#but now i will think of it and think of your funny guy ...... and my funny centipede thing (from my horror game)

[lizziesangel]

can you do another one shot of introverted reader and extroverted qb Rafe and he just follows her around and still crushes on her and then he like asks her out or something you can make this in your own way

finally part two!! ⟢ part one

as the self-defense unit wraps up, you and lana grab your things and head toward the locker rooms. the air between you is lighter now, the drills and awkward encounters behind you—for the moment, at least. lana nudges you with her shoulder, her mischievous grin already in place.

“did you see what happened to jason in the middle of class?” she asks, barely containing her laughter. “i mean, secondhand embarrassment doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

you stifle a laugh, glancing over at her. “what did he think was going to happen? asking mia out in the middle of the drills? who even does that?”

lana throws her hands up dramatically. “exactly! like, dude, we’re learning how to escape a chokehold, and he’s over here trying to escape the friend zone. bad timing, jason. bad. timing.”

you snort, unable to hold back your amusement. “and then mia’s face? she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.”

“she didn’t even say anything! she just shook her head and walked away!” lana cackles, practically doubling over as she recalls the moment. “poor guy stood there for a solid ten seconds, looking like he’d just been hit by a bus.”

“it was funny,” you admit, “but also kind of sad. like, imagine building up all that courage just to get publicly rejected.”

lana shakes her head, still giggling. “i mean, yeah, i felt bad for him. for, like, half a second. but you have to admit, it was iconic. mia didn’t even blink.”

you laugh, the image replaying in your mind, but then lana’s smirk takes on a different edge. she gives you a sly look, and you immediately know you’re in trouble.

“speaking of moments,” she begins, dragging out the words, “what’s going on with you and rafe cameron?”

your laughter dies in your throat, replaced by a groan. “oh my gosh, lana. nothing is going on.”

“nothing?” she echoes, raising an eyebrow. “girl, he was staring at you like you were the answer to all of life’s questions. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he wasn’t staring. he was just… focused on the drill.”

“focused on you,” she corrects, wagging a finger at you. “i mean, i can’t blame him. you two looked like the cover of some YA romance novel over there, all wrist grabs and lingering eye contact.”

“lana, oh my gosh, stop.” you shove her lightly, your face burning. “it’s not like that.”

“oh, but you wish it was?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

“no!” you insist, laughing despite yourself. “you’re so annoying.”

lana grins triumphantly, but before she can press further, you narrow your eyes and shift the spotlight. “okay, let’s talk about you and topper, then.”

her smug expression falters. “what about me and topper?” she asks, feigning innocence.

you mimic her earlier teasing tone. “oh, nothing. just that you were blushing a lot while you two were partnered up. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

“i was not blushing,” she huffs, but her face betrays her, turning pink at the accusation.

“you so were!” you shoot back, laughing. “and don’t think i didn’t notice how he kept leaning in to talk to you, all ‘are you okay? is my grip too tight?’”

“okay, first of all, he was just being polite,” lana retorts, crossing her arms. “second of all, you��re deflecting.”

“am i, though?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. “because it sounds to me like someone has a little crush.”

lana groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “fine! whatever! he’s cute, okay? but he’s also topper thornton, which means he’s probably, like, ninety percent annoying and ten percent tolerable.”

you smirk. “sounds like someone’s trying to justify their feelings.”

“and it sounds like someone’s avoiding the fact that rafe cameron was basically undressing them with his eyes,” she fires back.

the two of you dissolve into laughter, your playful banter echoing down the hallway. for all the awkwardness of the class, you can’t help but feel grateful for moments like this—light, ridiculous, and completely you.

it’s been a week since the self-defense class, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about rafe cameron since then. not that you’d admit it to lana.

she’d never let you hear the end of it. right now, though, you’re trying to focus on your spanish class, scribbling notes as señor martinez drones on about verb conjugations. lana is sitting to your left, doodling absentmindedly in her notebook, while rafe is on your right, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression that says he’d rather be anywhere else.

you try not to notice how close he’s sitting. or how his cologne lingers faintly in the air. definitely not noticing.

“señor cameron,” señor martinez suddenly says, breaking through the hum of your thoughts. you glance up to see the older man staring pointedly at rafe, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose. “por favor, conteste esta pregunta. ¿cómo se dice, ‘i like to play football’ en español?”

rafe blinks, his posture straightening slightly. you can tell from the way his brow furrows that he has no idea what the answer is. he shifts in his seat, his gaze darting toward you briefly before landing back on the teacher.

“uh…” he starts, clearly stalling. “yo… gusta… uh…”

you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh at his obvious struggle. he looks genuinely panicked now, scratching the back of his neck like it’ll somehow help him come up with the right words.

without thinking, you lean slightly toward him and scribble on the edge of your notebook: me gusta jugar al fútbol.

sliding the notebook closer to him with your left hand, you tap the words lightly with your pen before sitting back, acting like nothing happened. rafe’s eyes dart to the paper, and then to you. he catches on quickly, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile.

“me gusta jugar al fútbol,” he repeats, his pronunciation a little off but passable. he looks up at señor martinez, who nods approvingly.

“muy bien, señor cameron,” the teacher says before moving on to the next victim in his line of questioning.

rafe exhales quietly, and you feel his shoulder brush yours as he leans closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “thanks. i owe you one.”

you shrug, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “you’ll survive.”

“yeah, because of you,” he says, his tone teasing but sincere. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and your cheeks warm involuntarily.

lana, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly clears her throat dramatically. “i see you two are getting along nicely,” she whispers, her voice dripping with mock innocence.

you nudge her under the desk with your foot, shooting her a warning look. “focus, lana.”

“oh, i am,” she replies with a grin, glancing pointedly between you and rafe.

you and lana walk out of spanish class, your bags slung over your shoulders as you weave through the bustling hallway. the faint smell of old textbooks and cleaning supplies lingers in the air, blending with the hum of chatter from other students.

“so,” lana says, adjusting the strap of her bag and glancing at you, “are we pretending that señor martinez’s lecture didn’t put the entire class to sleep?”

you snort. “you mean only you? i saw you zoning out halfway through.”

“hey, i was conserving my energy,” she defends, holding up her hands. “that conjugation nonsense was not giving what it needed to give.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head as the two of you make your way toward your lockers. the conversation shifts to weekend plans, lana animatedly describing some pop-up event she wants to drag you to, when someone passes by on your right.

it’s him.

“hey,” he says, his voice breaking through your conversation like a gentle ripple. he’s walking just slow enough to catch your attention without completely stopping. “thanks for earlier. you saved me with that spanish sentence.”

he flashes you a smile—not the usual cocky smirk you’ve seen him give other people, but something softer, genuine. the kind that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly.

“oh, uh, no problem,” you manage to say, your voice steady despite the warmth creeping up your neck.

he gives a small nod, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just a little more, and then continues walking past you, blending into the crowd.

lana waits until he’s out of earshot before turning to you, her eyebrows raised and her grin positively devious. “okay. what was that?”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he was just saying thank you.”

“mmm, sure,” she says, drawing out the words. “because guys like rafe cameron totally go out of their way to say thank you for help in class.”

“it’s called being polite,” you counter, though your voice wavers slightly, betraying your attempt at indifference.

“polite?” lana mimics, her voice dripping with mockery. “girl, he smiled at you like you just solved all his problems. that was not polite; that was something else.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re ridiculous.”

“am i?” she teases, bumping her shoulder into yours. “or am i just really good at spotting crush vibes when i see them?”

you groan, quickening your pace to escape her relentless teasing, but the fluttery feeling in your chest doesn’t go away.

a few days rolls by, and it’s time for PE again. the memory of last week’s self-defense unit still lingers in your mind, though you’ve done your best to push it aside. unfortunately, lana hasn’t let you live it down.

“back to the battlefield,” she says dramatically as you walk into the gym together, her water bottle swinging in her hand. “do you think coach davis will make us pair up the same way as last time?”

you glance at her, trying to gauge whether she’s genuinely curious or just looking for an opportunity to tease you again. “i don’t know,” you reply, keeping your tone casual. “probably. he seems like a ‘stick to the plan’ kind of guy.”

lana smirks, nudging you lightly. “good news for you, then.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, feigning innocence as you open your water bottle and take a sip.

“oh, nothing,” she replies with a sly grin. “just that a certain quarterback might be looking forward to this more than you think.”

“ooh, look,” lana adds in a whisper, nudging you with her elbow as you make your way toward your spot. “there’s your favorite partner.”

you glance over instinctively and spot rafe standing with the rest of the football team. he’s tossing a basketball between his hands, chatting with topper and a couple of others, looking relaxed and completely at ease.

you try not to linger too long, but as if sensing your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. his lips curve into a small, knowing smile, and you quickly look away, your heart doing an unintentional somersault.

“stop it,” you mutter to lana, who’s practically vibrating with excitement at your reaction.

“i’m not even doing anything,” she says innocently, though the smug look on her face says otherwise.

you roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, coach davis claps his hands together, gathering the class’s attention.

“alright, folks!” he booms. “we’re picking up where we left off last week. same pairs, same drills, new moves.”

lana shoots you a triumphant look, barely able to contain her laugh. “told you.”

“shut up,” you mutter under your breath, your cheeks already warming as you glance toward the corner of the gym. sure enough, there’s rafe, standing with the other football players, tossing a basketball between his hands and looking entirely unbothered by the world around him.

when your name is called, followed by rafe’s, you take a deep breath and start walking toward him, feeling Lana’s smug gaze on your back the entire way.

“guess it’s us again,” he says, stopping in front of you. his tone is casual, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“lucky me,” you reply, trying to sound neutral as you set your water bottle on the floor, though your voice comes out a little more sarcastic than you intended.

he chuckles, his hands resting lightly on his hips. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“ready for round two?” he asks, his tone teasing but warm. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe anticipation—but you don’t dwell on it for long.

“i’m ready if you are,” you reply, trying to match his confidence.

this week’s drills involve more complex moves—blocking, evading, and redirecting. rafe listens to coach davis’s explanation but keeps sneaking glances at you, like he’s more interested in your reaction than the actual instructions. you catch him once, and he quickly looks away, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

when it’s time to practice, rafe takes his position in front of you, his hands raised slightly. “alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

you narrow your eyes playfully. “don’t go easy on me.”

his grin widens. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

the first few attempts are clumsy, just like last week, but this time, there’s an unspoken ease between you. the tension feels lighter, replaced by a strange sort of rhythm. when you stumble on one of the blocks, rafe catches your arm instinctively, steadying you without a second thought.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, brushing it off. “just lost my balance.”

“good thing i’m here, then,” he says, his grin returning. he’s teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

as the drill continues, you notice how his confidence contrasts with the careful way he moves around you, never pushing too hard, always adjusting to your pace. it’s almost… considerate. by the end of the session, you’re both slightly out of breath, your cheeks flushed—not just from the exercise.

rafe is surprisingly focused, following coach’s instructions and helping you figure out the movements without making it awkward—well, mostly. he adjusts his stance a couple of times, his hands hovering near your arms to guide you, but he never oversteps, which you appreciate.

“alright, now try shifting your weight forward,” he says, watching as you attempt to push him off balance.

you give it your best shot, planting your feet and leaning into the motion, but he barely moves, his footing solid.

“okay, not bad,” he says, grinning. “but maybe try using a little more…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word.

“force?” you supply, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, that.” he nods, his grin widening. “don’t be afraid to go for it.”

you try again, this time putting more effort into the movement. to your surprise, he actually stumbles back a step, his expression shifting to mock surprise.

“whoa—okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “you’ve got some hidden strength there.”

you laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “yeah, sure. i’m terrifying.”

“hey, i’m just saying,” he replies, his tone teasing. “remind me not to mess with you.”

lana, paired with topper a few feet away, catches the exchange and immediately starts making faces at you behind rafe’s back. you shoot her a glare, mouthing stop while trying not to laugh.

“what’s so funny?” rafe asks, glancing between you and lana.

