsukishima’s jaw dropped as pure confusion flooded his face, unsure if he’d heard you correctly.

“He’s your brother?” he asked, disbelief evident in his voice, to which you nodded with a grin. “But you guys don’t look anything alike.” 

“I’m adopted,” you explained, letting out a long exhale. “Kenma and I aren’t biologically related, but I’ve never known life without him.” You let out a light-hearted scoff, shaking your head. “He says he remembers life before me, but he wasn’t even one when our parents adopted me, so he’s just bullshitting.” 

Tsukishima stared at you with more emotion than you’d ever seen before. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he processed everything you’d said. 

“So…you don’t have a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. Unless you count Sam from Stardew.” 

“Stardew?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Stardew Valley,” you clarified, giggling.

Tsukishima nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath. He held it for a couple seconds, eventually releasing it in a short breath.

“So…you said you were going to the cafeteria?” 

Your eyes lit up as you nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah! I’m gonna go get dinner.” 

The boy gave a quick nod before wordlessly stepping past you. He began walking, leaving you standing there in slight disappointment. After a couple steps, however, he looked over his shoulder back at you. 

“Well? Aren’t you coming?” 

Your eyes lit up, nodding as you jogged to catch up with the boy. Once close enough, he began walking again, his strides noticeably adjusted to match yours.

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

I may be a real bad boy...but baby I'm a real good man -Part 2 Oneshot

One of my lovely little darlings asked for a part 2 of this one. Hope y'all like it! Word count: 4834 Warnings: talk of past abuse, scarring

Part 1

“What’s that?” Bucky asked as he walked into Y/N’s room.

“Another letter from my parents,” she sighed, handing it over to him when he sat next to her on her bed.  

He read through it quickly, then scowled.  “Jesus, what is their problem?”

“I’ve been seen with the Avengers, Buck, which must mean I’m rich now, and that obviously means I owe them something since they are the reason I’m alive,” she scoffed, rubbing her eyes harshly with her fingers.  

He crumpled the letter up and stuffed it in his pocket before leaning forward and hugging her tight.  “You don’t owe them shit, babycakes, you know that right?” he said reassuringly.

Y/N smiled as she hugged him back.  “I know,” she said quietly.  “I just wish they would do what they’ve done for twenty years and just leave me alone.”

Bucky sighed heavily, then pulled back to look at her.  “Ignore them.  There’s nothing they can do to hurt you now.”  She nodded and leaned in to kiss him.  He playfully bit her lower lip and she whined at him, making him laugh.  “Come on, let’s go down to the pool with everybody else,” he said.  “The party has already started.”

Y/N’s anxiety spiked at that, but she kept a neutral face.  “Okay, um, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right down,” she said nonchalantly.

Bucky’s eyes slightly narrowed at her, waiting a beat to see if he could read what was wrong, before he smiled wider and nodded.  “Alright, don’t take too long!” he said, kissing her once more before getting up and leaving her room.

Y/N waited for his footsteps to go further down the hallway before she let out a shaky breath.  She hadn’t worn a tank top or anything revealing enough to show her back in years, and even during sex with Bucky she was always on her back, making it so he wouldn’t be able to see or feel it if he tried to wrap his arms under her.  How was she going to hide it from the entire team?

***

Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Yelena were in the pool, splashing each other until Steve and Bucky raced each other across the pool to see who was faster.  With the super soldier serum in their blood it was definitely impressive to watch.  Y/N was sitting on one of the beach chairs with Wanda next to her while Tony and Bruce were grilling burgers further away.

“Aren’t you hot?” Wanda asked her after a moment.  “It’s 92 degrees and you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N waved her off.  “It’s a white t-shirt, and it’s not that hot.”

“Says the girl who is literally sweating through her hair,” Wanda said, reaching over and swiping off a bead of sweat from Y/N’s temple.  “Come on, just take it off, you’ll feel better.”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Y/N said, taking a long sip of her water.

“Babycakes, come on in!” Bucky called to her from the pool.  

“I’m good, thank you!” she replied, trying to keep the air of nonchalance in her voice even as her frustration grew.  

Why won’t she come in?

What’s going on?

Does she not feel good about herself?

Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her sunglasses hiding the tightness around her eyes.  She was panicking, which made it so her mental blocks weren’t as strong as usual and she would hear people’s thoughts again.  She heard Bucky pull himself out of the pool, water dripping heavily from him as he walked over to her chair and sat on it by her legs.  “What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked quietly as he leaned over her.  “Why won’t you come in?”

“I don’t feel like it,” she said quickly.  “Just wanna get some sun.”

He frowned at her, then looked at Wanda.  “Don’t ask me,” Wanda said, throwing her hands up.

Bucky leaned in closer to her ear so no one else could hear.  “What’s going on?” he whispered.

