#as in they barely talk and most conversations are 'have you heard of that shit (the other sibling) did'

[blood-orange-juice]

Hold on, you said something about Childe having a fabulously gay brother?? How did I miss that?

It's a headcanon! It's never mentioned in the game but look at this guy. No way he doesn't have a fabulously gay older brother.

As in, WHO DO YOU THINK PICKED HIS GLOVES FOR HIM? Huh? Huh?

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 09. Oh no!

PREV PART Trigger warning: (past, current) mental + physical + emotional neglect, (name) pretends everything is fine, talking down of oneself, Reader isn't out towards the batfamily yet, mental gymnastics, disabilties are finally talked about, guilt, I think this is my longest chapter yet, pls tell me if I missed any warnings main m.list        series m.list

When you woke up your body felt sluggish as you try to remember what happened, you must have a fever, why else would Alfred be at your bedside sleeping. Seeing him there reminds you of the times your heart ached for his comfort, for the times you wished he would finally stand up for you. But he didn’t, he never takes your side.

Their reaction to you passing out must’ve been extreme, because the moment you tried to manoeuvre past Alfred Dick was there, standing in front of your door with a panicked expression. “You shouldn’t get out of bed,” he says with an attempted smile. It just makes you narrow your eyes and spitefully stand up. You ignore how the room spins and how your pain spreads to your neck and fingertips. It’s almost as if Dick can sense your discomfort (it would be a first) because the moment you lose your balance he’s there to keep you standing straight. “you really are stubborn.”

His words weren’t meant to make you flinch, but they still did. You don’t trust him, and you might never, anything negative from him puts you on edge (even if his statement is true). You never know how any of your siblings will react, and quite frankly you always found Dick the most difficult from all of your siblings. Impossible to read and always wearing that fake smile, he always used that smile when he interacted with you, keeping his real smiles for his true family. “Don’t touch me,” you hiss, raising your voice enough to wake Alfred up and enough for Dick to step back.

“(name),” he whispers as he moves towards you, checking your temperature with his hand not allowing you to flinch away from him. “Good, no fever….” Yet your eyes look anywhere but at his.

“Now that you’ve done the bare minimum to keep yourselves from wallowing in guilt,” you start, ignoring how Alfred’s face falls, how Dick’s breath becomes ragged and uneven. “I want you both to leave, I need to change for school.”

“You don’t seriously think you are going to school,” Dick says as his eyebrows furrow, his arm crossed on his chest. “not after passing out like that.”

You laugh, you couldn’t help it. Now they want to care for your health. “Didn’t you guys not send me to a hospital after I was viciously beaten and possibly had internal bleeding?” you shot back, and finally they look guilty. Their guilty faces and nervous ticks make you smile, finally you feel heard. “I pass out quite often, especially since then, I am going to school so get out, I’m going to be late.”

“At least let me drop you off,” Dick says before Alfred can protests. “it would make sense, Damian’s classes are in one of your school buildings today.”

You laugh. “Oh, he doesn’t want to be seen with me. Don’t you know?” But when you see Alfred’s nails digging in his palm you start to feel guilty. Perhaps Jason’s right and you are being a piece of shit. “But fine, I suppose, just get out I need to do my hair and put my uniform on.”

They listen, but once you close your door Alfred and Dick stare at each other. Having a conversation with each other with just their eyes. You are hiding something about your health, and they’ll force to the doctor if they must. “I’ll brief Damian of the plan,” Dick tells Alfred. “I’ll try to get more information out of them.”

Alfred nods and sighs; “Duke has been helpful but evasive, but it’s clear he doesn’t trust us.”

Dick nods, and he can’t help but think; ‘Who would? If they knew what we did?’

“He’s honouring (Name)’s autonomy,” Dick acknowledges as he brushed his hair back with his hands. “more then we have ever done…”

Awh, the poor bats are becoming self-aware, and guilt is weighing heavy. Too bad that it isn’t enough to compensate for your pain.

You, who had quickly done your hair (honestly you tried, it looks terrible but it is too much for you to handle right now, so it’s alright) and put on your uniform, was now in the kitchen, grabbing a quick bite to eat and make some lunch. It was important to nourish your body after such a health incident. You need to take care of yourself, alright? Otherwise Maria and Duke would absolutely hound you on this. You just wish Cassandra wasn’t here, analysing your every move. “You’re in pain,” she says simply. “you have been for a while.”

“Wow,” you say without thinking, looking over your shoulder slightly amused. “you’ve only noticed now?”

“I’m not talking about mental pain,” she says, and that makes you freeze, dropping your lunch box in your bag and you couldn’t be more glad about getting one with an extra safety lock. “you are ill.” You chuckle, you couldn’t believe it. Cassandra knows, and she has known for a while. “Is it because of Jason?”

You turn around as you place your back on the counter. “What has Duke told you?” you aren’t angry with him, no, whatever he told them, it doesn’t matter. He’s just trying to help. “Or is that just a small personal theory?”

“A theory, Duke has been evasive with his answers,” she admits, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read your body language. But it comes up the same as always, on edge, in pain and angry. “said that he wouldn’t break his future sister’s trust.”

“Huh, so Brucie is adopting him,” you comment.

“But he has told us the full story about what Jason did,” Stephanie says, coming into the room pretending as if she hasn’t been eavesdropping from the moment she realised Cassandra was trying to get answers out of you. “I’m sorry, if I knew-”

You scoff, cutting off her sentences. Your eyes watering, you always wanted acknowledgement of what happened. You wanted these girls to tell you what your family did was wrong. But it’s too late now, and Cassandra could read that. She could see your shoulders tense, biting your lip as you try and keep your breathing steady. You feel unsafe, and she wonders if she didn’t ignore your pain. If she realised the damage they were doing to you, would you be happier? Would you be healthier?

Oh, having a moral compass can be quite difficult, can’t it?

“I don’t want none of your apologies,” you tell them, your eyes look dull and they feel lifeless. Something Stephanie often saw with the victims her father created. Is she just as bad as her father? At this point she would say to a degree. And if you will allow her to, she’ll do anything to make it right. But there is no time for that, Dick is here to drive you to school. “and our conversation is done, Cassandra, be sure to keep your mouth shut.”

While Stephanie hasn’t heard the whole conversation you two had (and could you really call it a conversation?) Cassandra obviously asked something about your health. Something that you have hidden from them all, even legally.

Well illegally, seriously, how did you perfect replicating Bruce’s signature? Even Tim couldn’t replicate it to that degree, if he were to compare your falsified signature with one of Bruce’s actual signatures it barely has any differences (Barbara would love to learn from you). The ink only looks thicker on your falsified one, Bruce always kept his pen-strokes light and precise.

But there is no time to ponder about that right now, they need to focus on you actually getting into Dick’s care. He bugged it with one of his earpieces so that the bat-family could analyse you interacting with Dick and Damian. The two you always interacted with the most before Jason’s attack, but even that was limited.

When you got into the car, you notice how Damian was sulking. Something you’ve never seen him do, besides that one time that Bruce scolded him loud enough that you could hear him from your room. You ignore him and buckle yourself in, joining him on the backseat. “Don’t you want to sit in the front seat?” Damian asks confused, and you shake your head. No way in hell are you sitting next to Dick.

“I don’t like the passenger seat.” Liar, liar pants on fire~!

Damian’s eyes narrow and scratches the skin under his nail. ‘huh,’ you think, absentmindedly. ‘we have similar anxiety ticks.’

With that Dick drives away, trying to build up a conversation. But truly, you couldn’t give a shit. You’re texting with Duke, you have chemistry the first hour, and you want to make sure that he knows that you don’t blame him for letting Bruce adopt him and such. That you just hope that he would keep your back and stay close to you when he joins the family.

Truly, aren’t you embarrassed by this? How insecure can you be?

‘Ofc, I won’t! I swear I’ll explain everything once B signs the papers. Thank you for not being mad :)’ The text makes you smile, once Duke swears something, he keeps that promise. He’s more trustworthy than your mother, she always had her fair share of secrets.

‘I could never be mad at my favourite brother, and you didn’t out me so that makes me not being mad a lot easier /hj’ you sent back before closing your phone, closing your eyes in as you feel stress leaving your body. You’re excited to see him again, you can’t wait to tell your friends about Duke joining your family. It would make your time left there a lot more bearable.

The thought of not being alone withyour ‘family’ anymore made your frown disappear. But it returned the moment you got closer to school. “Drop me off here,” you say, ignoring how Damian’s hand itches. Clearly wanting to grab your uniform jacket. “my friends are waiting for me.”

Dick nods, knowing he shouldn’t push you. You’ll just shut down even more, and it would become even more difficult to re-connect connect with you. He could feel bile rise in his throat the longer he thought about what he has done, about the behaviour he has been complicate in. Oh, but how can he make you see that it was all for the best? How can he make himself see that it was all for the best?

He can’t, he should be on his knees begging for your forgiveness, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. He just doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know where he went wrong.

“That was a disaster,” Damian says when he can see you running up to your friends. Dick sighs, but he agrees. Damian knows it, he can see the disappointment on his older brother’s face, it makes him angry at you. But at the same time, why was he angry at you for their behaviour? Why did he give up your love for Jason when he was clearly in the wrong? Is it because of his time in the league, or is there still hatred in his body for you just simply existing?

Oh, what can the bat-family do when all they’ve done is estrange themselves from you? Can they redeem themselves, or will Duke take their place? Will your friends take their place besides your side?

With Duke you would still be apart of their family, but if you were to estrange yourself further from them, go no-contact and acknowledge your friends as your family and only allow Duke in your life they would have no excuse to try and make you understand their side. To try and get you to forgive them.

Because if they right their wrongs, you’ll have to love them. Right?

NEXT PART well, I am using this chapter as a distraction, my grandpa is getting better already tho! And I'm allowed to visit soon, so he's out of any danger zones, if you have any feedback do tell me. I have too many ideas of how to transition to the full yandere part and my brain needs to slow down fr.

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[blaqcats-fics]

unfortunately, i usually don't keep track of birthdays specifically in fandoms. so, imagine my shock when i found out that i share a birthday with bruce wayne (feb 19) — based on silverage and modern-age Batman. it is also a shock that i also just found out this man is a pisces. so in honor of both of our birthdays, here’s just a fun little skit!!

It starts with a podcast.

Tim’s the one who’s listening to it, earbuds in, looking for background noise while he codes. He barely registers the conversation until he hears the words:

“You know who gives me serious Pisces energy? Batman.”

Tim blinks. Rewinds. Listens again.

“I mean, think about it. Secretive? Brooding? Carries the weight of the world on his shoulders but refuses to talk about his feelings? Classic water sign behavior. Probably cries in the Batmobile.”

Tim immediately forwards the clip to the family group chat.

Steph is the first to react.

Steph: HOLY SHIT WAIT IS BRUCE A PISCES??

Damian: Don’t be ridiculous.

Steph: NO. THIS MAKES SENSE.

Steph: Moody. Overdramatic. Keeps adopting kids for no reason other than his feelings?? Classic Pisces.

Dick: If Bruce is a Pisces, that would explain SO MUCH.

Damian: This is stupid. He doesn’t even believe in astrology.

Steph: Because he’s a Pisces and doesn’t want to be perceived.