“nothing,” you say quickly, straightening up and avoiding his gaze.

laa smirks, her voice carrying just enough for you to hear. “oh, it’s definitely something.”

you groan inwardly, already dreading whatever teasing lana has planned for later. for now, though, you focus on the drill, pretending not to notice the way rafe’s smile lingers just a little

the end of class rolls around, and as everyone starts clearing up and heading toward the locker rooms, rafe lingers near you, casually adjusting the strap of his gym bag. lana notices, of course, and shoots you a knowing look before wandering off toward the door with topper trailing behind her.

you sling your water bottle over your shoulder, about to follow, when rafe steps a little closer. “hey,” he says, his tone casual but with just a hint of hesitation.

“hi,” you reply, glancing up at him curiously.

“so, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping for just a moment. “are you going to the game tonight?”

you blink, caught a little off guard. “the football game?”

“yeah,” he gives a short laugh, as if there’s any other game he could be talking about. “i mean, it’s kind of a big one. with a rival school and all that.”

you chew on your lip, considering. “ah, i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

“oh, come on,” he says, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “i’m playing tonight.”

“i know,” you say with a faint laugh. “you’re the captain.”

there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe something else entirely. “right. so… you’ll come?”

before you can answer, lana reappears, practically materializing out of thin air. “we’ll be there!” she announces brightly, cutting off whatever excuse you were about to come up with.

your head snaps toward her, eyes wide. “we will?”

“yeah,” lana says, completely unbothered by your subtle glare. “wouldn’t miss it.”

rafe’s grin widens, his gaze flickering between you and lana. “great. see you tonight, then.”

just as you’re about to protest—or at least question why lana is suddenly speaking for you—topper walks by, overhearing the last bit of the conversation. he stops, turning to lana with a raised eyebrow.

“you’re going to the game?” he asks, his tone curious but laced with something else, something like amusement.

lana tilts her head at him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “why? you don’t want me there?”

topper stares at her for a second, then shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. “no, i didn’t say that.”

“good,” lana replies breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “because we’ll be there.”

topper blinks, momentarily at a loss for words, before recovering with a lopsided grin. “cool. yeah. that’s… cool.”

you glance between them, unsure whether to roll your eyes or laugh. meanwhile, rafe is still standing next to you, watching the whole exchange unfold with an amused look on his face.

“see you tonight,” rafe says again, this time directing it more toward you. his voice is quieter, as if it’s just for you, and there’s something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

“yeah,” you manage, your voice a little softer than you intended. “see you.”

rafe’s grin widens, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes your chest tighten. “great. see you then.”

as he walks away with topper, lana nudges you with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“you’re welcome,” she says, grinning.

“oh my gosh, did you see the way he was looking at you? you’re so going to that game.”

“lana,” you groan, but she’s already steering you toward the door, topper trailing behind like a lost puppy.

“oh, and topper?” lana calls over her shoulder. “you’d better actually play well tonight if i’m showing up.”

topper laughs, running a hand through his hair. “don’t worry, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“you’re welcome, by the way,” she says, grinning.

“for what?” you ask, even though you already know where this is going.

“getting us prime seats to watch your boy play tonight,” she teases.

you groan, shaking your head. “he’s not my—”

“oh, save it,” she interrupts, laughing. “i’m just saying, this is gonna be very entertaining.”

you shoot lana a look, but she just grins, completely unfazed. “you realize your boy is going to be there as well.”

“ahhh, this is going to be so much fun,” she says, and for some reason, you can’t help but smile too.

you and lana are in her room, sorting through her closet to find something suitable for the football game. clothes are strewn across her bed, some tossed on the floor, and lana is holding up a navy sweater against herself in the mirror.

“what about this? casual but cute, right?” she asks, turning to you.

“it’s cute,” you say, trying not to laugh at the chaos around you. “but are we really dressing up for a football game?”

lana shoots you a look. “first of all, yes. second of all, you need to look extra cute. for a special reason.”

lana holds up a cropped sweater, frowning. “do i go with this? or the green one with the little buttons?”

“the green one,” you say without hesitation. “it makes your eyes pop.”

she nods thoughtfully, tossing the sweater onto a growing pile of rejected options. “okay, green it is. what about you? you can’t just show up in your usual jeans and hoodie. this is a game. there’s a whole vibe.”

before you can respond, lana’s younger sister amalia bursts into the room, a bundle of energy as always. she’s clutching a bowl of popcorn, her hair in a loose braid. at fifteen, she has that untamed curiosity that makes her impossible to ignore.

“what’s going on in here?” amalia asks, plopping down on the floor and grabbing one of lana’s discarded sneakers.

“getting ready for the game,” lana says, tossing the sweater onto the bed and grabbing a scarf.

amalia plops onto the corner of the bed, narrowly avoiding a pile of jeans. “so, like… are you going because you actually care about football, like, someone specific?”

“amalia!” you gasp, laughing, while lana groans.

“obviously, we’re going for the game,” lana says, dragging out the last word like it’s painfully obvious.

“sure you are,” amalia says, smirking. she looks at you. “so, which is it? topper or rafe?”

both lana and you freeze mid-motion, slowly turning to look at her. “what?” you say in unison, your voices dripping with confusion and maybe a hint of panic.

“oh my god, it is true.” amalia’s eyes widen, her tone full of mock scandal. “i mean, i heard you talking on the phone,” she says nonchalantly, taking a bite of her granola bar.

lana’s face contorts into a mix of horror and disbelief. “you were eavesdropping?”

“no!” amalia says defensively, though her grin betrays her. “i just walked past your room, and i heard you say something about rafe. or was it topper? honestly, you were talking so fast, i couldn’t tell.”

“besides, we have thin walls. i can hear every conversation you have.”

you bury your face in your hands while lana groans loudly, tossing a sweatshirt at the younger sister. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

she giggles, dodging the sweatshirt. “what? i’m just curious! so, which one is it? rafe or topper?”

“neither,” you say quickly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “we’re just going because… we have nothing better to do.”

amalia doesn’t look convinced, her eyes darting between the two of you like she’s trying to crack a code. “uh-huh. sure.”

you bury your face in your hands. “can we not do this right now?”

“oh, come on,” she says, grinning. “i have to live vicariously through you guys. my life is so boring.”

her older sister snickers. “you’re fifteen, amalia. you’re supposed to have a boring life.”

amalia rolls her eyes. “whatever. you’re lucky mom and dad aren’t here, or they’d totally make me go with you guys.”

lana points to the door, her tone firm. “okay, get out. now. before i tell mom you stole her granola bars again.”

amalia gasps dramatically, clutching the half-eaten bar to her chest. “you wouldn’t.”

with a huff, amalia stands and heads for the door, but not before throwing one last grin over her shoulder. “fine, but if you don’t tell me what happens tonight, i’m stealing your makeup.”

“go away, amalia!” lana yells, and the door slams shut behind her.

“you’re such a snitch,” could be heard from the other side of the door.

as the silence settles, you and lana exchange a look, and then burst into laughter.

“she’s impossible,” you say, shaking your head.

lana smirks, reaching for her eyeliner. “she’s also not wrong about you and rafe, though.”

you grab a pillow and throw it at her. “shut up!”

the stadium lights flood the field as you and lana make your way to the bleachers. the energy in the air is palpable, the crowd buzzing with excitement as the game is set to begin. the school colors are everywhere—navy and red banners, painted faces, and a sea of matching shirts.

lana’s decked out in navy, her outfit effortlessly stylish, while you’re in red, wearing your school hoodie with pride. she loops her arm through yours as you weave through the crowd.

“this is so chaotic,” lana says, laughing as you dodge a group of cheerleaders running toward the sidelines.

“you’re the one who wanted to come early,” you tease.

“early means we get good seats,” she replies, tugging you along.

as you near the edge of the bleachers, a familiar figure catches your eye. rafe is standing by the fence near the field, already in his uniform, looking every bit the golden boy quarterback he is. his helmet is tucked under one arm, and he’s talking to a teammate, but the moment he spots you, his face lights up.

he steps away, jogging over. “hey!”

“hi,” you reply, a little breathless from the crowd.

“i, uh, saved you and lana some seats,” he says, gesturing toward a spot near the middle of the bleachers, right in prime view of the field.

“oh, thanks!” you say, genuinely surprised and a little touched.

“of course,” he says casually, but there’s a flicker of something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

meanwhile, lana has already found her focus—topper is lingering a few steps away, looking effortlessly cool in his jersey. she doesn’t waste any time sidling up to him, her voice light and playful as she says, “topper, is this your game face, or do you always look this serious?”

topper smirks, tilting his head at her. “you tell me. think it’s intimidating enough?”

“intimidating? not quite,” she teases, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

you glance at her, rolling your eyes slightly but smiling. she’s clearly in her element, and for a moment, you’re distracted by their banter.

“hey,” rafe says, drawing your attention back to him.

you look up at him, his expression softer now. “yeah?”

“so, i was thinking…” he starts, trailing off for just a second before giving you a teasing look.

you arch an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “really? you were thinking?”

his grin deepens, and he nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “yeah, shut up. i was thinking…” he pauses again, this time looking a little nervous, though he hides it well. “if i win this game tonight, would you… wanna go out with me?”

you blink, caught completely off guard. his words hang in the air for a moment, and you can’t help the way your lips curve into a smile.

“seriously?” you ask, your voice soft but full of amusement.

“dead serious,” he replies, his eyes locked on yours, a mix of confidence and vulnerability in his expression.

your smile widens, warmth blooming in your chest. “well… i guess i’ll have to cheer extra loud, then.”

his grin stretches across his face, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “i’ll hold you to that.”

before you can say anything else, lana suddenly appears at your side, her cheeks slightly pink from talking to topper. “come on, we need to grab those seats before someone else does.”

rafe nods, stepping back but keeping his eyes on you. “i’ll see you after the game?”

you nod, your heart still racing. “good luck, captain.”

“thanks,” he says, his voice warm, before jogging back toward his team.

as you and lana make your way to the bleachers, she nudges you with her elbow, her grin mischievous. “sooo… what was that about?”

you shrug, trying to play it cool, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“uh-huh,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “you’re so coming to every game from now on.”

you laugh, feeling a little giddy. maybe you just might.

the game has been intense, and the crowd is on edge. the scoreboard has been a back-and-forth battle, but now, as the clock winds down, rafe's team is trailing by just a few points. the stands are buzzing with nervous energy as the players huddle on the field.

you’re perched on the edge of your seat, your eyes glued to rafe, who is looking more focused than ever. he’s been carrying the weight of the game ever since their second best star player was taken out with an injury. it’s clear that he’s frustrated, his jaw clenched as he scans the field, but there’s something else in his eyes: determination.

topper stands beside him, clearly trying to keep up with the intensity, but it’s hard not to notice that rafe’s doing most of the work. he’s calling the plays, directing the team, and every move he makes looks calculated—almost like he’s pushing his limits, but you can see in the way he carries himself that he’s not going to give up.

the clock is ticking down, seconds slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

“come on, come on!” lana mutters beside you, her voice almost lost in the roar of the crowd. you glance at her, her eyes fixed on rafe and topper, and then at the field. the tension is so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

rafe takes the ball, his eyes scanning for an opening. he’s got no choice now; it’s all on him. he fakes a pass to topper, sending the defenders rushing toward him, then in one swift motion, he dodges a tackle and charges down the field. the crowd rises to its feet, the energy growing with every step rafe takes.

you can’t help but hold your breath as you watch him break through the last line of defense, topper sprinting beside him, staying just close enough to act as backup. rafe’s legs move like they’re made of steel, his eyes locked on the end zone.

with seconds left on the clock, he passes the ball to topper, who’s just a few yards from the end zone. topper catches it and pivots, leaping into the air just as a defender tries to block him. time seems to slow as the ball arcs through the air and lands perfectly in topper’s hands. the crowd erupts as he crosses the goal line, securing the game-winning touchdown.

you can barely hear yourself think over the deafening roar of the crowd. you jump up with lana, both of you screaming and clapping in excitement. rafe’s face lights up as the team floods onto the field to congratulate topper, but he’s still scanning the crowd for someone.

you catch his eye, and for a split second, everything else fades away. his grin is wide, the exhaustion and tension melting off his face, replaced by sheer triumph.