“I don’t wanna take my shirt off, Buck,” Y/N said, silently begging him to understand.

“Why not?  You look amazing,” he asked, looking shocked at her confession.  

“Please just trust me,” she whispered, finally opening her eyes and looking at him.  “Please?”

He looked surprised, his frown deepening, but he nodded.  “Okay,” he said simply before giving her a quick kiss and getting up from the chair.  She took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm herself as she turned on her electric fan and fanned her face.  

A little while later as she was standing by the other end of the pool after eating a burger, she was sipping on a cocktail when Sam came up out of nowhere and lifted her off her feet, heading toward the pool.

“Sam!  Stop!” she yelled, trying not to let her sonic scream overtake her voice.  “Don’t!”

“Oh come on, Y/N, have some fun!” he said, laughing as she kicked and squirmed in his hold.  The others started laughing at his antics, but Y/N was freaking out.  No, please, not this, not now…

He suddenly maneuvered her into a position at the edge of the pool so that he grabbed her shirt and lifted it over herself before dropping her into the water.  Y/N squealed, trying to twist her body as she hit the water.  When she resurfaced she spat out the water that rushed into her mouth and nose before glaring at Sam.  “Fuck you Sam!” she screamed, part of her ability slipping out and making the water ripple toward him.  It splashed his feet and legs, making him laugh harder as she tried backstroke swimming to the opposite side of the pool away from him.

“Hey, glad you made it,” Bucky said, swimming toward her with a smile.  

“I’m not staying,” Y/N said, keeping her back beneath the water as best as she could, facing him so he couldn’t see.

“What?  Y/N–” he started.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice carried over from her chair.  “What’s on your back?”

Y/N stiffened, shutting her eyes tight.  “Nothing,” she said loudly as she continued trying to get away.

Bucky frowned.  “What?  What’s on your back?” he asked, trying to swim around her.  

“No, Bucky, no,” she said, holding her hands out to him.  Her constant protests were getting the attention of everybody by the pool, all of them watching on with frowns on their faces as well.  “Just let me leave.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me now, babycakes,” he said, his eyes conveying his worry.  He got close to her and reached for her shoulders.  “Just let me see–”

“NO!” she yelped as she turned her sharply.  The second he saw it he froze, his fingers tightening on her shoulders.  She held her breath, hanging her face into her hands in shame.

“What is it—oh my god,” Wanda said when she walked around the edge of the pool to see.  “Y/N…what…how did you get that?”

She could hear the rest of them all coming over to look, each of them reacting with some type of gasp or sound of surprise.  “Y/N,” Bucky whispered.  “What is this?”

“Scars,” she whispered, pulling away from his touch.  “Please let me go.”

His hands fell away, and she swam to the side of the pool with the stairs and climbed out.  She ran into the building without looking back, her tears pouring down her face as she raced to her room barefoot in a swim top and short shorts.  She didn’t want it to happen like this.  Of course she wouldn’t be able to hide it forever, especially from Bucky, but she couldn’t stand the fact that this was how everybody found out.  When she reached her room she locked the door and instructed Friday to keep it locked before going to her bathroom and turning on the shower.  She turned the water cold to try and cool down her feverish skin, the scars feeling like they were burning along her back.  She washed off the sunscreen smell and let the water relax her as she cried heavily.  Another lovely reminder of her parents’ anger and transgressions, permanently etched into her skin.

***

“It’s been four days and she won’t come out,” Bucky explained to her uncle Teddy as they walked down the hallway to her room.  “She won’t talk to anyone, not even me.”

Teddy sighed heavily when they reached her door then turned to Bucky.  “Thank you for calling me,” he said quickly.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bucky nodded, looking at her door sadly before walking back down the hallway.  Teddy turned to the door and knocked.  “Y/N?  It’s Ted–”

The door ripped open and Y/N gaped at him.  “Teddy?” she cried, then threw herself into his arms.  “Teddy, what are you doing here?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.

“Your boyfriend called me,” he said with a sad chuckle.  “What’s this about you holing yourself away in here?”

Y/N let him go and gave him a pitiful sniffle.  “He saw,” she said quietly.  He frowned but nodded.  “They all saw,” she said, trying to bite back more tears.

“Come on, let’s talk,” Teddy said, pushing her back into her room and closing the door behind him.  “You look a mess, honey.”

“I know,” she sighed, flopping back down on her bed with him sitting next to her.  “I just couldn’t face it.  The looks they all gave me,” she said, her voice starting to raise in pitch as her emotions overwhelmed her again.  

“Well they were going to find out eventually anyway, right?” Teddy reasoned.  “What did you expect to do exactly?  Hide away a huge part of yourself, even from him?”

She shrugged her shoulders.  “It was working for a little while.”