Dick: Wait when is his birthday again??

Tim double-checks. Then he stares at the date.

Tim: …Feburary 19th.

Silence.

Then:

Steph: OH MY GOD.

Dick: OH MY GOD.

Damian: This means nothing.

Jason: No. No. It means EVERYTHING.

—

When Jason jumps on board, things escalate.

Because Jason starts compiling evidence.

“Think about it,” he tells Dick later that night. “He’s moody as hell. He broods. He internalizes everything. He loves tragedy. I bet you anything he listens to sad music while doing patrol.”

Dick, who has personally witnessed Bruce listen to Chopin while looking out over Gotham like he’s in a Victorian novel, has no counterargument.

—

Alfred’s reaction is the worst.

“Master Bruce is, indeed, a Pisces,” he says when asked. “It explains quite a bit, I’ve always thought.”

Bruce is right there.

He looks up from his paperwork, eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t explain anything.”

“Of course, sir.” Alfred’s voice is as dry as the Batcave itself. “It is mere coincidence that you have the emotional repression of a particularly stubborn fish.”

—

Now that they know, they start noticing everything.

“He’s so sentimental,” Steph says, watching Bruce silently look at the Bat-Signal with his arms crossed. “Like. Deeply sentimental. I bet he has an old love letter tucked away somewhere that he rereads when he’s feeling tragic.”

Jason hums. “He does keep Selina’s notes.”

Tim gasps.

“Oh my god,” Dick whispers. “He’s the most Pisces to ever Pisces.”

—

The final straw is when Cass catches Bruce watching a French noir film in the dark with a glass of scotch.

She takes a picture.

It’s sent to the group chat immediately.

Cass: Look at this. Look at him.

Tim: That is the most Pisces shit I’ve ever seen.

Jason: He’s mourning a past life rn.

Steph: He’s thinking about his tragic love affairs. Probably wishing he could save them.

Dick: He’s gonna write poetry about it later.

Damian: All of you need to be stopped.

—

Eventually, Bruce notices.

Because of course he does.

“What,” he says, standing in the middle of the Batcave, staring at them like they’ve personally betrayed him, “is happening?”

Nobody speaks.

Then Damian, who has had enough, scowls and says, “They have been discussing your astrological sign.”

Bruce blinks.

“They are also keeping a list of your most Pisces-like behaviors.”

Jason immediately hurls a smoke bomb to escape.

It doesn’t end there.

—

A week later, Clark drops by.

“I heard you were a Pisces,” he says, grinning.

Bruce throws a batarang at him.

[carnalcrows]

SWEET TREATS

pairing: thanos x male reader

synopsis: You and Thanos get high and make a bet.

content warnings: 18+, no actual smut, mostly crack, weed usage, semi-nudity (they stack donuts on their dicks).

word count: 0.7k (its pretty short lol)

It started out as a normal night.

You had a routine with Thanos—hang out at his place, mess around, talk shit, and eat whatever snacks one of you happened to bring. Tonight, you showed up at his door with a box of donuts, the good kind with the custard filling and powdered sugar that got everywhere.

Thanos answered the door in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking like he had just rolled off his couch. “What’s up?”

You lifted the box. “Brought bribes.”

He smirked, stepping aside to let you in. “That depends. Are we talking gas station donuts or real donuts?”

“The hell kinda question is that? I have standards.”

That earned you an approving nod as you strolled past him into the apartment. His place wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable—lived-in, full of random shit that only made sense to him. Some game controllers were scattered across the floor, the TV was still on from whatever he’d been watching earlier, and a faint smell of weed hung in the air.

“Damn, man,” you said, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the couch. “Didn’t even wait for me to start the party?”

Thanos grabbed a lighter off the table and flopped down next to you. “Figured you’d catch up.”

And so, you did.

After a few lazy hits, the both of you were comfortably buzzed, passing the blunt back and forth between bites of donuts. The conversation meandered from deep philosophical debates (which superhero had the worst life) to aggressively stupid topics (could a horse wear pants, and if so, how).

Everything was good. Relaxed. Just another night hanging out—until Thanos, in his infinite wisdom, leaned forward and changed the course of history.

"Alright," he said, looking at you with a sudden intensity that was both alarming and hilarious. "New bet."

You took another bite of your donut, already skeptical. “Oh, this should be good.”

Thanos smirked. “Whoever can stack the most donuts on their dick… wins.”

A beat of silence.

You blinked. “What.”

“You heard me.”

“No, no, I did. I just—” You gestured vaguely, like the sheer stupidity of the challenge was too big to be contained by words. “You want us to—what? Balance donuts on our junk like some kind of carnival game?”

Thanos shrugged, completely unfazed. “Scared you’ll lose?”

You sat up, narrowing your eyes. “I’d win.”

“Big talk for a guy who hasn’t even tried.”

“Oh, screw you, I’m in.”

And just like that, the dumbest competition of your lives began.

What followed was a series of events that neither of you would ever be able to explain to another human being.

The concentration. The frustration. The pure, unfiltered determination.

"Dude, stop laughing," you gritted out, trying to balance another donut.

"I'm not laughing," Thanos wheezed, very much laughing.

You threw a pillow at his face. "You're shaking the damn couch, you menace!"

"Not my fault you're weak," he shot back, squinting down at his own tower of donuts with the intensity of a man trying to solve a complex physics equation.

For a moment, silence. The air was thick with tension. Your focus was absolute.

Then—victory.

"HA!" you shouted, hands flying up as the last donut successfully stacked on top of your pile, beating Thanos by one.

Thanos blinked, looking from your donut tower to his, then back to you. Slowly, his expression darkened.

"Motherfucker—"

Before he could finish, he lunged. You barely had time to react before you were wrestling like two idiots, rolling off the couch in a tangle of limbs, crushed donut remains, and wheezy, half-giggled insults.

"Take the L, loser!"

"Screw you, rematch!"

"You wanna cry about it?"

The playfight ended when you both collapsed back onto the couch, exhausted, crumbs everywhere, Thanos half on top of you. He was still grumbling under his breath about his defeat, but you could feel the laughter shaking his shoulders.

You yawned, stretching lazily. "Admit it. I'm the donut stacking champion."

Thanos huffed, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the warmth of the room mixing with the leftover haze in your brain. Thanos didn't move off you, and you didn't make him (even though his dick was uncomfortably lodged between your thighs). You were both too tired to care.

"...Next time," Thanos mumbled, eyes fluttering shut, "I'm bringing bagels. Just wait."

You snorted, already half-asleep. "You're on."

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[anxi04]

Tim meeting Lex at a gala when he’s young. and becoming gossip besties with him

i finally wrote it after it infesting my brain enjoy

——————-

Tim thought the gala was going to be like most of the others, boring, annoying, nothing happening. And then he saw Lex Luthor. And he's a smart man, probably the only other smart person in here so why not start a conversation?

Lex thought this gala was going to be boring and a waste of time. And then this small child comes up to him talking about gossip that he didn't even know? And mentioning his incredibly secret cloning project he just started a week ago? He's going to be a villain and Lex wants to be on his good side.

————————

Tim sighed, annoyed. Gala's have always been incredibly boring, the only slightly fun things that happen at them have been either Bruce Wayne "tripping" over something and drenching someone else with whatever drink or liquid is near, or overhearing gossip, such as Robert Dewitt cheating on his wife with his brother. That was a fun day.

This gala is looking to be about the same as always, just even more boring. Bruce Wayne isn't attending (understandable, The Joker just broke out of Arkham again. He's sure there's a cover story for why Bruce isn't here but he doesn't care about that), no one is drawing attention to any scandals yet, or at least not in his ear range.

The only vaguely interesting thing here is Lex Luthor actually attending it for once. The man usually never spares a moment for anything aside from Metropolis (disgusting) and Superman. So there's at least one other smart person here but he also happens to be a super-villain (not that the general public knows) so… Not like Tim can just walk up to him and talk right?

"So as I was saying it really is quite unfortunate that your son won't take the company, I always thought he was a rather charming young man-" Fuck it Tim's gonna go talk to the super-villain.

"Have you heard about Rebecca Strawling?" Tim asks Lex, who absolutely did NOT jump at this child sneaking up behind him (seriously how did he do that? Even Superman, a man who constantly floats, can't sneak up on him.). Lex blinks for a second because, yes he had and holy shit what a thing that is, and also how does this child know? Also why is this child talking to him?

"That… Depends. What have you heard?" Lex says hesitantly. Despite Rebecca's… everything, she still hid it incredibly well. If Lex wasn't so bored at these gala's he would never have known, so either this child is just incredibly nosy, or possibly an actual smart person in this room. Either option would prove far more interesting than what he had been doing.

"Well I've heard about the several affairs she's had with everyone she claims to hate. Business rivals, the poor, queer people, her husband's family, and if it's to be believed her own family." And… Holy fuck, Lex had not been aware of that last bit. He raises an eyebrow at the ending which prompts a slight grin from the child as he takes his phone out. "I have evidence."

Does Lex actually… Enjoy being near a kid barely in the double digits? Absurd.

"You know Tim, that man over there? He's almost bankrupting his company and family by sending their money to a 'client.' I believe all his business partners are looking for someone to replace his spot." It's been an hour and a half. This is the most entertained Lex has been at one of these in decades. If Tim finds himself following the black hair, blue eyes orphan trend Lex will take him in himself so help him God. He's insanely smart, not only is he excellent at reading people and finding dirt on them easily, he's incredibly skilled at hacking without any proper training on it. This is a villain in the making and Lex will not let himself fall on his bad side.

"Now, I have a moral question for you Tim. What do you think the ethics on making a weapon out of a clone would be?" He's been toying with the idea of cloning Superman lately, however the actual… Making it a weapon has been bothering him. If it comes out an adult man it could easily decide it wants to do something else and rebel, however what would the effects be on making a child weapon that was created for that sole purpose? The effectiveness of it?

"Easy. Don't make the clone a weapon. It's either an adult clone who could choose to be a soldier, and actually listen to you, or decide it won't listen and possibly end up exposing you. If it's a child clone then sure you get a weapon for a few years but not having a choice would end up making them resent you. Give them a choice on it, just like the Sidekicks, like Robin, Kid Flash, Speedy, all them. I'd assume you would want a meta clone anyway and most meta's feel a sense of duty with their abilities so it'd be likely for them to decide something along what you want. Just a matter on if they like you and go with you, or turn to the other side." Tim answers without missing a beat and wow what a concerning sentence that would be to hear from a child if he were anyone else. As it is he's delighted by the response.

"Although cloning a Kryptonian would probably alter it, simply wouldn't get enough material so you would likely have to substitute some of the material for human and at that point use your own and raise the clone as a child." What. That's far too specific. "Oh, sorry I probably should've kept it more broad. Anyway you should update your security systems." Definitely a super-villain in the making. One that he very much wants to be on the good side of. On that note now he needs to update his whole system.

"Ah, Tim I'm glad you picked up. I'm a father now! I'd like you to meet my son, his name is Kon-El-"

"Oh, I've already met him. You actually interrupted our call. Kinda late on telling me." Of course.

"You know I could adopt you as well, get you from that bumbling buffoon that is Wayne."