“looks like you’ll be getting that date after all,” lana says, her voice full of teasing as she nudges you, but you barely hear her. all you can focus on is rafe’s smile, the way he’s looking at you from across the field.

you can feel your heart skip a beat as the final whistle blows. the game is over, and against all odds, rafe’s team pulled through.

lana cheers next to you, but you’re still staring at rafe, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips. he winks at you, the energy of the win still buzzing in his movements.

it’s official: rafe cameron just won the game—and, if you’re being honest, you think he just might’ve won a little bit of your heart too, especially when he was looking right at you after winning the game.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69 ⟢ @hstbsl06 ⟢ @percysley

[strawberrymoosetracks]

I read this as if it were in the modern day, and that the aforementioned God of War has taken on the modern form of someone who would be consitered the most powerful soldier, or the epitome of modern war. To me, the epitome of modern war is just a relatively fit guy who sits in a room with a PC. Heres my take on it, I didn't put much effort into this so sorry if it sucks :)

I've got to hand it to humans, they are great at making things efficient. Their innovation is beyond any other species I've encountered. One of their favorite things to make more efficient is war. Back in the old days, they trained young men, put them in armor, gave them a sword, and marched them thousands of miles for a fight against other young men who were similarly armed.

They started including horses, which sped up the transportation process. Then they came up with guns. A marvelous invention really. It made war much quicker, but it also forced armor to get better. As much as I liked the shiny armors, it was always too loud. It was nearly impossible to sneak anywhere, and seeing was a nightmare.

Nowadays, the most powerful warmonger is a guy at a desk. One may think that is crazy, but in all fairness, that guy has the ability to shoot a thousand suns at whoever they want to. I've had this job for eighty years, under three seperate faces.

I love efficiency...but the God of War gets bored when the people capeable of war are too scared to fight eachother. The Cold War ranks the lowest out of all the fun wars. Sooo, I look for fun in other ways. I started in the eighties when I could find someone who wasn't an anti-war hippie, but wasn't a complete jerk. That was when I realised my love language. I love physical touch. It's like my kryptonite. Maybe it's that it's been years since any soldier was willing to hug, especially in high war time. I had forgotten how great it felt to hug.

And now we get to the modern day, I have a girlfriend. She's super sweet, but sometimes she has some...interesting ideas. We get into conversations and find out that she has the strangest ideas. We go to the bar with friends and get into conversations about the romans, and as someone who was there, I have to set them straight. They always brush me off, saying that it can't be true. Maybe in my next iteration I can become a historian and set these lies straight. Anyways, we were at a bar with some other soldiers, and we were talking about Ares. That used to be my name, but I have been though too many lives since then.

"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as small as affection? Don't be stupid." Leah said, taking a sip of her drink.

As the others seemed to agree, I just had to intervine. "As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong you can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and l'l be your loyal servant for... five minutes, give or take?"

The group was completely silent. They all stared at me, trying to work though it. Leah started laughing, "You're funny, Levi. You don't even get in real combat. Like come on." She slowly stoped laughing as my face continued to be serious. "You're not joking? You really think you're the God of War?"

"I don't think, I know." I said, staring into their blank faces, "Ok watch." I looked around the bar and eyed two guys who were friends. I pointed at them, and they immediately became enraged. They yelled at eachother, mostly nonsense. There was no real greivance, just some pent up anger I was using. One was about to swing when they suddenly stopped, sitting down and continued to talk as normal. I turned back to my drink and took a small sip.

I took a deep breath in and out, my shoulders dramatically rising and falling. It had been centuries since I told anyone I was the God of War. Since the romans went out, people stopped believing in pantheon gods. I would have shown the middevial europe my real self, but I had inconveniently been turned into a woman at that time. Calling myself a God was an easy way to get burnt at the stake, and getting out of that was too much work.

"No way..." My girlfriend muttered, staring at me.

I slowly turned to her, "Well, do I give loyalty for head pats?" She nodded slowly, her mouth agape.

My buddy next to her slowly leaned over and patted me on the head, "Please don't kill me."

I smirked, "Wasn't planning on it." I drank the rest of my drink and set it down, not really knowing how to start back up the conversation. It just became dead silent, everyone grapling with my revealed identity. Well I just ruined the night with this again, teaches me to never reveal myself with my close friends. So many centuries into this, and I apparently still have many things to learn.

—"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as fickle as affection? Don't be foolish." —"As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong. You can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and I'll be your loyal servant for… five minutes, give or take?"

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Drunk Texts from Sevika ✞⛧

[3:47 AM - sevika]

Where the hell are you.

[3:52 AM]

I can’t find my keys.

Did you move them?

Don’t lie to me.

[4:03 AM]

Okay. I found them. Never mind.

You left the light off in the hall. Almost fell.

Trying to kill me or something?

[4:15 AM]

You’re probably asleep.

Good. Stay that way.

I’m coming home. Don’t get mad if I wake you up. That’s on you.

[4:18 AM]

Forget what I said.

You better be awake when I get there.

[4:32 AM]

I miss you.

Don’t tell anyone I said that.

Delete this message.

[4:40 AM]

I’m outside. Open the door.

Wait. Don’t open the door.

I got it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[1:15 AM - Sevika]

yo. you up?

wait i kno ur up

u alwasy wait 4 me lol loser

miss me?

[1:17 AM - You]

You just left two hours ago. Are you drunk already?

[1:18 AM - Sevika]

pfft no

im fine. like FINE fine

everybody herez lookin at me

prolly think im hot

[1:19 AM - You]

Or they’re staring because you’re typing while glaring at them. Be nice, Sevika.

[1:21 AM - Sevika]

u kno me im so NICE

just told sum guy id break his jaw

he looked at me FUNNY

…or maybe his nose idk he left fast lol

[1:22 AM - You]

Sevika. Stop scaring people.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

nah. scared ppl r funny

bt not u. ur cute. like a bunny. lil bunny. my bunny.

u wanna sit on my lap again? bet u do. bet ur blushing rn.

[1:26 AM - You]

Sevika, you’re ridiculous. Are you drunk flirting with me? You live here. Just come home.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

no im GOOD HERE.

this chair is kinda comfy but not like MY CHAIR. u kno the one i let u sit in.

U BETTER NOT BE IN MY CHAIR RN

[1:30 AM - You]

…I’m in your chair right now, actually. Feet up and everything.

[1:32 AM - Sevika]

wHAT THE FUQ

DISRESEPCTFUL AS HELL

im takin ur chair privlages when i get home.

wait r u waitin 4 me in my shirt 2?

[1:33 AM - You]

I’m literally in your shirt AND your chair. You gonna do something about it or just keep texting like a drunk idiot?

[1:35 AM - Sevika]

ok LISTEN u lil gremlin

ur gettin kidnapped when i get back

ur goin STRAIGHT to my bed. no more chair 4 u.

u think im jokin? bet.

[1:36 AM - You]

Oh no, whatever will I do? Guess I’ll just have to wait here like the little bunny I am.

[1:38 AM - Sevika]

stop bein cute im tryna be mad >:(

also ur def not a gremlin ur MY bunny

fine im comin home rn

…after one more drink

[1:40 AM - You]

If you come home smelling like beer and trouble again, I’m locking you out.

[1:41 AM - Sevika]

lmao ok but then who’s gonna carry u to bed?

face it baby u need me. luv u but dont tell anyone i said that.

[1:42 AM - You]

I’m screenshotting this.

[1:44 AM - Sevika]

delete that or ur grounded

also open the door when i get there

i lost my keys.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[12:56 AM - Sevika]

yooo

why iz the floor so sticky in here

feels like im walkin on a damn flytrap

someone buy me new boots rn

[12:57 AM - You]

That’s because you keep going to The Last Drop, Sev. Why don’t you ever drink somewhere normal?

[12:59 AM - Sevika]

cuz i own this place

kinda

like spiritually

everybody knows me here

bartender just gave me a free shot for “looking scary”

i think that’s a compliment

[1:01 AM - You]

It’s… something. Are you already drunk or just being you?

[1:03 AM - Sevika]

im DRINKIN rn duh

but im fine like always

bet i could arm wrestle half the bar and win rn

u think i should? for fun?

[1:05 AM - You]

No, Sev. Please don’t break someone’s arm again. Last time you did that, you came home with their wallet as a “souvenir.”

[1:08 AM - Sevika]

lmao i forgot about that guy

he cried like a baby

funniest night of my life tbh

i’ll bring u a new souvenir tonight if ur lucky

[1:10 AM - You]

I don’t need any “souvenirs,” Sev. Just come home in one piece.

[1:12 AM - Sevika]

pfft u worry too much

like a lil wife or somethin

wait

r u my wife??

we shud get married rn. i’ll find a guy to do it

[1:14 AM - You]

Sevika. No. Don’t get married at The Last Drop. That’s not even legally binding.

[1:16 AM - Sevika]

ur no fun. but u kno wuts fun?

thinkin about u

and ur face

ur face is stupid cute

[1:17 AM - You]

How drunk are you right now? Be honest.

[1:19 AM - Sevika]

uhhhh

like 3 beers and 2 shots worth of drunk

and one guy’s dumb enough to bet me i can’t throw a knife at the wall n hit the same spot twice

[1:20 AM - You]

SEVIKA NO.

[1:22 AM - Sevika]

relax babe i won the bet obvi

made 20 bucks

and the guy is buyin me another round

u married a genius

[1:23 AM - You]

I didn’t marry you. Yet. But keep this up, and I might leave you for someone safer.

[1:25 AM - Sevika]

lmao shut up u love me

im sexy AND scary

also i jus told some idiot to stop lookin at me

…or maybe he was lookin at my drink? idk

[1:27 AM - You]

You’re the reason we can’t have nice things. Now come home before you start a bar fight.

[1:29 AM - Sevika]

but if i don’t start fights who will??

jk i’ll finish my drink

n maybe stop at that sandwich place on the way home

u want anything or nah?

[1:31 AM - You]

Yes, get me a sandwich. And try not to scare the cashier this time.

[1:33 AM - Sevika]

no promises babe

but i luv u

dont wait up

unless u wanna be awake when i get there ;)

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[cybrasigilism]

Touch (Player 124/Nam-gyu X F!Reader ONESHOT)

warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | masturbation | JOI | hand fetish if you squint | reader has female genitalia | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: had this one on my mind for a minute, i’m just looking for any excuse to write about him i fear. it’s funny to think about how reluctant i was to write for him and now he’s one of my favourites to write for, but anyways ENJOY KISS KISS MWAHHHH (AGAIN THIS IS WRITTEN IN POINT FORMAT BC I FEEL MORE CONFIDENT GETTING MY IDEAS OUT THIS WAY)

MDNI! 18+ content below the cut, readers discretion is advised

➤ it’s hard to believe how nervous you were the first time nam-gyu suggested this, for you to masturbate in front of him, but looking back you truly had no idea how much you would come to enjoy it.

➤ he would have you sit between his legs, back to his chest while you touched yourself. you could feel his breath hitch at every little sound that escaped your lips. shivers went up your spine whenever he rubbed his hands up and down your arms, telling you how hot you sounded right then

➤ his absolute favourite thing to do was to talk you through it, telling you exactly how he would please you if it was him fingering your cunt instead. he would even come as close as grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand himself, but most of the time he will simply sit back and instruct you on how to jack yourself off

➤ he really likes to egg you on through the process too, he’ll taunt and tease while you try so hard to make yourself cum

“bet you wish that was my hand between your legs, huh? you wish those were my fingers fucking your pathetic pussy, don’t you?”

“come on you can do better than that! you must not want to cum that badly if that’s all you’ve got”

“do i need to remind you how you like it, is that it?”