“Sounds like you still have a bit of therapy to get through,” Teddy joked halfheartedly.  “You’re surrounded by the most extraordinary but traumatized people in the world.  They of all people would not judge you for what has happened in your past and the literal and metaphorical scars you hold from that.  Why did you feel the need to hide them?”

Y/N knew he was right.  Everyone on the team had been through some type of shit in their lives, some worse than her, especially Bucky.  Why was she so afraid?  “I guess I just wasn’t ready to face it myself,” she said finally.  “They’re just a constant reminder that I wasn’t…wanted.  That I was wrong.  Bad.  Abnormal.”

“Do you think I’m bad?” Teddy asked.

“What?  No, of course not!” Y/N retorted, looking at him incredulously.

“Am I wrong for having my ability?” he continued.  “Am I abnormal?  Unwanted?”

“No!  How could you say that?” she frowned.

“Because I feel the same about you,” Teddy said, reaching for and holding her hands.  “You aren’t bad, you’re good.  There’s nothing wrong with you for having a mutated gene that gives you abilities, just different.  Does that make us abnormal?  Sure.  But so what?  None of that means that you aren’t appreciated, wanted and loved.”  He pulled her into a hug, which she quickly reciprocated.  “Bucky wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t love and want you, scars and all.”

That made her cry all over again.  She had really sold him and the others short.  They had shown no signs of fear, hesitation or hate towards her the entire time she had been here, so why would a few scars make any difference?  “Thank you,” she said, squeezing him tight.

“Anytime,” Teddy said, his teasing tone coming back in his voice.  “But before you talk to everybody, you need to shower.  You stink.”

“Teddy!”

***

Y/N was sitting on a lone chair facing the rest of the Avengers who were all sitting on the couches and chairs across the common room, watching her intently.  “Um, firstly, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day,” she started, wringing her hands in her lap.  “And secondly, I wanted to explain.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Wanda said quickly.  The others all nodded in agreement.

“I appreciate that, but I think I do,” Y/N said, giving them all a small smile.  She took a deep breath then stood.  “So, uh, this is what I was hiding,” she said, unzipping her jacket and turning around.  She had a sports bra on so she wouldn’t be completely naked, but she shrugged the jacket off for them all to see.  There was a chorus of gasps and sounds of surprise.  Y/N let them look for a long moment before putting her jacket on and zipping it before she turned to sit back down and look at them.  Wanda was crying, Yelena’s frown was the deepest she’d ever seen, and Peter, Sam, Tony, Bruce and Steve were all upset.  But the worst was Bucky’s look of despair, a look that she’d only ever seen when he was coming out of his worst nightmares.

“My parents didn’t know how to handle my abilities when they manifested themselves,” she explained.  “I was seven when I first heard my mom’s thoughts.  I caught her in a lie, and she freaked out when she realized it was because I could hear her.  Then as she was spanking me I screamed, and it shattered the kitchen window.”  She swallowed, trying to not let it all make her cry again.  “I tried not to let the constant voices get to me, but I didn’t know how to tune them out like I do now.  My dad couldn’t handle the fact that I had inherited the mutant gene, that I was a ‘freak like his brother,’” she quoted with a scoff.  “After a pretty bad day he lost it on me, and hit me with his belt until I stopped screaming.”  She sniffed, quickly wiping her eyes before smiling.  “They shipped me off to Uncle Teddy so he could deal with me, and uh…long story short, I’m scarred, physically and mentally, and it sucks but it is what it is.  And I’m sorry I wasn’t trusting enough in all of you to be understanding about it–”

Wanda stood and walked over to her, kneeling down and hugging her tight.  “It wasn’t any of our business until you felt it was, dearest.  I’m sorry we all pushed you, we just didn’t know.  But we should have accepted your refusal from the start.  I’m sorry.”

Y/N hugged her back.  “Thank you.”

They each approached her with hugs and apologies, Sam especially feeling horrible for being the one to force her to show her scars, but Y/N felt lighter than she had in years at the way they all accepted it and didn’t judge or treat her any differently than normal.  Last to approach her was Bucky, who silently took her hand and pulled her out of the common room and towards her room.  Y/N let him lead her, knowing that they would need to have their own conversation about everything.  He closed her door behind her when she walked in then locked the door, and turned to face her.  Tears were brimming in his eyes and she panicked at the sight.

“Bucky,” she said, reaching up and cupping his face.  “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.  “I’m sorry I didn’t see, that I wasn’t someone you felt safe enough with to talk to about it–”

“No, oh my god, no, Buck,” Y/N shook her head fervently.  “I do feel safe with you.  I do trust you.  I just wasn’t ready yet, do you hear me?”  Bucky bit his lower lip to bite back more crying, sniffling as she wiped his tears away.  “I love you,” she confessed.