"Yeah but then my crush would become incestuous." His what? Know what he can work with this. Tim is joining his family one way or another.

Finally. A moment of peace for Lex to sit down, drink some coffee, and watch a rerun of his favorite show. "Luthor!" Oh great, the boy scout here to ruin his plans. Oh and is that his group for comic-con? There's the man of steel himself, Wonder Woman, Batman and… Wait. Oh this will piss Kal-El off to be ignored.

"Timothy! I was just about to call you. You remember Robert Dewitt, correct? You'll never guess what he's done now." Lex grins, standing up. He was meaning to update Tim on this particular… Creature. He's one of their favorites to catch up on, purely because of the absurdity of his debauchery. Although this time does have a reason, after all there's reason for dear old Robert to get locked up this time and he's been making some comments about Lex lately and well he can't just let that slide now can he?

Tim blinks for a second then realizes what Lex just said. "Wait you know? Of course you do why wouldn't you.. Actually wait that doesn't matter what the fuck did Robert do? Last I knew he wasn't allowed outside without an escort so I was expecting longer." Lex has a feeling it does in fact matter very much if the way Batman's eyes narrow and his jaw clench indicate anything. Lex needs to continue on or possibly get put in a hospital.

"Oh he's no longer allowed near animal shelters, so-" Kal-El cuts him off, incredibly rudely if he might add.

"What… What is going on here?" Poor man sounds so confused. Lex is savoring this moment.

"Well I know Timothy Drake is Red Robin. Clearly. Red Robin is the hero closest to becoming a villain which fits Tim quite well, and also Tim is the only Gothamite smart enough to be Red Robin. And infuriating enough to personally annoy Ra's al-Ghul on a regular." It's very simple honestly. Lex has no idea what's making this so complicated. "If it helps make you all feel 'safe' and 'secure' I could tell you about the time Timothy told me he had a crush on Kon-" And now Tim's thrown something at him. What is this, interrupt Lex day?

"Shut up! What if I told them about you and Clark Kent?" Ahh, expose his crush, get his own crush exposed. Well unfortunately Lex has no shame about that.

"You mean the man who could lift a 200 lb person with no effort? One of the very few good reporters?" Odd that Kal-El's face is getting red and confused but oh well. "Honestly though, who cares. You know Tim my offer for adopting you still stands. I know it must be absurdly easy to hide being Red Robin from your… family. However I think I could be of more assistance still." Batman's hands are clenching now. Interesting. "I mean you made a fake uncle to get out of being adopted by the oaf, I don't know why you didn't just let me." Ah, Batman's hands are unclenched. He must have thought that uncle was also real. Surprising, really, from 'The World's Greatest Detective' however they clearly have the wrong bat. "And does he even know about your missing spleen? Really, I should get him locked up for child neglect. Even I would notice if anything happened to Kon-El."

Tim's eyes widen at that and snap to Batman's equally wide eyes. They both jump into a sprint, Tim leaping out of a window with the Bat close behind. "Oh, did he not know? Oops."

Perfect. Hopefully that'll have been absurd enough that the Justice League leave him alone, and he can watch his show in peace.

[loafysainz]

The Royal Party | LN 4

lando norris!polo athlete x readers!princess x nick leister

warn: smut 18+, jealousy, posessive

fc: pinterest

prev chap

The grand ballroom of the palace was a spectacle of luxury, glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the sea of aristocrats, celebrities, and athletes mingling in their finest attire. The annual royal gala was an event of the highest prestige, a gathering of the elite where appearances mattered more than reality.

Y/N knew she looked good. No, scratch that—she looked fucking divine. The dress was designed to make a statement: elegant with just enough allure to have heads turning. And turn they did.

Lando knew it, too.

From the moment she stepped into the ballroom, his eyes hadn’t left her. Seated at the far end of the grand hall, drink in hand, jaw tight—watching. Brooding. The sharp tuxedo he wore did little to hide the barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface.

And the reason for that fury?

Nick fucking Leister.

The golden boy of the British aristocracy. Polished, charming, and, most annoyingly, the man everyone thought was Y/N’s perfect match. He was the kind of man you married—on paper, at least. Royal lineage, wealth, and an effortless charisma that had the entire ballroom swooning.

Including Y/N.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like.

Lando clenched his glass tighter, watching the way Nick leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. The sight of her smiling at another man made his blood boil. He wanted to tear that fucking smile off Nick’s face, wanted to grab Y/N and remind her exactly who she belonged to.

Nick wasn’t stupid. He could feel Lando’s stare burning into him, but he didn’t care. In fact, he enjoyed it. With a smirk, he raised his glass in Lando’s direction—a taunt, a challenge.

Big fucking mistake.

Lando set his drink down and moved, weaving through the crowd with purpose. The chatter and music became white noise as he closed the distance between them.

Y/N noticed him too late. One second, she was smiling at Nick, and the next, a firm hand was wrapping around her wrist.

“Lando—”

He ignored her, his grip unyielding as he turned to Nick.

“Back off, man.” Lando said, voice deceptively calm.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Lando took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Walk away. Now.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

Lando smirked, but there was nothing amused about it. “I do, actually. She’s mine.”

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling the tension radiating off him. People were starting to notice, eyes flickering toward the scene unfolding.

Nick scoffed. “That’s funny. Because from where I’m standing, she doesn’t look like she belongs to anyone.”

That did it.

Before anyone could react, Lando grabbed Nick by the collar, yanking him closer until they were nose to nose. His voice dropped and lethal.

“Listen to me, you privileged little shit,” Lando growled. “You’re not even in the same fucking league as me. So don’t fool yourself into thinking you have a chance.”

Nick’s smirk faltered just slightly. “You’re insane.”

Lando chuckled darkly. “No, I’m just not stupid enough to let someone else take what’s mine.”

Y/N’s heart pounded. This was getting out of hand. She stepped between them, pressing her hands against Lando’s chest, trying to create space. “Lando, stop,” she whispered.

Lando didn’t move, his jaw tightening, his eyes still locked on Nick like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.

Nick scoffed, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

Y/N exhaled, relieved.

“But we can continue this conversation tomorrow,” Nick added, eyes flicking back to her. “Right, Y/N?”

Lando stiffened. His entire body went rigid, his grip tightening around her waist possessively.

Y/N cursed silently. “Nick, just go.”

Nick smirked. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

Lando nearly lunged, but Y/N quickly placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her instead. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice soft, pleading. “Not here. Please.”

The room was watching. Murmurs spread through the crowd, eyes locked on them. Y/N subtly pressed a hand against Lando’s arm, signaling for him to leave first.

His eyes flickered between her and Nick before finally exhaling sharply. He leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. “You have five minutes,” he murmured darkly. “Then you find me.”

And with that, he turned and left.

The moment Y/N found him again, he didn’t waste time.

Lando pulled her into a darkened hallway, pressing her against the nearest wall. His hands were rough, desperate, tracing her curves like he needed to remind himself she was real, that she was his.

“You think it’s fucking funny?” he growled, his lips ghosting over her jaw. “Talking to him like that?”

Y/N gasped as his teeth grazed her neck, sucking just enough to leave a mark. “I was just trying to diffuse the situation—”

“Bullshit.” His fingers traced up her thigh, pushing her dress aside. “You like making me crazy, don’t you?”

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to grab his wrist, stopping him before he could go any further. “Lando, please,” she whispered, her voice desperate. “Don’t be crazy. This is a public place.”

Lando let out a low, humorless chuckle. “You think I give a fuck?” His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting. “You fucking hurt me, Y/N.”

His grip tightened slightly, frustration rolling off him in waves. “You stand there, laughing with him, letting him think he has a chance. Like I’m nothing.”

“Lando—”

“No,” he snapped, his control slipping. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fucking toy with me.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers again, harder, rougher. A desperate, punishing kiss, full of anger and something deeper—something darker.

Neither of them noticed the faint click of a phone camera nearby.

Someone had been watching.

And this? This was about to become a scandal.

[reidingandwriting]

Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.

[botanicsoul]

Heyy would you able to write a yn x katsuki smut fic where yn is very tall( I never see people inserting tall reader and I'm 6ft myself so it's hard out here😫🙏🏻) maybe stuff about him comforting her about her feeling insecure that she's too tall. Let ur imagination run wild idm. Thank you luv if u do decide to write this prompt 💗

OF COUUURRRSEEEEE!! i love a tall baddie😝

I hope you like it hun!🩷🌸

“Too Tall? Not for Me.”

Katsuki Bakugou x Tall!Reader | smut/comfort

MDNI (18+)

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

The club was loud, filled with the pulsing bass of music and the hum of conversation. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to come out tonight—maybe because Mina had insisted, claiming you needed to “stop sulking and have some fun.” But you already knew how nights like this went.

You stood near the bar, shifting uncomfortably in your heels, which only made you taller. At six feet, you were already taller than most girls, but the added height had every guy looking at you like you were some kind of battle ready pro hero.

You were used to it—the lingering stares, the hesitant glances from men too insecure to approach you. And even when they did, the comments were always the same. Damn, you’re tall. Do you only date guys taller than you? Or worse, I like petite girls, but you’re kind of intimidating.

It never used to bother you as much as it did now. But after years of feeling out of place, the insecurities had settled deep in your bones.

And then, there was him.

Katsuki Bakugou, standing a few feet away, talking with Kirishima and Denki. He was clad in a tight black tee that clung to his muscles, his hands stuffed into his jeans as he sipped at a drink. His crimson eyes flickered over to you, sharp and assessing.

You quickly looked away, heart pounding. Bakugou had never treated you differently because of your height. In fact, he’d always been normal about it—never bringing it up, never making a big deal out of it, the two of you had gotten a lot closer this year.

But that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t mean he was into girls like you.

So, when you felt a presence settle beside you, warm and solid, you stiffened.

“The fuck you doin’ all the way over here?” His voice was rough, teasing, a little loud to be heard over the music but there was something softer beneath it.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “Not in the mood for being stared at.”

Bakugou’s gaze flicked around the room, his expression darkening as he got closer to your ear so you could hear him better. “Who the hell is staring at you?”

You let out a dry laugh. “No one right now, but you know how it is. I don’t exactly blend in.”

He studied you for a long moment before clicking his tongue. “Who gives a shit?”

You sighed looking at him once a few inches away from each other’s face. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who gets treated like a goddamn skyscraper.”

Bakugou tilted his head slightly, his gaze unreadable. Then, without warning, he leaned in again, his lips brushing just beside your ear.

“Good,” he murmured. “Makes it easier for me to find you.”

Your breath hitched.

He pulled back, his smirk lazy and full of mischief. “Come on. Let’s get outta here this place is fuckin lame anyways”.

—

You barely made it inside his apartment before his hands were on you, rough and needy.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, pressing you against the door. His palms slid up your sides, over the curve of your waist, squeezing possessively. “Bet you don’t even know how fuckin’ hot you are.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Bakugou growled, nipping at your neck. “Shut up with that shit.” His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs. “Wrap ‘em around me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Katsuki, I’m too—”

“Too what?” His gaze darkened. “Too tall? Too strong? Too fuckin’ perfect?” He tightened his grip. “Let me make somethin’ real clear, princess—I don’t give a fuck about any of that.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling in your stomach.