➤ he’ll give you a hint of praise, only to go right back to calling you his “dumb little slut”. he pulls you right in by saying how good your doing for him, how pretty you sound— but in the end he’ll go back to his way, not that your complaining.

“fuck this is all your good for isn’t it. being a dirty little whore for me, isn’t that right?”

“don’t hold back now, you and i both know you like being treated this way; how wet you get when i boss you around like this.”

➤ he’ll definitely touch you in other ways, mainly trying to distract you from bringing yourself to release. he’ll grope your tits, pull your hair back and kiss your neck, squeeze your thighs; anything to get you all the more hot and bothered

➤ to expand on the praise point, some things he’ll say include:

“such a good girl, doing exactly as i say”

“shit— you sound so pretty when you do that”

“yeah, do it like i showed you fuck”

ıllıllııllıllıllıllııllıllıllıllııllıllıllıllııllıllı

happy nam-gyu day!! (1/24) i just want to thank you guys again for all the support on my page, i’m truly blessed and forever grateful :)

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fabulous night/day lovelies 🤭

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kouzih @gabbystinks

[revelboo]

Saw you did a wipe of the asks, so I thought I’d send this in again!!! The little guys arrived and I love them so very much (Pardon the messy desk lol, but I got the rare Oppy!!! He’s so shiny!!!) Could we get some Swerve, Ironhide, or Cliffjumper crumbs, oh mighty Revel??? Much love!!! 🥰♥️

So cute! Sure, I’m still stuck at home sick, so I’ll see if I can get some updates done

Hold Me Down Pt 6

Ironhide x Reader

• What is this now? The seventh time he's heard you rustling around over there? Tossing and turning tangled in all your sheets on your little bed. Every time he's almost in recharge, you start making noise again. "Alright, what's your malfunction over there?" He demands, sitting up and scowling over at you. "Because trust me, you're not going to like me if you don't let me recharge, darlin'." And your little head comes up, hair all over the place as you glare at him and yank a pillow over your head. Shaking off the errant thought that you look almost cute half awake and angry, he vents. No. Absolutely not. You're not going to ignore him and keep him online all night. He has too much work to do.

• You hear him slide off his berth and the heavy sound of his peds approaching. And you try to hang onto your pillow when he tugs it away and frowns down at you. Why is he such a jerk? "I can't sleep when it's this cold!" Grabbing a blanket and tugging it over your head, you wait for him to drop your pillow on you and go away. What is it in here? Fifty degrees? Colder? Maybe he's trying to slowly kill you with hypothermia. No, you're pretty sure it needs to be colder for that. This is just him being awful. Making you miserable.

• Cold? Now that he thinks about it, Wheeljack had mentioned the humans were a bit funny about temperature. He'd also said his likes to sprawl on him to sleep otherwise they're too cold. Oh, for Primus's sake. Annoyed, he grabs you and your blankets, ignoring your angry squawking as he lays back down and plunks you on his chassis. "There. Warm," he growls as you just gape down at him in offense. And bean him in the face with a pillow. "Lay down and recharge already."

• "Sleep," you immediately correct him as he shutters his optics to ignore you. "I want my pillow back." There's no way he's already out that fast, he's just ignoring you. Inhaling, you crawl up his chassis and stretch out against his chin to reach your pillow where it had landed on his cheek. And he vents against your belly when your shirt rides up, one optic opening to watch you. Shuddering, you refuse to let him know how off balance you are. Draping your arms on his chin, you boost yourself up so he can see you better. "Night baby, I loathe you," you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss against his bottom lip before picking your way back down to your blankets.

• Frozen in shock, he's half tempted to roll on his side and dump you off of him. You have no idea what loathing is. How much he despises being saddled with a little brat like you. Think you've won, don't you? That you can do whatever you want with impunity because you're so little and helpless. Darlin,' if you want a war, you're going to get one. Denta working his bottom lip, he's absolutely not thinking about the way your soft mouth had felt pressed against his.

Previous

[takes1]

i just wanted to tell you how GOOD that asahi x reader that u posted recently is like OML. ty for doing gods work and posting for my MAN

extra: a rough!asahi drabble

i appreciate your kindness so much. 😭this is just a small final-final drabble to the rough!asahi series, nothing much but some ppl were asking <3

warnings. implied nsfw, heavy recreational drinking, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / fluff-esque / asahi is the aftercare king / mutual size kink / playfighting kink / power struggle fetish / nishinoya loves his friends / 900 words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here. final part here.

Thanks to some calculated foresight, nobody noticed you and Asahi leaving at the same time. Everyone had been involved in their monetized 50/50 odds with Kageyama/Tsukishima's brawl that nothing else mattered.

That was, of course, only until Nishinoya couldn't find his bestie.

He was turning to call to you, make one more joke about how you scared the big coward off.

He quickly scanned the rest of the room- you had both vanished from thin air.

"Yachi?"

It was a little tap against her leg. He sat on the floor, back against the sofa that she was perched on. She leaned forward to hear him amidst all the commotion.

"Did you see where Asahi went?"

Her face grew bright, bright red. She straightened and didn't look at him, except for another tiny, nervous glance.

Yachi infamously could not keep secrets. And, although it wasn't exactly a secret that you two left, it was obvious that you didn't want to be followed, and she knew your feelings well.

Nishinoya's mouth hung open- he pushed himself to sit between her and Daichi, watching her way too close.

A suspicious mutter, right next to her cherry-red face, "You know something."

"Okay- okay, 'Noya-!" Daichi grabbed him hard enough to make him sit naturally again, "Stop that."

"Where is Asahi!" He shouted.

He shoved Daichi off and got up to a kneel again so that he could scan the entire living room. It was hardly a question, because this twilight-zone couch wasn't going to get him any answers.

Suga tried a smarter approach, after sharing a panicked look to Daichi.

"He probably had to take a shit, or somethin'."

Nishinoya stood on the couch, pointing a harsh finger at Suga. He was completely tipped off now, unable to trust a single person, because it was obvious he was not in on something. Now they were all trying to lie.

"You know he only shits in his own house!"

Daichi had to stifle his laughter- that was so true, and such a tiny detail they all knew, and never acknowledged. His attempts to grab Noya were compromised as he giggled. Being pretty wasted did not help.

"Noya, Sit- aah-hahaha-! Sit dowwn!"

"Okayyy, relax man!"

Nishinoya was freaking out, also drunk, knocked back down to his knees because of Daichi's clumsy pulling, "Wheeere! Is! Asahiii!"

Suga stood up to help, only throwing a glance to Yachi- who looked like she was about to implode. The pressure was high, made worse by everyone else's loud chanting, a count-down, for Kageyama to keep his hold on Tsukishima in the center of the circle.

"You're gonna-Ow! Hurt yourself!"

It took the combined strength of Suga and Daichi to keep their smaller friend in place. Tens of minutes passed by with Nishinoya restrained by his legs and waist- sprawled awkwardly over their laps. He would occasionally cry Asahi's name up to the ceiling in a monotone, defeated drawl, as if he was dead.

Nobody else cared, aside from thinking Nishinoya was a funny little guy when he had been drinking.

The rest of the matches were quieter. Daichi had to give up his ref position to Kageyama, since he was sober and the most willing, but that didn't stop him from making the world's worst calls.

Yachi was the first to hear it.

She was zoned out, staring forward at the blank wall, but got roused by a small, and somewhat familiar pitch.

"Oh- oh no--," She leaned over Nishinoya's leg, shaking Daichi's shoulder. She mouthed, 'I can hear them!'

Instead of springing up into action right away, like she expected them to, they sat still. It took a second to understand that they were trying to listen.

The very feint, but undeniable, sounds of some very good sex met their curious ears.

"The speaker-!" Suga caught his breath, sporting a very similar, harsh redness, as he shoved Nishinoya off, "Fuck, I- I'm getting th'speaker."

The solution was efficient, and a surefire way to keep everyone downstairs for longer. It was waking up those that were falling asleep.

It also helped to disguise Asahi once he began barreling down the steps. To the little group, all in on it, they were turned around already, waiting to see him as he stepped into the light.

He was glittering with sweat.

A brief, uneven, "H-ey, guys."

He cleared his throat, unable to meet any of their eyes, as he continued to the kitchen for some water.

Daichi collapsed onto the couch. He was taken completely with laughter, and Suga sat upright, mouth hanging open, growing warmer and warmer, clutching Yachi for support.

If that's what Asahi looked like, it was safe to assume that you must've been in shambles.

When he came back around with water, Nishinoya flung his torso over the back of the couch and barely snagged him by the shirt.

"Asahiii!" He gripped him tight, meeting his eyes with a messy smile, "Who won?"

Asahi made a frightened sound.

In his violent shudder, Nishinoya was shaken off and had to go without a proper response-- he scoffed, calling after him, "You're such a wuss!!"

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

taglist. thanks for supporting!

@samisfunky @fimisstuff @vlads-dracula3

@toria175 @kornlol @coffeeaddictedmay @feiwelinchen

@thisiswhereishitpostalot @kitewa @foxxxything @kaeyasrighttoenail @screamin-abt-haikyuu

my masterlist. more haikyuu. my imagines.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[eclipseberrycake]

Top Shelf (Support! Reader x Sprout)

AN: Oooh mr. Seedly. I love making you all fall in love with my version of Sprout >:) Then requesting more Sprout >:) Then I get to write more Sprout >:)

This is a request!

☁ Now, now, now. A support toon.

☁ Hear me out. An ability like Gigi, but instead of getting the objects yourself, you give a random object to a toon of your choice.

☁ Of course, you give this to Sprout, all the time. Because it's funny.

☁ Imagine he's hiding from a twisted behind a box and is suddenly pelted by gumballs falling from the air above him, your giggles falling away.

☁ Just as he goes to yell at you, the twisted spots him and he's left running to lose them, glaring at you as you snicker from your own hiding place.

☁ Sprout is an overprotective guy, we've established well enough, and this ability kind of pisses him off.

☁ Why is he taking something, especially when luck strikes and it's something like a band or a med-kit, when it could be going to you?

☁ A part of him knows that this is your way of showing affection however. You do what you can to protect him while he's always giving you heals whenever needed. It's a give and take really.

☁ I haven't really touched on it directly in the MBC works, but Sprout is a touchy guy. He loves just touching for no reason. But he's a jerk when he does it/ affectionate

☁ He's leaning on you like you're a table, messing with your head, using his hands to steer your shoulders wherever he wants, holding you like one would hold a cat, crouching down to talk face-to-face with you even if the height difference isn't that great.

☁ He even does that thing where he holds your forehead with one hand while the other holds something out of your reach.

☁ Like I'm sorry but I love the Lovers who are actually each others biggest haters. It's so funny to me.

☁ Don't get me wrong, if you're with Sprout, you're probably returning it tenfold.

☁ You call him over for tapes only to take them the second he's close enough to do so (Oooh ginger mains when I CATCH YOU GINGER MAINS-), running off giggling even if he's quick enough to catch you. You're making sure you're using your ability when he's in the worst situation, making him stumble to catch the bottle of pop as Twisted Teagan chases him down.

☁ It's all in good fun, trust.

☁ You guys probably get together because he's talking to Cosmo about his feelings an Cosmo goes "You want me to set you up with them?" And like a FOOL, he agrees. So, in the elevator where it's isolated with no escape route, Cosmo SCREAMS across the elevator. "HEY Y/N SPROUT LIKES YOU!"

☁ He would throttle the cake roll yet.

☁ He nearly did when you turned at the sound of your name from your conversation with Glisten, who hides his laugh behind his hand. You're cheeks immediately flush as your brain computes the knowledge given to you and Sprout wants to crawl into a hole and die.

☁ And then you laugh. It's slow little giggles and then hearty laughter that makes his stomach flip hearing it. You shake your head before beaming. "I would hope so, as far as I'm aware, we've been dating for months."

☁ Which was news to him. He gapes as Cosmo cackles, patting Sprout's back before running into the newly opened room. The only two left in the elevator are him and you. You watch the others leave, before stepping just enough the elevator won't kick you out, watching Sprout as he steps beside you.