His eyes widened at that.  They hadn’t said it to each other yet, but Y/N knew what she felt and didn’t want to keep anything else from him.  He released his lip and his lips trembled as he smiled at her.  “I love you, too, babycakes,” he breathed.  He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, then leaned down and kissed her gently.  Y/N let herself melt into the kiss, but after a minute or two Bucky’s hands shifted down her back to the front of her jacket.  His fingers gripped the zipper and he pulled away to look at her.  “May I see?” he asked, a look of sadness and determination in his eyes.

Y/N nodded and took a deep breath.  Bucky getting up close and personal with her scars had worried her before, but now she knew he was just curious and wanting to make it better somehow for her.  He nodded then pulled the zipper down slowly, helping her pull it off and letting it fall to the floor before his fingers traced up her stomach to her sports bra.  She nodded permission, and he helped her take it off, leaving her top naked.  He kissed her again, pushing her back towards her bed until the back of her legs hit the mattress.  His fingers pulled her bottoms down and off, then pushed her to lay down on the bed.  “Turn over for me,” he said.  

She took a deep breath to steady her heartbeat, then turned herself over to lay on her stomach.  There was a beat of silence, then Bucky’s flesh fingers touched the base of her spine where the scars began.  Most of them were small gashes from the belt buckle and prong, but there were two long ones that stretched along her spine from the length of the leather belt hitting her skin just right so that it made the skin split.  His fingers traced along those two, the worst ones that had stretched her skin and pinkened it.  She heard his clothes jostling for a moment and then the bed dipped as he climbed up, kneeling between her legs.  Both of his hands were now on her back, almost massaging along her spine, until he leaned down and he kissed the first small scar near her ass.

Bucky’s kisses traveled over her back, making sure he touched and kissed every scar reverently before moving on to the next one.  It was overwhelming for Y/N, a fresh wave of tears silently falling down her face.  He was being so gentle, so sweet, and she couldn’t help the emotional reaction she was having.  She took another shaky breath as he finally reached the top of her longest scar in between her shoulder blades.  

“My pretty babycakes,” he whispered against her skin.  “I’m so sorry you weren’t loved the way you deserve.  Thank you for trusting me.”  His hands spread her legs further apart, his metal fingers moved in between her legs, his fingers slipping through her slit slowly.  “Thank you for loving me,” he continued.  “Can I make love to you like this, Y/N?”

She turned her head to look back at him.  His eyes were focused on her pussy, then glancing up at her back until he met her gaze.  “You want to see them while we…?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, leaning over so he could kiss her again.  “You accepted me, scars and all.  Let me return the favor.”  Her breath hitched, her chin wobbling as she bit back a sob.  She nodded with a small smile and he smiled back at her.  “Thank you.”

His first two metal fingers dipped inside her, making her moan and her head flop back onto the bed.  She didn’t realize she had gotten so wet just from his kisses across her back, but she had, and as he worked her up she couldn’t stop the tears as she thought about how wonderful this man of hers was.   Bucky pumped his fingers in and out of her slowly, taking his sweet time in pulling any and all sounds he could from her until her legs started shaking.  “That’s it, babycakes.”

She stiffened after a moment, then her body fell off that last precipice and she came, a small gush coating his fingers as she moaned into the blankets, her fingers gripping them tightly.  Bucky’s fingers fucked her through it until she stopped shaking, then he pulled them out and she could hear him lick his fingers clean.  “So good,” he mumbled.  “Get on your knees for me.”  Y/N struggled to shift up on her knees, leaning on her elbows as the side of her face rested against the bed.  “Aw, still sensitive?” he asked teasingly, then she felt the tip of his cock rub through her pussy lips. 

She jiggled her ass at him, and he chuckled, his flesh hand giving her right ass cheek a quick smack.  “Good girl,” he said, then started pushing in.  Y/N moaned into the bed, her legs slightly spreading even more to be able to take him in.  She would never get used to this, just how perfect he felt inside her, but now in this position he felt even deeper somehow, making her eyes roll back.  

“Buckyyyy…” she groaned when he was balls deep.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned with her.  “God, as much as I love the way we’ve always done it, this is…fuck,” he huffed, his hips trembling with how far inside he felt.  “This is different.”  She nodded, her arms moving above her head to grip at the blankets more firmly.  “And seeing your pretty ass raised like this for me,” he said, smacking her ass cheeks again, making her squeak.  “I didn’t know what I was missing.  And these,” his fingers traced up her scars again, his hips starting a steady pace in and out of her, “proving just how strong and good and beautiful my baby is.  I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

Y/N was overcome with emotion, her tears falling harder and her breaths heavy with sobs.  “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, keeping up the pace as he leaned over and across her back, positioning himself so he was basically mounting her.  “Let it all out while I love you.  I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.”