“Now,” he rasped, lifting you with ease, “be a good girl and let me fuckin’ take care of you.”

And who were you to argue with that?

[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | seven

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, college au, smau/irl, cursing

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 0.9k

authors note: I don't have much to say more than I wanted some fluff after last part and that I fell asleep all afternoon and forgot to post earlier lmao

06 | 07 | 08

Sophomore year - October 2022

“Kelce just texted that they are coming up,” Rafe announced to everyone present.  

“The song—shit, where’s my phone?” Sarah asked, stressed.  

“I’ve got it; I will play it when she comes in.”  

“Look at you, taking initiative,” JJ teased, “or is it more than just initiative?”  

“Shut up.”  

“Why is he even here?” JJ asked, but before anyone could answer, they heard a knock on the door.  

“Shut up, JJ!” Kie whispered, slapping his arm.  

They all quieted down as Rafe backed the song, getting ready to turn up the volume. Sarah went to open the door, and as soon as you walked in, Rafe turned up the volume. He had chosen that song because he once heard you telling Ruthie that it was one of your favorites, and of course, he didn’t forget.  

When you walked inside, everyone shouted “Surprise!” as “Golden” blared through the speakers. Your face brightened the more you looked around. All your friends were there, and everything was decorated. You felt a warm feeling in your chest; when you started college, you had worried you wouldn’t find good friends, but seeing all of them there reminded you that things always worked out.  

One by one, they hugged you or congratulated you before returning to their previous conversations or heading to the kitchen to help prepare the food. Rafe was the last one to reach you; he didn’t know what to do. You two barely knew each other, but you also didn’t feel like total strangers.  

“Happy birthday again,” he said.  

“Thank you; I appreciate you remembering it,” you said, a bit nervous.  

“How did you spend it yesterday?”  

“It was great—mostly with my family. I went to lunch with them, and then we went to my house for the birthday cake.”  

“That’s great; I’m glad you had a wonderful day…” He paused for a second. “I brought you some flowers; hope you like them.”  

“Oh, you didn’t have to! Thank you, Rafe.” You smiled at him, and he could swear it was the best thing. Seeing you happy over something he did? The highlight of his week, and it was barely starting. Of course, he would never admit it out loud because he knows he would never hear the end of it.  

Sarah watched the scene from the kitchen but didn’t say anything. She knows Rafe likes you; it's as clear as ever, but she also notices how you are still not fully there, even if there is attraction. Everyone in that room could catch onto that, and yet no one decided to comment on it. JJ tried, but either Sarah or Kie slapped his arm to make him shut up.  

During the rest of the afternoon, you spent time making pizzas, playing board games, laughing, and truly enjoying the company of the people around you. It had been one of the best birthdays you had. Sarah had made sure to let you know that the Jellycat she got you was also from Rafe. You found the gesture extremely cute. You two talked a lot that day; it was small talk, nothing too deep, but it was something since it had been the most you two had talked in the past few months of knowing each other.  

Kelce tried to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t.  

“So, Rafe likes her for real?”  

“Is the sky blue?” Sarah asked back.  

“I don’t think she is that into him,” he said.  

“Oh… that’s not good coming from you.”  

“No, look, I see she is attracted to him, but I don’t know if she’s scared of liking him or something; it’s taking longer for her to warm up to him.”  

“I say give them time; I see potential there.”  

“Potential?”  

“I just have a feeling they will be together; I just know it.”

A few days later, you were hanging out with the girls and the guys at Sarah’s apartment again.  

“Okay, guys, plans for next week?”  

“I’m always down, but isn’t it a bit too soon for next week's plans?” JJ says.  

“Let her talk first,” Cleo interrupts.  

“Okay, so Topper…”  

“No,” Kie stops her. “Something always happens.”  

“That’s the fun part,” JJ replies.  

“Of course, you would say that,” Pope says, shaking his head.  

“Thank you, JJ,” Sarah says.  

“I’m with Kie,” John B says. “I was drunk for days after the last time the plan involved him.”  

“Oh, come on! It will be fun; some of his friends from the next town are coming.”  

“Yeah, he told the basketball team too,” JJ said. “Like a homecoming party?”  

“Housewarming party.”  

“Same shit.”  

“It is not the same,” Pope tried to correct him while you just looked at the scene unfolding in front of you. Cleo, JJ, and Sarah had agreed, while Pope, John B, and Kie were against it, so the tiebreaker was you.  

“Come on, Y/N,” Sarah said kindly. “It’s not gonna be a big party, I promise. I kinda know his friend, and he is more of a chill guy.”  

“Do you actually know him?”  

“Well, no, but I’ve seen him a couple of times, and he seems chill,” you sighed.  

“I guess it wouldn’t be that bad,” Kie, Pope, and John B sighed deeply. 

“This better be just a housewarming party, nothing else.”  

“The guy is moving alone, so he’s making a big deal; it was Topper’s idea to throw the party.”  

“Of course,” John B said, annoyed.  

“Can we at least know the guy's name?” Kie asked.  

“It starts with a J; let me look it up…” she said, scrolling through Topper’s chat. “Jordan, his name is Jordan.”

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @drewstarkeyspecs @winterivory @my-name-is-baby @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewrry @ursogorgeous13 @pr3tty-pink @lmaowhatt @reeseswirl @xoxosblogsblog @lili-swagalicious @ayy1234567 @rihannamars @congratsloserr @moonywhisp3rs @iamheretoread1234 @rafesdrew @bee-43 @pogueprincesa @cokewithcameron @landososcar @drewstarkeyslover @wintersoldierslover @rafecqmeronslove @defnotayonna @wintercrows @letstryagaintomorrow @rafestoothbrush if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :) follow and turn on notifications on @inthelibrarybtw-notifs to get updates on everything I write

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.

[noemilivv]

Could I please request a Vox, Adam, and Lucifer x GN! Reader who’s typically very chatty and hyper when excited. And maybe somebody says something like “you talk too much”, and it obviously gets to the reader. And how Vox, Adam, and Lucifer would respond and/ or defend their s/o? Thank you!~ :3

ofc!! this is very fun to brainstorm and write for haha (especially for Vox)

Warnings: S1 finale spoilers in Lucifer’s section, randos + Alastor being shitheads

Adam, Lucifer, Vox x Reader who talks a lot

Adam

He had absolutely no idea you felt this way until you two were having a conversation before bed, and he said something he didn't mean

“Geez, you talk a lot.” Adam commented with a light hearted chuckle as he looked down at you, snuggled into his chest and the covers of your shared bed, he didn’t mean any harm though, it was more so commentary.

“I can stop…” You murmured, embarrassed. “No no no, it’s okay, keep going.” He said, rushing to cut you off, as he snuggled your face deeper into his chest.

Adam won’t hesitate to jump in if somebody says something, because only HE can do that.

“You talk too much, you need to calm down, it’s not that serious.” An angel said, while at a meeting, your shoulders dropped before you heard your boyfriend pipe up,

“And? Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking Heaven, bitch. People are allowed to talk and be happy, damn bruh, you’re a fucking party pooper!”

Lucifer

He has his own tendencies to go on endless rants here and there so honestly you both just talk nonstop, and he doesn’t mind a bit!

If someone were to say something to you, he’d have a reaction similar to his reaction with the Charlie-Adam fight, but more tame cause the person didn’t physically harm you

“Stop talking and let me finish!” Alastor said cheerfully with a grin as he went to continue his sentence.

“You don’t get to talk to my partner that way, you smiling freak.” Luci said with a forced grin between gritted teeth, turning his focus away from the conversation with his daughter and her girlfriend and putting it to the conversation between you and Alastor.

“I’m the smiling freak? Look at you! You’re face is all messed up, especially that god-awful smile.” Alastor remarked, poking the bear that was the very protective Lucifer Morningstar, both when it came to his daughter and his partner.

“OKAY!” Charlie said attempting to separate the two, with Vaggie rushing to her aid.

Yeah, if they weren’t stopped, that wouldn’t have ended well😀

Vox

He doesn’t mind your talks, he’s a good listener, but he might not catch everything if he’s working, but if he’s not? He’s all ears.

He’ll act super nonchalant about it, but he thinks it’s the cutest thing.

Normally, he isn’t willing to cause a scene because of his status, but when someone insults the thing he loves most about his partner? Yeah, that shit isn’t flying with him around.

You were scrolling through the comments of the most recent interview that Vox had on his show, which happened to be with you, and you couldn’t bare what you were reading. Mainly the comments like: ‘Omfg Vox’s partner doesn’t stop talking’ or ‘Vox can do better’ or ‘Can they just shut the fuck up? Like bro it’s not that hard.’

You just shut your phone off and slammed it onto the night stand, as tears trickled down your face, all you wanted was to be enough for him, if these people think these things, he probably would to.

You hear someone enter your shared bedroom, with you curled up in blankets and sniffles coming out of you, you feel the bed dip next to you, and a robotic voice that has to belong to Vox ask, “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“People are just mean…” You mumbled, turning on your other side to face him and picking up your phone and handing it to Vox, you watched Vox scroll for a moment, watching his eye twitch angrily.

“I will handle it, sweetheart. I’ll be right back, don’t you worry your precious mind about a thing.” Vox said, stroking your hair, as he got up and left the room.

Turns out, Vox did a bit of…digging. He got the contact information of the main commenter who gave you issues, and sent them, a little surprise video…

The video showed Vox in office chair, he got straight to the point immediately, banging his fist onto his desk. “Listen here, you little bitch.” He growled, he was glitching out of anger already, damn.

“You don’t get to talk about my partner that way.” Vox stated, waving his pointer finger at the camera, “And if you do?” Vox asked rhetorically, giving a fake grin, before he became more visibly angry then you’ve ever seen him.

“I will personally find you myself, you low-life, fucking loser, and I will tear you apart. Just because your a sad sad, 40 year old virgin man, who still lives with mommy and daddy rent-free and plays on your VoxBox all day, doesn’t mean you get to insult my partner, and you should know better to not EVER pull that shit again, and if you even think about trying to I’ll fly drowns all throughout Hell and make sure they fucking find you and rip you apart, you hear me?”

His anger falters as the glitch does in his voice, “Anyway, have a lovely day, and don’t fuck with my partner again.” He said with his usual show grin as the screen went black immediately.

Yeah, don’t expect him to do that often.

[softsunnyy]

Jack misunderstood your closeness to one of your friends after overhearing a conversation. This led him to make decisions that hurt both of you.

it was then that your friends decided to make a plan… one that can go very well or really bad.

🚨 angst, fluff, it was supposed to be enemies to lovers, but i got distracted and ended up writing a loser and jealous Jack. Trevor is a flirty mf. Luke is a bit of an enemy. Really poor ending. No use of yn 🚨

while writing this i came up with a super smutty alternate ending, so let me know if you want that one too.

when Jack woke up that morning, he knew from the start that the day would be chaotic, as the first thing he heard was his friends' voices from the living room, along with his brothers' voices and some music in the background. Still, he mentally prepared himself, showered, dressed, and went to see them.

what he didn't expect was the scene he found.

sure, he knew you were coming; Luke told him, and even warned him to behave. But this? Since when did you become so close to his friends? Cole doesn't seem to want to leave your side, like a child clinging to its mother. And you're laughing too loudly for his liking at whatever Trevor and Alex are telling you.

what's going on? this didn't used to be like this the last time he saw you.