☁ He avoids your eyes as he scratches the back of his neck, his own seeded cheeks turning a more ruby red. You grin at him, gently taking his hand. "What's wrong, Seedly?"

☁ All signs of the bashful, shy Sprout are immediately dashed as he deadpans at you, raising a brow ridge at the use of his name. You smirk up at him again, nudging him with a shoulder.

☁ "Did you really think we were dating?" He suddenly asks and your face falls. It makes his own gut twist as he goes to try and rectify it, but you're already talking, trying to take your hand back. "I'm so sorry, did I read the signs all wrong? I thought when you mentioned feeling closed to me a couple weeks ago-"

☁ He had done that. He mentioned being closest with you weeks ago, and was going confess then, but wussed out. To know now, that you took it that way anyway? His hands tighten around yours. "I was!" He blurts. "I was going to, admittedly." He frowns at this even as you stop trying to pull away. "I chickened out, but I do like you. A lot. I did then and I do now."

☁ You stare at him before letting out a sigh of relief, shaking your head with a grin. "Oh, Mr. Seedly-"

☁ "Well if you're calling me that-" Sprout is the one to try and pull away this time, making you giggle as you try and grab him again, saying all sorts of denials and apologies through your laughter.

☁ He lets you grab his cheeks, staring into the pools of your eyes with a dopey grin on his face. Sure Cosmo was being chased by a twisted right now, but he'd be fine. He deserved it. At least for a little.

☁ "Can I kiss you?" You ask suddenly, and his cheeks burn a bright red, only able to mindlessly nod his head. You reach up and press a kiss to his lips, only a quick peck, but he swears fireworks go off somewhere.

☁ You grin at him once more and there's suddenly something much heavier and cylindrical in his hands. You're waving as you run off, and he's left staring between his hand, which now holds a can of pop, and you're retreating form before laughing at himself and what's he's gotten himself into before turning to save Cosmo.

☁ Cosmo gives him all sorts of scoldings in the elevator after the fact, but Sprout can't even find it in himself to care, leaning his chin on your head even as you swat at him.

☁ He does love your ability, let me add, he just wishes sometimes you'd use it in a better time. There are times however when it's perfect.

☁ He doesn't distract often, not if he can help it, but when he does and he feels himself running on empty, only for a bottle of pop to appear? He's forever thankful. Or when he's been too busy healing everyone else, he doesn't realize he himself has been hit until he's being smoked with a bandage box.

☁ In return, he throws cupcakes at you.

☁ All in the names of healing.

☁ He's such a turd sometimes I swear.

[yourprettylildoe]

𝒯𝓌𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝒷𝓁ℴ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓂

Yandere!classmate x popular!fem!reader

a shy guy and a spoiled girl. What a cliché romance story, right? Wrong. You were his since the beginning, all you needed was some motivation to realise it.

note: yandere thoughts/behaviour, blackmail, mean reader, implied vulgar videos.

♡︎

The door to the classroom shut.

Silence hung after as a stare-off contest ensued. Well, not exactly a stare-off — it was mostly your mean glare and Adam's gaze averted to the ground while he wrung his fingers together.

Your foot tapped against as you lazily looked up at the lanky boy in front of you, patience already running thin. "Well, what do you want?"

Big, puppy eyes darted around before landing on you. Yet, despite the obvious shyness, a hint of something intense lurked under the surface. A breathy chuckle left his lips as he bit the inside of his cheek. "Right. Right-"

The two of you have never spoken much. You were the type of person had the loudest laugh while surrounded by equally shallow friends who normalised your behavior. Why would a girl like you go out with a guy who blended into the background like furniture?

He rummaged through his bag as papers and books clumsily dropped in the process, apologies slipping past his lips while you tsked at his pathetic actions.

In between the mess he made, you caught odd mumbling along the lines of: "this has to be perfect" and "she'll understand me".

Finally, his eyes lit up like a christmas tree as his hand closed around the object he was looking for and pulled it out.

A white flower.

The way it rested in his grip felt...off. His fingers clung to it like it mattered. You didn't care for what kind it was. Probably a cliché romantic gesture, right?

With a nervous yet excited smile, he held it out. You inwardly groaned and braced yourself for the typical speech to come:

"Y/N, I-I think you're a very beautiful and amazing person-" says the guy ridiculed by you on multiple occasions, "-and this, well- I've l-liked you for a while and...I was hoping you'd go out with me?"

...

Silence. Absolute silence. Then you laughed.

Adam's hopeful expression crumbled as you doubled over, clutching your stomach.

It really wasn't your fault. In your defence, it was just so funny that he thought you'd say yes. You almost felt bad, but what were you supposed to do? Humor him? Yeah, that'd just be cruel. You wouldn't be caught dead with a guy like him. More like someone of your type — confident, a party animal and most likely a jock.

A few minutes passed before you found your bearings again. Dabbing at your eyes, you snickered as you eyed his now ashamed face, "Oh my god, it's adorable how you assumed I'd go out with someone like you."

Your words stung him like a physical blow to the heart. He flinched pitifully, sputtering, "I...I thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong." Nearly snarling that sentence, you brushed past his frozen form and headed for the door. "Now, get out of my way." All this for a waste of time? He might as well just've-

A rough arm closed around around yours, yanking you back and slamming you into the wall. He banged his hand on the wall beside your head, the sound reverberating through your entire being.

You winced, before starting to yell, "hey! what the fu..." your voice died down in your throat. His eyes were sharp and predatory, no longer holding that cheery innocence they did a few seconds ago but instead replaced with a glare. The air around you was thicker, like oxygen was sucked out of the room and swallowed by this boy. A cold shiver ran up your spine. Where did the gentle giant go?

And when he loomed over you, you suddenly realised how large the height difference was between the two of you.

"I was going to do this the nice way, but I'm afraid you left me no choice."

Your breath hitched — this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to crumble or even shed a few tears, not smile like this was his plan all along. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" It was his turn to chuckle condescendingly, like you always did to him. A wolf and its prey. Except, the tables have turned this time around.

Maybe you did go a little too harsh on him and pushed his limits too much. Should you apologise? He's a sweet boy that's not beyond mending, after all. It's still the same old Adam.

His fingers played with the flowers petals as he asked while ignoring you, "do you know what Jasmines signify, honey?" It wasn't a question as he immediately continued rambling. "They show deep, deep love. And you rejected that love."

Mysteries hung in the air after his words as he turned to his phone, screen glowing against his features. You wanted, no, needed to tell him off as usual. What made it different now? And damn it, why couldn't you speak? His finger stopped scrolling. A manic grin grew on his lips.

"But don't worry, you'll accept it. One way or another."

Before you could even process his words, the screen was shoved into your face. The world stopped suddenly, ringing echoing in your ears.

Oh, no.

Sweat rolled down your temple, heart threatening to leap out of your ribcage. You didn't even notice the heavy pants leaving your lips as your throat felt awfully tight and closed up.

You blinked. Once, then twice. Still, the contents on his phone wouldn't disappear like you magically hoped they would. They were real.

In his opinion, you looked awfully cute like that. Wide-eyed as you adorably looked around for an exit. He couldn't help but croon at how powerless you looked right now, like you weren't such a bratty girl.

"W-what- you..." you swallowed, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of your confidence. "How?"

"it's simple, really." His cold, boney fingers cupped your cheek, but you jerked away. If he noticed, which he most certainly did, he didn't pay the action any mind while he continued his villainous monologue. "When you're practically invisible your whole life, people tend to underestimate your abilties. And I happened to know a little bit of hacking. That's how I found these...videos."

You didn't reply. You couldn't. Teeth sunk into your shaky bottom lip as you mustered up a weak glare, prompting a dark laugh out of him. He cooed, "honestly, I had fun watching most of these. I didn't know you were so naughty, baby. Who knew my pretty girl had such a big secret?"

Adam got his hands on a very delectable treat, that much was obvious. The real puzzle remained...and almost as if he realised the same thing, his smile inched further up his face. "Hm, what shall I do with these? It'd be a real shame if someone got a glimpse of you in all your beauty."

"Just tell me what you want."

He sighed in contentment, utterly delighted by the question of the hour. "I won't show these to anyone as long as you agree to my deal. You could keep your secret and I could get what I want. And I don't think that's much to ask, do you?"

Clammy hands balled up in frustration as you realised you hit a dead end, with Adam hot on your tail. He knew how much you basked in the loving attention and twisted it against you, that scumbag.

You peeked over his shoulder to see if there were any intruders before meeting his amused face again. You hushed urgently, "fine, what's the deal?"

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face up. Dread curled up your spine the second you saw the triumphant smirk on his lips.

"I want you to be my girlfriend."

Did...did you hear him correctly? Girlfriend? You're pretty sure this qualified as blackmail, something the quiet guy at the back of class typing away would never be capable of doing. But now you weren't so sure you're looking at the same person.

"You'll let me go out with you, spend time with you and do whatever I tell you to. You'll be mine, and act like it." He bared his teeth this time, making his upper hand promineny.

Anger coursed through your veins. How dare he? "Screw you, you crazy psycho!"

His eyes narrowed with obvious displeasure, "be careful with your words. You wouldn't want anyone to hear about your..." he glanced down at his phone then back up at you, "...fetishes."

Your hands itched to slap that smug expression off of his face. Everything you worked so hard to build couldn't fall to the ground because of one pesky guy. For the first time in your life, you weren't the one in control.

"Y-you can't do this," the tone sounded more vunerable than intended. Adam's gaze softened in pity as he brushed a hair behind your ear, the action gentle and tender like he didn't just threaten you.

"Love, it's your choice in the end. Though, I promise to take care of you during our agreement." Was it really your choice, though?

It dawned on you in that very moment that Adam had hidden his claws all this time, patiently waiting and waiting as you ridiculed to play the right cards. If the intention wasn't hatred however, then what was it? You needed to tread carefully, then you'd be able to find a way to free yourself of his clutches.

Physically pained by how weak you felt, you dropped your gaze to the floor and slowly nodded. One thing was clear: you sold your soul to the devil.

"Good girl~" he said happily, patting your head. "I promise you won't regret this. I'll give you a few days to get used to this before we become official."

Carefully, he tucked the Jasmine into your hair. A sign of his twisted, deep-rooted love. Warm lips pressed against your cheek and you turned your head away, embarrassed.

You whispered softly, peering up at him through your lashes, "will you delete them now?"

"Delete them?" He quirked an amused brow, "I think I'll keep them for a while in case you get any ideas...but don't worry, be good and I'll think about it, m'kay?"

Adam slung his bag over his shoulder, watching his girlfriend stare at him in a daze. Poor thing, you're probably too flustered to even say anything. He'll definitely buy you more Jasmines, though. Maybe a bouqet?

This game should be fun. A predator and a prey switching roles? What a plot,

He'll keep those videos till the end of time if that's what it took to keep you with him. All of this until you love him.

♡

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

[tqlepatia]

─ One of the girls. ♰

- ❝ sigh, guys, i tried. not revised, english in'st my first language and i dont write smuut very well 👁❞

you didn't really liked men, I mean, who likes them? but you is desperate enough for money to not put limits on your client's, basic math, fewer clients, less money.

Girls are hot, everybody knows that, but who most people don't know that the ones with the most courage, come to the brothel to "try" if they like girls or something like that, in short? You've never had such experienced womans.

until one day, it was a normal one to you, besides of the loud of the girls filling the of the building corridors, as aways you get dressed up, putting some perfume of some brand unknown, getting you hair done and soon remembering of change the sheets and etc.

Soon you finished all you chores you hear nock at the door, you check the watch in the wall, its still early, babette already open? you sigh, but then your big curiosity make you open the door, seeing babette with an almost new expression, she was a mix of confused, happy, sad and almost worry

"darling, you already is dressed up?" she ask analyzing your room, sighing she gives you bag of paper - with some white lace lingerie, looks expansive.