It felt like he was everywhere, his face tucked into the back of her neck, his huffed breaths heating her skin and his deep, low voice in her ear and vibrating from his chest onto her back, his metal arm holding around her waist while his flesh arm kept him up so he couldn’t crush her.  Feeling his front against her scarred back was somehow relieving, healing, like the skin to skin contact stitched together those last few pieces of her heart from when she was a child.  Her orgasm was fast approaching again, her legs shaking under him as he fucked her slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every little thing.  Her mental block slipped and she could hear him…

My strong girl.

My pretty babycakes.

“Atta girl, cum on me,” he said, kissing and licking her shoulder and the top of the longest scar.  “I can feel you.  Let go.  Let it all go, babycakes.”

Y/N’s breathing picked up even faster, her fingers scratching at the bed until the pressure built up impossibly high, then she was cumming again.  She squealed loudly as her pussy constricted around him, another gush spilling from her as she shook beneath him.  Bucky whimpered at how tight she was around his cock, fucking deep into her a few more times until he stiffened and came, his hips trembling harder as he let it all out inside of her.

They sat like that for another minute or two as their combined highs calmed down.  Bucky nuzzled his face into her hair before pulling himself up. He groaned as he slowly pulled himself out of her then turned her over so he could see her.  Y/N felt like jelly as she slumped to her back, her eyes feeling heavy as she looked up at Bucky.  He smirked at the look on her face, leaning down to kiss her deeply.  She lazily kissed him back, and when his lips moved from her mouth and down her neck she moved herself any way he wanted her to as he kissed across her skin.  “Mmh, sweetness,” she moaned lightly.

Bucky kissed back up to her face, kissing her cheek chastely before wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks.  “I hope those are good tears,” he said quietly.  

“Yes,” Y/N quickly nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you Bucky.  That was incredibly…healing,” she said, sniffling before any more emotions could overwhelm her again.

He gave her a wide smile.  “Please talk to me if you’re struggling, Y/N. Please don’t hide things from me.  Nothing you say or do could make me judge or hate you.  I love you too much,” he joked, nipping at her bottom lip.  

She huffed a laugh at him, running her fingers through his hair affectionately.  “I will, I promise,” she agreed.  “I love you, sweetness.”

***

Bucky sat at the small kitchen table in the old house, waiting as the sounds of bustling movement came from the garage.

“Harry, stop being such an idiot!” 

“Fuck off, Julia!”

Their shrill voices carried through the hallway, making Bucky grimace as he pointed the gun in his right hand, keeping it visible on top of the table for them to see as they walked in.

“How do you fuck up grabbing the bread I asked you to get?  It’s the same bread we’ve bought for thirty years!” Julia yelled as she walked through the door, her arms heavy laden with grocery bags.  She didn’t see him at first, plopping the bags on the floor before straightening herself up with a sigh, and as she turned to walk back out of the kitchen she did a double take of him.  Her eyes widened, and just as she opened her mouth to scream Bucky held up the gun, his eyebrows raising in a dare.  She cut herself off, her mouth shutting fast as she froze on the spot.

Harry walked through the door a moment later with a few bags in his hands.  “Jesus, woman, will you just leave me alo–” he froze when he saw Bucky, glancing at Julia before dropping his bags.  “What the fuck?!” he yelled.  “Who are you?”

“Shut up and sit down,” Bucky snarled, cocking the gun toward the last empty seat at the table.  Harry looked defiant but fearful, his jaw ticking as he slowly walked forward and sat down.  Bucky could see Julia inching towards the sink.  “I already grabbed that gun earlier,” he said to her.  “And you could try the knife block, but it won’t end well for either of you.”  Julia froze again, her eyes staying comically wide.  Bucky focused back on Harry.  “I’m not here to kill you,” he said.

Harry’s frown deepened.  “Then what do you want?  We don’t have any money.”

“Right, you’re just trying to get it from your daughter,” Bucky said, revealing his left arm as he let it fall on the table with a heavy thud that made a crack in the tabletop.  Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open and Julia whimpered behind him as they recognized him.  “Let me just make something abundantly clear,” he continued.  “You will not contact her again.  No calls, no emails, no more pathetic letters,” he said, unfurling his closed metal fist and letting the crumpled letter he’d taken fall on the table.  “She owes you nothing.  Don’t you ever bother her or interrupt her happiness again.  Do as you have done for the past 20 years, and leave her alone.”

“You have no right–” Harry started.

*BANG*

Julia screamed, cowering in the corner of the kitchen while Harry sat shaking, breathing heavily as blood trickled down from where the top of his left ear had been grazed.  Bucky glared at him, pointing the gun more toward his face.  “Do I need to repeat myself?” he asked dangerously.  Harry shook his head fast.  “Answer me,” Bucky grumbled.  