Quinn stood beside him, smiling amusedly, and Jack hates the way Quinn seems to know something he doesn't.

"what?" he asks, defensively, to which his brother just nudges him.

“nothing, why that face? i thought Luke told you she was coming.” He asked, in a tone that only shows how entertained he is.

"yeah, well, i didn't know i'd have to see her so close to my friends all these days too," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

and see, it's not that Jack was a piece of shit, or a terrible friend. In fact, you two used to get along pretty well. But his problem is still fairly recent, and he was hoping to have a couple of quiet, normal days, enjoying himself with his friends, and trying to stay as far away from you as possible.

and that must sound pretty dramatic, so for some context, when Luke started telling them about his new friend, they knew right away she´s a good girl, someone who would fit in with their environment. But Luke was clear about one thing, and that was that he didn't want to see Jack flirting with her, and much less breaking her heart.

"please" he said.

and he agreed not to look at you any other way, but when he first met you, he knew it would be a difficult task because you're beautiful, and that combined with how nice you are made everything much harder for him.

and can you blame the man?

when you two talked, it was like a connection. It was easy. And then you kept talking and talking, and Jack felt like he was in heaven every time you stopped talking to everyone else to look at him, to include him in a conversation or start a new one.

and the days passed, and it felt right.

it was almost ridiculous, the way his eyes always found you, and he couldn't stop looking at you, even if you were in the most crowded place.

and the first time he made you laugh? god, he knew he wanted to do it all the time because he loved the feeling of pure happiness that came from seeing you laugh so hard at something he said.

it wasn't even about asking you out, flirting, or getting you into his bed. He wanted to talk to you all the time. He wanted you to see him as a cool guy, to feel the same way.

but that all went down the drain when he accidentally overheard a conversation you were having with his brother. You were talking to him about a boy, and you spoke with such energy and emotion that a part of him wished you were talking about him.

and he got excited, he believed there was a possibility.

but the next day he saw you, talking too much to Ethan, barely even looking at him, as if he no longer existed to you. And he felt weird, of course, but he tried to ignore it.

the thing is… this kept happening. For days, your attention was on Ethan, and the conversations between the two of you started to disappear. He could only watch from afar.

a lot of doubts began to settle in his head, obviously. Doubts that kept him awake until late at night, creating insecurities that weren't usually there before.

god, why were you looking at him?

is it his hair? is he more fun? more attractive?

what do you expect him to do?

this began to create a feeling inside him that he didn't like.

the constant fatigue, the emptiness in his stomach, the anxiety that turned into anger.

you were supposed to be looking at him, Jack.

and he wanted to do something about it. He wanted to intervene, interrupt the conversations, talk to you more often. Remind you that he's still there. But a part of him remembers Luke's words, and the conversation he overheard you two having.

is it too late? you were talking about Ethan this whole time?

he felt like an idiot, like a loser, and that's something he's never been used to. He always fights for what he wants, to be the best, to achieve everything. But now he feels like he can't do anything anymore, that he arrived too late.

that made him feel bad, angry. Not with you, but with himself, for letting Luke's words get to his head and keep him from being himself and doing what he does best. And i don't mean playing with you, but at least making his intentions clear from the start, so you don't see someone else. So you see him.

and for the first time, he gave up, decided to distance himself. Because god, it was incredibly hard to look at you and not feel the need to hold your hand, kiss you, and do whatever he wanted for so long.

every time he looks at you there's that thought, that doubt, the "what if…?", and he can't stand it.

he needs you and can't have you.

so now he's being a jerk, or at least he knows that's what everyone thinks. Including you, probably. But he prefers it this way, because he'd rather keep you away than continue hurting himself, even if it means losing everything you two had built.

now, everyone's asked. Luke, Quinn, his friends, even his parents. And he knows you're dying to know, but he just lies, shrugs, and looks away. He tries to go back to the usual Jack, but without speaking to you, and it feels so impossible.

but he prefers that to telling the truth, to telling everyone about how he feels like a loser, about how his heart and pride have been hurt by someone who may never have looked at him any differently.

he just can't do it.

it was another of your laughs that brought him out of his head. He didn't even listen to what Quinn was saying, just giving you one last look before leaving, passing by his brother and heading into the kitchen. Maybe eating something would make him feel better, or make the emptiness in his stomach go away.

although he knows it doesn't work that way. But how can he have a good time if he's not around you?

and you, oh you, you saw him immediately when he appeared in the room, feeling nervous, intimidated, and even guilty. Cole's head resting on your shoulder and his friends telling you stories that made you laugh.

you saw his expression, and you knew it was because of you, because you were even more involved in his life than before, and you wanted to run, to hide, because you didn't want him to get mad at you anymore.

and you hate it, you hate how even though you should be angry at him, and hate him for how he's made you feel, your heart still races at the sight of him, and your eyes search for him everywhere he goes. Your feet itch, wanting to walk over to him. Your fingers ache from clenching them in your palms, holding back the urge to hug him.

and it hurts, because you remember everything, because doubts return to your mind, and hope hurts and turns into a constant emptiness in your chest.

you never understood why, why he walked away, why out of nowhere he seems to hate your existence. And you tried to talk to him a thousand times, but he always manages to escape, to ignore you.

god, he can't even look at you.

and it hurts even more because you're still so in love with him, and whatever you did had you crying for nights on end, curled up in your bed while you were on the phone with Luke, asking him why.

whatever you did almost made you distance yourself from your friends because you were so upset. Everyone told you that he was in love with you, and that you'd look beautiful together, only for Jack to do this??

you even cried the night before, and you called Luke, telling him you regretted going, that you couldn't do it.

he convinced you, talked to you for almost two hours about why you should go. But all that went down the drain the second you saw him.

still, Trevor noticed, so he started telling you another story, something about how Dylan fell that morning when they were almost on their way to pick you up. That made you laugh a little, which lightened the mood a bit again.

you're grateful to have them, even with all this, because even when you got angry, they've been there for you, worrying about every detail, apologizing on Jack's behalf, trying to make you feel better, and getting closer to you so you wouldn't feel alone.

what you didn't know, though, is that they had a lot of time to talk all these weeks, trying to come to conclusions about why all this is happening, and they sort of came up with something.

now, they wanted to make a plan, and that wasn't easy, because let's be honest, we're talking about your friends, who with eleven heads don't make one, and who are looking for some… extreme solutions.

they thought about locking you two in a room, cornering Jack and forcing him to confess, intervening in very invasive ways, until they thought about... what seemed like the ideal solution.

pushing Jack to the limit.

now, what do i mean by this? well, they spent a good amount of time thinking about their theory, on how Jack probably feels rejected, or locked into the idea that you don't reciprocate his feelings, so they decided to push him to his limit, to the point where he has to confess to be at peace.

they know it's not the best option, and that besides being immature, it's also dangerous, because they know how their friend gets. But it's either that or wait for years until Jack moves on and is just a grumpy old man, without his girl and angry at all of them.

so Trevor offered to be the main enemy, because he knows he can do it, although the others also gonna collaborate, like Cole, who hasn't left your side since you entered that house, or Quinn, who will be in charge of bothering Jack every time he notices his gaze on you.

still, they have to be careful, because the idea is that you don't get suspicious, because they know that you will feel upset and embarrassed, and all the effort to make you not sad will go down the drain.

and so they spend the next few days, looking for every opportunity to be a little more affectionate, more attentive, more touchy. And you don't think anything of it at first, not too much anyway, because you think they're just trying to take care of you, since they do that every time Jack's around. But as time goes on… it starts to feel strange, a little overwhelming. Especially Trevor, who's already flirty, but now he's flirting a lot more often.

and oh Jack, he knows you're there, and he tries not to look at you, but when he hears Trevor call you, he can't help but stare, and his jaw clenches when he hears him call you pretty, or when he uses the stupid lines he's heard him use with other girls in bars in the past. And he sees the way you look at him in confusion, like you don't understand why he's flirting with you, or why he's suddenly acting like this and that makes him mad.

but he's also confused, and it gets worse with each passing day.

weren't you with Ethan? why doesn't Ethan seem affected by the way they talk to you and touch you?

what's going on?

and even though he doesn't understand, he feels furious, jealous, because he would love to be the one who makes you laugh and blush, or the one who hugs you, the one who accompanies you everywhere.

but he can't do it, so he has to hold back his urges, becoming grumpier and grumpier with each passing second. And at first, you could tell by how incredibly competitive he became with basic games, even aggressive just to win, so you could see he's better. But now? Oh, he feels like he can't even move without walking up to one of his best friends and punching them in the face.

he wants to grab you by the waist and get out of there, or kiss you, or just show them that he'd be better for you, and this spiral of thoughts is driving him crazy.

he can't even see normal conversations as normal anymore. He's obsessive, and he feels like they're flirting with you all the time.

and you? you feel more and more overwhelmed, and you don't understand what's happening, and for some reason, everyone seems to be on edge, tense, searching for something. And it seems like any minute Trevor and Jack will jump at each other's throats, or start barking at each other about something you don't know.

and it's a particular day when everything explodes, when everything seems to reach its climax.

you'd been scrolling through tiktoks all day until you came across a trend. It was innocent, funny, and you wanted to see how your friends would react to it, so you decided to try it.

you looked around until you found your first victim, Trevor.

"hey, Trev", he looked at you, smiling immediately and walking up to you. At the same time, another pair of eyes began to observe.

"yeah?"

"would you lend me 20 bucks?" you asked, smiling and blinking, trying to look innocent, even though you wanted to laugh, knowing your friend would question you and you wouldn't be able to hold back.

"of course," he answered immediately, which surprised you a little. He was still smiling.

"and 50?"

“whatever you ask of me.” for a moment you saw him glance behind you, but you were more focused on trying to think about what he was saying, trying to figure out if he was serious.

“wait, really?”

“sure, anything for you,” he said, which made you smile, satisfied with the answer.

it was then that you heard the backyard door slam shut, making you jump. The smile on Trevor's face grew even wider, and you began to wonder.

"what was that?" you asked, this time with a serious expression on your face.

however, you didn't stop to hear his answer and decided to follow your instincts, walking to the door and going outside.

Jack was sitting outside, staring at his hands, which were shaking a little.

he heard you and saw you out of the corner of his eye, so he decided to get up, ready to go back inside and not be in the same place as you.

that hurt you, but you weren't going to let him leave, not again, so you stood in front of the door.

he stood in front of you, staring at the floor and sighing heavily.

"please…"

“Jack, do you have a problem with me?” you asked directly, accidentally interrupting him.

the question made his stomach hurt, and you couldn't deny it, you felt like throwing up.

“should i?” he replied, trying to sound defensive, though failing miserably.

“you don't talk to me anymore, and i don't even know what i did.” You said, in a tone that showed exasperation, discontent. You need answers, and it's time for him to give them to you.

he sensed it, so he looked up. The impact was on both of you, because now all he wants to do is kneel and beg for your forgiveness, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest and his hands shaking unstoppably.

he'd never felt so out of control over his body and emotions, but just looking at you was enough to shatter his world and the mask he'd created for his broken heart.

and you? you felt like you could cry again. You'd missed seeing him so close, his voice toward you. God, you'd barely heard his voice these past few days, and you missed him so much.

“you didn't do anything” his voice was so soft and low that you were grateful to be close enough to hear him.

"bullshit, there has to be something" you said, a little more desperate "There has to be a reason for you to hate me." He shook his head, shocked and almost offended.

“i don't hate you, i've never hated you.”

“so what is it, Jack?” you asked, desperate "please... just tell me"

"i thought we were going to have something, and when i heard you talking to Luke… i thought you were talking about me" you tried to remember, but he kept talking "but i was wrong, and then you and Ethan…" he laughed without grace, looking back at the floor "i felt like an idiot”

“wait, Ethan? what are you talking about?” you were more than confused at the mention of your friend.

“you two started getting too close, you weren't even talking to me and..." you finally understood what he meant, and you had to clarify it now, so you interrupted him.

"no, Jack, this is where i stop you. I never had anything with him. I did spend more time with him, but it's because he had to get home before everyone else, so i wanted to take advantage of the time i had with my friend" You sighed, frustrated to know that this is part of why "i never, ever noticed you were feeling this way, and i´m really sorry"

there were a couple of seconds of silence, where you gave him space to process the information and think of a response. However, during the silence, you needed to let go of what you'd been holding in for so long.

"you need to know… that i was talking to Luke about you," you confessed, to which he quickly looked at you, eyes wide, his heart about to explode. "I've liked you for a while now, but i couldn't get too close because you pushed me away."

and oh, he feels like an idiot.

he looks at you carefully, trying to see if you're being honest, and your eyes confirm it.

"i'm sorry, i'm really sorry. I´m so stupid." He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. You wanted to tell him so many things, confess so many things, but you didn't know where to start. And he feels horrible, and wants so much to go back in time and make things right.

all the things you imagined experiencing together. All the times he wanted to kiss you, or you wanted to kiss him, sit on his lap and enjoy being his.

and you couldn't stand it anymore. You needed to do something, and all you could come up with was a quick, needy response.

"i'm assuming you feel the same," you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling nervous. You were going to say something impulsive, but you need to do it, you need to ask him for what you've been wanting for so long "So why don't you kiss me? we can figure this out later."

and you didn't need to tell him twice because he immediately joined his mouth on yours in a desperate, intense kiss. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to his body, while your arms wrapped around his neck.

there's still things to talk about, including the scene your friends made these past few days. But now? right now, Jack just wants to kiss you until it hurts, until you beg for some distance.

because he can't believe you're his. And now that you are, he won't let you go, he won't. He gave up once, he won't do it again.

[taelortot]

The Sun and the Moon

College student!Megumi Fushiguro x y/n

Blurb Zero One 1.5 Two Masterlist

Y/n has always been blunt. Of course she’s never meant it in a bad way.. no one ever means to be blunt in a bad way. Her intentions have never been to hurt anyone’s feelings. God— that’s the last thing she would ever want to do.

“And then I told her she was—“

“Hey pretty thing” a white haired man completely cut his way into the conversation y/n was having with her best friend. His voice is loud enough to hear over the music, strong but almost a little over confident.

“I was speaking” she would state with a smile on her face that didn’t match her tone or the words that came from her lips. Her eyes barely even looking towards the man who interrupted her conversation.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I just had to tell you that you are without a doubt the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” it was the truth, the man called Satoru Gojo never lies.

Now, that caught y/ns attention.

“Thank you” she says in a soft, delicate voice. A voice that’s much different than the one she was using two seconds ago. If there was something y/n loved, it would be a compliment from a handsome man.

Y/n allowed him to buy her a few drinks, because that’s what she does best— letting men buy her drinks so she doesn’t get drunk on her own dime. The guy was a little annoying, and that’s saying a lot since she herself, is the most annoying person she knows. Like staring at a bright Christmas tree with an astigmatism-- assaulting her eyes. Too fucking bright and charismatic.

Words just kept coming and coming from his mouth, and y/n wasn’t someone to hide her discomfort. Persistent is a word you could use to describe the man she’s speaking to. No matter how many time she tried to move away from him, cut him off, or rolling her eyes at something he said.. he just kept talking. Cocky in a not appealing way.

sure, he was handsome, and y/n could see how the way he spoke could be attractive to most girls (like the ones who were staring at him right now) Y/n just wasn't into it and felt stuck here, nursing on a shitty cocktail, feeling envious of her friend who has also found a man to occupy her time with.

Until she saw her perfect exit. There he was. Walking directly towards her.

Tall.

Handsome.

Almost angry looking.

Fucking hot.

Wearing all black, hair just as dark as his clothes, walking with confidence.

Him.

He was her exit.

“Oh there you are! Thank god. This man has been bothering me all night—sorry Goji. This is my boyfriend” y/n nearly lunged at the ebony haired man. Her arms instantly wrap around his waist as if she’s done it thousands of times before.

He doesn’t look confused when she does this, he doesn’t even react. Standing tall, not even wavering when she attaches to his person like a leach.

“Uh- it’s Gojo.. not Goji. And— you’re not Megumis girlfriend. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. Much less not one as hot as you”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

They know each other.

Oh that’s probably why he was walking towards her. Because he wasn’t walking towards her. He was walking towards Gojo— his friend.

“Yes she is”

A lie. A lie from a man she doesn’t even know.

Y/n looked up at the man she was attached to. His voice was something she had never heard before. So calming, so very strong and deep. It’s low but comes in rumbles that vibrate through his chest. Penetrating the air, she could smell his breath from where she was, even though his words weren't pointed at her. Icy mint and a hint of a cigarette he half smoked.

His lanky arm slung across y/ns shoulder, pulling her tighter into his side, confirming this silly lie y/n started. The height difference becomes so noticeable once y/n is flush against him, he’s so tall. Y/n looks so small and delicate next to his tall stature.

“No fucking way. You don’t have-"

Y/n tuned out right now. Not because she wanted to, but only because she saw the pretty silver rings that adorned this man’s hand. The hand that was brushing through her hair that laid on her almost bare shoulder.

“Wow I love your rings” her voice bubbly and full of life, a voice Megumi fell in love with the second he first heard her speak. Y/n grabbed his hand, holding the large one in her smaller hand, playing with and admiring his rings.

A small affirming grunt came from the dark haired man, allowing her to study his hand.. praying she couldn’t feel him shaking and sweating.

She could.

But y/n only thought it was her who was shaking.

“Can we get out of here..” y/n wanted to say his name, but she couldn’t remember what his friend had called him earlier but quickly recovered “-babe”

“Course pretty girl” Megumi nodded, pulling his new fake girlfriend away from his older friend. Y/n wasn’t able to see the cocky smirk on megumis lips as he glanced at his friend from over his shoulder. And god was it a pretty smirk he had, finding joy in the baffling look plastered all over Satoru Gojos face.

Both of them walking hand in hand, out of the bar and down an almost empty street, not saying a word about what just happened.

“I’m y/n”

“Megumi”

“I’ll call you gumi”

“Don’t”

“Mmm you can tell me not to, but I will.”

Bitchy.. he likes it.

They didn’t say much, actually nothing at all after that as y/n walked down the street back towards the college campus. Her mother taught her never to get into a random man’s car, to never let a man follow you home, and don’t take drinks from people you don’t know. But here she was, fully guiding a man she just met back to where she lived. And holding his hand too at that!

“You go to school here too?” Y/n broke the silence that consumed them on their ten minute walk. Pointing towards the college campus as she waited for an answer.

He nodded, eyes boring into hers all while taking in everything about her. The way she walks, the way she spoke, the way she carries herself.

Megumi had seen her before. Many times before actually. Fuck, they shared a class together. Although it made sense she hadn't noticed him before.

From what Megumi could tell, Y/n had lots of friends. A plethora of them. Too many. She was always with someone or talking the loudest in a group of people. He could tell she was liked by many. It could be due to the fact that y/n considered everyone her friend, a social butterfly that could talk to anyone and everyone. Even those who she didn't have much in common with, finding some sort of mutual ground to befriend them.

Or it could be due to the fact that everyone wanted to be her, look like her, or bang her.

"See, I thought you were familiar. We have film study together, right? you sit in the back on your phone all the time" Oh, so she has seen him before.

"yup"

"Not much of a talker?"

"no"

"Thats okay! I can talk for the both of us"

“You don’t have to”

Ouch, that kinda hurt. But y/n understood when she needed to shut up. Even though her little brain worked in overdrive, filling her head with constant chatter and elevator music.

Again, they fell back into silence, walking side by side. Y/n wasn’t sure if he was walking at her pace on purpose, or if they happened to walk at the same speed. But what she did know was that Megumi wasnt letting go of her hand.

“You’re not cold?” Now it was Megumi's turn to fill the silence. Megumi was genuinely asking, the girl who held his hand was wearing a short skirt, heels, and a small sparkly top. It’s a cold windy winter night, she had to be freezing.

“The alcohol keeps me warm. And if you tell your body not to be cold, it won’t be!” She tells him, fully believing in her theory. “Mind over matter.. or whatever they say. Is that even what that means? Or maybe that matter over mind? Which one do you think it is?”

“I don’t understand what you are asking”

“Me neither” she giggles as Megumi opens the metal gate to let them on campus.

Oh that giggle. Megumi wishes he could record it and have it on loop in his headphones. Maybe engrave it into his fucking brain. No no that's a little crazy.. or maybe not when that’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

"I have a question"

"whats up?"

"you are in the jujutsu sorceror program right?"

"you sure know a lot about me for someone I’ve never spoken to"

"yes or no?" Y/n needed answers and wasn’t one to beat around the bush when it comes to getting said answers.

"I am. why do you ask"

"just wondering. i mean i already knew you were because i saw you and that pink haired one walking into the building for it, but i just wanted to hear you say that you were"

"why?"

"mmm i dunno? It’s cool that you are. Do you have any cool powers or something?" Now that made Megumi laugh. Not a small chuckle or a pitty laugh. An actual laugh, one that was thick and full of amusment.

"i guess you could call them powers"

"can i see?" Y/n begged in a little whiny voice that echoed off the buildings they passed by.

Oh for fucks sake.

How could he say no to this little pouty face? Y/ns lips glossed up, bottom lip jutting out in the cutest little way, eyes so full of hope. That tiny whiny voice that he knows would sound even prettier if he were shoving her face into his mattress.

"sure"

Most would assume that a boy and a girl going into a boys dorm room would be scandalus. That they would be commiting an act of sin, especially with the way y/n was giggling and skipping down the hallway holding Megumis hand.

"This one is Kuro and this one is Shiro"

"oh my goodness" y/n squealed, dropping to her knees and immediately petting both pups. Allowing them to lick her face and sniff her out.

"they are so sweet, gumi"

"Normally they aren't sweet, right buddy?" Megumi squats down and ruffles Shiros head.

"nooo. daddys lying right, baby? you would never be mean to anyone" y/n cupped shiros face and suzzled her nose to his, before tracing the red markings on his fur.

“You’d have a very different opinion if you saw my boys in action”

"Can I take them to my dorm to snuggle tonoght?" y/n asked in her sweetest most convicning voice, ignoring what the lanky man to her right just said. A voice that literally has Megumi groaning, his body fighting every instinct to just give in to this girl he just met.