"do you know who is the silco right-hand?" Hm, you may heard one time during a late night conversation with the girls? the only thing you sure is that you are confused as hell.

"Yeah, i heard of her, shes dead ? Why u looking at me sooo?..not trying to be rude okay?" babette force a little laugh, she consider you, too much, almost like a daughter, she remember more clearly than the rivers of Piltover the day you come in, soaking wet of the rain, looking guilt, ashemed and all, she soon cleaned her through looking at you

"She was a regular client here, but of sudden, she disappeared, and shes back now, and told me she was coming here later, I'd think of separate my best girl for her."

you smile nodding, in a place like this, is rare even a little of genuine affection, she smile, wishing you good luck, and you almost grab as if is 100 gold coins flying on the air, you know you will need it.

after what feels like a eternity, you hear the ambient music, a low sensual jazz, The brothel Its officially open now.

Exactly 2 hours passed, and nothing of her, you were already with that lingerie, must be from Piltover, with too many details, little flowers embroidered on top of the silk, some transparent parts, and the big dress-like, transparent, feathered, white matching perfectly with each piece, you were left admiring yourself in the mirror for almost 1 hour, you looked pure even! Hm, so she was one of those woman's who liked seeing a woman so vulnerable, and innocent? Funny.

The soft jazz played in the background, almost drowned out by the weight of the silence as you waited. You were about to give in to the exhaustion, laying back slowly on the bed, when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Each step was deliberate, firm, growing closer. The air seemed heavier now, the world around you quieter, as if holding its breath.

The door creaked as it opened, revealing a striking, imposing figure. You sat up instinctively, your gaze locking onto the woman now standing in the doorway. This wasn’t just any client. Her presence carried authority, and the dim light from the hallway caught the glint of a mechanical arm that seemed as natural to her as her skin.

“Finally found you,” she said, her voice low and gravelly, filling the room with ease.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Your eyes roamed over her face—a sharp scar running down one side, a smirk that bordered on dangerous, and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you.

“You’re…?” you started, but the answer was obvious before you could finish the question.

“Sevika,” she said simply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her with a deliberate slowness. “I���ve heard a lot about you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Sevika. Silco’s right hand. The woman whispered about in hushed voices, both feared and respected. You never thought you’d find yourself face-to-face with her.

“About… me?” You tried to sound composed, but the hesitation in your voice betrayed you.

“That’s right,” she said, crossing her arms and letting her gaze linger on you. “Babette said you were… special.”

Heat rose to your face under the weight of her stare. Special? What was that supposed to mean? Her words didn’t make sense, but there was something in the way she spoke, the way she looked at you, that made the air in the room feel heavier, charged with tension.

“I didn’t think you… visited places like this,” you said, trying to mask your unease.

Sevika let out a low, almost mocking chuckle and strode toward the armchair in the corner of the room. She sat with the ease of someone who was completely in control, her mechanical arm resting casually on the chair’s armrest.

“Normally, I don’t,” she admitted, her tone calm, yet carrying an edge of authority. “But some things… deserve my attention. You, for example.”

“Me?” Your voice came out louder than intended, the disbelief clear in your tone.

“You.” Sevika tilted her head, her sharp eyes scanning you slowly, deliberately. “I wanted to see what made you different. Why someone like Babette would say you’re not like the others here.”

Your hands clenched at the fabric of the bedsheet, a mix of confusion and discomfort swirling inside you. How did she know so much about you? And why was she so interested?

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Oh, I do.” Sevika leaned forward slightly, her voice softening, though it lost none of its weight. “You don’t belong in a place like this. Anyone can see that just by looking at you.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was the truth you tried so hard to avoid acknowledging—the truth that brought you here in the first place. But hearing it from Sevika made it feel far too real.

“Why does that matter to you?” you asked, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Sevika smirked, the metallic glint of her arm catching the light as she adjusted her posture. “Let’s just say I have a habit of investing in things that are worth it. And maybe… you’re exactly that.”

Her words made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t understand. Before you could respond, she stood, towering over you, her presence filling the room. She moved closer, her gaze still locked onto yours—intense, but now tinged with curiosity rather than scrutiny.

“So, tell me,” she said, her voice dropping to an almost teasing whisper. “Do you think you can handle someone like me?"

Oh! You handled it well, not even 2 hours of conversation, you were already pushing your head between her legs, you weren't surprised that she was so submissive, those big puppy eyes looking at you with such curiosity since she stepped into the room didn't fool you, but you can say was the best sex of your life.

You already played with Sevika's body in every way, strap, vibrator, anything you remembered having in the room, you were truly fascinated by Sevika's body, responding to even the slightest provocation

her mind? Too fuzzy to even make a sentence without letting out a moan or a sigh, of course, you as a prostitute were experienced, Sevika knew that, but damn, not that experienced, she already lost count of how many orgasms she had just that night, she stopped counting after the third one.

"Y-y...hmm..yeah baby...keep your tongue li-..like that..." sevika is losing her goddamn mind with you, shes fucking overstimulated mess, babette didn't lie, you are fucking special.

She swear that was seeing stars everytime your hot tongue licked her swollen clit, while your fingers hitting all the rights spots.

"Woah woah Vika, calm down, she is a most eating my fingers, I still need them later yk?" - you tease letting a little laugh while the sound of almost pornographic wet vagina - no. It was dripping, after about ten minutes sevika reached the climax, and at the same time her time was up. You give a small kiss on her pussy, as a farewell, but before you could say anything, sevika pulls you for a kiss.

The room was quiet now, filled only with the fading hum of soft jazz in the background and the occasional creak of the bed as you shifted against the pillows. Sevika sat at the edge of the bed, her posture loose and unguarded, her mechanical arm resting heavily in her lap as she carefully poured water from the jug on the nightstand into a glass.

You watched her silently, still catching your breath, the weight of everything that had just happened leaving you warm and buzzing. The vulnerability Sevika had shown—seeing her let go, let you take control—was something you hadn’t imagined. Yet now, she was the one moving around, fussing over you.

She handed you the glass, her fingers brushing against yours. Her cheeks were still a little flushed, a light sheen of sweat catching the low glow of the room’s dim lighting.

“You know,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you took a sip of the water, “shouldn’t I be the one doing the aftercare here? You’re the one who got ruined, after all.”

Sevika shot you a look, her lips quirking up into a small, tired smirk. “Shut up,” she muttered, but there was no real bite to her words. She reached for a clean cloth, dipping it into the bowl of warm water she’d set aside, and turned back to you.

“Seriously,” you teased, watching her gently wring out the cloth. “You’re not supposed to be up and about after that. You’re supposed to be the one lying down, looking like you just got wrecked.”

Sevika let out a low chuckle, shaking her head as she leaned closer, brushing the damp cloth along your collarbone with surprising gentleness. Her movements were careful, her touch soft as she wiped away the remnants of sweat, cum and split from your skin.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost tender. “But I’m not the kind of person who just… sits there and lets someone else do everything. Besides”—her smirk widened—“you earned this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound light and almost disbelieving. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, her gaze softening as it met yours. “I’ve been told.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Sevika continued her careful ministrations, her hand steady even as exhaustion began to tug at her features. There was something deeply intimate about the way she tended to you.

When she was done, she set the cloth aside and sat back, looking at you with a rare softness in her expression. “You good?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant.

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, I’m good, and you?”

Sevika reached out then, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Good,” she said simply, her voice rough but warm.

As she leaned back, you couldn’t resist one last quip. “Still think I should’ve been the one cleaning you up, though. You looked like you could barely stand for a second there.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, but the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “Keep talking, and I’ll leave you to clean up on your own next time,” she muttered, though the smirk playing on her lips said otherwise.

You laughed softly, pulling her down beside you and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Sev.”

Her mechanical arm clinked softly as she shifted closer, her body relaxing against yours. For now, there were no walls, no façades—just the quiet warmth of her presence and the promise of moments like this to come.

[haveihitanerve]

WHEN?!?!?!

And I mean WHEN were y'all gonna tell me that actually AJ is about two-three years younger than the rest of the guys and that they(Tom specifically, I have no evidence of the other two) call him their “man-baby”?????

Also this means- i never thought i’d say it- but that makes AJ very lucky he’s bald- otherwise i feel like the young jokes would be out of this world????-

but ALSO-?!?!? 

WHy doesn't he make old jokes????

Sam forgets a name? “Oh its ok, hey, memory worsens with age.”  Luke struggles to stand? “Take your time, those old man joints must be hurting you.”  Tom is being mean? “Woah there gramps, slow your roll.” 

Just just- the old jokes!!!!

“Do you remember where you are?(my name is AJ- this is the stage” said really slowly and exaggeratedly, etc etc)” “Is it time to take your medicine?” “Oh do you need me to mash that up for you first before you can eat it?” (while miming) “do you want your cane?” “old. Lady. margaery.” “I heard those knees creak” “don't hurt yourself!” (while doing the most mundane activity) “is it time for your nap?”  “want help up the stairs? We can rest if you need to- *promptly ducks before getting smacked*”

Or the reverse-

“back in my day.” “hey whippersnapper.” “oh how it would feel to be young again.” “little tyke” “hey don't say that! There are children present! *gestures to AJ*” “hey! You're not old enough to be drinking that-” “oh is it time for your nap?”(payback) 

(also i do realize that when AJ did a cartwheel Tom casually said “hes in his mid thirties give him a second.” as if he weren't also mid-thirties, older????)

anyway- in case you didnt know--- tada!!! now you do. and if you did- how dare you let this information not be spread to the world??? anyway lol i just think its funny, especially since i never let my friends rest, even tho they're only like a few months older- so many old jokes its insane lol

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay not that he needs it but what a ego boost it would be if sebastian stumbled upon mc and ominis talking about the guy she likes and she just like he's so out of my league listing positive traits (cue sebastian getting very jealous) Only for ominis to be like just tell sebastian then I don't have to hear you wine about it all the timee

Eavesdropping

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Love Confessions, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

The stone door of the Undercroft groaned softly as Sebastian pushed it open, stepping carefully inside. He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. He had snuck out after curfew, hoping to release some pent-up frustration with a few dueling spells.

He was halfway down the stairs when he froze. Voices—two of them—floated up from below.

Sebastian frowned, his grip tightening on the banister. He recognized them instantly. You and Ominis.

What were you doing here so late? He edged closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“I just don’t see the point,” your voice echoed softly. “It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the banister. His brow furrowed. What wasn’t going to happen?

“It won’t if you keep dragging your feet,” Ominis replied, his tone dry as ever.

“It’s not that simple,” you shot back warily.

Sebastian tilted his head, curiosity sparking to life alongside a strange, uneasy feeling in his chest. You sounded frustrated—almost pained. What could possibly have you so worked up?

“It is that simple. You’ve been in love with him for years,” Ominis said, his tone cutting. “Merlin, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve had this conversation. Either do something about it, or stop talking about it.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped. In love? You’d never mentioned anyone. Not once.

“There's nothing I can do, Ominis,” you said, exasperated. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully. Who was this mysterious he? Why hadn’t you told him about this before? You usually told him everything.

“And how would you know?” Ominis challenged.

“Because I know him,” you replied firmly. “We’re best friends!”

Sebastian’s chest tightened, a painful mix of jealousy and confusion swirling inside him. Best friends? You were his best friend. Who could possibly come before him in your life?

“Right,” Ominis said sarcastically. “Because you’re so unremarkable.”

“Ominis,” you groaned, “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “Half the school is in love with you, and you’re acting like you’re some invisible wallflower.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Ominis wasn’t wrong. People were drawn to you—how could they not be? But you’d never seemed to notice, much less care. And now you were sitting here, pouring your heart out about someone who clearly wasn’t him.

You sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and tinged with a hint of defeat. “It doesn’t matter what the rest of the school thinks when he’s completely out of my league, Ominis. With his stupidly handsome face and that ridiculous smile that makes it impossible to think straight…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Merlin, he’s just… he’s everything. Funny, clever, brave, loyal—he could have anyone he wanted.”