“N-n-no,” Harry stammered.

“No, what?” Bucky asked, tilting his head at him.

“No s-sir,” Harry said, his chin wobbling as his eyes brimmed with tears.

Bucky glanced at Julia, who quickly nodded and held her hands up.  “No sir,” she cried.

He glared at them both for another moment before nodding.  He stood from the table, putting his gun away before walking toward the door they had come through.  He stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Julia.  “If I ever even hear of either of you again, I’ll end you.  Slowly,” he warned, his metal arm whirring as he clenched his fist.  Julia sniffled sadly, nodding again.  Bucky huffed a laugh at how pathetic they were, then walked out of the house.  If there was anything he could do to protect his babycakes, he would do it.  

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Hi I LOVE how you write!!!!

Could you do Fluff In ho x reader where reader lives with her parents but they have a bad relationship where they don't treat her right and are always making coments about her and her body and one day after a right reader calla In ho crying saying she can't take it anymore and begs In ho to take her away and he is at reader's front door in less than 10 minuts and decides that reader is saying with him and make reader feel better and forgets about all the thing that they said about her. thanks <3

Somewhere In the Middle

Player 001 x reader [FLUFF] 🎀

Masterlist <- comment here to be added to the Taglist

You’d met In Ho a while back at a birthday party, some colleague of your dads. He stood by you at first, sipping slowly on his champagne while you did the same.

“Some party, huh?” He whispered to you. You nodded, smiling back. “Hello, I’m Hwang In Ho, I don’t believe I’ve seen you at the station before, are you new?” You laughed,

“No, my dad is (l/n) (f/n)” you pointed to your now drunken father who was dancing with your mom. His smile shining brightly, a good mask he was wearing.

“Oh! He never mentioned a daughter as beautiful as you” he said with a shocked expression. You looked down, you didn’t feel beautiful.

“Thank you”

That was then. Now, you almost 19 and still in high school, your late birthday holding you back. You walked inside and set your shoes quietly on the rack.

“Well, look who it is” your mother sighed, looking at your soaked body and clothes. “You missed dinner”

“You didn’t wait?” You asked hurt. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“No, of course not. You’re always late. And you’re soaking my floor. Go to your bedroom. Get those clothes off before you ruin the rest of the house” your mother spat harshly. You weren’t always late, it was raining. The buses were full, the trains were full. You had walked 10 miles to get home. In the pouring rain.

“While you’re at it, can you make sure your room is picked up? It’s an eyesore” you dad added from the table.

“My door is never open” you answer.

“Don’t talk back.” Your father whipped his head to look at you. “Such a wretched girl” your heard him mutter as you shuffled past. Your clothes stuck to your skin.

You returned a moment later. Looking through the fridge and microwave for food. Your mother eyes you carefully.

“Dinner is gone. We finished it” she said pointedly. You dropped your shoulders. Looking at her sorrowfully.

“You didn’t save me any?” You nearly cry. This was the third day in a row that you had barely eaten.

“No, we didn’t. You weren’t here on time, dinner is over. You know the rules, late for dinner nothing for the rest of the day” she answered.

“B-b-but, I haven’t eaten in three days, ma” you tell her. She shrugged.

“You should eat more” your father spoke. “You’re too thin, not attractive.”

“No, she’s too fat. Not attractive.” Your mother countered. She pulled up your shirt, pointing to your visible ribs and pronounced pelvis. “I suppose you’re right.

“How am I supposed to eat more when you don’t save food for dinner or wait for me?” You ask. Your feelings hurt as you snatched your shirt down.

“You know the rules (y/n)” your dad sighed looking back at his newspaper. “Figure it out”

“Dad! Are you being serious?” You question. “You guys are terrible parents” you utter quietly.

“What did you say?” Your father said as your mother gasped.

“I said you guys are terrible parents” you say with determination and walk away, leaving them before you broke down in tears. You threw yourself onto your bed, snatching your phone quickly. Failing the only number you knew.

“Hello?” In Hos voice came through the phone.

“In Ho…” gasped through your tears. “I need you to come get me. They’re terrible, I haven’t eaten in days, I’m starving” you began ranting through your tears.

“I’m on my way” was all he said. You awaited his arrival, only grabbing your backpack phone and charger. A text came in five minutes after the phone call ‘I’m here’ is all it said. You left your room, walking past your parents, ignoring calls of your name.

His car sat idol in the rain as he stood by your door. You ran and jumped into his arms, sobbing hard in his shoulder. He rubbed your hair gently, coaxing you with soothing words.

Timeskip:

You lay curled up into him. Players of food surrounding you, cans of coke scattered on the bedside table. Sighing heavily as you watched Fast and Furious.