"please gumi?" And here comes the pout. That fucking pout that Megumi now knows will be the death of him. Half ignoring the slight discomfort in his jeans, he came up with a better solution.

"How about you stay here tonight? I don’t really want them way from me, since I don’t know what they might do if they are provoked and I can’t control them."

"Yes yes yes! I have to go get my jammies!" y/n sprung up quickly, which just made both pups jump up as well, tails wagging anf tongues panting in excitment.

Hook line and sinker.. or something like that? For someone who’s never been good at getting chicks in his bed, Megumi was doing a stand up job. He knew once he showed her his little bunny rabbits, she’d be begging for more.

It wasn’t y/ns intention for a boy to see her bedroom tonight. Especially not when it’s a complete mess from her getting ready earlier. Not that y/n is the cleanest person in the whole world, it normally wasn’t this bad. Clean and dirty clothes scattered about, heels thrown haphazardly everywhere the eye could see. And her makeup, it was all over her vanity and her bed. Foundation bottle tipped over, leaving a now semi dried puddle on the wooden surface.

"Sorry about the mess" y/n kicked clothes out of the way so they could actually walk in without stepping on discared dresses and panties.

Megumi couldnt help but look around and be a little nosey

"you have lots of.. things"

"i know right?!" y/n giggled without looking back, quickly digging through her closet to find something appropriate to wear for bed in a males dorm (which is absolutely nothing she own.)

"should I wear blue or white?" y/n turned back with two different night dress options. Megumi tore his eyes away from the shelf full of knick knacks to see what the bubbly girl was holding.

"white" Megumi said without hesitation.

"i was thinking white too" y/n nodded, thinking her and Megumi shared the same reason for choosing the white night gown. When that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Lets look at these reasonings, yeah?

Y/ns reason: white is pretty and she will match Shiro.

Megumi reason: Y/n would look hot as fuck in white, so innocent and pure. AND, he will most likley be able to see her tits through the thin material.

Yeah... Megumi doesn’t have any sort of innocent thoughts around this girl.

And that’s probably how we got here.

After about 20 minutes of y/n lounging around Megumis bed (which Megumi stood awkwardly in the corner watching her) and playing with Kiro and Shiro, Megumi took a leap of faith.

And fuck he has never made a better decision in his life. Even though it started out a little clumsy, with lots of giggles and sloppy kisses.

"youre mine now, yeah baby?"

"yes yes yes" y/n cried out, nails scratching down Megumis pale back, leaving red marks that would be there for days.

The sound of skin slapping and heavy pants filled the small room. The wooden bed frame pounding against the thin wall was surly something the whole building could hear, and definitely something his neighbor and friend Yuji would bring up tomorrow.

"I fucking mean it y/n" Megumi growled, fingers digging into y/ns cheeks, forcing her lips to part slightly. The warm metal of his rings pressing into her soft skin, dark eyes staring into hers, telling her what she already knows.

"you"

Thrust

"are"

Thrust

"mine"

"Yours. Yours. Yours.” Y/n didn’t care that her throat was dry and on fire as she moaned into I guess her now now boyfriends mouth. Simply sucking out her tongue and opening her mouth further.

A sick smirk pulled on Megumis lips once he realized what she was doing. Letting a small line of spit slowly drip off his tongue down to hers, coating her mouth with all that is him. And god did he taste good.

"only mine baby"

"only yours gumi"

Thank you for reading!

Please tell me what you think!

Taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @koreluvsspring @emlient @ersharyzst @gradmacoco @namjooningera

[slimeypaws]

talk nerdy to me.

pairing — athlete! charlie slimecicle x nerd! reader

summary — after falling behind in class, charlie reaches out to a past group partner for help.

tags — college au; tension, unreasonably rude reader, uhm.. i’m not sure what else.

you’d never really thought about charlie dalgleish.

well — that wasn’t exactly true. you thought about him in the same way you thought about any other frat boy who wandered around campus in school issued athletic gear, always surrounded by his pack of equally loud, equally obnoxious friends. you thought about him in the same way you thought about any guy who coasted through college on athletic scholarships and social capital.

which is to say: you thought he was an idiot.

it was a little mean, sure. a little unfair. you didn’t know him. not really.

but you knew of him.

knew he was a basketball player — a pretty good one, from what you heard. knew he ran around with guys like schlatt and ted, which immediately tanked any good impression you might’ve had of him. knew he showed up to class just often enough to keep his grades passable and his eligibility intact.

you didn’t have any actual proof that he was a dick. but he never really did anything to disprove it, either.

he barely talked to you when you ended up in a group project together last semester. not that you cared — you hated group projects anyway, and you were more than happy to take the lead and get it done without much input. but it was hard not to notice the way charlie never seemed to have much to say to you specifically.

he was fine enough with everyone else. joked around, made the group laugh, pulled his weight (barely) when it came down to it. but you?

you got a grand total of four words out of him and a few hums of agreement the entire project.

“yeah, sure,” when you asked if he could print out the report.

“thanks, man,” when you handed him a copy.

and “uh huh,” when you asked if he was good with your part of the presentation.

that was it.

you didn’t think too hard about it at the time. you just wrote him off as another one of those guys who only paid attention to people they found useful or interesting. and since you were neither — well.

it wasn’t like you were hoping for a friendship or anything.

but it still left a weird taste in your mouth.

so yeah. you didn’t really think about charlie dalgleish. and if you did, it was never anything positive.

which was why you were so thrown when he approached you after class one day, about a month into the semester.

you were stuffing your notebook into your bag, already mentally calculating how much time you had before your next lecture, when you heard his voice.

“hey — uhm, can i ask you something?”

you barely registered it at first. you’d never had a conversation with charlie outside of that group project, and you weren’t expecting one now.

so when you glanced up and saw him standing there — shifting his weight, looking a little awkward, very much addressing you — you actually did a little double take.

“…me?”

“yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “uhm, you got a second?”

you blinked. looked around, like maybe he was talking to someone behind you.

nope.

“…sure,” you said slowly. “what’s up?”

charlie let out a short breath, like he was trying to psych himself up.

“okay, uhm — this is gonna sound kinda weird, but — you’re good at calc, right?”

your eyebrows lifted. “i mean.. yeah?”

he let out a humorless laugh, already looking embarrassed. “cool. uh, do you… think you could, like.. help me out with it?”

you stared at him.

“…help you.”

“yeah. like, tutoring? or — i dunno, just. explaining shit to me. ‘cause i am struggling, dude.”

your brain short circuited.

charlie dalgleish was asking you to tutor him. like you weren’t the same person he barely acknowledged during a whole month long group project. like you hadn’t already decided he was an airheaded frat bro with the depth of a puddle. like this wasn’t the most absurd thing that could’ve possibly happened today.

“you —” you blinked hard. “why me?”

charlie winced. “i mean, you’re.. smart. and i’ve seen you in class and you always get it, and i thought — i dunno, maybe you could help me not bomb this semester?”

you folded your arms across your chest, already feeling defensive. “don’t you have, like, team tutors or something?”

“yeah, but they kinda suck,” he admitted sheepishly. “and, like — no offense, but they’re kinda used to working with guys who are already dumb as rocks, so they just.. oversimplify everything. and i’m not — like, i get it sometimes, i just need someone who can actually, like, break it down when i don’t, y’know?”

your nose wrinkled. “i don’t know why you think i’m that person.”

charlie laughed — a little strained, but still a laugh. “c’mon, man. you’re, like, stupid good at this shit. i remember from our project last semester — you made all those graphs and formulas look like nothing. you’re, like, a genius or whatever.”

you tried not to bristle at the ‘or whatever.’

“and i get it if you’re busy, or you just don’t wanna,” he added quickly. “like, no pressure. i just thought i’d ask.”

you stared at him for a beat too long.

on one hand — what the fuck. where was this coming from? why was he suddenly acting like you were the second coming of einstein after ignoring you for an entire month last semester?

on the other hand — you did need the money.

and if he was serious, he’d probably be willing to pay. then, you could probably put up with him for a few hours a week.

“…you paying?” you asked, carefully neutral.

charlie blinked, like that caught him off guard. “uh — yeah? i mean, if you want?”

“how much?”

“i —” he floundered. “i dunno. what do tutors usually charge?”

you shrugged. “twenty an hour.”

charlie whistled lowly. “shit, okay. yeah. that’s — yeah, i can do that.”

you raised a brow. “you sure?”

“yeah. dude, if it means i don’t fail, i’ll pay you whatever you want.”

you chewed your lip. everything in you still screamed don’t get involved with him. but twenty bucks an hour was hard to say no to.

“…alright,” you said finally. “i’m free wednesdays and fridays. library, five o’clock. don’t be late.”

charlie’s face lit up like you’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. “oh, fuck yeah, oh my god, thank you. i owe you my life.”

“you owe me twenty an hour,” you deadpanned.

he laughed — a real laugh, this time — and goddammit, it was a nice sound. warm and genuine and nothing like the shallow impression you’d built of him in your head.

you tamped down the feeling immediately.

“right. yeah. twenty an hour. got it.”

“cool. see you friday.”

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could do something stupid, like think about the way his smile made your chest feel weird.

you didn’t expect charlie to show up on time.

in fact, you half expected him to forget entirely.

but when you got to the library that friday, five minutes early just to be safe, he was already there — sitting at a corner table, calc textbook cracked open in front of him.

you stopped short.

he didn’t notice you at first, too focused on scribbling something in his notebook. when he did glance up, his face lit up with a smile so bright it almost knocked you off balance.

“hey!” he said, like you were old friends.

you forced a thin smile. “hey.”

dropping your bag on the table, you took the seat across from him, already dreading whatever this session was about to be.

“so,” you said, pulling out your own notebook. “what are you stuck on?”

charlie blew out a breath and flipped through his textbook like he was fanning a fire.

“uh, pretty much all of this,” he muttered. “but mostly the derivatives stuff.”

your eyes flicked to the section he was pointing at. basic differentiation rules.

this was, like, week two material.

“...you’re still on this?” you asked, before you could think better of it.

charlie winced. “yeah, i know,” he said sheepishly. “i’ve been — y’know. busy.”

you hummed noncommittally. you knew what busy meant. extra gym time. late night parties. too many post practice hangouts with schlatt and his crowd.

you didn’t say it, but you knew he could tell you were thinking it.

“i’m not —” charlie started, then shook his head. “whatever. just — can we start here?”

you weren’t going to argue. twenty bucks an hour was twenty bucks an hour.

“fine,” you said. “let’s see what you’ve got so far.”

to your surprise, charlie actually had been trying. his notebook was a mess of crossed out problems and half solved equations, but there was effort there — little margin notes in his awful handwriting, arrows pointing to mistakes he’d caught on his own.

he just wasn’t getting it.

and to his credit, once you started walking him through the steps, he listened.

like — really listened.

his brows furrowed in concentration, jaw clenched tight, pencil scratching fast as he copied down your explanations. he asked questions — good ones. not just the obligatory ones people asked to sound engaged. he paid attention too. repeated things back to you to make sure he was understanding it. when you gave him practice problems, he chewed on his pen cap, visibly concentrating, and when he got one wrong, he didn’t get frustrated — just scratched his head and asked where he screwed up.

it wasn’t what you expected.

and honestly? it was a little annoying.

because part of you had already written him off as some dumb jock who wouldn’t take this seriously — who’d laugh off his confusion, crack some joke, and waste your time.

instead, he was focused. determined. more than willing to sit quietly and figure this shit out.

it was weird.

“so, wait,” charlie said, interrupting your train of thought. “if you’re doing chain rule, but there’s, like, three layers, does that mean you…?”

he trailed off, scribbling something down — then flipped his notebook around to show you.

“yeah,” you said reluctantly. “that’s right.”

“hell yeah,” charlie grinned, pleased with himself. “you’re a goddamn magician, man.”

you snorted. “i just know how to read a textbook.”

“yeah, well, my textbook’s written in ancient sumerian or some shit, so.”

despite yourself, you laughed.

you regretted it immediately.

because charlie’s smile got wider — like that reaction actually meant something — and that weird feeling from before started creeping back in.

you shifted in your seat, suddenly eager to change the subject.

“anyway,” you said brusquely. “if you actually wanna pass calc, you’ve gotta stay on top of this stuff.”

“i am on top of it,” charlie shot back, a little defensive. “why d’you think i asked you to help?”

“yeah, after letting yourself fall weeks behind.”

charlie’s brow twitched. “yeah, well. sorry i don’t have time to memorize a textbook between practices.”

you scoffed. “right. practice.”

charlie’s eyes narrowed.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,�� you said, tone flat.

“no, no,” he said, crossing his arms. “go ahead.”

you sighed heavily, dragging a hand down your face. “it’s just — whatever, man. it’s your grade.”

“yeah,” charlie said tightly. “it is.”

the tension sat thick between you for a moment, and you braced yourself for him to call it quits — to pack up his stuff and walk out.

but instead, charlie exhaled hard through his nose.

“alright,” he muttered, flipping his notebook back open. “can we just — keep going?”

you blinked.

“…yeah,” you said finally. “sure.”

the rest of the session was… slow.

not because charlie wasn’t trying. if anything, he was trying too hard.

he hung onto every word you said, asked clarifying questions, double checked his answers with you — but the material just wasn’t clicking fast enough.

and you were so close to losing your patience.

“no,” you said flatly, stopping him as he went to box his answer. “that’s wrong.”

charlie blinked. “what? how?”

you snatched his notebook and jabbed your finger at his work.

“you forgot to apply the chain rule here, again. you literally just did this same problem right two minutes ago. how did you already forget?”

charlie’s mouth opened — then shut. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“…right,” he muttered, reaching for his pencil. “my bad.”

you watched him rewrite the equation, a tight coil of irritation winding in your chest.

how was he still not getting it? it wasn’t that hard. this was calc i. he was making it harder than it needed to be.

“jesus,” you muttered, scrubbing a hand down your face. “how are you even passing the class right now?”

charlie let out a weak, humorless chuckle. “i’m… not,” he admitted. “hence —” he gestured vaguely to the notebook. “this.”

you snorted. “well, you’re sure as hell not gonna pass if you keep forgetting basic differentiation rules.”

charlie didn’t flinch. didn’t snap back or bristle at your tone — he just nodded, like he agreed with you.

“yeah,” he said quietly. “right.”

for some reason, that annoyed you even more.

“okay, whatever,” you huffed, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. “i’m gonna walk you through it again, and you’re gonna actually retain it this time.”

charlie cracked a faint, sheepish smile. “gotcha, coach.”

you ignored the weird heat that flared in your face.

by the time the session dragged into its second hour, your nerves were frayed. you were tired, charlie still wasn’t catching on as fast as you wanted him to, and his unflappable patience was grating on you.

like — why wasn’t he getting annoyed? why wasn’t he cracking a dumb joke or checking his phone or making any of the careless, half assed mistakes you’d expected him to?

instead, he just kept his head down, knuckles white around his pencil as he slogged through problem after problem, brow furrowed in deep concentration.

and the weirdest fucking part?

he still thanked you when you were done.

“seriously,” he said as you shoved your stuff into your bag. “i know i’m kinda… y’know. behind. but this actually helped.”

“great,” you said dryly. “glad i could dumb it down enough for you.”

charlie just laughed. like you weren’t being a dick on purpose.

“see you wednesday?” he asked.

“…yeah,” you muttered.

and you hated that you didn’t hate the idea as much as you thought you would.

© slimeypaws

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 46. Coffee Talk

Summary: Just some cute Dahlia and Garrick post RSC Land Nav. A/N: Another bonus post because you guys are ridiculous with the follows this year. Enjoy! Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links |

I shiver as something ghosts over my shoulder, rousing me from my sleep. I go to roll over to see what’s the cause of it, but my answer is given to me when a large arm drapes itself over my hip, pulling me back against a warm and hard chest.

I relax in their arms as the familiar scent of Garrick washes over me. “Maybe I need to get kidnapped more often.” I joke, Garrick’s arm tightening on me as he holds me against him.

”I’d rather you didn’t.” He grumbles against my shoulder before pressing another kiss to my bare shoulder. “Had me in a fucking panic till I realised you’re squad and Bodhi were all gone. Fucking RSC.”

I roll in his arms, finally getting a look at Garrick whose eyes soften as they meet mine. I note the slight shadows under his eyes, he looks exhausted. Though wouldn’t surprise me if he’d gotten very little sleep. It had only been a few weeks, but it hadn’t taken me long to notice how quickly and soundly Garrick slept when I was around. Especially when he’d just started staying in my room or taking me to his every night. Anytime I'd tried to kick him out or leave he'd practically manhandled me back to bed.

”I was fine. We got out mostly unscathed.” I tell him with a shrug, which has him narrowing his eyes at me.

”You nearly didn’t though. Want to explain that one?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, his body tensing up.

Shit. Of course he would have heard about that somehow. He probably ran into Bodhi or Imogen last night before coming to my room.

”I had it under control.” I explain.

”Then why did Proth and Cath have to burn that infantry cadet if you had it under control?” Garrick’s eyes narrowing at me as he questions me.

”Because sometimes violence isn’t always the answer. Didn’t exactly want my head on a silver platter because I killed an infantry cadet.” I tell him as I lower my eyes to his chest, raising my fingers to trace over the relic on his arm.

Garrick’s body relaxes under my touch, feeling the anger leave him as he raises his hand to cup my cheek. “He wasn’t just some infantry cadet though. Was he?”

My body goes rigid, something I know Garrick notices as I look up at him, seeing the questioning look in Garrick’s eyes. “How much did he tell you?”

It’s already clear it’s Bodhi he’s talked to based off his comment. Imogen hadn’t been close enough to hear most of the conversation, only coming in at the end to comment about not needing me to be like Dain.

”Just mentioned there was more to the incident and I should ask you.” He admits as his eyes search mine. At least Bodhi had kept his word in regards to letting me tell Garrick the story.

I nod slowly at him before pushing my self upright, leaning back against the headboard as Garrick moves to sit in front of me, giving me his full attention as I wrap my arms around my legs as I hold them to my chest. Garrick doesn’t blink an eye as I tell him the same story I told Bodhi, just sitting and listening as I get it all out. But I can feel the anger practically rolling off him in waves. I know how much he's holding back as his hands ball into fists. Telling Bodhi was somehow easier than telling Garrick. Bodhi had be a constant friend by my side all year. He'd seen right through any wall I'd put up. It was like Bodhi already knew me better than I knew myself. But opening myself up to Garrick was mildly terrifying. As if sensing my nerves he reaches out and clasps my hand in his as I finish my story.

”So you’ve been shunned since then, for something you didn’t even do? Your own father and brother?” Garrick asks me after a few moments of silence.

I give him a tight lipped smile and nod. “It took me years to realise no matter what I did to show I was sorry, to show that I would do anything to take back accepting that dare, that he would never accept me as his daughter again. Not even my own grandfather could convince him. And once he was taken care of, I had no one.”

”What do you mean taken care of?” Garrick asks, sitting up fully as if what I’ve said has peaked his interest.

”All I know is my father sent him and his squad out to an outpost. One nowhere near enemy activity that suddenly got over run. No survivors except for one dragon. Everyone else gone. They say it was Gryphon fliers, but…” I furrow my brow. What did I think happened? It was clear it wasn’t Gryphon’s. But we had no other enemies. No other kingdoms that could have travelled that far and caused that much damage for us to not be on high alert. And the only ones that could were fairy tales. Not real.

”But what?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Something just doesn’t add up. Everytime I ask I get yelled at for meddling where it’s not needed. And Proth is vague on the details when I ask him.”

“What do you mean Proth won’t tell you?” Garrick probes as his hand tightens on mine.

”Proth was there.” I tell him. “Proth was the dragon that survied. My grandfathers dragon.”

For a split second I swear I see Garrick’s eyes widen before he catches himself. Almost as if the news of who my dragon belonged to interested him. He was probably just shocked to learn Proth had been part of my life long before I came here and bonded him. It was extremely rare for dragons to know their riders prior. Even rarer for them to bond within the same family. Something that seemed to concern leadership whenever the detail came up.

”Seems he’s your guardian angel.” Garrick jokes, slipping back into his usual joking tone as he pushes off the bed. “Now let’s go get you some food. You’re probably starving after RSC and I’m not being around you if you haven’t had coffee in your system.”

I roll my eyes at him before taking the hand he offers me as he pulls me from my bed. He wasn’t wrong. We’d had limited food while out on land nav, and I was in desperate need of a coffee. Bodhi had taken the brunt of my early morning anger on our second day of land nav when I didn’t have coffee. Imogen had pissed herself laughing when I’d snapped at him over a stupid comment he’d made.

It seems we’re the last to get to the dining hall, most of it starting to empty out already. Being a Sunday most people got in and out quickly to take advantage of a free day if we got it. It just so happened today was one of those days. Bodhi waves us over to a table that has most of our squad minus our first years, plus Imogen and Quinn who seemed to have joined them.

”About time you two joined us.” Imogen notes with a smile and wiggling her eyebrows at me, causing Quinn to snicker at her comment.

”Sorry, someone was worrying about where I’d been for the last two days.” I tell her as Garrick mumbles something behind me as we take our seats with everyone, Garrick pulling me into his side as he rests his arm around me. Possessive asshole.

Bodhi looks between us confused before shaking his head and standing as he grabs his mug and an empty one from the middle of the table. “Right. Anyway I’ll be back. How do you like it Dahlia?”

”Oh you know depends on my mood.” I start, playing along with Imogen’s implied comment even though I know what Bodhi is actually asking. “Sometimes just plain sex is fine, but sometimes you gotta mix it up with some choking or being tied up.”

Bodhi looks between Garrick and I in shock, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. The rest of the table bursts into laughter, Kai nearly spitting his drink across the table, and Imogen looking like I’ve given her the best moment of her life as she smiles at me.

”You’re coffee Dahlia. I was asking about your coffee. I did not need to know what you and Garrick get up to in your room!” He exclaims, sending everyone into a fit of laughter.

”Oh we haven’t got there yet, but now I have some ideas for later. Thanks Durran.” Garrick quips as he reaches across and takes the apple sitting on Bodhi’s plate, smirking up at him before Bodhi walks off to get more coffee.

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