For a moment, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under Sebastian’s feet. How could you possibly think that? How could you believe, even for a second, that you weren’t good enough for whoever this bloke was? And the worst part—the part that made his chest ache—was that he couldn’t step in. He couldn’t tell you how wrong you were because he wasn’t supposed to be listening this in the first place.

“And?” Ominis prompted.

“And what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“You’re always going on about how wonderful he is, which, I’ll admit, I struggle to agree with,” Ominis said with a dry chuckle. “But you never actually tell me how he makes you feel. Isn’t that the important part? Does it matter how... how handsome and funny he is if he doesn't make you feel something special?”

You hesitated, your voice soft and uncertain when you finally spoke. “He… I don’t know. He makes me feel safe, Ominis. Like no matter what’s going on, as long as he’s there, I’ll be okay. And he makes me feel seen. Really seen. Like I don’t have to be the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ or ‘the girl with ancient magic.’ I don’t have to be anything except… me. He knows me in a way nobody else does. And when I’m with him, it’s like—for once—I don’t have to prove anything.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more painful. Because that’s how he felt about you. You were his safe place, the one person who saw him as more than the brash, reckless troublemaker everyone else thought he was.

And now… now he was realizing that someone else held that place for you.

Ominis huffed a laugh, breaking the silence that followed your confession. “You know, it’s almost tragic.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What’s tragic?”

“That it’s him you’ve fallen for,” Ominis said, his voice laced with dry amusement. “Of all the people in Hogwarts—all the people who would gladly worship the ground you walk on—you’ve managed to lose your head over the most chaotic, reckless, insufferable person I know.”

Your jaw dropped, and a laugh bubbled out of you despite your embarrassment. “Ominis!”

“I’m serious,” he said, smirking. “You could have anyone. Anyone. And yet you’ve decided to pine after someone who probably doesn’t even realize you feel this way because he’s too busy rushing headlong into whatever absurd plan pops into his head.”

You groaned again, shaking your head. “You don’t have to rub it in, Ominis.”

“Well, I do,” he replied, grinning. “Because clearly, he’s too thick to notice, and you’re too stubborn to tell him. I’m the one stuck in the middle of this ridiculous mess, forced to play mediator while you both dance around each other like idiots.”

Sebastian felt like his chest was going to collapse. The way Ominis spoke so casually about this guy—teasing, almost affectionate—was like a knife twisting deeper into his gut. Whoever you were in love with wasn’t just close to you. They were close to Ominis, too.

Who the hell is it?

Sebastian's mind raced through the possibilities, his thoughts a chaotic mess of jealousy and dread. It had to be someone you spent a lot of time with, someone you trusted enough to feel safe around, someone who was close enough to Ominis that he could make jokes about their recklessness.

And then it clicked.

Garreth Weasley.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped. Of course it was Garreth. It made perfect sense.

Garreth was charming, clever, and funny. He had that easygoing, confident smile that always seemed to draw people in. He was loyal, too—always ready to back up his friends, even if it meant landing himself in trouble. And he had that playful, carefree energy that made everyone want to be around him.

Sebastian felt sick.

Of course she loves Garreth. Why wouldn’t she?

He thought back to all the times he’d seen the two of you together—laughing in the Great Hall, chatting during potions class, exchanging those little looks that he’d tried to tell himself didn’t mean anything.

But they did mean something, didn’t they?

And then there was Ominis. Ominis liked Garreth well enough, didn’t he? He put up with Garreth’s antics, even joined in on the occasional joke. If you were in love with Garreth, it explained why Ominis was teasing you so mercilessly.

It all fit together too perfectly.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. He wanted to hate Garreth—wanted to hate him for being everything Sebastian wasn’t, for being the kind of person you could fall for so easily.

But he couldn’t hate Garreth. Not really. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that he was so damn likable. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that Sebastian had been too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.

He pressed his back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes and letting out a slow, shaky breath.

I’ve lost her, he thought bitterly. I never even had her, and I’ve already lost her.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Ominis,” you continued on, your voice quieter now, tinged with frustration and something far more raw. “If I could stop loving him, don’t you think I would have by now? Believe me, I’ve tried,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve told myself it’s just a stupid crush, that it doesn’t matter, but it does. And no matter what I do, I can’t… I can’t make it go away.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Ominis asked, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. “What are you so afraid of?”

You groaned, the sound laden with frustration. “Because it doesn’t matter! He doesn’t like me back, Ominis. I’d destroy our friendship for nothing!”

Sebastian’s heart clenched painfully, the bitter sting of your self-doubt twisting something deep inside him. How could you think so little of yourself? How could you not see what he saw when he looked at you?

Ominis let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think he deserves you,” he muttered. “Merlin knows he’s well aware he doesn’t deserve you. But you can’t decide his feelings for him. That’s not how it works.”

You scoffed. “Your point?”

“I’m just saying,” Ominis replied, his tone exasperated, “that you’re doing both of you a disservice. It’s… it’s getting to the point where something has to give. Either you tell him how you feel, or—”

“Or what?” you interrupted, glaring at him.

“Or I will,” Ominis said firmly, his expression unyielding.

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Ominis said, his smirk returning. “I’m tired of watching you both suffer in silence. Merlin knows Sebastian’s too dense to work it out on his own. Maybe hearing it outright will knock some sense into him.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

It’s me.

The thought hit Sebastian like a stunning spell, freezing him in place as the pieces of the conversation finally fell into place. Every word, every hint, every exasperated sigh from Ominis—it all pointed to the same answer, one that he’d been too blind, too self-critical, to see.

You were talking about him.

You were in love with him.

His breath hitched, and his grip on the banister tightened as his heart pounded so loudly he was certain you and Ominis would hear it. The jealousy, the doubt, the sharp ache in his chest—all of it melted away, replaced by a dizzying mix of disbelief, relief, and something far brighter: hope. Because you loved him.

“I mean it,” Ominis was saying now, his tone both firm and teasing. “If you won’t tell him, I will. Frankly, I’m tired of sitting through these endless heart-to-hearts when the solution is so obvious.”

You groaned, your frustration evident. “Ominis, I swear—”

“Do it, or I’ll make it the most public confession Hogwarts has ever seen,” Ominis threatened, though the smirk on his face made it clear he was only half-serious.

Sebastian couldn’t stay silent any longer. His feet moved before his mind caught up, carrying him down the remaining steps until he was standing in the open, his gaze fixed on you.

“Ominis won’t have to say a word,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside him.

You and Ominis both turned toward him, your expression contorting into shock while Ominis grinned.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, your eyes wide.

Ominis crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “Ah, there you are."

Sebastian ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Everything you just said… is it true?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Your gaze flickered to Ominis, as if silently cursing him, before returning to Sebastian. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he admitted, taking a step closer.

You flushed, your hands twisting nervously at your sides. “Sebastian, I—”

“Just tell me,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, your breath hitching, before finally nodding. “Yes."

For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at you, his heart so full he thought it might burst. And then, without thinking, he reached for your hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re in love with me?”

Your cheeks burned, but you held his gaze, your voice trembling as you said, “I am."

For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at you, his heart so full he thought it might burst. And then, without thinking, he reached for your hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“I love you, too,” he said simply, the words spilling from his lips like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember."

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. “You… you do?”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I do. More than anything.”

Ominis cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Well, now that that’s settled, perhaps you two can finally stop making my life so unbearably dramatic.”

Sebastian shot him a look, but there was no real anger behind it. For once, he was too happy, too relieved to care about Ominis’ meddling.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything left unsaid finally lifted. And then, with a soft, almost hesitant smile, Sebastian tilted his head and closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was certain.

When the kiss broke, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, his smile soft but unshakably certain. “You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. And as you laughed, the sound light and filled with a joy you hadn’t felt in years, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[ylangelegy]

svt as haikyuu!! characters 🏐 maknae line.

★ footnotes: i've had this conversation with at least three different people (i.e. a, aspen, viv), but i've only now gotten around to my personal alignments. this is inspired by @heartepub's seventeen if they were in ghibli posts— and is therefore dedicated to her. xo

"KEEP YOUR EYES FORWARD, BECAUSE YOU HAVE ME GUIDING YOUR BACKS!" — chan as yu nishinoya.

boisterous, energetic, temperamental. considerate of his peers despite his shenanigans. loud and tactless. fired up off-court; locked in the moment the game starts. "if we fall, let's fall forward!"

"A DEFENSE WITH NO HOLES DOESN'T EXIST." — vernon as wakatoshi ushijima.

quiet and stoic. has no doubts about his team. blunt, but not rude. unintentionally funny. never sugarcoats or minces his words. "even if i wasn't lucky, i think i still would have worked just as hard."

"STOP IMMEDIATELY PICKING FIGHTS WITH PEOPLE; IT MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT." — seungkwan as morisuke yaku.

no-bullshit. honest and straightforward. the most hardworking person you'll know. always looks out for his team. short-tempered. "you know, getting nicks and bruises… that's the same as breathing for me."

"I'M LIKE A MORTAL WHO'S STUMBLED UPON A MONSTER'S BANQUET. LUCKY ME." — minghao as shinsuke kita.

self-assured. cares deeply despite his demeanor. logical, mature. the voice of reason. highly observant. believer in diligence and perseverance. "i am built upon the small things i do everyday, and the end results are no more than a byproduct of that."

"THERE AIN'T NO SUCH THING AS MEMORIES. ALL YOU NEED IS RIGHT HERE." — mingyu as atsumu miya.

outwardly carefree and confident. strives to be the best. extremely sensitive. competitive; hates to lose. says it like it is. knows what he wants. "what matters is this— what are we gonna do today?"

"MY WEAPON IS RELIABILITY. BUT... I'M CAPABLE OF NEW TRICKS, TOO!" — seokmin as koshi sugawara.

the mood-maker. a pillar to lean on. he doesn't want to have regrets in the future. can be mischievous. prideful when it matters. love for the game, love for the people. "i want to stay here longer; i want to stay with these guys."

BONUS:

mingyu as atsumu post-timeskip osamu miya. most likely to open up a restaurant of his own (aptly named 'onigiri mingyu'). he loves you; he wants the both of you to eat well.

[ashton-sano]

Too close to the stars, I Never knew somebody like you, somebody~

Now Playing🎼♬ ♪ ♫:

Blue lock boys in: Your Loving Boyfriend Husband who has a soft spot for you

Characters included: Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Shoei Barou

There’s less characters so more words, yey :3 (lowercase intentional)

Itoshi rin is a weird guy all things considered. he prides himself in his calm and cool demeanor and refusal to engage in his emotions for the most part, no bachira doesn’t count, he’s a moron. He says this and lives it to a T daily, so it’s always funny to see how fast he forgets to be calm and collected Itoshi rin when you get your hands in his hair. it’s weird to see in action. he hates everything and everyone when he’s practicing, brushing off his teammates and waving off hanging out with them if asked.

“as if id hang out with lukewarm trash.”

he plays mean and harsh and yet always melts into your touch when he gets home, he goes on about how “lukewarm” practice went, the idiocy of his teammates irritating him. he says it bitterly yet with how his face is pressed into your stomach, it sounds more like slow incoherent mumbling into your skin. he hardly notices how his fingers sink into the plush of your legs, kneading like second nature. you nod along but your focus is mainly on how docile he looks while grumbling, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to keep awake against your warmth.

some time between highschool and now must’ve given you enough time to soften him out, he doesn’t even know how you got him in the matching onesie. he swore he was still passed out on your bosom, how the hell did you have him posing for silly pictures. to be fair he looked more dazed than anything in the photo so it was hardly a pose. didn’t matter, you were smiling wide so he didn’t question how it looked or where it’d go. (the teasing at practice tomorrow made him slightly regret that)

Itoshi sae didn’t mind indulging your requests, silly as they were indeed. try as he might, no matter how much he steels himself over and swears not to, he caves under your gaze and sweet voice. before he knew it, he was doing everything he just said he wouldn’t because it’s like sacrilege to tell you no. from stupid amusement parks to clay making and running his blood sugar stupid high with sweets that he’ll definitely hear about from his dietitian. speaking of, he’s totally firing that moron; who does that guy think he is telling him not to consume more sweets under his wife’s request?

“unhealthy? try unemployed, you useless pain. my wife says it’s fine, so it is.”

it’s probably worse than he thought. there’s not a thing he does that doesn’t have your name in it. even when you’re nowhere to be seen, you’re his best excuse to leave interaction.

‘meeting be damned, i need my wife more so reschedule.’

‘tell that lady to wait, my wife is calling.’

‘im waiting for my WIFE, yes, im MARRIED.’

if you actually saw it, you’d still be awestruck. he never opens his mouth to tell you about this but everyone you meet knows you. the store workers, his manager, everyone who knows him will know you’re his wife. he’s the kindest person for you, everyone else can wait.

Barou shoei is peak househusband, argue with the wall. everyone sees him as the toxic and red flag type but he’s nothing if not considerate for you. don’t openly point it out, he will deny. he loves his family hard and plenty, so once you’re a part of that such extends to you. his sisters love you, truly and he’s grateful for that, his favorite girls getting along does make him content.

he never bothers just telling you he loves you, it’s easier to see when he interacts with you. actions are better in that regard so it makes sense. he gives you nothing but the best. he’s always cleaning up and such, you never have to worry about it when you come home. AND the laundry while cooking dinner? is there something he can’t do? he grumbles but never complains even when you forget to clean for the millionth time, or accidentally mess up dinner or stain the carpet with some harsh juice. you’re his wife, of course it’s okay to make mistakes. he actually insists on doing all the chores, he claims that it’s only because he does it better but he’s whipped. what man lets his wife do all that work while he lazes? Inadequate

“just worry about your work, don’t even think about a chore. hey! you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

a king is nothing if his queen is unhappy. that’s how he justifies it anyway. it almost makes you feel bad with how he works all day at practice then comes home and cleans tirelessly. when you asked his sisters, they assure you that it’s his love language and you’d argue with that but he seems content being so helpful so you leave it be. . a bit of help here and there doesn’t hurt though. don’t let him catch you though, he’ll chastise you back to bed like a mother hen. so maybe no chores, heh.

-> Property of ©ashton-sano; Don't post my content on any other platform without credit; much love^^

[cruel-seduction]

Peter Teases You About Your Favorite Superhero Crush (Not Him)

It all started when you casually mentioned your love for a certain fictional superhero while you and Peter were sprawled out on your couch, legs tangled together in your usual cozy way. You were scrolling through a Pinterest board, showing him random outfits, memes, and—without thinking—a fanart of your favorite superhero, Nightblade, the shadowy, brooding vigilante from that one movie series you’d been obsessed with lately.

“Wait, who’s that?” Peter asked, craning his neck to get a better look at your phone.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “Uh... no one important,” you mumbled, trying to scroll past it.

“Oh, no one important?” Peter snatched your phone faster than you could react, his reflexes annoyingly good as always. He tilted the screen, inspecting the art. “Nightblade?” he read aloud, a teasing grin already forming.

“Give it back, Peter!” you said, lunging for the phone, but he held it out of your reach, his other hand pressing into your shoulder to hold you back effortlessly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, laughing as he twisted his body to keep the phone away from you. “Is this... your superhero crush? Oh my god, you’re blushing!”

Your cheeks burned hotter as you smacked his chest. “Shut up! I am not blushing!”

“Oh, you so are,” Peter teased, lowering your phone just enough to waggle it in your face. “Look at you! You’re like a tomato. This is adorable.”

“Peter!” you whined, burying your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment.

Peter leaned closer, still grinning like the smug menace he was. “Okay, okay, hold on. I need to understand this. Nightblade? Really? The guy who skulks around on rooftops and growls at people? That’s your type?”

You groaned, refusing to look at him. “He’s cool, okay? And... and mysterious. And—ugh, you wouldn’t get it!”

“Oh, I get it,” Peter said, his voice dripping with mock understanding. “You’re into the whole dark, brooding, ‘I work alone’ vibe. Got it. But, babe, have you met me? I literally do the rooftop thing all the time. Should I start growling at bad guys now? Would that make me hotter?”

“Shut up, Peter,” you said, reaching out to shove his chest lightly. “It’s not like that.”

But he wasn’t letting up. If anything, your reaction just fueled him further.

“‘It’s not like that,’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, scooting closer to you on the couch.

You peeked at him through your fingers, your face still burning. “Stop it!”

But Peter was on a roll now. He threw your phone onto the couch and stood up, dramatically deepening his voice as he struck a ridiculous pose. “I am Nightblade,” he intoned, his attempt at a gravelly tone making him sound more like he had a sore throat. “Justice is my shadow. The night is my ally.”

You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at him. “You’re so dumb!”

Peter caught the pillow mid-air, grinning as he tossed it aside. “Dumb? Dumb? Babe, you’re the one who has a crush on a fictional guy who probably hasn’t smiled since birth. Meanwhile, you’ve got me—a real superhero who’s funny, charming, and, might I add, great with parents.”

“Oh my god, Peter,” you said, covering your face again as your laugh bubbled out.

He plopped back down on the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “I’m not saying I’m jealous,” he said, though the teasing lilt in his voice suggested otherwise. “But I mean... come on. I’ve got to be at least, like, 10% cooler than this guy, right?”

You peeked up at him, still flustered but smiling now. “I dunno,” you said, your voice playful. “Nightblade does have a pretty sweet cape.”

Peter gasped, hand flying to his chest like you’d just stabbed him. “A cape? Oh, come on! Capes are a tripping hazard. I could make one if I wanted, but I don’t because I have common sense.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “And he’s got these cool shadow powers.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer with a mock-insulted expression. “Shadow powers? Pfft. Lame. I’ve got webs, babe. Webs. I can swing through the city, catch bad guys, and tie up robbers in little cocoons. I can tie you up and you know you enjoy it, What can he do? Stand in the dark and look angsty?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of your head. “Peter, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching yours now. “Ridiculous is you choosing him over me! What does he have that I don’t?”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “Well, there’s the expression—”

“Oh, here we go with the expression again.”

“And the muscles.”

Peter flopped back against the couch, groaning loudly. “You’re killing me, Y/N. Absolutely killing me.”

You giggled, poking his side. “And don’t forget the way he says, ‘I can do this all day.’ So iconic.”

That made Peter shoot upright again, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Okay, first of all, I also say cool stuff when I’m fighting bad guys.”

“Like what?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

Peter paused, clearly scrambling for a good answer. “Uh… ‘Hey, buddy, quit stealing stuff!’”

You burst out laughing, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Oh, yeah. Super inspiring, Peter. Definitely gives Steve a run for his money.”

You tried to stifle your laughter, but it spilled out anyway. “You’re impossible,” you said, lightly smacking his chest.

Peter grabbed your hand before you could pull it away, bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss. “And yet, you love me,” he said smugly.

“Don’t push it,” you warned, though your smile betrayed you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “And to be honest. It’s not like that! I just think he’s… you know… nice-looking.”

“Nice-looking?” Peter repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Nice-looking.” He pointed at himself. “Have you seen me? I mean, I don’t want to brag or anything, but…” He flexed his arm in the most over-the-top way, clearly showing off.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself.”

He leaned closer, that teasing smirk never faltering. “I’m just saying, if you wanted a guy with abs, you could’ve just told me”

And then you flexed your non existent biceps “Yours is not better than mine, Pete”

Peter chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “True true. Seriously, though. You can crush on Nightblade all you want, but just remember: he’s not the one sitting next to you, eating leftover pizza and looking ridiculously cute in sweatpants.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks still warm as you leaned into him. “Fine, you win,” you said softly.

Peter’s grin widened, and he pulled you even closer, resting his chin on your head. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head as his teasing finally softened. Sure, Nightblade was cool, but Peter Parker? He is your superhero. 

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

#ALSO GET SOME EFFING RUNNING SHOES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD#you can seriously fuck up your knees and ankles running in $7 sandshoes#it’s not worth it#entry level running shoes start at as low as $30-40AUD and if you’re seriously getting into running they are worth the money

@wrenthetitmouse your tags pass peer review and are SO RIGHT great job.

hey! do you have any tips for running more? i have a love-hate relationship with it

YES!

I used to DESPISE running SO HARD. I've been running for seven years now, off and on (a LOT more off than on lol), but its only been in the last ten months that I really and truly have fallen in love with it!

Number one tip is to get a running app, really and truly! They're great for getting training plans to run to, holding you accountable, and tracking your progress! Seriously, it is SO AWESOME to get to see your stats improve over time, its so rewarding and wonderful! I've never personally used it, but my mom uses Nike Run Club, which she highly reccomends, so if you're looking for a simple, streamlined one to start with, go take a look at that!

btw have you heard of this special one called Zombies, Run!? Its a running app that is also an immersive audio drama that makes you feel like the main character in a video game and has singlehandedly gotten me from despising running to loving it- Oh, you have? okay then.... i mean,,,, if youre interested,,, i have an entire sideblog for it,,,, you could send me some asks about it,,,, i'd love to comply...

But seriously ZR has changed my life, I'm being totally serious here. I could elaborate if you'd like, but long story short, I am in the best physical and mental shape of my life bc of this silly zombie app with blorbos in it, so yeah, never gonna stop talking about it lol.

But the reason why that works, is that it makes running fun! Because lets all be honest, running for more than three minutes on a treadmill with no stimulation at all and nothing to think about besides the fact that you're running and that sucks is the WORST. And doing it outside is better because you're actually going somewhere and see things, but its still monotonus and then you're just lasered in on the 'running is horrible' part after a bit longer.

ZR is utterly brilliant because you are physically incapable of being bored while playing it lol. You're not running a mile away from your house then a mile back, you're charging through the streets of an abandonded city, holding a life-saving cure, your best friend in your headset imploring you to keep going as zombies approach, while having the survival of your fellow runner depend on you as they limp from their injury. It is THRILLING and takes your mind off of what you are doing.

BUT MOVING AWAY FROM ZR NOW FINALLY (sorry i really am obsessed)--

It works because you aren't thinking about running. So that's the cheat code, figure out how to run without thinking about what your body is doing and how it feels icky sometimes. You've gotta learn to be very motivated but then also INCREIDIBLY disciplined in order to stick to it. Find some music that makes you feel like you're in a superhero movie (I have some recs if you'd like!!), find a podcast that is super interesting on a topic that you adore, even go running with friends and talk to them about fandom stuff while running!

Find tools to take your mind off of it that works most of the time, and the in the small fraction of the time where you still don't want to do it, learn the discipline to follow through anyway.

But also, I've found that the main reason running stinks, at least at first, is your body isn't used to it. Really! Whether you haven't worked out in your entire life ever, or if you are considered one of the fittest people on the planet in like swimming or something, running is SUPER hard and super terrible at first because you aren't used to it! Even if you are super fit and healthy, the hard cardio and movement that running requires is just very different from everything else! So anyone getting into running ever should NEVER feel bad about themselves when they're just starting! Because it is a seperate and unique thing in its own category that is special and different! It is scientifically proven that it takes 6-10 weeks of running 10-20 miles a week before your body adjusts and then you're used to it.

But guess what? One day, you're going to be running, and suddenly realize that it is magic. You'll realize that you don't have to stop to walk when you usually do- you can go longer than you have before. You'll realize that wait, you can go faster now! Your pace is faster! And then you'll feel a rush of adrenaline and endorphins and oh! THIS is what they mean when they say runners high! You understand why its called is the healthiest addicting drug in the world now! You'll realize that you have a huge smile breaking out on your face and the scenery is gorgeous, even if its in a dark smelly gym, because you're doing it- you're running! And you love it.

Anyone reading this, please give running a good, earnest shot. Lace up your shoes three or four days a week and go jog two or three miles. Keep at it for two months. It'll be a hard two months. But it'll be so so worth it. Just try. What have you got to lose?

Running is magic, and now I'll never give it up.