“When do I go home?” You ask him with tear filled eyes.

“You’re not going back there” he said, his eyes burning yours with an intensity that you felt in your soul. “You will never go back there. They’re terrible don’t treat you right, you’re underfed, your clothes are raggedy, you’re too young and beautiful” he gently kissed the top of your head.

“I’m not beautiful” you mumble.

“Yes you are. You have always been beautiful. Ever since I first met you, you’ve always been beautiful. You are attractive, you are what I need in my life.” He said with finality. His words echoed in your heart. Reverberating through your body. I am beautiful. You repeated to yourself.

Taglist:

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @player279achlys @galaxygurlll @whamzou @watasinekoru @angelofthorr @amandalol1414 @supersonika143 @cathers-world @motchipotchi

[everwalldigan]

Hey I am having a scene in a fic where a very high strung moment Damian begins to curse in Arabic. What would be the correct way to phrase that?

Thank you

Ooh great question! There are a LOT of very colourful Arabic curse words varying in severity but in Damian’s case he was like raised to very strict and high manners, so even in high strung situations he probably wouldn’t use the colloquial “lower class” swear words. I’m going to list some of the “less vulgar” swear words I know (keep in mind I’m Iraqi and these are the swear words I know in my dialect and ones in high Arabic, there are soo so so many more.)

The most generic swear words insult the parents so you’d say “yabn ___”

Yabn Al kalb (son of a dog) or you could skip the parent and call them a dog (kalb) (tho idk how insulting Damian would find that cause he loves and respects dogs)

Yabn Al lai’in (son of the cursed) (this one’s so clean I’ve heard it in kids cartoons before) you could also just say “Al la’ana” which means “the curse” could be used as “shit”

Honestly Damian would probably use High Arabic swear words and sound like an Arabic dub character ASHSJSJDJ absolutely hilarious to any other Arab person in the vicinity.

Al’ama (Lebanese/yemeni region dialect) or as we like to say “a’amaaaaaaa” meaning the blindness, could be substituted for “damn!”

You could also make him say “ya a’ama” (you blind person) (keep in mind those are the tamest I can think of, the other ones are MUCH more offensive)

You could always go the route of Damian saying… angry sounding words in Arabic that aren’t REALLY swear words just to let out his frustration without everyone in the close vicinity understanding him. You can just make him rant about the situation in Arabic, maybe with some choice words like “ahlbal” (naive) or “ghabi” (stupid)

If you want to know ones in a specific dialect I can help with that too, I know Egyptians have some really funny ones (ya nhar iswid! - oh black day) and idk how much you wanna tie him to Islam but we also like to literally curse people (eg: Allah ya’amik - may god blind you or Allah yagbirak: may god put you in the grave)

If it’s from another persons POV who doesn’t know Arabic they wouldn’t be able to distinguish anything from an angry ranting boy, if it’s from Damian’s POV you can say “he says some choice words his mother would smack him for” or something like that cause again he was raised in a VERY high class setting, as a prince basically and cursing would be “beneath him”

[theheartcollecter]

GHOUL

Fem!Reader x Monster!141

Chapter 4: Dain

Warnings: none (lmk if I missed any)

A/n: I don’t have a scheduled posting time but expect a new chapter every week!

“Quite the show you put on ova’ there.” I turn my head to see Simon walking along side me in the halls. Black hoodie, worn jeans, a pair of sneakers, and, of course: his mask. Simon hasn’t talked to me much these past days so I try to cherish every moment with the hulking wraith.

I let a smile ghost over my lips, “Thanks. Hope I didn’t scare you away.” Simon’s eyes find mine. “Scare me away? You’d ‘ave t’ do much worse.” His words are so true it stuns me for a moment, i turn my gaze towards the floor as the two of us keep walking to the barracks. The emotions welling up inside me are banging at my heart to be let out, to express every thought that has ever crossed my mind about the men who saved my life. They weren’t perfect, sure, but they were enough. Enough for me. I had seen how they lingered close to one another, small touches here and there that give away their closeness. I would if I could squeeze in; if I too could receive small touches from them.

Simon is quiet the rest of the way, he opens the door for me when we get to the barracks. “Gaz made some biscuits earlier. Want some?” I shake my head. “Who’s Gaz?” I mutter as Simon opens a container filled with chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. “Kyle,” Simon says between bites of the sugary dessert, “Gaz is his code name.” I hum, “Humans foods taste like ash to Ghouls. I guess you weren’t aware.” I explain as I sit down on a stool in front the kitchen island and lean my chin on my palm. Simon grunts in acknowledgment, finishing the rest of his cookie. “How long have you been working with the Task Force?” I question. Simon comes around the other side of the island, leaning his back onto it. He crosses his arms, with his sleeves no rolled up I can see his muscles bulging under his ombre arms. I must have been staring the way Simon looks at me, almost predatory. A lamb in a wolf’s den, although I am certainly not as helpless as a lamb, I proved that much this morning. “Almost ma whole life. How long you been a Ghoul?” I sigh, “Its all a bit blurry now, but two or three months.”

Ghouls lose almost all memory of their human lives after being turned. I remember my parents and some close friends but other than that I couldn’t tell anyone what my routine was or where I went to school. “I know what it’s like.” Simons says, his voice snaps me out of my sulking. “To feel different, like a monster.” I stare up at him with a deeper emotion: appreciation. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words come from someone. I’ve ate so many Ghouls sometimes I do wonder if I’m even a Ghoul anymore. Maybe I’ve turned into some mutation, an outcast who belongs to no group or family, with no friends or companions. Simons hand caresses my shoulder, “Don’t ‘ave to feel that way, me and the boys got you now.” I touch his hand to make sure it’s real. The feeling of belonging to something, someone. “Thank you.” I say it so quietly I’m not sure if he even heard me, but a nod from him reassures me. “Go get cleaned up, you stink from training.” I chuckle a little before rolling my eyes and getting up. With one last glance towards Simon, I head to my room.

I strip myself in the bathroom, there are no scars on my body, but the memories still remain. My milky hair, crimson eyes and unusually sharp canines. Stepping into the shower, the warm water runs over my body. I scrub floral scented shampoo in my hair, and then soap on my body.

When I get out I change into some sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. Opening my door and walking down the hall I’m greeted by the boys sitting at the dinning room table discussing something. “Ah, Bonnie. Come sit down.” Johnny pats a chair next to him. I sit, looking at the papers on the table. A couple unrecognizable faces, but one stands out. Red eyes and blue hair, unmistakably a Ghoul I knew. “Ya know ‘im?” Kyle asks. “Yes.” I respond, but my eyes are still trained on the Ghouls face. John grunts, “We’ve got a new mission, hoping you could help us. These men ‘ave been using this Ghoul, it’s gotten outta hand.” I meet his eyes, “Who is he, sweetheart?” “I used to be friends with him when I first turned…but something changed, and he led me to the Ghoul you saved me from.” I bite the inside of my lip. It feels vulnerable to admit this, almost embarrassing that I’d be so dumb to trust him. Him. Dain. He was kind at first, showed me how to use my Kagune and hunt properly. But then..he got involved with a bad bunch.

Johnny clasps my hand, his blue orbs staring into my vermillion ones. “Ya don’t have ‘t do it,” his voice is soft, like he’s speaking to a lover. “Ya can say no.” My lips part, then close again. I look at the others, none of them say anything in rebuttal to Johnny’s statement. “No, I can do it. What do I need to do?” I look at John, my hand still holding Johnny’s on the table. “Kill him?” John sighs, “If that’s what has t’ happen, then, yes. But if ya can get ‘im away from the others, then keep ‘im alive.”

The boys talk some more as afternoon turns into night, they finally get up to head to the mess for dinner. “Want anythin’ love?” Kyle asks, I shake my head. He smiles at me. God, it’s like the sun shining. “Did Cap’ tell you that’s my shirt?” My face contorts in confusion, “Oh, it is?” I look down at the shirt and now I realize it’s a couple sizes too big. Kyle laughs, “Ya look cute in it.” He winks and leaves out the barracks with the others. My face feels hot, I look down at my sock-clad feet and let a dumb smile cross my face.

Taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @sugarrush-blush @caffieneaddictt18 (lmk if you want to be added or removed)

[uchiha-gaeshi]

I would never wish growing up in a hyper religious African house on my worst enemy. The cognitive dissonance is insane especially if you grow up in the West yet your family (and other African families around you) insist on clinging on to asinine “traditions” that are really just covers for abuse.

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[thirsty-4-ghouls]

No one has been more convincing about encouraging me to play fallout new Vegas than the queer people in my phone. Literally every straight man I know in real life could not be half as convincing as the autistic queer people on this website

[wriokitty]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[malachitezmeyka]

Why does the woman who unfortunately gave birth to me always feel the need to ruin the one good day I have in ages

[zhelin-thames]

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”

[alienzil]

Nanny Danny

“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.

He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…

It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.

“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”

“Take him out.”

“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”

“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”

“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”

*****

Two years later

“Call them again”

“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”

“Then call another agency!”

“There isn’t another agency, Sir”

Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.

He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”

Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”

His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”

“Well?”

She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”

“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”

She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”

“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.

“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.

“Is this ice?”

“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”

“This machine was moved?”

“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”

Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.

“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.



“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 

the way the world works. 

the way you and satoru work. 

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach