#fixing this stupid plot to be less stupid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojiscrack · 24 days ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃

summary: 11.3k words — your obsession over a cartoon television show allows you to get closer to people you hadn’t suspected to hold the same interest as you. meanwhile, megumi confronts something he’d been unknowingly dreading.

notes: hey :)

tw: swearing, threats, mentions of hypothermia

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"why do we even have an episode where juleka gets akumatized?" satoru demanded, exaggeratedly pointing at the wide television screen as miraculous: tales of ladybug and cat noir (specifically the reflekta episode) continued to play before you. "we can barely even hear her speak in a regular episode, and now that she's got the confidence to talk after nineteen of them, it's to flex her useless power."

you sat beside him on the floor, your legs crossed as you deliberately avoided looking at the ungraded papers satoru had carelessly scattered across the couch, spilling onto the ground around you.

"stupid juleka," you grumbled in agreement. "could've redeemed herself with a better power."

"this entire show doesn't make any sense," megumi added from somewhere behind you.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, eyes narrowed in offence.

"shut up porcupine," you scoffed, but his gaze was already fixed elsewhere, like he couldn't care less about your reaction, though you knew very well that he did.

megumi, of course, would constantly refuse to watch the show whenever you brought it up, claiming it was too 'unrealistic' for his taste. but despite his complaints, he never left when you and satoru watched it together. instead, he'd stick around, always ready to interrupt with some unsolicited critique, as if his constant commentary was absolutely necessary despite never being asked for.

it was annoying.

he'd scoff, make remarks, and roll his eyes at every plot twist. but you knew that if he had just given the show a chance, he would have been more invested than he'd ever care to admit.

"it's literally a work of fiction, it's not meant to make sense in real life," you added, turning back to the screen and scowling when reflekta began shooting at the heroes and caught the second hero.

"it's delusion," you heard him retort, and then laughed when his mother (who had been silently chopping up vegetables in the kitchen) lightly scolded him.

"megumi, either watch the show silently, or leave," she said, though not unkindly, and you did not need to turn around to sense that megumi was shooting her a glare.

perhaps it wasn't as powerful as the ones he'd give you, yuji, or nobara, for he knew better than to disrespect his own mom.

"no," you heard him respond, sounding defensive and annoyed. "you don't get it. the show's so stupid — how have none of the characters in the show figured their identities out?"

his mom sighed. "i don't know, megumi. i'm not the creator, am i?"

but megumi wasn't done proving his point yet:

"they wear one mask across the eyes and all of a sudden they're a whole different person. why can't they cover their whole face or change their voices? why can't they change their hair colour?"

"he's getting defensive 'cause everyone would recognise him behind a mask," you whispered, leaning closer to satoru so that he could hear you clearly over the sounds of megumi's low complaints and the noise from the television.

the white haired male met your gaze with a bemused smile. "why do you say that?"

you pointed at your own head. "his hair's like a lion's mane —"

"i can hear you," megumi snapped.

"good," you shot back, eyes on the television again.

megumi inhaled sharply, already gearing up for a rebuttal — probably some half-hearted attempt to defend himself or deflect the insult. but before he could get a word out, satoru cut in with a loud, exaggerated gasp.

"wait, wait, shh — this might just be the best part!" he announced, suddenly leaning forwards as if the episode had just taken a groundbreaking turn.

it hadn't.

but the dramatic way he had clapped a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide with feigned anticipation, was enough to make megumi scowl and reluctantly drop whatever argument he was about to start.

"never mind," satoru pouted, leaning back against the foot of the couch again. "i thought she'd redeem herself; how can a supervillain be so weak?"

"she's not weak," megumi grumbled. "ladybug's just dumb."

"ladybug's not dumb!" you responded easily, watching as the character in question tried to make use of her partner who was, more or less, deemed useless now. "her lucky charm gives her unhelpful stuff and she always finds a way to use it. if it were me, i'd just give up."

but megumi did not agree. "she is dumb. she couldn't even figure out cat noir's voice when he turned into another copy of reflekta."

from the kitchen, the faint clinking of dishes with the low hum of the television barely masked the exasperation in mrs fushiguro's voice when she'd started lightly scolding her son again. though quiet, the gentle rise and fall of her tone carried a familiar patience, the kind reserved for conversations she knew would lead nowhere.

megumi was so firm on his stance with this show that you knew her gentle chiding would be of no use. even then, you could appreciate that her gentle scolding had a rhythm to it — an attempt to soften his stubbornness, to nudge him towards keeping an open mind. but even without looking, it was obvious to you that megumi would not listen.

you imagined him sitting up straight, posture tense with the same quiet defiance he always held when faced with opinions that didn't align with his own.

apparently he was just always right.

she gave up after some time, which made sense. you had predicted it; you could tell that satoru had predicted it too.

the man next to you let out a laugh.

"look, megumi, i can convince you that this show's pretty realistic," he'd said, with an air of confidence that you couldn't quite relate to.

it had piqued the interest of everyone in the room, including megumi's mom, who had slowed the sharpening of the large kitchen knife just to watch curiously as satoru pulled out his black blindfold from the mess of papers behind him.

what is he doing? you thought to yourself, as the odd male had begun tying it around his eyes, resulting in his white hair sticking up like pineapple leaves.

but before anyone could utter a word, he had turned to you with a lazy grin.

"if i put this on, would you be able to tell that it's me?" he asked, as the sound of megumi's scoff travelled around the open space.

you gave it a thought, picturing megumi's visible annoyance at your answer, and then shook your head with a smile. "no, i wouldn't —"

"you're both dumb —"

"— megumi," his mom was quick to rebuke.

just as the heated debate began to start again, the sharp chime of the doorbell rang through the house, cutting through the voices in the living room. it was a brief sound, one that should have gone unnoticed with how engaged everyone was, but for some reason, it seemed louder than it should have been.

the steady rhythm of megumi's mother's knife sharpening slowed as she glanced towards the entrance, her brow lifting slightly in mild surprise. the quiet hum of the television carried on, and she exhaled, wiping her hands on a nearby dish towel before glancing up at satoru.

"satoru, can you get that?" she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

satoru, still reclined against the couch, shook his head immediately.

"i can't," he said, matter-of-factly. "i need to witness every second of reflekta's performance to properly judge her weak powers. otherwise, it's not a fair trial."

she sighed — long-suffering, patient — as though she had heard this kind of excuse before. without another word, she made a move towards the door, her footsteps light against the wooden flooring.

"i'll do it, mom," megumi offered, sliding off the stool he'd been sitting on.

"no, not you," she immediately responded, waving a hand at him as she walked around the breakfast table to make her way out of the open kitchen. "or you," she added, shooting you a sharp look as the person behind the door began knocking harder and harder each time. the polite chime of the bell had been forgotten, replaced by an urgency that made the walls tremble slightly under the force of it.

"i didn't even say anything!" you frowned, disheartened.

"why can't i answer it?" said megumi, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"because i know you," she answered simply. "whenever you're even the slightest bit annoyed, you say whatever comes to mind, and i can't deal with upset strangers again — yes, i'm here, i'm here!"

with another sigh, she yanked the door open, already bracing herself for whatever disaster awaited. the sight behind it, however, had her blinking in disbelief.

and you, still sat by the tv, barely stifled a snort.

mrs daphne, your middle-aged and unfriendly neighbour, stood on the doorstep, her robe — once a pristine pastel pink — now covered in dirt, leaves, and what looked suspiciously like scrambled eggs. strands of her tightly permed hair had broken free, sticking out in wild tufts, and her face had been twisted in a scowl so deep, it could have curdled milk.

but the true spectacle had been the raccoon she held aloft by its tail, its beady eyes gleaming with mischief, little paws still clutching what appeared to be a pilfered croissant. the creature hung limply, swinging slightly in the air, as if entirely unbothered by the furious woman holding it hostage.

"oh, mrs daphne," mrs fushiguro gasped, staring at the furious woman before her in awe. "i — what...?"

but the woman's eyes, bloodshot, were darting from you to megumi and back again.

still, megumi's mother had been polite enough to calmly ask what had happened, and whether she needed to be invited inside:

"we could clean you up?" she suggested, her hand over her mouth in visible shock. "but... can i just ask... what happened?"

"i'll tell you what didn't happen," satoru intervened, brows raised seriously. "reflekta."

megumi's mom shot him a sharp look over her shoulder; satoru had turned his attention back to the tv as you bit back another snort.

it hadn't helped that the racoon had begun hissing loudly.

"i didn't know we had racoons in the neighbourhood," you commented innocently.

mrs daphne did not look the slightest bit pleased. her face had contorted in a way that, though familiar, looked like she had just soiled herself in public.

"i seriously doubt that," she'd stated, the smoke practically flying out of both her ears. "which one of you did this? i will —"

"can't accuse us without any proof," megumi interrupted her, scowling once his eyes had landed on the way she was holding the racoon.

it was you.

both of you, actually.

mrs daphne had held demon dog hostage, long enough to be late for the vet appointment the other day, and megumi had not taken that lightly.

the years of the ongoing ping-pong game of pranks between the two of you and mrs daphne had only fuelled his desire to get back at her, and with the help of yourself, the two of you had used the very racoon (that toji had been tired of dealing with it digging through the trash) to set it on mrs daphne's weekly tea party.

and you'd say that the plan had worked, judging by the dishevelled look she had rocked up to the fushiguros' door with.

"i don't need proof to know that it was you two devils," said mrs daphne, her eyes so wide, her pupils had almost become non-existent.

"we're not devils," you scoffed.

"yeah, you look like you got electrocuted," megumi added helpfully.

you glanced over your shoulder at your friend, raising a brow. the irony was almost laughable — his own hair perpetually stuck up at odd angles, defying gravity in a way that made him look like he'd lost a battle with an electrical socket himself.

"okay, i appreciate the help, porcupine, but you're embarrassing me," you muttered, avoiding mrs daphne's glare.

"megumi — no," his mom had immediately intervened, glancing back at her son as though she knew what his reaction to your comment would be.

she was right; megumi was going to shoot another insult back at you, uncaring of the fact that daphne was watching the entire thing, but at the firm look on his mother's gentle face, he reluctantly relented, choosing to shoot you a glower instead.

she turned back to your neighbour with a sigh.

"that's a really serious accusation, mrs daphne. are you quite certain that megumi and y/n did this to you? they've been watching tv —"

"— i wasn't watching that —"

"they've been watching tv," she continued over the sound of her son's grumpy voice, "all morning."

mrs daphne did not seem to appreciate mrs fushiguro's scepticism.

"you, me, and everyone else here knows damn well that it was them!" she exclaimed, nostrils flared as she shook the racoon by the tail.

careful, you thought in your head, megumi'll throw a tantrum at animal cruelty.

for a brief moment, there was silence — just the faint hum of the television filling the space.

from the living room, satoru had let out a long, drawn out, exaggerated groan, dramatically flopping back against the couch as if the fate of the world depended on whatever had been unfolding on the screen. the sound barely had time to settle before mrs daphne's grip on the racoon had tightened again, her lips curling into something dangerously close to a smirk.

"oh, you just wait," she said, voice dripping with promise. "you think this is funny? i'll show you funny. one day... i don't know when... but one day..."

"that's a threat," you stated blankly.

"against minors," megumi added, deadpanned.

mrs daphne's face twisted, the deep lines around her mouth pulling taut as her eye twitched violently. her nostrils flared with each sharp breath, and for a moment, it looked like she was physically restraining herself from launching into a full-blown tirade.

but megumi's mother, ever the patient one, had decided to gently put an end to the conversation entirely.

"okay, i'm sorry this happened to you, but my kids wouldn't do that," she said, her hand on the knob tightening as she made a move to close the door.

mrs daphne's grip on the racoon wavered — whether from fury or exhaustion was unclear — but the wild gleam in her eyes burned with pure, unfiltered exasperation, like a woman on the brink of either revenge or a nervous breakdown. one day, she had mouthed, as the door had closed shut on her face.

mrs fushiguro turned around, visibly stressed.

"what did you two do?"

a gasp of exaggerated offence caught in your throat as you clutched your chest, eyes widening in mock betrayal. you blinked up at mrs fushiguro, expression teetering between wounded innocence and theatrical disbelief, as if the mere suggestion of wrongdoing had personally shattered your moral code.

"we didn't do anything!" you lied, pouting.

behind you, megumi had barely reacted, arms still crossed, but you could feel his silent judgment.

"really?" said mrs fushiguro, her hands placed on her hips as she raised a sceptical brow at you. "so this isn't just a repeat of two weeks ago?"

"two weeks ago?" satoru repeated, averting his gaze from the television to glance between you and megumi. his hair had become slightly dishevelled because of the blindfold. "what happened two weeks ago?"

you averted your gaze, rubbing the back of your neck and avoiding the conversation altogether. you didn't have to look back to know that megumi had most likely done the same thing, or something similar to you.

two weeks ago, the both of you had accidentally replaced mrs daphne's prized herbal tea leaves with extra-strength laxative tea.

it had been a flawless execution — megumi had played lookout while you carefully swapped the contents of her tea tin during a rare moment she had left it unattended on her porch. and as for the result...

mrs daphne had spent an unfortunate amount of time locked in her bathroom during her weekly book club meeting, leaving her guests bewildered and concerned when she suddenly sprinted away mid-sentence, clutching her stomach with a look of sheer horror.

it hadn't helped that some of her guests were kind enough to wait for her to come out, only to sniff what was left of the faeces in the clogged toilet.

the two of you hadn't been allowed to see each other for the next few days, with the exception of friday night dinner at satoru's (and even then, you weren't allowed to sit next to, across, or even parallel to one another).

megumi's mom looked like she wanted to say what the two of you had done, and whether it was to appease satoru's curiosity or to shame you and megumi, you were unsure, but she had closed her mouth almost immediately once she had met the man-child's gaze. you couldn't blame her: putting ideas about laxatives in tea to satoru of all people was most likely not the greatest idea.

he liked to act stupid, but in reality, he was the most cunning.

after uncle ogi, of course.

"er... nothing," she sighed, patting down the unruly strands of her hair. "the usual stuff they do to that poor woman —"

"poor woman?" you repeated, your attention on the tv show before you practically diminishing even though satoru had mumbled something about it 'starting to get good', "we only did it 'cause she wrote really rude paragraphs about us under buttercup brew's reviews. and then said that she likes miss b, but she should get rid of us."

"and she made us late to demon dog's vet appointment," megumi added bitterly.

mrs fushiguro exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temple as if warding off an impending headache. her eyes flickered towards the kitchen, a clear sign that she was torn between dealing with this nonsense and returning to the far more manageable chaos of whatever meal she had been preparing. one hand lingered on her hip, the other twitching slightly as though itching to grab a dish towel and busy itself with some menial task — anything to distance herself from the absurdity unfolding in her living room.

"i want both of you to leave that woman alone —"

"tell her to leave my dogs alone —"

"we told you," you cut across your sour-looking friend, who had apparently still remained salty about the cancellation fee he'd had to pay the vet, "it wasn't us."

his mom raised her eyebrows sharply. "so who was it then?"

you shrugged, noticing that the man beside you had gone eerily silent: he had become invested in the tv show again.

"satoru," you lied easily, jabbing a finger in his direction.

"wha— hey!" he demanded angrily, turning to you and looking scandalised. he pointed at the tv screen, brows furrowed in that expression he'd always made whenever things didn't go his way. "you wanna be careful now, i'm gonna get akumatized —"

"that's enough," mrs fushiguro sighed.

there was a distinct look of resignation in her expression, the kind only a mother who had long since accepted her fate could wear, but the faintest downturn of her lips betrayed the silent distress of a woman who knew, deep in her sou, that this was far from the last incident she'd have to deal with.

"i— if she gets back at either of you, don't come complaining to me."

she walked back to the kitchen and began sharpening her knife again. satoru shivered and looked away.

"women are scary," he commented quietly.

"she just killed us with kindness," you added, blinking slowly.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, eyes drifting back to the tv. the screen flickered with muted colours. after the whole daphne conversation, neither of you were particularly invested, but watching felt better than acknowledging the odd feeling still lingering in the air.

"oh, they defeated her," satoru added, sounding bored. "she really is the weakest villain."

you disagreed: the pigeon guy was worse.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom hummed with the dull rhythm of a typical pre-calc lesson, with pages turning and the occasional sigh of confusion. at the very front, where kento kept a watchful eye sat by his desk, you had been sat hunched over your own desk, pencil idle in your grip.

your notebook had been half-filled with numbers, the rest taken over by tiny, elaborate doodles of spotted suits and tangled yo-yos. you had barely been paying attention to the list of unanswered questions before you, instead, your eyes had constantly flicked sideways to nobara, expression alight with quiet excitement.

"she's not exactly discreet when transforming," nobara commented, mindlessly sketching on the side of her own book. "if i did that, obaachan would figure me out almost immediately."

"what about your mom?" you asked.

nobara shot you a deadpanned look. "she'd probably ask if i'm being paid to save the city."

of course. you did not know how you had forgotten her mother's love for the rich.

"i mean... in her defence," you began slowly, "you are risking your life every day for free."

"you and i both know that's not why she'd be concerned," your friend responded with a scoff. before you could respond to that, most likely agreeing due to the entirely unfortunate and factual nature of her comment, nobara had sat up straight, brows raised. "what if the reveal happens when she takes her earrings off?"

you averted your gaze momentarily, stumped. "er... yes, that's how de-transformation aside from 'spots off' works," you answered leisurely, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"no, not like that," said nobara impatiently. "i mean, like, something to do with her having to take her earrings off on a regular day, and then adrien realises who she really is."

you considered it for a moment, brows furrowed and head tilted to the ceiling, deep in thought, before ultimately shaking your head, watching as nobara deflated in her seat.

"no, he's a little too blonde for that," you had decided.

"it must have something to do with the big reveal though," nobara stubbornly continued. "she refuses to take them off when she absolutely has to... like a p.e class or a sports activity, or before surgery or a medical scan. if he doesn't realise it then, then maybe when she eventually has to hide it somewhere and he finds it?"

"interesting," you nodded thoughtfully. "where would she keep it though? her diary trapped sabrina's hand before, and she ended up leaving with it, so she can't hide it in there."

"somewhere unsuspecting."

a quiet lull had settled between you and nobara. around you, the steady scribble of pencils continued as your classmates worked through their pre-calc questions in varying degrees of focus: some hunched earnestly over slope-intercept equations, others clearly finishing off assignments from different classes, flipping pages with practised guilt.

you gave nobara's suggestion a little more thought. "in the fridge?"

she shook her head. "wouldn't her kwami freeze to death in there?"

your frown had indicated to her that you had not considered that a possibility.

near the windows, megumi had leaned in beside yuji, gesturing subtly between two overlapping parabolas on his notebook, murmuring something that made yuji squint in deep concentration.

"hmm, fair point..." you hummed.

your eyes had landed on shoes belonging to someone you had recently become more acquainted with. kamo hovered quietly at the front, papers in hand, waiting for kento to finish marking his work. his gaze had drifted with disinterest, but as your conversation with nobara continued, his attention had visibly shifted.

he turned slightly, expression composed but curious, and glanced at you from over his shoulder.

"shouldn't you of all people know that hypothermia only sets in after twenty minutes?" he'd said, hands in his pockets, fiddling.

nobara scowled. "it's rude to eavesdrop."

you agreed, but you certainly did not care as much as nobara did.

"hard not to when i'm standing barely a metre away," he responded easily.

kamo's eyes had met yours again, and his previous statement had settled in.

you blinked, mildly thrown by his certainty. it wasn't like you were known for scientific facts, humanities subjects were your domain, and anything remotely stem-related usually made your brain short-circuit.

so what was he getting at?

it seemed that your visible confusion had become crystal clear to him, for he had decided to finally explain himself.

"the twins in your family during the baking competition..."

and then it all clicked.

your mouth had parted slightly as the memory surged back with sudden clarity, the details unspooling like film in fast-forward.

ah.

that baking competition.

you had told him about it during one of your tutoring sessions — somehow, in a moment of distress, to distract him from the questions he had printed out for you to answer, you'd shared the story of one of your most chaotic childhood afternoons. a family bake-off, teams easily formed and consisting of the children, if only to keep you all occupied: maki and mai, ruthless and exact; you and megumi, competitive yet wildly uncoordinated; and mimiko and nanako, sweet, eager, and, as it turned out, a little too literal.

the instructions in their cookbook had read: chill in the fridge for 35 minutes.

so that was exactly what they had done.

two tiny girls, barely eight years old, had gotten comfortable inside the bottom half of the fridge, knees tucked, heads ducked, with nanako's hand extended to prevent the door from closing entirely (she had feared the dark). both had been rushed to the hospital, apparently having experienced the first stage of hypothermia.

it was something the family had never failed to remind them.

you hadn't thought about it in years, however, kamo had been correct all along. you should have known that a fridge wouldn't be safe for ladybug's kwami.

megumi and yuji had stepped into your line of sight, each holding their own papers, joining kamo in the line forming at kento's desk.

"the fridge thing?" nobara added with a laugh.

at that, megumi had lowered his chin, looking at you with the typical monotonous face.

"what about it?" he'd asked, eyeing your blank question paper with furrowed brows. he did not seem to think that chatting about ridiculous past events was of any priority when you were on the verge of failing pre-calc.

you hastily moved to place your elbows over your paper, scoffing.

"don't be nosy," you shot back, finding yourself unsure of whether you were referring to his disappointment in your work or the conversation with nobara and kamo.

"we were talking about the fridge situation during the baking competition," kamo had calmly told megumi.

"you're still making fun of them about that?" yuji added, looking visibly disheartened. "they were kids, it was just a stupid mistake!"

when yuji had first heard the story, he'd nearly fallen out of his chair laughing. but lately, for reasons no one could quite pin down, he'd taken on a strange moral stance about it, as though the twins' misreading of the directions had become a tragic tale rather than a funny one. nobody else seemed to carry that same sentiment.

"why are you getting defensive?" megumi questioned him, eyes narrowed.

nobara pointed the end of her pencil at him with a smug grin. "'cause he knows that he'd probably make the same mistake at big fifteen."

yuji exploded. "i would not!"

the sharp spike in volume drew the attention of several classmates, but it was kento who had finally looked up from behind his desk. his gaze swept over the small cluster of you causing the disruption before settling on kamo. with a flick of his pen, he gestured the boy over.

"kamo, bring your work here."

as kamo nodded and complied, you noticed that kento hadn't looked all that irritated, his expression barely shifting, and there was even (dare you consider it...) a ghost of amusement behind his glasses. and it all made sense, for he had known that the noise had come from yuji.

and of course, he let it slide.

if it had been you, he probably would have made you sit in time out or something.

"favouritism," you muttered bitterly.

even so, you hadn't spent a long time dwelling on it, mostly because megumi and yuji were both now staring at both you and nobara with a kind of focus usually reserved for particularly confusing word problems.

"why are you guys even talking about the fridge thing?" yuji asked curiously.

"where would you hide a miraculous?" you asked him, leaning on your elbows and looking up at him with raised brows.

"not this again," megumi grumbled.

"hush," yousnapped harshly, before focusing on yuji again. "so..? an unsuspecting place, right?"

yuji nodded, brows drawn together in deep concentration, and for a moment, you almost expected something clever to follow, maybe a hidden compartment idea or a decoy strategy. but the longer the silence stretched, the more it became clear: he was just... thinking.

very hard.

and it became clear when he finally spoke.

"yeah," he agreed calmly. "like under my pillow."

you did not wait for anyone to insult him before doing it yourself.

"okay so you're stupid," you had decided, before clarifying what you had stated earlier; yuji's expression had fallen dramatically. "i would hide it in a fridge, but nobara said the kwami would freeze to death."

"kwamis aren't real," megumi had helpfully retorted.

"thank you for your incredibly obvious input, porcupine. why did we not consider that, nobara?"

megumi's brows remained furrowed, and though his face held its usual flat indifference, there was a tension in his jaw that hadn't been there a minute ago. he didn't respond to your jab, nor did he glance at you or nobara. he had just kept his eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, expression unreadable.

"yuji, would you like me to mark your work?" kento had called out as he handed kamo his notes and papers to take back.

yuji stood upright and beamed, making his way over to the stoic teacher. "ah, yeah! thanks mr nanami!"

"pick a place that won't risk the kwami getting stage one hypothermia," kamo had told you as he'd made his way back from kento's desk. "you're supposed to know this."

you frowned, but the expression quickly faded as your eyes drifted longingly to the marked question papers in kamo's hands — the glorious sheets that held all the answers to the very questions still blank on your own.

"hey, kamo," you began slowly, "remember when i made you laugh and you said that no one's managed to do that before...?"

kamo followed your gaze and shook his head at you, his long hair swaying this way and that. "sorry. wouldn't be a responsible tutor if i gave all the answers to you," he'd told you unapologetically.

you scowled, unimpressed. "boo, buzzkill."

"hello?" nobara spoke up loudly. "we still have an unanswered question here: so the fridge is out of the question. what next?"

megumi turned to kamo so abruptly, it was almost jarring, the motion sharp enough to cut through the playful atmosphere like a blade. his voice had come flat, almost clipped, when he asked, "how do you even know about the fridge thing?"

he hadn't blinked, didn't smile (as per usual), just stared, tone neutral, but just faintly laced with something else. something unreadable.

kamo, for his part, didn't seem fazed:

"she told me," he answered easily.

"how else would he have known?" you asked your unimpressed friend with a grin; megumi supposed that tsumiki was the one who had informed him of this, but as of late, he had not seen the two together since the time outside of his business class. "he was the fridge," you answered your own question sarcastically.

kamo's eyes had locked with your own. "you saying i'm fat?"

you laughed, soft and amused, the kind that curled at the edges of your smile without much effort, and nobara had followed shortly after. but megumi hadn't even flinched, clearly unconvinced that anything about the exchange had been remotely funny.

he found that you were simply laughing too hard at a joke that hadn't landed for him at all.

"hang on," nobara interrupted, and megumi had been silently grateful for it. "how do you know what a kwami is?"

kamo averted his gaze momentarily. "who doesn't know what a kwami is?"

"the people who don't watch miraculous..." you responded gradually. your eyes had narrowed suspiciously, a smile slowly gracing your lips. "oh my god... you watch miraculous, don't you?"

megumi was no longer grateful.

both you and nobara ignored the way kamo had distinctly avoided trying to answer the question, gathering his papers and walking past both your desks to retreat back to his own seat. but you hadn't let that slide so easily: you stood up almost immediately and followed him, taking enough care to take your own question paper with you.

megumi watched as you slid into the seat beside kamo with all the casual defiance of someone who knew they wouldn't be moved. kamo, to his credit, tried — nudging your paper away with the edge of his elbow, muttering something about 'academic integrity,' but you remained perfectly unbothered, chin propped on your hand, eyes glinting with interest.

megumi's frown had deepened.

it was only when yuji had returned, grinning proudly and waving his newly marked sheet like it was a certificate of honour, that megumi finally tore his eyes away. wordlessly, he stood and followed in yuji's previous footsteps towards his teacher's desk, feeling a nasty pit in his stomach he could not quite explain.

"so," you spoke excitedly, "when were you planning on telling me that you watch miraculous ladybug?"

"i don't watch miraculous ladybug," he responded stubbornly.

"liar," you teased, your hand creeping up to swipe at his marked and completed question paper. he had spotted this, and immediately pulled it away from you. this did not deter you from questioning him again (even if it had left you momentarily disheartened). "who's your favourite character?"

"none: all of them are stupid."

you watched him carefully. he had refused, for about a minute or so, to meet your gaze, simply staring down at his own completed question paper, stagnant.

it hadn't taken him long to give in; he'd turned to lock eyes with you, and by the way you were staring at him, it seemed that he knew that you'd caught him.

"what?" he said, dreary.

"how would you know they're all stupid if you don't watch it?" you challenged, grinning.

"my friend... watches it."

"who?"

"...chad."

"don't throw chad under the bus!" you scolded him, sitting upright.

you could still appreciate the fact that chad montgomery most likely did watch miraculous ladybug. you were just certain that kamo watched it with him.

"y'know... mylene is my favourite character," you added mindlessly.

kamo's lips twitched — barely, but enough to betray the internal battle you knew was waging behind his uncaring exterior. he had turned slightly, as if to avoid the trap entirely, but you saw it happen: the precise moment restraint gave way to reflex.

"mylene is no one's favourite character," he said, falling for the bait.

you laughed. "i know, even saying it was a struggle."

the conversation between you and kamo spiralled quickly — what began as a playful dig turned into a full-blown discussion dissecting side characters and plot holes. kamo, despite all prior denial, spoke with the casual confidence of someone who'd clearly watched every season. you were animated, thrilled to finally find someone other than yuji or nobara who didn't give you that look, the one that said 'you're too old to be watching a kids' show'.

meanwhile, on the other side of the room, yuji and nobara sat shoulder to shoulder, their desks practically fused together. nobara was very obviously trying to steal a glance at yuji's newly marked paper, leaning in under the pretence of helping him reflect on his mistakes (as if she were better at math than him).

yuji had kept on tugging the sheet away, hissing protests she didn't bother listening to. by the time megumi had returned with his own marked work, he took one look at them — nobara blatantly demanding him to show her his answers to question eight — and sighed before sliding wordlessly into the empty seat beside them. the corner of his page was already bent from how hard he had been gripping it.

"megumi, give me your paper," nobara demanded the second megumi had come into view.

he shot her a dirty look; she returned it and turned back to yuji, the more malleable friend.

"mr nanami said i can't just give you my answers!" yuji argued stubbornly.

"you guys are so greedy," nobara insulted, scowling down at her own blank sheet. she looked up and found that megumi's attention had been caught elsewhere. "what are you looking at?"

megumi met nobara's gaze with the kind of expression that suggested she'd just accused him of something barbaric... not that this was unusual; megumi rarely looked anything other than vaguely annoyed. but there was something sharper in his stare this time, a flicker of tension in the way his jaw tightened before he blinked and looked away.

it wasn't annoyance at her question, not really. he just didn't feel like answering, not when the sound of your laugh kept drifting over from kamo's side of the room, unguarded, as though you did not have an entire notebook worth of questions to complete.

"they're talking about that dumb show instead of pre-calc," megumi said, sounding unimpressed.

nobara watched him carefully, brows furrowed in disgust.

"oh so you're so righteous," she commented sarcastically.

"no, he's right," yuji mumbled, glaring off into the distance where you held up a terribly-drawn art piece of a bald adrien agreste to show kamo, who slammed the book back down onto the table hastily. "she's gonna be stuck as a junior."

"oh says you!" nobara retorted easily. she pointed the end of her pencil at yuji accusatorily. "you're just jealous she's talking about miraculous with someone other than you."

megumi did not dignify the comment with a response, but the way his eyes narrowed (just slightly) said enough. he had shifted in his seat, shoulders tight, as if the very idea of being lumped into that category offended some private principle of his.

while yuji opposed this loudly, megumi had flicked his gaze back to his worksheet with a kind of forced indifference, pen tapping idly against the desk, though the rhythm was off-beat, unsteady in a way that betrayed more than he meant to.

"i couldn't care less about a poorly-written show," said megumi icily, "but if she wants to pull her grades up, walking away from that conversation would be a good start."

and he hadn't stopped there.

"the show isn't even educational either. why are they talking about it in a math class?"

yuji sat up straighter at that, as though a light bulb had flicked on above his head.

"y'know what, megumi? you're right!" he stated fiercely, and he spun on his chair, calling for kento loudly. "mr nanami! mr nanami!"

the second kento looked up (he had been helpfully marking bonnie francis's work and providing amendments here and there) yuji began explaining himself:

"look, look over there," he advised his teacher loudly. "y/n and kamo, they're talking about miraculous ladybug, which is a show... that i watch too, by the way. but i'm not talking about it in the middle of your lesson... 'cause i'm a good student... that finished the work you set and even had you mark it. and i even did all the ones i got wrong, and didn't let anyone take my answers."

kento maintained eye contact with the passionate boy, before looking over his shoulder to watch you and kamo, but yuji had spoken once more, and kento's eyes had met his again.

"— because i want to actually pass your class —"

"okay, yuji, i understand," kento interrupted with a hand raised.

yuji turned back around, seemingly proud of himself.

nobara scrunched her nose up at him. "you're a snitch."

"a snitch that's passing this class," yuji corrected her, smug.

kento's gaze lingered on you and kamo across the room, expression unreadable, though the slight purse of his lips suggested disapproval. he said nothing, just observed the two of you with that quiet authority teachers wield when they were deciding whether to intervene or let the silence stretch and do the work for them.

from his own desk, megumi watched it all unfold with a calmness he hadn't earned. there was something about seeing kento look your way disapprovingly that settled strangely inside his chest.

it was almost like a quiet satisfaction.

like the prickling confirmation that he'd been right all along — about distractions, about misplaced priorities.

he didn't question why it felt like a win; he just held onto it.

"y/n," kento had called out firmly.

you looked up, brows raised.

"why have you moved seats?" he asked you, simultaneously handing bonnie francis her worksheets back, fully marked and amended where need be.

"'cause kamo's my tutor," you answered honestly; megumi scowled, "and we're talking about the work."

kento adjusted his round glasses before nodding. "is that so?"

"yep," you beamed, turning to your partner. "he explains it to me in a way that i can understand."

"i do," kamo had confirmed, though it came out as more of a question than a statement.

you nodded enthusiastically. "he does!"

the quiet satisfaction that megumi had been basking in had died out quite quickly. yuji had obviously felt the same way, for he had turned around to assist kento immediately.

"there's no link between miraculous ladybug and vector operations!"

kento had raised his hand again, dismissive. "yes, thank you yuji, i am well aware." he had looked at you and kamo again.

it had become clear to you exactly why kento had made it an issue for you to be sitting next to kamo, and you had immediately locked gazes with your stubborn friend; yuji seemed to look a little too proud of himself, and you did not enjoy that.

not one bit.

a demonstration was in order, it seemed.

"a negative plus a negative equals?" you asked your partner, watching as he raised a mildly confused brow at you. you had urged him to respond, raising both your own brows at him encouragingly.

"er..." kamo started, visibly and audibly lose. "i don't know — ladybug?"

you shook your head at him, eyes wide, before repeating the question again for him. he still looked lost, but as the obedient tutor he was, he found an answer not long after.

"oh, a positive... lucky charm," he had finally responded.

you grinned, wholly satisfied, like a teacher whose student had just passed their first pop quiz. "exactly!" you had praised, nodding with pride.

the two of you had turned back to meet kento's gaze. for a moment, it seemed that your strict teacher would make you move back to your original seat (not that you dreaded it, but the conversation about miraculous ladybug with kamo had taken off incredibly well) but to your amazement (as well as yuji's, it seemed, given the look of distraught on his face after kento had spoken) your teacher shrugged it off:

"is your worksheet complete?" he had asked you.

you held it up for proof. "halfway there."

kamo had, in between discussing the hatred you both held for mylene, helped you answer some of your questions.

"then i don't mind," kento said calmly, returning to his computer and tapping at the keyboard. "so long as you are completing the work..."

you blinked, genuinely impressed.

you hadn't actually expected that to work — it had been a bluff, a last-minute tactic, a flimsily disguised display of random mathematical understanding coated in miraculous references. and yet, against all odds, it had worked.

miraculously.

kamo seemed just as surprised, though he very obviously hid it better.

across the room, yuji sat there slack-jawed, hands limp on his desk like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

megumi, meanwhile, did not react verbally. but the way he stared down at his worksheet with sudden, excessive focus (even though he hadn't answered a question in the last three minutes) said plenty. his eyes had narrowed just a fraction too much, and the pen in his hand tapped sharply against the desk in rhythmic irritation. nobara caught the expression out of the corner of her eye and burst out laughing.

"you look like you've just been told your dog joined a fan club for cats," she teased, doubling over slightly in her seat.

and you, thoroughly pleased with yourself, displayed a new drawing you had sketched up. it was a drawing of yuji, but bald and miserable, and you had taken enough care to draw an ominous little akuma (the moth that the villain in miraculous ladybug used to possess his victims) that fluttered near the top of his shaved head.

yuji recoiled:

"no!" he gasped, pointing at you with a petrified expression painted over his face. "i'm not bald, and i'm not gonna get akumatised 'cause i'm not even angry! you're such a —"

"yuji," came kento's voice from the front without even looking up. yuji had turned around abruptly. "focus on your own work please."

nobara burst into laughter first, her hand slapped over her mouth as she wheezed, and you followed not long after, shoulders shaking as you tried (and failed) to stifle your grin behind your hand.

yuji, on the other hand, sat there in stunned silence, mouth slightly open as he turned to stare at you in utter betrayal. you were the one who was supposed to be getting told off — not him. he'd been helping the class, being righteous, virtuous, even. yet somehow, he'd taken the fall.

from the corner of his eye, megumi watched all of this unfold, jaw clenched slightly. though he didn't comment, the moment held no humour for him. there was a small, reluctant flicker of irritation that lingered behind his eyes, not quite at yuji, and not quite at you either, but at the fact that, somehow, your antics had been overlooked.

and even more annoyingly... rewarded.

"guess you're not nanami's favourite anymore," he told yuji, nudging him hard when his friend had made a fuss over it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the boys' locker room after school was loud in the way that only adolescent chaos could be: metallic clatters of lockers slamming shut, the shuffle of sneakers across slick tile, and the constant hum of overlapping voices that bounced off the concrete walls like static. the fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over rows of dented lockers that looked older than most of their owners. the air was thick with the sour tang of sweat and deodorant battling for dominance, stirred by the rhythmic clinks of belts and the rustle of polyester jerseys being tugged over heads.

somewhere in the back, someone was arguing over who'd forgotten to bring the ball again, and the distant spray of a faulty showerhead hissed like a quiet warning. beneath the surface noise was a routine familiarity, shoulders bumping in shared space, banter tossed carelessly like gym bags, boys posturing just enough to hide the fatigue of the day. a few leaned against lockers, still half-dressed, muttering about class, homework, or who had a crush on who.

megumi and yuji lingered by their own lockers, accompanied by toge and yuta, both of whom were sat hunched over the bench, chatting idly.

"don't you have detention today?" yuta asked toge, who merely shrugged in response.

toge never spoke much, but when he did, it was usually something insulting.

"what did you do?" yuji asked him curiously, as he adjusted his jersey.

"accidentally told mr ali to get laid," toge answered, securing his shoelaces.

megumi half understood the comment: mr ali was one of the few teachers here at the school that even satoru could not tolerate, constantly in a bad mood, and constantly abusing his power by taking it out on the students.

"i still don't get how that was accidental," yuta added, and then nudged his pale-haired friend urgently. "so why aren't you there now?"

toge did not seem nearly as concerned as yuta was. "skipping it; he'll live."

the door banged open with the kind of dramatic force only one person ever dared to use, and sure enough, todo strode in like a man on a mission. the noise in the locker room had dulled instantly, conversations faltering under the sheer weight of his presence (and the fact that he had demanded silence, voice booming).

without sparing a glance at anyone, he made a beeline for the whiteboard mounted on the wall, grabbing the half-dried marker from its holder. with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, he erased whatever faint diagram had been left behind — something clearly unrelated, probably netball or hockey judging by the neat spacing — and, with intense purpose, scribbled in block letters:

WHAT IS JUJUTSU HIGH'S FOOTBALL PLAYERS' TYPES?

he capped the marker with a loud snap, turned on his heel, and faced the room with a deadly seriousness that suggested to everyone in the room that this was no joke.

"not this again," megumi grumbled, and unfortunately for him, todo had caught wind of each word.

"YES, THIS AGAIN, FUSHIGURO!" he bellowed, uncaring of chad's silent flinch in the corner of the room. "we forgot to do a debrief of the task i assigned you a few weeks back."

right, megumi had thought to himself. the one where both him and yuji had been entrusted to find out which girl it was that kamo was interested in.

he had intentionally not made a single move to try and discover the answer, and judging by the shocked look on yuji's face, it seemed that yuji had forgotten to do so entirely.

"BROTHER," todo yelled, throwing the marker at yuji, who had caught it easily (megumi could appreciate the fact that yuji's reflexes had naturally been quite sharp), "DEBRIEF THE TEAM!"

megumi had given yuji a bland, encouraging pat on the back as he stepped forward slowly, the marker looking unusually heavy in his grip as he made his way to the whiteboard. the usual bounce in his step was missing, replaced by something more cautious, thoughtful, even.

the room watched in silence as he lifted his arm and scrawled a single name in a scuffed corner of the board:

Tsumiki

the letters were not bold or confident — each one slightly slanted, like he wasn't entirely sure it belonged there. megumi's eyes had narrowed faintly, something quiet tugging at the edges of his mind...

that was the name he'd expected. the one that made the most sense.

but for some reason, the sight of it didn't bring the same certainty it once had. it sat wrong somehow, out of place — not because of the name itself, but because of the hesitation laced into every letter.

as of recent, megumi had not seem quite certain that tsumiki was the one that kamo had been secretly liking. and yet, he could find nothing else exact that could explain otherwise.

"tsumiki..." todo read out loud, and megumi recoiled from the eyes of everyone in the room, locked on his face from all different directions. he did not like this. "tsumiki from physics?"

"wait, i don't get it," chad called out bravely. "what are we even discussing here?"

"todo told megumi and i to find the girl kamo likes," yuji answered, tapping the board with the back of the marker he'd used to write tsumiki's name down.

kamo had been tying the strap of his shin guard when the sudden mention of his name had pulled his attention up. his gaze drifted to the whiteboard slowly, the way someone might check a clock in the middle of the night — absently, but with growing awareness, brows drawing together almost instantly, as though the name didn't quite translate in his head.

confusion settled subtly across his features, not dramatic or loud, after all, megumi understood how kamo behaved. instead, it seemed that someone was reading the wrong answer to a question they were sure they'd studied for. his eyes lingered on the name a moment too long, not in recognition, but in search of it, and megumi had not missed this.

"is this true?" todo demanded loudly. "'cause if it is, it's not the worst type in the world —"

"why do you think i like tsumiki?" kamo asked yuji, who, just like megumi, had frozen up.

had there been a proper reason for them to have come to the conclusion that kamo liked tsumiki? megumi listed the reasons out in his head, and for the first time since coming to that conclusion, he found himself unconvinced.

"er... don't you?" yuji shot back, now looking uncertain.

1. megumi had spotted them talking, frequently.

"i asked you first," said kamo, no longer leaning against his own locker.

2. the timing could not have been coincidental: the second kamo admitted that he liked someone that time in this exact locker room was the second megumi had spotted the two together.

"er... megumi?" yuji had muttered, apparently looking to him for support.

megumi scowled and turned away, opening his locker and mindlessly rearranging what was inside; he did not want to be any more involved than he already was, which was not by much.

3. tsumiki was speaking about how kamo was very considerate (praising him more than megumi liked to believe that he deserved).

he could feel kamo's stare pressing into the back of his skull, and it was sharp, quiet, and expectant.

it wasn't accusatory, not quite, but it was the kind of look that demanded clarity, that sifted through silence for meaning. and beneath that weight, megumi had continued to fumble with the clutter in his locker, more out of avoidance than necessity.

he did not need to turn around to know that todo's expression had soured — he could practically hear his irritation building, the heavy breath through his nose, the tension in his stance. the lack of answers had grated against todo like chalk against a board, and the longer the confusion lingered, the more obvious it became that this task was slipping further and further out of his control.

"she said you're a good guy!" yuji had added helpfully, though he did not sound too certain about that. "i think..."

kamo replied almost immediately, and just as usual, megumi could not decipher much from the tone of his voice, for it sounded indifferent. "she did?" he'd said.

surely a guy that likes a girl would care for her approval?

so if not that, why else would kamo care?

"brother, i'm disappointed with the results you've given me," todo spoke lowly. megumi had closed the door of his locker, turning around to face his teammates, wanting so desperately for this conversation to come to a conclusion. "HOWEVER, I DON'T BLAME YOU!"

4. tsumiki said megumi would be seeing kamo around more often.

"fuck, he's loud," oliver grumbled, rubbing his ear with a scrunched up nose. megumi could not blame him — todo's spontaneous change of volume always occurred without warning.

"i blame FUSHIGURO!"

because megumi had been expecting this to occur, unlike the rest of the team, he had not flinched one bit.

"kamo, just tell us who your girl is, man," logan grumbled tiredly. "we just wanna get to practice already."

"woah, woah, woah, dude," chad spoke up almost immediately. he had stepped forward and pulled kamo to his side. "you can't pressure my best friend to do that, it's not cool."

and just like that, a flicker of doubt wormed its way through megumi's chest — had he gotten it all wrong from the start?

kamo shrugged him off.

but megumi had just realised something...

"are the juniors right?" todo demanded loudly.

all eyes were on kamo: toge, the silent gossiper, was (to no one's surprise) heavily invested. as was his best friend, yuta, who always tried his best not to indulge in such topics, but even megumi could not deny that this one in particular was of major interest.

tsumiki had never said that he would be seeing kamo around more often...

"wrap it up, man, it's tsumiki —" someone from near the door had decided, but todo was not having it.

or at least, she hadn't confirmed it...

"I ONLY WANNA HEAR FROM KAMO!"

"me and megumi saw you two talking," yuji stated, and megumi refrained the urge to grab him by the neck and throttle him. "a lot."

'will i be seeing him around more?' he had asked her.

"this isn't right, dudes," chad sighed, looking visibly stressed.

'possibly,' she had answered...

"is tsumiki..." todo ominously began, voice deep and low, and yet holding every bit of demand with each syllable he uttered.

possibly.

"...the girl you like?"

she was uncertain.

the silence that settled over the locker room was thick and waiting, like a vacuum sealed tight with expectation. it wasn't the quiet of peace or stillness... it was the kind that crackled faintly beneath the surface, stretched taut like a wire about to snap. even the usual background hum (the rustle of bags, the scuff of shoes, the clink of locker doors) had died out, as if the room itself had been holding its breath.

uncertain... yet he remembered the look on her face.

eyes darted between kamo and todo, then to the whiteboard where Tsumiki stared back in shaky, uncertain letters.

no one moved.

it was hope.

the air was heavy with unspoken guesses and rising tension, like the entire team had been pulled into a single, silent countdown — waiting for kamo to speak and detonate whatever truth he carried.

she was uncertain, yet hopeful, like she could only do so much to allow it to happen...

"ANSWER ME!"

like she was not the one making the ultimate decision.

kamo looked the team captain with one, uncaring look, and let out an inaudible breath, one that only those next to him (chad) would be able to catch.

like she was not the one that kamo liked.

"no," kamo had answered, and the pit that had been slowly forming in megumi's stomach since pre-calc that morning had grown nine times faster.

something else inside him coiled uncomfortably, like a thread pulled too tight, straining but invisible to the eye. he told himself it was just surprise, because that should’ve been the right name on the board, because everything (or what little facts he had silently confirmed by himself) had pointed to it.

and yet, somehow, the wrongness of it all didn’t feel new.

it felt old.

familiar.

a quiet unease he hadn’t wanted to look at too closely until now, when it was suddenly inescapable. he stayed quiet, eyes on the ground, pretending the shift in his chest wasn’t happening.

maybe if he didn't pay attention to it, it'd become less real.

but kamo had made quite sure that this wouldn't be the case:

"THEN WHO?" todo had roared out, visibly and audibly frustrated.

"kamo, man, just tell him!" ethan complained loudly.

logan voiced his agreement. "he's not gonna let this go, and i just wanna get to the field already."

chad, ever the quiet moral compass of the group, leaned forwards slightly on the bench, his elbows resting on his knees as he spoke with the kind of steady conviction that didn’t demand attention but naturally earned it.

“you don’t owe anyone an answer, dude. if you’re not ready to say, you don’t have to.” his voice was calm, but carried weight, cutting through the restless complaints and todo’s booming impatience with surprising ease.

kamo had not replied immediately: he blinked slowly, as if weighing his options, then let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. his hand rose to rake through his hair, fingers slipping through the strands before he pulled it back into a low bun with deliberate, unhurried movements.

"i’m not folding,” he said finally, straightening with a casual ease that didn’t quite hide the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “you’ll find out eventually. i think i’ve got a real shot with her.”

megumi didn’t look up. he had kept his gaze fixed on the half-zipped edge of his gym bag, jaw set, expression unreadable, but something in his stillness felt sharper than before, like the conversation had shifted something small and unseen beneath the surface...

and now it wouldn’t quite settle back into place.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

august 20th 2010 — the baking competition...

the soft hum of an old ventilation fan filled the quiet surveillance room of the community centre, its walls lined with humming monitors and dusty shelves stacked with outdated manuals and forgotten equipment. the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the room, and rows of cctv screens flickered with various angles of the building (the gym, the parking lot) but the largest monitor at the centre had been fixed on the stainless steel kitchen, where six flour-dusted children were deep in chaotic concentration. a half-empty bag of sugar lay ominously overturned on the counter, and someone (it hadn't been clear who) had just slipped on what looked like frosting.

in front of the screen, suguru stood with his arms crossed, brows low and accusing, while satoru leaned back in a rolling chair, spinning slightly, smug and far too relaxed for his best friend's liking.

"why am i here?" suguru had asked him, brow furrowed in annoyance.

satoru pointed at the large screen before them. "to prove to you that i'm innocent," he had answered.

suguru remained unimpressed. "you sabotaged my kids."

"i never sabotaged anyone," satoru responded, a brow raised at suguru's obvious discontent. "i play fair, given how my kids were up against yours —"

suguru had not missed the jab. "the hell is that supposed to mean?"

satoru spun on his chair and clicked at the monitors, speeding up and slowing down the footage.

"you wanna see what happened to your ice queens?" he said, audibly determined.

suguru would have taken him seriously, but he had known satoru since they were just regular students in middle school. he knew better than to blindly trust the white-haired prankster.

"what sort of reference is that?" he demanded, brow raised as he watched the footage blur and come back into focus several times while satoru messed with it. "some of that fake classic literature that you read?"

"hey, i don't read classic literature: it's boring fiction." he gestured to the screen again. "but this? this is the greatest piece of media that i've ever seen, take a look."

on-screen, you and megumi had been caught in a heated argument over what looked like batter ratios, with megumi visibly restraining himself from flinging the whisk at your head. a few feet over, maki had just lobbed a spoonful of frosting at mai, who retaliated with a fistful of flour, their collaboration unravelling into open warfare.

but the lens lingered on mimiko and nanako — the only pair working in seamless, quiet harmony. mimiko folded whipped cream with gentle, precise motions while nanako measured out ingredients beside her, mouthing a count under her breath. their movements were synchronised, calm amidst the chaos, and if not for the occasional glint of flour on their cheeks, they might have looked like pros.

"what am i looking at?" suguru scoffed. "they're doing great."

"don't hold your breath," satoru chuckled, watching the footage patiently.

mimiko squinted at the printout of their recipe before tapping the paper thoughtfully.

“nana," she called out, brows furrowed and lips pursed, "it says to... to chill in the fridge for... thirty-five minutes,” she murmured, eyes flicking to her sister.

her twin had glanced up from the cocoa powder she had been attempting to level, their unspoken communication as natural as breathing. there was a beat of silence, and then, wordlessly, they reached for each other’s hand and padded across the kitchen.

the fridge door had creaked open, light spilling out across the tiled floors, and as they began to remove a tray of gelatine cups and a bowl of frosting to make space, maki and mai’s bickering had paused, just long enough for both sisters to glance over, distracted.

with the contents shuffled onto the counter beside a mountain of cupcake liners, mimiko and nanako climbed up, knees tucking in as they shuffled to the back of the fridge like it was some private little fort. cold air billowed around them, making their cheeks glow pink, but neither flinched. instead, they settled in comfortably, backs against the frosty wall, their hands still linked.

mimiko leaned forwards to close the door shut, and she had almost managed it. but unbeknownst to her, nanako had extended her own wrist, leaving her pointer finger out, preventing the door from shutting entirely.

"mimiko, i'm kind of scared in the dark..."

"it's fine, nanako. we just need to stay here for... erm... how long again...?"

"you said it was thirty-five minutes."

"oh yeah, i forgot."

"it's kind of cold..."

"yeah... brrr..."

maki and mai exchanged a look, the kind of look only siblings knew how to read, equal parts disbelief and opportunity.

maki sauntered over to the fridge, peering inside like she was inspecting alien life.

“er, what are you two doing?” she asked, voice flat but vaguely amused.

it was mimiko that had answered.

"we’re chilling," she'd said, and let out a small cough. "the recipe said we have to chill in the fridge for thirty-five minutes.”

maki blinked once, then turned on her heel, marching back towards the chaos where megumi had just confiscated your mixing bowl.

"the rules said that — that we have to work as a — a — a — a team!" you argued, hands over your hips, your apron a mess of flour, sugar, and frosting. "so you can't just keeping on taking away my mixing bowl, silly billy!"

"then stop ruining everything," he had snapped at you.

you responded by throwing flour at his hair. it was already a mess, you supposed it wouldn't take any more time in the shower to sort the added mess too.

before megumi could retaliate, his eyes a dangerous shade of dark blue that you had started to wisely retreat from, maki and mai had joined your guys' side.

"oi, you two," maki had hissed, one lens of her glasses dripping with melted butter. "look at them."

you and megumi, despite your differences, paused momentarily and turned towards the fridge in sync, your bickering momentarily forgotten. behind the slightly ajar door, mimiko and nanako were still curled up like chilled dumplings, pink-cheeked and eerily serene, as if sitting inside a fridge mid-baking challenge was the most natural thing in the world.

megumi narrowed his eyes, visibly unimpressed. "what the hell are they doing?" he muttered, deadpan.

"the recipe says to chill in the fridge for thirty-five minutes," mai whispered, showing you the line in the baking book that had stated exactly that.

"that's the dumbest thing i’ve ever seen,” said megumi, nose scrunched in disgust.

you shake your head, holding back a laugh. "my daddy says we have to — to — to help animals when they're in danger... are mimiko and nanako in danger?"

"mimiko and nanako... aren't animals," said mai.

megumi scoffed. "they're acting like them."

you glanced at your competition partner, blinking through the flour stuck between your eyelashes. "so... are we 'upposed to help them?" you asked him, visibly lost.

maki and mai shared a grin that only spelled mischief. together, they turned back towards the fridge like foxes closing in on an easy win. maki crouched slightly to meet the twins’ eye level, resting an arm on the fridge door while mai stood behind her, holding the baking book.

“hey,” maki began, tone suspiciously encouraging, “you guys are so good at this. megumi and y/n and me and mai are gonna lose now."

mai nodded solemnly.

there was a pause, and you almost believed that the act was obvious, that the other sets of twins had figured you all out, until one of them responded (mimiko, you had assumed), grateful and yet very obviously in discomfort.

"really? thank you, maki,” she said softly, fingers still clutched around nanako’s hand like they were on some arctic expedition. "you're never usually this kind..."

maki locked eyes with you and shrugged.

nanako had spoken next.

“do you know how much longer we have to stay in here?” she asked, voice tinged with a tiny shiver.

you had almost felt bad for them, but after taking a look at your own work station, mess littered all over the place with very little progress, you supposed that you could use the extra time.

mai gave a beat before replying, “fifty minutes.”

you, from across the kitchen, whipped your head around.

fifty minutes?!

that was the entire remainder of the competition — you had seen the timer just five minutes ago.

mimiko sounded sceptical. “but... i thought we were supposed to stay for thirty-five...”

mai waved her off with a breezy tone. “you read it wrong. it’s actually one whole hour.”

“an hour?” nanako repeated, voice going slightly high. “but we’ve already been in here for, like... fifteen minutes! and it's — it's cold! and...”

“exactly,” maki nodded, stone-faced. “you guys still have so much time left, but at least you're ahead of all of us! you guys are going to win.”

nanako let out a whiny little groan, cheeks puffed. “but it’s so cold, mimiko...”

"cold builds character," megumi had added helpfully.

they were rushed to the ER not long after the rest of you kids had continued to bake your goodies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: guess who's baaaack :D no, i didn't warn u of my return, bc i meant for this to be spontaneous (this was intentional). hence why i've been answering the asks in my inbox and saving them in my drafts so i can release them all at once ;) this chapter is dedicated to @crisis-unaverted-recs i wrote my hiatus notice/announcement at around 11:34pm on the 9th of jan, and she had conveniently been the first to respond. she told me that i am 'not a content farm' and that i 'don't owe anyone my writing'. it might not seem like a lot to anyone else, but for me, it was just the thing that i'd needed to hear at that exact moment. for that, i thank you by dedicating this lengthy chapter to you. ik it's not much, but it's the only way i can show my gratitude, ty. and for everyone else, tysm for ur patience. it meant the world to me at a time where i was incredibly stressed out with exams. but that hell is over now, and i can finally make up for lost time. ty again <3

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @reocidal @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child @anotherwriternamedclara @ist0leurc0ffee @spookypeacesandwich @jvpit3rr @2ukika @zzn-li @biancaackerman @yanelis-world @you-transfix-me @chaeisbroke @evergumi @looktheresfire123 @arrozyfrijoles23

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

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nickssidewitch · 25 days ago

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🎭🎬 💘 If the Sturniolos were actors, what roles would they play based on their looks & personalities? (A Tarot Reading) 💘🎬🎭

~Chris~

Best Fit Genres: Drama/Romance/Comedy/Thriller

The “Boy Next Door” who helps the main character with their problems throughout the plot, seemingly being the only person in the town who believes her claims. He flirts and teases with the protagonist constantly, but his hard work doesn’t go unnoticed.

Lines in this script:

• “Yeah? What d’ya need, pretty girl?”

• “Alright, I’ll help you. But how’re you gonna pay me for my hard work? A kiss?”

• “Maybe you are crazy. But the best people always are.”

• “We’re onto somethin’. …Okay, you’re onto somethin’.”

• “I love you, y’know that? Crazy girl.”

The “Lover-boy” who claims he isn’t one due to being hurt in previous relationships, but the closer he gets to the protagonist, the more he realizes his worth in love and starts to embrace his romantic side.

Lines in this script:

“God, you’re a pain.”

“I’m a stupid idiot who can’t read between the lines, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I can’t read period.”

“I just… haven’t been in a relationship in a long, long, long time. Not interested anyway.”

“Don’t look at me like that— with those eyes.”

“…I miss you.”

The “Party Animal turned Serious Investigator” in a thriller. He holds his trusty flashlight for dear life, searching for clues amidst the horrifying unknown he was forced to reckon with. He’s either the final boy, or the one who sacrifices himself for the fate of the town.

Lines in this script:

• “Can we please just forget about the fuckin’ jobs and resumés and classes and shit for one summer?!”

• “Who are you?” *whispering* “Damn he’s ugly…”

• “Fuck, what happened to her?!”

• “I’m getting my lick back one way or another”

• “This is for ruining my fuckin’ summer!”

>Matt<

Best Fit Genres: Romance/Mystery/Action/Young Adult Drama

The “Mechanic/Handyman” who helps the protagonist with her new home/car, fixing up pipes, giving her free oil changes, cleaning her windows, etc. When the main character is going through issues with her boyfriend whom she moved in with, he allows the main character to see what real love is, despite not being the most romantic person himself.

Lines in this script:

“You aren’t from around here, huh?”

“Pretty name.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Me? Nah. No wife or girlfriend. I don’t have the time.”

“You know I always have time for you, pretty girl.”

The “Small-town Dad” who, when tragedy strikes in his neighborhood/family, decides to do the crime-solving work that the city cops and detectives won’t do. He ends up uncovering something so dark and dangerous that his life is at risk around every corner.

Lines in this script:

• “My wife didn’t deserve the way she died, and doesn’t deserve the way she’s being treated after death either.”

• “It’s okay, sweetheart— Daddy’s just been thinkin’… overthinkin’.”

• “The mob?! You think I got ties to the damn mafia?!”

• “I want you to tell me what the fuck I’ve been busting my ass for.”

• “I’m not doing this to please y’all— I’m doing it to protect my family.”

The “Highschool/College Freak” who everyone misunderstands and hates— even the protagonist— but he doesn’t care. He finds ways to navigate through the system that’s set up against him and his misfit friends, and somehow the protagonist follows him along.

Lines in his scripts:

• “Oh, fuck me.”

• “This place sucks a bit less with you guys in it.”

• “You tryna blow me or somethin’?”

• “Unless you wanna end up expelled or in jail, then I’d suggest you leave before it gets messy.”

• “You’re braver than you know. That’s a… Winnie The Pooh reference, yeah, I know.”

•Nick•

Best Fit Genres: Intense Romance/Coming-of-Age/Comedy/Thriller

The “Stone-Cold CEO” who’s a tough shell to crack after years of building his empire and setting his place n the business world. But his new secretary somehow manages to break down his walls.

Lines in this script:

• “Can you just get back to work and stop pestering me?” • "I think you're just doing this to get a raise...”

• “Love? I can’t do that. Not with you, or him, or anyone in this damn office. You want me to fail?! To lose?!”

• “It hurts! It hurts to feel this way so deeply.” • “I don’t know why I love you so much.”

The “Trusty Rich Uncle” with no kids, but a whole lotta mouth. He always has a clap-back ready for the family, especially when he see the protagonist constantly being belittled or underestimated by them, having been through the same experiences himself growing up. In this coming-of-age, the protagonist learns to navigate the world with his growing confidence.

Lines in this script:

• “Ugh, don’t talk to me.”

• “I hope it isn’t as awful as those shoes she’s wearing.”

• “I know this family sucks, but you gotta improvise, y’know?”

• “He’s a pain in my left testicle. Which is why I don’t have kids.”

• “Just live your life! Fuck ‘em all!”

The “Sly Mastermind” of the crime thriller. He seems to be helpful in the beginning, but it’s as if every piece of help or advice he gives the protagonist and their friends ends up getting them all into deeper trouble. It turns out he was the one who orchestrated the whole thing, and just doesn’t want his secrets revealed.

Lines in this script:

• “Of course, I’d help you! What sort of man would I be if I didn’t?”

• “You should check the city council’s office; perhaps the mayor knows something about this.”

• “Whatever do you mean? Me? No, why would I be involved?”

• “It’s because of you! You caused this! You made me be this way! And you will be the death of this city!”

#nickssidewitch #nickssidewitch tarot #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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neferaskingdom · 9 months ago

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♡ Sign Here… Wait, What?! | CL16

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Two strangers hit the courthouse for a ticket and a typo fix—next thing you know, they’re accidentally married. Chaos, a clerk who couldn’t care less, and a fiancée on the verge of a meltdown, convinced it’s all some evil plot. Spoiler: it’s not.

"For the last time, Brittany, it wasn’t on purpose!"

A/N: Inspired by my writer's block for my other fic and that one video of Charles just randomly signing anything he's handed.

CHARLES LECLERC MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The courthouse was an absolute disaster. It was understaffed, overcrowded, and seemed to be held together by the fragile thread of everyone’s fraying sanity. You had been stuck there for hours, and all for a minor spelling error in your legal name. At this point, you were half convinced you’d be old and gray before they got to you. The whole place felt like a purgatory of paperwork.

The guy sitting next to you looked equally miserable. He had a baseball cap pulled down low and sunglasses on like he was trying to go incognito in the world’s least glamorous place. You hadn’t exchanged many words, but the mutual annoyance simmering between you two was almost palpable.

“This is hell,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly. “Who knew fixing one typo would take all day?”

The guy let out a long, weary sigh. “Tell me about it. I’ve been here for hours. And all for a stupid speeding ticket.”

You shot him a sideways glance. “A speeding ticket? In this city? I didn’t think that was even possible.”

He gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess I just had to be that guy.”

The shared complaint was enough to crack a small smile out of you. But that was the only bright spot in this nightmare of a day. Every time the overworked and increasingly agitated clerk called someone forward, she did it with the enthusiasm of someone trapped in the seventh circle of customer service hell. Her eyes screamed “don’t even think about making my day worse,” and the way she barked out “Next!” like she was calling people to their doom wasn’t helping anyone’s mood.

Finally, the fateful “Next!” came again, and both you and the guy next to you jumped up at the same time. You both stared at each other, disbelief and irritation flaring up.

“I think it’s my turn,” you said, arms crossed.

He raised his eyebrows under the brim of his cap. “Uh, no, I’ve been waiting way longer.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been waiting forever for a typo correction!”

“And I’ve been here since this morning for a stupid speeding fine!” he shot back, his voice rising in frustration.

You both stormed toward the counter, practically shoving each other out of the way, bickering like children. The clerk didn’t even look up from her screen, clearly sick of everyone and everything. “Names,” she demanded with the enthusiasm of a broken vending machine.

“Charles Leclerc,” the guy said, jumping in before you could even open your mouth.

You blinked at him in surprise. Charles Leclerc? Who just throws out their full name like that? You barely had time to process before the clerk barked out her next order.

“Both of you, step forward.”

“Wait, what? Why me?” you blurted out, confused as hell.

The clerk didn’t respond. She just jabbed her finger at the space in front of her, signaling for you both to step up. You shot Charles a questioning look, but he seemed just as lost as you were, though he didn’t argue. Sighing in defeat, you stepped up beside him.

The clerk slapped two pieces of paper on the counter with the grace of a war general deploying a tactical nuke. “Sign here.”

Charles didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed the pen and signed his paper with an alarming speed, as if this was something he did every day. You stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, still unsure why either of you were signing anything.

“I dunno,” he muttered back, not looking up. “People give me stuff to sign all the time. It’s muscle memory.”

Muscle memory? Who just signs things without reading them?! You were about to protest when the clerk shot you a look so sharp it could have pierced through solid steel.

“Sign,” she repeated, her voice low and dangerously calm.

Your stomach twisted in confusion, but the clerk’s death stare was enough to make you scribble your name down without another word. It didn’t feel right, but you were too exhausted to fight. The ink had barely dried on the paper when the clerk slammed a stamp down and said, with zero enthusiasm, “Congratulations, you’re married.”

A beat of stunned silence.

Then chaos erupted.

“WHAT?!” you and Charles screamed simultaneously, both of you staring at the clerk in absolute horror.

Charles dropped the pen like it had just burned his hand. “Wait—what do you mean married?!”

“I’m here for a speeding ticket!” he continued, his voice cracking in disbelief.

“And I’m just here to fix a typo!” you added, throwing your hands up. “How did we just get married?!”

The clerk just raises one eyebrow and looks at her computer screen “But it says here that a Charles is supposed to get married today”

“Well clearly it’s not me!” he screams.

The clerk, utterly unfazed by the chaos she had just unleashed, didn’t even bother to look up from her computer. “You signed the marriage certificate. You’re married.”

You blinked at her, feeling like the room was spinning. “How—no, there’s got to be some mistake. We can’t be married. Can’t you just, I don’t know, not register the paperwork or something?”

The clerk slowly raised her eyes to look at you, her expression blank and dead inside. “It’s against the rules,” she said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Against the rules?!” you repeated, your voice reaching a higher pitch.

Charles let out a panicked laugh, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane. This can’t be happening. I’m not even supposed to be getting married!”

Suddenly, a man in the back of the room shot to his feet, waving his arms frantically. “WAIT! WAIT, NO! I’M CHARLES ANDERSON! I’M THE ONE WHO’S SUPPOSED TO BE GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”

The whole room turned to look at him as he came barreling toward the counter, his crumpled papers in hand.

“YOU CALLED FOR CHARLES!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at the clerk. “I’M CHARLES ANDERSON! THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MARRIED! I AM!”

You and Charles Leclerc whipped your heads toward each other, eyes wide in absolute disbelief. “Oh my God,” Charles muttered, shaking his head. “This is an actual nightmare.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of everything. “I don’t even know you!”

Charles Anderson was now pacing in front of the counter like a madman, his papers flailing in his hand. “My fiancée’s going to kill me! They took our spot!”

You turned to face him, throwing your hands in the air. “We didn’t ask for this, okay?!”

“Can we fix this?” Charles asked the clerk, his voice cracking slightly from panic. “Like, can we just undo it? Cancel the whole thing? Please?”

The clerk let out a slow, dramatic sigh as if they were asking her to climb Mount Everest. She clicked a few buttons on her computer, then looked up at you both with the same bored expression. “Closest annulment appointment is… this Tuesday.”

“TUESDAY?!” you both screamed, causing half the room to turn and stare at you.

Charles Anderson let out a high-pitched shriek. “But my wedding is supposed to be TODAY! WHAT ABOUT MY WEDDING?!”

You whirled on him. “NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR WEDDING, CHARLES ANDERSON!”

Charles Leclerc was pacing now, hands on his head like he was trying to keep himself from exploding. “I can’t believe this is happening. This can’t be happening. I came here to pay a stupid speeding ticket, and now I’m married?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling like you were going to hyperventilate. “I came here for a typo correction. This was supposed to be the easiest thing ever, and now I’m married to someone I don’t even know!”

Charles Anderson, still flapping his marriage certificate, looked like he was going to start sobbing any second. “My fiancée is going to leave me. She’s going to walk out of this courthouse and leave me. We’ve been planning this for months!”

You threw your hands in the air. “This is not about you, Charles Anderson! We just accidentally got married, and you’re worried about yourself?!”

Charles Leclerc spun around to face the clerk, practically begging. “Please, can’t you just… not file the paperwork? We didn’t mean to sign anything!”

She stared at him, eyes glazed over, before sighing deeply. “It’s against the rules.”

“AGAINST THE RULES?!” Charles repeated, his voice reaching a panicked squeak.

The clerk took another slow sip of her coffee. “You can get an annulment. On Tuesday.”

Charles threw his hands in the air, pacing faster. “This is insane. I can’t just—Wait.” He turned to you, blinking rapidly. “Who even are you?”

You blinked back, equally confused. “I don’t know! I mean—I’m me? Who are you?”

“I’m Charles Leclerc,” he said, as if that was supposed to mean something.

You squinted. “…And?”

“And I drive in Formula 1.”

You stared at him blankly. “What’s that? A type of bus?”

Charles Anderson finally chimed in, “Oh my God, you don’t know who Charles Leclerc is?!”

You turned to glare at Anderson. “I don’t care! I just want to undo this whole mess!”

Charles Leclerc let out a frustrated groan. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“Oh, you think?” you shot back, throwing your arms up. “This is not how I imagined my day going either!”

Charles Anderson was now pacing in circles, mumbling about his ruined wedding day. The clerk, unbothered by the chaos she had caused, sipped her coffee again, clearly wishing she were anywhere else.

“This is insane! Can’t you just shred the papers or something?” Charles Leclerc was practically pleading now, his hands gesturing wildly like he was on the verge of losing it. “We didn’t mean to get married! Just pretend it never happened!”

The clerk, still sipping her coffee like none of this was her problem, took an agonizingly slow sip and deadpanned, “As I’ve said already, it’s against the rules. The paperwork is in. It’s legal. You’re married.”

“WHAT RULES?!” you cried, throwing your hands in the air. “There’s no way we’re stuck because of a technicality! This isn’t an episode of Law & Order! No one’s going to arrest you for this!”

The clerk blinked at you, her expression as blank as ever. “The rules are the rules,” she said, like she had this line tattooed on her forehead. “Take it up with a judge.”

Just as you were about to lose your mind, there was a loud crash behind you. You turned in time to see a woman in a wedding gown who was most definitely Charles Anderson’s fiancée, kick a chair out of the way, marching up to him like a woman possessed.

“YOU’RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE AREN’T YOU?” she screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Anderson, who shrank back in terror. “You just didn’t want to marry me, so now you’re pulling this stunt?”

“What?! No!” Anderson yelped, looking around the courthouse like he could find an escape hatch. “It’s not my fault Brittany! They—” he pointed at you and Charles Leclerc, “—they’re the ones who got married!”

Brittany wasn’t having it. “Yeah, right! You’ve been making excuses for months, and now you’re going to try and pin this on them?! What, did you pay them to mess up the paperwork?”

You waved your hands in a panic. “Lady, we don’t even know each other! I’m literally just here to fix a spelling mistake in my name!”

Charles Leclerc jumped in, looking equally panicked. “And I’m just here for a speeding ticket! I don’t even know what’s going on!”

Charles Leclerc looked like he was officially losing his mind. He was pacing in circles, gesturing wildly at the air, as if the universe might suddenly intervene. “I have a race next week! I can’t be married right now! This is insane!”

You stared at him, completely lost. “What are you even talking about? Why does a race have anything to do with this?”

Charles paused mid-panic, looking at you like you’d just said the sky was purple. “For the last time I’m a Formula 1 diver!.”

You blinked and scream out in frustration. “…YOU KEEP SAYING THAT LIKE IT SHOULD MEAN SOMETHING TO ME!?”

Charles looked at you like you’d just spoken in a different tongue. “Formula 1! It’s international. Fast cars, precision driving, circuits all over the world?”

You squinted. “So… like NASCAR?”

Charles’s eye twitched. “NO! It’s not like NASCAR! It’s—" He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. “Formula 1 is completely different. It’s the pinnacle of motorsport. We race on tracks, not ovals, and the cars are way faster and more advanced.”

“Oh,” you said, not even pretending to be impressed. “So it’s like NASCAR with extra steps.”

Charles groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

Before you could respond, Brittany threw her hands up in the air, clearly fed up. “I CAN’T DO THIS EITHER!” She pointed at Charles Anderson, who was now trying to hide behind the counter. “I knew you were stalling this wedding on purpose, Charles! You’ve been dodging this day since we got engaged!”

“Brittany, no! I swear it wasn’t me! It’s just some kind of mix-up!” Anderson tried to reason with her, his voice cracking under the pressure. “It’s a misunderstanding! I didn’t plan this!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally handed over our wedding slot to complete strangers?!” Brittany’s voice was so loud now that other people in the courthouse were starting to stare. “And now we have to wait while you run around trying to fix your mess!”

You slapped your hands over your face, feeling the absolute ridiculousness of the situation weighing on you. “This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Charles Leclerc was now pacing frantically again. “I can’t be married! This is… this is a PR nightmare! my career is ruined! Fred's gonna kill me!”

“Oh my God, no one cares about your stupid racing career!” Brittany screeched, cutting him off. “My wedding’s been hijacked, and you’re worried about PR?!”

Leclerc turned back to the clerk, his voice rising in desperation. “Can’t you just void the paperwork? Pretend this didn’t happen? We didn’t actually want to get married!”

The clerk, completely unaffected by the chaos swirling around her, let out a slow, tired sigh. “It’s against the rules.”

“SCREW THE RULES!” you shouted, slapping your hand on the counter. “No one cares about your rules! Can’t you just— I don’t know— delete the file or something?”

“The government cares about the rules,” the clerk responded flatly, barely looking up from her computer screen.

Charles Leclerc, utterly exasperated, ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “This can’t be happening. This is the worst day of my life.”

“Your life?!” you shot back, eyes wide. “I just came here to fix a typo, and now I’m married to a stranger who yells about race cars!”

Leclerc threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m not yelling about race cars!”

“Yes, you are!”

Brittany stormed back up to the counter, where Charles Anderson was practically cowering. “And you,” she hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You think this is some big joke, don’t you? Delaying the wedding again just because you don’t want to marry me?!”

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like!” Anderson pleaded, trying to grab her hands. “I love you! This is just a mistake!”

“Mistake my ass!” Brittany shrieked. “We’ve been engaged for three years, and now, instead of us getting married, I have to watch these two idiots get hitched by accident!”

You threw your hands up, eyes darting between Brittany and the hysterical Anderson. “We don’t even want to be married! This isn’t some elaborate plan! I’ve literally known this guy for less than five minutes!”

Leclerc, looking like he was about to snap, turned back to the clerk. “There’s nothing you can do? Nothing at all? Can’t we get, like, an emergency annulment or something?”

The clerk glanced up lazily from her coffee. “Like I said next available appointment for an annulment is this Tuesday. Wait no, it’s actually next Tuesday”

“NEXT TUESDAY?!” you and Leclerc both screamed in unison, your voices echoing off the courthouse walls.

“Can’t we just get another slot today please?!” Anderson wails

“Sorry but the fastest I can squeeze in a wedding is on Saturday 25th” the clerk says sipping her coffee nonchalantly.

“The 25th?” Anderson whimpered. “But… my wedding is today! The 25th is like 2 weeks away!”

“Oh, shut up, Charles!” Brittany yelled, practically shoving him. “There is no wedding today! You’ve ruined it! And you know what? Maybe that’s for the best!”

Charles Anderson looked like he might burst into tears at any moment. “But Brittany—”

“Save it!” she snapped, before turning to you and Leclerc. “And you two? Good luck with your stupid accidental marriage. I hope you’re very happy together.”

Leclerc, who had clearly had enough, shot back, “Oh, we’ll have a blast. Trust me. This is exactly what I wanted out of today. To marry a complete stranger in the middle of a bureaucratic nightmare.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on. “This has got to be some kind of cosmic joke.”

From behind, Anderson was still shrieking about his doomed marriage, while Brittany yelled about commitment issues and a wedding that would “never happen at this rate!”

Charles Leclerc leaned over the counter, looking like he was about two seconds away from losing it entirely. “Is there nothing you can do?”

The clerk just looks at him. “Next tuesday.”

He threw his hands up and muttered under his breath, “I should’ve just paid the speeding ticket online.”

The clerk, unfazed by the circus happening in front of her, sipped her coffee and calmly called out, “Next in line, please.”

And that ladies and gentlemen is how you ended up accidentally married to Charles Leclerc in the most ridiculous courthouse mix-up of all time.

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layla4567 · 19 days ago

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A pleasent mistake

Bob!reynolds x fem!reader

Summary: A mission goes terribly wrong, after accidentally inhaling a strange substance you and Bob will look at each other differently.

Warnings: smut/filthy, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, p in v, porn with (barely?) plot, Jack off, Y/n use, curse words, possible grammatical mistakes, fingering, slightly mention of drugs/past adiction, making out, praising (M and F recieving), hair pulling (M recieving)

Word count: 5k

You shouldn't have suggested that, if you hadn't opened your mouth none of this would have happened.

That afternoon when you and the group were preparing for a mission, you hesitantly and timidly suggested that Bob accompany you.

Bob. The man who couldn't fight or defend himself unless he was in his Sentry form. Bob, the one who apologized for hitting someone, even if they were an enemy. Yes, that Bob.

When those words came out of your mouth everyone froze in place and turned to look at you slowly as if you had said something stupid, even the one mentioned.

"I hope you're joking," John said sarcastically.

You were about to open your mouth when Ava's voice interrupted you.

"Come on Y/n, we don't have time for this..."

Not believing your words, the group headed for the elevator while you stood there, not knowing whether to explain yourself or not. Bob, who was sitting in an armchair reading, got up to go to your side to help you.

"Uh guys, Y/n didn't finish talking..."

You looked at him gratefully as the team turned to look at you impatiently. You gulped nervously.

"I... meant it. I think Bob can be useful to us on this mission"

"How?" Walker asked incredulously.

You pressed your lips together to avoid answering with some gag irony, "I don't know yet, but he'll be with me all the time, I'll keep an eye on him."

Then you quickly turned to see Bob and took his hand. He looked at it shyly, then fixed his eyes on you, expectant. "But what do you think? The decision is yours. I just thought it would be good for you to get out of the tower for a bit. I know how much you love helping others."

Bob could see the slightly disapproving and suspicious glances from behind your shoulder. He looked down at his feet, thoughtful. He wanted so badly to go with you and help, but he was afraid of messing things up. How could he be useful? He didn't know how to fight, much less defend someone just being Bob. But your small handshake gave him the courage he needed.

"Uhm I think.. I can go with you guys, I mean, I would like to.."

Bob gave you a small smile, and you returned it while the others pouted in disagreement. The only one who accepted this suggestion was Yelena, who raised her hands in the air to get everyone's attention. "Fine, but you must swear that you will stay by Y/n's side and follow her orders at all times, okay?"

Bob nodded several times "Got it"

And honestly? He had no problem following that advice because he loved being stick to you.

And there they were now, gathered in a building, under a ventilation duct. Ava had already taken care of disabling all the alarms and security cameras. You looked up at the duct, thinking of a plan.

"John help me up, Bob you will come behind me"

Walker reluctantly complied, clasping his hands together for your footing. As he did, John gave you a shove upward, and at just the right moment, you grabbed the edge of the duct and began to climb. The same thing happened with Bob.

"Okay guys, we'll wait for you near the lab and tell you what to do" Yelena said through the earpiece.

Once inside the narrow tube, the two of you had to twist and turn to fit through, You were leading the way, and Bob followed closely behind, giving him a nice view of your rear end. Of course, he was trying to concentrate and look at the floor, not your asset. It wasn't as much of a problem for you; you were used to it, but Bob, who had never been on a mission with you before, had a hard time. His massive muscles barely fit inside the tube, and he was constantly straining to avoid hitting the walls. But he kept complaining.

"Ow!"

Without stopping or looking back, you scolded him, "Bob! Don't make so much noise or we'll get discovered- Ah!"

A slap on your butt made you gasp, Bob had accidentally bumped his head into it from looking down.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!!"

Blushing and a little nervous you replied "No worries, but be more careful next time"

"Y-yeah, yeah!"

Finally, to the relief of both of them, after that awkward moment, they reached the end of the duct. But little did they both know that this wouldn't be the only awkward moment. A trapdoor in the floor indicated where they should go down. With a screwdriver you took from your pocket, you began carefully removing the cover. Without any problems, you descended into a Black Widow pose, precise and silent as a feather. Suddenly, you heard a woman's voice in your earpiece.

"Such a poser..."

"How do you know I posed on the way down?"

"It's so obvious of you..."

You smiled, rolling your eyes, and waited for Bob to come down. Unfortunately, he wasn't as flexible as you, and when he tried to descend the duct, his leg got caught and he fell on his face, almost tripping over you.

"Bob!" you whispered in a not so low voice, alarmed

He stood up awkwardly, grabbing your arms for balance. You asked him if he was okay, and he, a bit uncertain, said yes.

"What the hell is that noise?" Yelena asked in your ear.

"It was nothing, a small stumble. Where to now, Yelena?"

The blonde was constantly talking to both of you through the earpiece to guide them through the exact right corridors to the lab. The hallways weren't completely dark; a small, dimly lit bulb hung from their heads, but it wasn't enough to see clearly. When they reached the right door, they saw a coded pattern on the frame. Luckily, the Russian knew the password, and after entering the correct numbers, the door opened with a chilling creak.

If you complained about the dark room, it was worse. There wasn't a single light on. In the pitch darkness, the only thing that provided a glimmer of light were the city lights visible through a large window in the pitch black. You took a flashlight out of your fanny pack and started exploring the place, Bob always clinging to your side like a lost puppy.

"So, what exactly should we look for, again?"

Yelena's metallic voice answered you immediately: "DNA samples, more precisely a vial with a green liquid inside."

Her words weren't very helpful. "Well, that's a bit of a vague answer, don't you think? How big is the vial?"

You could hear her grumbling through the earpiece and you suppressed a chuckle. "Thin, tall, and with a tag that says fragile. Are you happy now?"

"Very much, thank you" you said in a honeyed voice, teasing her

Having understood your mission, the two of you searched all the tables filled with strange vials and syringes containing samples. Bob, who hadn't brought a flashlight, tried not to trip while clumsily groping in the air with his hands like a blind man. Several times he bumped his knee on a table or chair, apologizing every so often. You, for your part, were searching a nearby table, closely looking for that blessed vial. With a triumphant smile, you grabbed the one Yelena had told you about.

"Hey Bob I-!"

Suddenly, a sound of breaking glass startled you. Bob had once again crashed into the table with such force that he had moved it, knocking over several bottles of strange liquids. He was mortally embarrassed and apologized as many times as he could. Sighing in annoyance, you trotted to his side, seeing the mess on the floor.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" he said distressedly

Even in the darkness, you could see his face contorted in a sad, worried expression that broke your heart. You placed both of your hands on his biceps in a motherly manner. "Hey, calm down. It's not your fault. You did really well for your first time." You smiled at him, even though you weren't sure if he could see you.

You didn't want him to feel bad or useless, because it was important to him to help and feel valuable. He seemed to be calmed by the way his body relaxed in your hands.

"Come on, I already found what we were looking for, let's go"

But before the two of you could take a step, a strong smell enveloped you, making you wrinkle your noses. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but it was very strong and had a slight hint of sulfur. You both looked in surprise at where the jars had broken and noticed the expanding orange puddle. You bent down, and being careful not to cut yourself on the glass, you dipped a finger in the liquid and brought it to your nose. Aside from the sulfur smell, there was a sweetish smell in the background, but you couldn't tell what it was.

"What the fuck is this?" You whispered

"Is it poisonous?" Bob asked worriedly.

"Mmh I don't think so, But I don't like the idea of having inhaled this strange substance either"

You brought your hand to the earpiece and asked "Lena?"

"Yeah? Do you already have the vial?"

"Yes but... Do you have any idea what is manufactured in this laboratory? Or what things they experiment with?"

"I'm not sure, I think with exotic plants or something, but what does it matter, Why?"

"Nevermind, we're coming with you."

You grabbed Bob's hand to walk back the way you had come when you noticed he was suspiciously still, and not only that, his hand was sweating profusely. You wiped your hand, startled, and walked over to him, pointing the flashlight at him.

"Bob what the hel-?!"

In the flashlight, his pale face was slightly pink and sweaty, as if the heater had been turned on. His mouth was half-open, breathing shallowly, and his dilated pupils looked like a black hole. Bob couldn't keep his gaze still, moving from your eye to the other, looking at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. He looked disoriented.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

You placed a hand on his cheek to check if he had a fever, but when he felt your touch, he flinched with a low moan and quickly pulled away like a frightened animal. You had already noticed that his face was hot anyway. Bob noticed his gesture and said embarrassedly

"Sorry! I- I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I suddenly feel very hot"

How strange, the place seemed quite cool, which contrasted greatly with Bob's skin. You turned around with your hands on your hips, scanning the lab for a thermostat. Your eyes, and his, had already adjusted to the darkness. What you didn't know was that Bob was feeling hot in another sense of the word, and it was evident by the way his eyes blatantly rested on your butt, dressed in that tight suit you decided to wear that day. He knew it was wrong to be nosy, but for some reason, he couldn't tear his gaze away as he nervously played with his fingers and the sleeve of his jacket.

You turned around and he quickly fixed his gaze on your face, you didn't seem to notice anything "Well, it seems there's no thermostat around here, let's go back to the team, they'll know what to do..."

Bob was suspiciously following you, and when the two of you were about to walk out the door, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. Your clothes now felt strangely tight and suffocating. You leaned a hand on the wall to steady yourself while you moved your collar aside with a finger. Bob, at your side, asked you what was wrong, and you told him that you were starting to feel hot too. But it wasn't just that suffocating sensation; your mouth also felt a little dry, and the presence of the brown-haired man at your side made your breathing agitated.

"This room has something..." you said breathlessly

You took off your suit jacket to cool off in the heat, leaving on a sleeveless T-shirt while Bob watched you, lightly biting his lip and breathing with his mouth open. You could see it now, in the way he looked at you, with those big, dilated eyes, wanting something from you. You touched your forehead and noticed that it was not only hot but you were also sweating like a pig.

Bob, for his part, imitated you and opened his jacket, though without taking it off yet. He sat on the floor with his back against a closet. You couldn't help but stare at his expression: his face drenched in sweat, his eyes closed, his brow barely raised in a sad expression, and his lips parted as he breathed through his mouth. You looked down at his chest; although he was wearing clothes, his muscles were visible through the fabric, and his chest was rising and falling rhythmically in a slightly accelerated rhythm.

You didn't know why, but seeing him in that state made you salivate slightly, and you began to feel a throbbing in your core. Frightened by the sensation, you squeezed your legs together, your mouth half open. You brought your hand to the receiver just as Yelena was speaking to you.

"Y/n? Y/n! Can you hear me? Where are you?"

You gulped as you turned your gaze to Bob, who was already looking at you, his chin slightly raised and his eyes slightly narrowed. Again, you felt that tingling in your core that made you curl your legs as you brought a hand to your lower abdomen. Why did you suddenly feel so horny? You looked away and tried to maintain your calm breathing.

"Uhh We're still here in the l-lab, something happened... it's hard to explain. I'll c-call you later"

"No wait! what hap-!?"

You hung up before she could finish her sentence, turned off the receiver, threw it away, and gestured for Bob to do the same. He obeyed without question. With great effort, you made your way over to him and sat down next to him, also leaning against the closet. You noticed his breathing become labored as you stood close to him.

"Y/n... what's happening to us?" he said in a whisper

Your name coming from his lips gave you a shiver down your spine, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, he was watching you.

"I don't know... but this is not a simple fever..."

Your voice sounded broken and desperate. Without realizing it, the hand on your abdomen moved down to your mons pubis, cupping and rubbing the clothed area. You squeezed your eyes shut and frowned. Your fingers wanted to pierce your pants somehow, but they couldn't. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel Bob's penetrating gaze, and you felt self-conscious.

"I'm sorry shit, I don't know what's wrong with me" you said opening your eyes

He swallowed hard. "Don't apologize. I don't feel better either."

He also didn't want to admit that he had an uncontrollable urge to touch himself, especially with you by his side. You looked around, trying to reason with a cool head, but all your mind could think about was cumming right there... or being made to cum. Suddenly, your eyes returned to the rotating bottle of orange liquid. Yelena's words came back to you when you had asked her what they were experimenting with in that lab "exotic plants or something". You realized these annoying symptoms started after inhaling that stupid liquid. And then you understood. You closed your eyes and swore under your breath. You two were fucked up, literally, I mean in the best sense of the word. Everything matched: the fever, dilated pupils, sexual urges. That bottle contained an aphrodisiac.

You pressed your lips together so tightly they formed a thin horizontal line as you glanced at Bob out of the corner of your eye. You didn't know how he would take this new information.

"Uh.. I think I know what's happening to us..." you said in a whisper.

He looked at you impatiently with a hint of hope in his eyes.

"But you're not going to like the answer" you said with a grimace of pain.

"Just say it" His tone of voice was pleading, he seemed like he was going to cry

you gulped "That liquid you dropped...it's an aphrodisiac... you know, a substance that increases.. sexual desire"

The air caught in his throat as he stared at you, mouth agape, in disbelief. You tried not to look at him as you dug your nails into your palm to ward off the urge to touch yourself.

"B-but, wha-what do we do now? How do we cure this?"

"Well we could start by masturbating... that is, ourselves, not each other!"

You felt stupid for clarifying that because you knew your dirty mind had betrayed you. "Relax, I won't look at you. I'll go sit behind that counter."

Before he could say anything, you moved across the floor, crawling like a baby with slow, painful movements. With each movement, you felt your panties stick to your wet, sticky area. Sitting down and hiding behind that table, you wasted no time pulling down the strap of your pants along with your panties. You slid your middle finger down the slit of your wet vagina, biting your lower lip and breathing heavily through your nose. You massaged your clitoris with your finger, applying pressure while moans echoed in your throat, unwilling to let them out. Your middle finger, now curled like a hook, approached your uterus, sinking it in and out slowly. You couldn't help but throw your head back and gasp with your mouth open.

You didn't want to be so loud, but a sound alerted you. Where Bob was, you could hear a kind of sliding against his skin, dirty and desperate. His soft moans accompanied by that pounding were filling you with desire. You thrust another finger inside you more insistently and quickly, rocking your hips in the air. As you lifted your pelvis, you let out pitiful moans that grew in crescendo. You felt your walls throb around your fingers, wrapping them like a blanket. At the same time, you could hear Bob's moans intensifying as his hand moved up and down quickly, and you even thought you heard your name whispered. Your whole body trembled as you felt yourself reaching your climax. You prepared to receive it, your free hand pressed to the floor and your body slightly turned as if you wanted to stand up, your hips wanting to fuck the air with uncontrolled thrusts but keeping pace with your gasps.

You felt a thick, warm liquid on your middle and index fingers, shaking you violently from head to toe. You collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily, letting out moans mixed with groans every now and then. It seemed like Bob came right after you, given the way you heard liquid shooting out like a fountain along with his loud moan. You took a few minutes to catch your breath. The pleasure your orgasm left you with lasted a while, and you seemed a little relieved, but when the sensation disappeared, you realized, horrified, that your skin was heating up again.

"Uhm Bob..? Hey do you feel.. better?"

A few seconds that seemed like hours passed until he answered in a pitiful voice

"Not really, and you?"

"Yeah, me neither"

Panting, you pulled up your underwear and pants and slowly crawled back to his side. Luckily, he had already pulled up his boxers, but you could see his large bulge wanting to come out. Fuck, you wanted to have it in your hands so much. He looked at you desperate and tired; it seemed like that action had drained him dry. The moonlight filtered through the window and bathed the side of his face. He looked so attractive. Had he always seen himself this sexy, or was it the effect of the aphrodisiac? Bob gave you a pleading look, as if only you could save him and give him the relief he needed. You licked your lips before speaking.

"Listen, If we already touched ourselves and it didn't work then there's only one thing left... we have to... well, you know"

You were so embarrassed you couldn't finish your sentence, but you knew he understood from his horrified and worried expression. "Yeah, I know. It's awkward, but what other choice do we have?"

He let out all the air he was holding in his lungs through his mouth, trembling as he did so. He closed his eyes, trying to think, would he have to fuck you? Hell, he hadn't felt this way since his drug days; even that lab reminded him of when he used to sneak in to look for meth. Without thinking, he brought his hand to his crotch and squeezed his erection while gritting his teeth. No, it wasn't appropriate to do so, but was there really no other option?

He turned to look at you "Ugh are there r-really no other options?"

You were breathing with your mouth half open, looking at his bulge with desire, but you tried to concentrate on his face, so you looked up and down. "Bob, really, if you don't fuck me, I feel like I'm going to die..."

Your desperate sincerity left him speechless as he looked at your face wrinkled in a slight grimace of pain. He was just as desperate as you, but he didn't want to ruin this friendship he had with you, although to be fair, it wouldn't be the first time he'd imagined a scene like this. Perhaps this aphrodisiac was just an excuse to finally admit that you drove him crazy. Bob nodded weakly, and you quickly grabbed the elastic of his pants and boxers and yanked them down, drawing a broken moan and gasp from him. You straddled him, pulling down your clothes as well, and aligned yourself perfectly with his member. Bob, feeling your wet entrance squeezing around his erection, dug his nails into your thighs to keep you there.

"Are you ready?"

Bob simply nodded, swallowing loudly, and you lowered yourself onto his cock suddenly, already feeling your walls clench. The sharp pain made you whimper as you squeezed your eyes shut. Shit, you hadn't expected him to be so big and well-endowed.

"Careful, you good?"

You nodded without opening your eyes and gasped, trying to get used to the sensation. When you opened them, you saw Bob looking at you with concern, but behind that, you noticed how his eyes shone with lust. He was simply waiting for your orders or some gesture from you to guide him so he could follow you. You finished removing his open jacket and began desperately kissing his neck. It was more like sucking and nibbling while you moaned and whispered apologies against his skin.

"F-fuck sorry, mmh, I just ah~ couldn't hold on any longer ngh"

Bob said nothing, but he dug his fingers into your hips as he felt your walls throb around his member. Your French kisses ran along the line of his jaw, making him clench it to hold back his moans.

"Gosh, you're divine.."

Your compliments were making him feel like he was on cloud nine, and he dared to massage the flesh of your waist while slightly rolling his eyes. Now your mouth crashed against his lips in a fiery, needy, and open kiss. Your tongue entered his mouth, and he allowed it, feeling the warmth of your saliva. Almost hitting your teeth, you explored every corner of his mouth and lips while he moaned into yours. When you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a tug, causing him to throw his head back, Bob moaned your name loudly.

"Shit Bob.. everything is perfect about you" you whispered against his lips between kisses

Bob felt himself melt at your words. One hand was on your lower back, pulling you closer to him, and the other was sliding down to your lower abdomen. With one finger, he probed your bare clit, and you gasped into his mouth. He dared to trace circles, making you stop and press your forehead to his, breathing heavily.

"Omg! F-Don't s-stop!"

His finger played with your button-like slit, ecstatic at how you were coming undone under his touch, lips flushed and parted, eyes half-closed and glassy, you looked perfect. His magical fingers lifted your pelvis, which was already aligned with his erection. The sound that filled the room was so filthy that you were glad the team hadn't come looking for you two yet.

"Damn Y/n, you are so fuck! wet, but I got you"

And he was right, your wetness was so great it acted as a lubricant, and you slid up and down with ease, making a loud chop! chop! Your ass hit his balls with every hard thrust you delivered, causing his face to twitch.

"That's ri-right ah, k-keep going, don't stop!, you.. you're making me feel ngh so good, sweets."

Sweets? Now Bob dared to give you a pet name? There you go. You lost it. You leaned your forehead on his shoulder, sighing between delicious and pleasurable moans. It wasn't just how you were riding him and how he took you so well, as if his member had been made for you, but the fact that he dared to shower you with praise was killing you. Their hot breaths mingled with each other just inches from their faces, sticky sweat clung disgustingly to their hair but all they could focus on was how close they were to reaching another orgasm. Bob was with his hips hitting your G-spot precisely making you scream his name

"Ah! Yes! There!!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as your walls contracted even more, feeling them throb painfully. You were about to come.

"Fuck! You're tight!"

Bob kept talking through his orgasm which turned you on even more.

"Fuckfuckfuck I'm so close! And you feel so fucking g-good. God you're taking me so well mm"

With those last words, you came, followed by him. A sticky, thick, and hot liquid trickled down the inside of your thighs, staining both of your clothes. Bob threw his head back to rest it on the closet door, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder, your head turned toward him. The two of you stayed like that for several long minutes, catching your breath. You no longer felt that intense fever, nor did your skin feel so sensitive to the senses. It seemed that the narcotic effect had finally worn off. You smiled, relieved, closing your eyes. Bob hugged your back with both arms, holding you like a small child about to fall asleep.

"Well... I think the aphrodisiac is already out of our systems."

He sighed tiredly "Yes, I think so too"

You noticed a note of joy in his voice, and you didn't know if he was glad he was no longer under the influence of that substance or because you had just made him cum. Either way, and although you wanted to stay in his arms for a longer time, you decided you should separate because if the team arrived and saw you like this, they would be traumatized for life. You pulled away from his chest, and he kept his eyes on you the whole time, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. When you stood up, you forgot you could still feel your sensitive area, and with a slight shudder, you moaned, startled.

"Slowly, let me help you"

He chivalrously helped you up and even pulled up your clothes before straightening his own pants. They stared at each other for a moment; they were a mess. Their clothes were stained and damp, and their hair was tangled and sticking to their faces from sweat. They smiled, embarrassed and uncomfortable. "We won't tell anyone about this, okay? And then, well, I don't know... maybe someday we can talk about this..." you told him, determined because you had realized your feelings for him. You were surprised when you noticed that he nodded confidently; perhaps the feeling was mutual after all.

You headed for the door, walking uncomfortably because of your soaked underwear, which already felt cold. As you were about to open it, a restless group of people entered through the entrance, accidentally pushing you and causing you to stumble. You would have fallen if Bob hadn't caught you from behind and under your arms before you fell backward to the ground.

"WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OK?!" Yelena yelled half worried an half angry

You half-reassured her by telling her that they were both fine now, without explaining what had happened, of course. You gave her the vial they needed, and she seemed satisfied. The others walked around the place inspecting it

"Why the hell did you turn off your earpieces? It took us two hours to find you in this building that looks like a fucking maze" Yelena scolded them.

"sorry about that, it's just that..-"

You were about to make up any excuse when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky bending down to smell the aphrodisiac orange liquid. Alarmed, you and Bob stopped him by shouting. The man with the metal arm stood up, startled and confused.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" you two exclaimed in unison

"Why?! What's wrong with it??"

"Yeah, What do you two know that we don't?" Walker asked

You and Bob cleared your throats and coughed nervously, babbling incoherently, which was impossible to understand because you were talking at the same time. Suddenly, you abruptly fell silent and looked at the team, which didn't understand anything.

"Forget it! We already have what we were looking for, let's go!" You quickly said nervously

You dragged Bob by the hand, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, while Yelena shrugged, looking at the others to follow you. Everyone did the same, except for John, who stared at the table for a few seconds, wanting to find out why you were acting suspicious. In his search, he found a folder that read:

The concubus is a plant that grows in clusters of three with pointed leaves. Its orange nectar is a strong aphrodisiac that can be obtained by grinding its leaves. The ancients used it as a natural Viagra.

Then John looked down at the floor where the broken jar lay and smiled, understanding everything.

"damn horny dogs..."

And with a broad smile he left the laboratory following the others. He would have enough to bribe those two when they bothered him.

151 notes · View notes

baelabong · 10 months ago

Text

ᴄʟᴜᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ

ʀɪᴄʜɢɪʀʟ! ʏ/ɴ x ᴏʟᴅᴇʀꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀꜱʙꜱꜰʀ!ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ

Plot: Y/N lives a life of luxury, lounging by the pool in her mansion, completely at ease. But when her sister’s best friend, Karina, shows up, everything changes. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act like the perfect spoiled princess, she finds herself struggling with feelings she doesn’t want to admit.

Warnings: no, fluff, lowkey angst, y/ns a bitch lowkey

wc/rq: 7.5 k words/no, i was just watching clueless again Notes: guys pls teach me ho tochange the colour of the text in tumblr also this took me FIVE DAYS OMG

it’s another perfect day as you lounge around your mansion, well…. your dads but whatever, and you’re in your element. lounging by the pool is practically a full-time job for you, and honestly? no one does it better. your designer sunglasses sit perched on your nose, your iced drink sits on the little table next to you, condensation sliding down the glass, while your phone is buzzing nonstop with notifications. friends asking about plans, people wanting your attention—it’s exhausting, really. but you couldn’t care less at the moment. the world is yours, and you’re revelling in it.

you stretch out on your lounger, flipping through your phone without much interest, skimming texts, and rolling your eyes at half of them. you don’t feel like replying. it’s one of those lazy afternoons where you can just exist in your little bubble, and everything is going your way.

until you hear her voice.

karina.

the sound of her laughing from inside the house catches you completely off guard, and suddenly your perfect little world feels a bit too small. her voice cuts through the air, light and casual, like she owns the place—and you already know she’s probably leaning against the kitchen counter, looking effortlessly cool, as she does.

god, she’s so irritating.

you sit up a bit, tugging your sunglasses down your nose, the slightest frown creasing your brow. you try to ignore the flutter in your chest, that annoying little skip your heart does whenever you know she’s nearby. it’s stupid, really. she’s your sister’s best friend. she’s here for her, not for you. but for some reason, your body never seems to get that memo.

you roll your eyes at yourself, huffing as you grab your phone again, pretending to be engrossed in something important. but it’s useless. you scroll without really looking, your mind racing ahead of itself. the thought of karina, her presence this close, makes your skin tingle in the most frustrating way. it’s like she invades your space, even when she’s not physically next to you.

snap out of it, y/n, you think, shaking your head. but the moment’s already ruined, and lounging by the pool doesn’t feel as serene as it did five minutes ago.

you sigh dramatically, slipping your sunglasses back up and fixing your hair, running your fingers through it like you’re preparing for battle. because, honestly, that’s what it feels like whenever karina’s around—a constant need to look your best, act your best, even though she’s never actually paying attention to you. at least, not in the way you wish she would.

so you push yourself up, deciding it’s better to face whatever weird feelings are bubbling up rather than sitting here, stewing in your own frustration. you stand and slip on your sandals, adjusting your swimsuit just so—because even if you’re annoyed, you’re still going to look flawless. that’s just who you are.

as you stroll into the house, your head held high, your heart’s racing, but you force yourself to look as unbothered as possible. you walk with purpose, sunglasses still on, acting like nothing could possibly faze you.

and then you see her.

karina’s leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, her black cropped top showing just enough of her toned waist to make your throat go dry. her jeans hug her in all the right places, and her dark hair falls effortlessly over her shoulders, making her look like she just stepped out of a photoshoot without even trying. of course she looks that good. she always does.

and what’s worse? she’s laughing at something your sister just said, completely relaxed, as if the world hasn’t just tilted on its axis now that you’ve entered the room. ugh.

you can feel your stomach flip, but you swallow it down, refusing to let it show. you are y/n, after all. you’re always in control.

"y/n, finally. we’re going shopping," your sister, ningning announces, not even bothering to look up from her phone. she says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if she hasn’t dragged you along on three separate shopping trips already this week.

you roll your eyes dramatically, making sure everyone in the room feels it. shopping? again? it’s like your sister has no sense of boundaries, always assuming you’ll drop everything to go out with her. you love her, obviously, but sometimes she just doesn’t get it.

"ugh, shopping? again?" you groan, exaggerating every syllable. you throw yourself into your usual bratty mode because it’s easy, it’s safe. and more than that—it’s your way of keeping karina at arm’s length. you know if you act like a spoiled little princess, you can keep the attention off how much she messes with your head.

karina glances at you, and you can feel her eyes on you before you even meet them. when you finally do, she’s got that smile on her lips—that tiny, knowing smile that drives you insane. like she can see right through you. like she knows exactly why you’re acting this way.

god, she’s so frustrating.

"you’re coming whether you like it or not," your sister chirps, still absorbed in whatever text she’s typing, oblivious to the tension bubbling under the surface.

you huff, flipping your hair over your shoulder with a sharp toss. "fine. but we better not spend all day in some tacky boutique."

you strut past karina, making sure to give her the cold shoulder as you do, acting like her presence doesn’t bother you in the slightest. like the fact that you’ll be stuck with her for the next few hours isn’t making your brain short-circuit. you feel her eyes linger on you as you walk away, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to turn around and meet them again.

you know what she’s thinking—that you’re being a brat, like usual. that you’re throwing a tantrum because things aren’t going your way. and maybe she’s right.

the drive to the shops feels like it drags on forever, but you manage to keep your cool. you’re in the backseat, legs crossed, uour white crop top hugs you perfectly, and your leather skirt shows just enough skin to catch attention without begging for it. it's the kind of look that makes you feel in control, like the world bends to you.

your phone buzzes again, and you glance at it with a small smile. some boy you barely care about has been texting you for days, throwing compliments like they’re going out of style. he’s sweet, but he’s not who’s really on your mind. you’re only half paying attention to the conversation, lazily scrolling through his messages, while your eyes flick towards the front of the car.

karina’s sitting there, chatting with your sister, her voice low and calm, like she has all the time in the world. she laughs at something your sister says, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes your heart skip for a moment—annoyingly effortless, just like the rest of her. her dark hair is pulled back, showing off that ridiculously sharp jawline, and she’s dressed in this casual, almost too-perfect outfit that only adds to her coolness. you hate how much it affects you, but you’d never show it.

instead, you lean back, subtly watching her from behind your sunglasses, acting like you’re completely disinterested. every now and then, you catch her looking at you through the rear-view mirror, her gaze flickering over you just long enough for you to notice. she’s not obvious about it, but you know. she’s watching you, and it sends a little thrill through your veins, though you’d never admit that either.

as the car slows to a stop at the shopping centre, you apply a quick swipe of lip gloss, making sure your lips are shiny and perfect. you don’t even look at karina when you do it, but you know she’s paying attention. her gaze lingers again, longer this time, before she quickly looks away, focusing back on whatever your sister is babbling about.

you step out of the car with a smooth, practised ease, swinging your small designer bag over your shoulder as your sister immediately grabs your arm and pulls you into the first boutique she sees. you roll your eyes, but follow her, because it’s easier than making a fuss.

inside the shop, your sister flits around like a kid in a candy store, grabbing clothes left and right, already talking a mile a minute about some guy she’s obsessed with. you’re only half listening, the same way you do with the boy who’s been texting you. instead, your attention keeps drifting back to karina, who’s moving between racks with her usual calm and collected grace.

you can’t help but watch her, even when you pretend you’re not. everything about her is so annoyingly perfect. you find yourself bristling at it, at how unbothered she looks, while you’re stuck in your head, trying not to let her get to you.

as if on autopilot, you grab a bright pink dress from a nearby rack and hold it up, not even thinking about it. it’s not your style at all—too loud, too flashy, too... obvious. but you’re not really shopping for yourself at this moment. you’re trying to pull karina’s focus, to force her to engage with you, to get her to stop being so damn aloof.

"what do you think of this?" you ask, holding the dress up in front of her, your tone casual, like you couldn’t care less what she says. but your heart is already beating a little faster, and you hate that she has this effect on you.

karina looks up, her eyes flicking to the dress, then to you. she takes a moment, her lips curling into a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk. "it’s cute," she says with that maddening calmness. "but... i think you’d look better in something less... obvious."

you blink, momentarily thrown off. "less obvious?" you scoff, tossing the dress back on the rack with a little more force than necessary. "i think i know what works for me."

"i’m sure you do," karina replies, moving to the next rack like your little outburst didn’t even faze her. she’s so damn unbothered, and it’s infuriating.

you huff, crossing your arms, watching as she walks ahead. she’s already browsing something else, her attention completely shifted away from you, leaving you stewing in your own frustration. who does she think she is, telling you what looks good on you? it’s not like she’s some kind of fashion expert. she’s just... karina. your sister’s best friend. and yet, here you are, letting her opinion mess with your head.

deep down, you know you’re overreacting. it’s not really about the dress. it’s about how karina makes you feel, like she’s always two steps ahead, always so calm and cool, while you’re over here, constantly putting on a show. and the worst part? you care what she thinks. way too much.

you glance at her again, catching the way she moves, so confident, so sure of herself. and for just a moment, you wish you could be that unbothered. but then, you shake the thought away, smoothing down your outfit as if it’ll somehow fix the mess in your head.

"ugh, whatever," you mutter under your breath, striding past her like you’re completely over it. but even as you move to the next rack, you can feel her eyes on you, and it makes your heart race all over again.

you move to the next rack, pretending to focus on a row of dresses that all blur together in your head. your sister is off somewhere, chattering away to some salesgirl, and you’re left alone in this silent tension with karina. you know she’s watching you, even if she’s not making it obvious. but you refuse to give her the satisfaction of looking back. not yet.

after a few more minutes of awkward browsing, your sister finally appears, holding up two completely over-the-top outfits. “which one do you think i should get? i have a party this weekend, and i need to look amazing,” she says, thrusting the clothes at you and karina for judgement.

you raise an eyebrow, barely glancing at the dresses. “does it really matter? you’ll look fine in anything,” you say, a little dismissively, still annoyed at the whole situation.

karina, on the other hand, takes the time to actually consider the options, glancing from one dress to the other with her signature calm. “i like the red one. it’s bold,” she says, giving your sister a genuine smile.

and just like that, your sister beams at karina, completely smitten with her opinion. “ugh, i knew you’d get it!” she squeals, already grabbing the red dress and skipping off to try it on, leaving the two of you alone again.

you roll your eyes at the whole interaction, crossing your arms as you turn back to the rack. “she acts like she’s going to prom or something. it’s just a party,” you mutter, but there’s no real bite in your voice. you’re more distracted by how casual karina is, how her attention shifts so easily from one thing to the next, while you’re stuck here, hyper aware of every little thing she does.

and then, out of nowhere, she’s beside you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of her presence. “you didn’t answer me earlier,” she says softly, her voice low enough that it makes your skin tingle.

you glance up at her, confused. “about what?”

“about why you’re really upset. it’s not the shopping, is it?” she asks, tilting her head slightly, studying your face with those dark eyes that seem to see through you.

your stomach flips, and for a second, you can’t think of anything to say. because she’s right. it’s not the shopping. it’s not even the dress. it’s... her. the way she gets under your skin, the way she knows how to push your buttons without even trying.

you bristle, putting up your usual front. “i’m not upset,” you say, but your voice wavers slightly. “and i’m definitely not interested in whatever psychoanalysis you’re trying to pull.”

karina’s lips curl into that infuriating smirk again, like she knows you better than you know yourself. “sure, y/n. whatever you say.”

and with that, she steps away, her attention shifting back to the clothes, leaving you standing there, heart racing, your mind spinning. you hate how easily she can mess with you. how, with just a few words, she can throw your whole mood off balance.

you let out a frustrated sigh, grabbing a random dress from the rack and heading toward the fitting rooms. you need a minute to collect yourself, to get away from karina’s stupidly perfect calmness, and figure out why she’s making you feel so rattled.

but as you walk away, you can feel her eyes on you again. watching, waiting. and it only makes your pulse quicken even more.

as you step out of the fitting room, tugging at the hem of the shirt you just tried on, your sister's voice cuts through the air. “you should just tell her how you feel, y/n!”

your eyes widen, and you freeze on the spot, glaring at your sister as if that would make her shut up. she says it so casually, like it’s no big deal, but your heart is practically pounding out of your chest. what the hell is she thinking, dropping that in front of karina?

you sneak a glance at karina, who’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest. she’s leaning against the wall, her black leather jacket making her look effortlessly cool as usual. her expression doesn’t give much away, but there’s a small quirk of her eyebrow that tells you she’s definitely heard what your sister just said.

“what the hell are you talking about?” you snap, rolling your eyes and giving your sister a hard shove. “you sound ridiculous.”

your sister just shrugs, clearly not picking up on the tension between you and karina. “i’m just saying! it’s obvious.”

you scoff, crossing your arms and glancing at karina again, trying to read her. her jaw is clenched, and she’s staring right at you, not saying a word, but that stupid smirk she always has is creeping up.

“let’s just go. i’m hungry,” you mutter, eager to change the subject. you brush past your sister and head toward the exit, not even waiting for karina to follow. but of course, she does, her boots thudding against the floor behind you.

outside the store, you try to ignore how close she’s walking next to you, her presence making you feel both irritated and flustered at the same time. why does she have to be so... calm? like she knows something you don’t.

“you’re acting real bratty today,” karina finally says, her deep voice low, like she’s amused by your attitude.

you stop in your tracks and glare at her. “i’m not acting bratty. i’m just not in the mood for this,” you snap back, refusing to let her get under your skin any more than she already has.

karina’s smirk grows wider, and she steps closer, towering over you just enough to make your breath catch. she reaches out and flicks your forehead lightly, like she’s teasing you. “sure, whatever you say, princess.”

your cheeks flush with both embarrassment and frustration. “don’t call me that,” you mutter, though your voice lacks the bite you want it to have.

karina just chuckles, sliding her hands into her jacket pockets as she keeps walking, clearly unfazed by your attitude. you bite your lip, feeling even more annoyed that she’s so good at getting a reaction out of you.

by the time you all pile into the car to head home, the tension between you and karina is palpable. you slide into the backseat, crossing your arms and staring out the window, pretending like you’re not bothered by her.

but every now and then, you catch her eyes flicking to you through the rearview mirror. she doesn’t say anything, but you can feel her watching you, and it drives you insane.

later that day, while you're lounging on your bed, phone in hand, you scroll through your social media feed without much thought, until a particular post makes you stop. it's from the new girl at school—a blonde who's been turning heads since she arrived. what catches your eye, though, is the company she’s keeping. in a series of photos, she’s with karina. they're both laughing, standing way too close, and sharing what looks like an inside joke. karina’s usual cool demeanour is softened, and it rubs you the wrong way.

your stomach churns as you swipe through more pictures. the blonde has tagged karina in a couple of them. in one, their shoulders are pressed together, and in another, karina’s hand is casually resting on the back of her chair, almost possessively. the knot in your chest tightens, and you toss your phone aside, sitting up as if that will shake the irritation building inside you.

why does she look so comfortable around her? you wonder, pacing your room as your thoughts spiral. you try to brush it off—karina’s popular, after all, people gravitate towards her. but this feels different. the thought of this girl spending more time with her than you makes your chest ache in a way that catches you off guard. you hate that it's bothering you this much. i don’t even care that much... right? but deep down, you know that’s a lie.

the next day at school, the nagging jealousy follows you around like a shadow. during lunch, you find yourself sitting across from karina, your eyes scanning her face as she casually eats, scrolling through her phone like nothing's on her mind. but it’s all you can think about.

you take a deep breath, trying to sound casual as you speak up. “so… who’s that new girl? the blonde.” you fiddle with the fork in your hand, poking at your food without really eating.

karina glances up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. “new girl?” she echoes, almost like she’s oblivious. she’s toying with you. you know she remembers.

you clear your throat, trying to sound nonchalant as you add, “you two seemed pretty chummy on her post.”

karina’s lips curl into a small, amused smirk. “oh, her? she’s in my biology class. we worked on a project together. no big deal.”

“no big deal?” you echo, feigning indifference, but you can’t stop the edge from creeping into your voice. “she seems pretty into you.”

karina’s smirk only grows. “what? are you jealous?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “me? jealous? please. i just thought it was interesting, that’s all.”

karina sets her phone down and leans in closer, resting her elbows on the table, her gaze never leaving yours. “you’re cute when you’re jealous, y/n.”

your cheeks flush instantly at her words, but you refuse to let her see how much she’s getting to you. “i’m not jealous,” you grumble, though even you can tell it sounds unconvincing. “i just don’t like the idea of you being so... friendly with random girls.”

karina tilts her head, her gaze softening slightly. “random girls? she’s just a friend, y/n. we worked on a project together, nothing more.” she sounds sincere, but her playful smirk never fully disappears. it’s like she’s reveling in how worked up you’re getting.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, playing with the edge of your sleeve, “she looked pretty cozy for ‘just a friend.’”

karina leans even closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. “you know,” she says, eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, “if you want my attention, all you have to do is ask.”

your breath catches in your throat. you’re not used to karina being this direct. she’s always been confident, sure, but this—this teasing, almost predatory energy—is making your heart race in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“who said i wanted your attention?” you try to snap back, but your voice is quieter, weaker, and you can tell karina’s picking up on it.

karina leans back, her smirk widening as if she’s won some silent battle. “oh, trust me, y/n. i can tell.”

you huff, crossing your arms tighter over your chest, but you don’t argue further. the truth is, you *do* want her attention—have wanted it for a while now. but admitting that feels too much like giving her the upper hand, and you’re not about to hand that over so easily.

karina watches you for a moment, her eyes twinkling with amusement. she knows exactly how to push your buttons, and she’s enjoying every second of it. “don’t worry,” she says, voice softer but still teasing. “you don’t have to be jealous of anyone else. i’m not going anywhere.”

you bite your lip, trying to keep the blush from creeping up your neck. “i’m not jealous,” you insist, but even you can hear how weak it sounds now.

karina just chuckles, shaking her head as she goes back to her phone, but not before giving you a knowing look that makes your heart skip a beat.

“sure, y/n,” she murmurs. “sure.”

the sound of the door dings again, the cheery chime contrasting sharply with the heavy sigh you can’t help but let escape your lips as you settle back into your chair, stirring your iced latte without any real interest. the hum of the coffee shop, alive with the chatter of customers and the clinking of dishes, fades into a dull background noise as your attention drifts elsewhere. your sister, ningning, somehow managed to drag you into this little outing with her friends—definitely not the most thrilling way to spend your weekend. sure, the place is cute enough, but after an hour of listening to them ramble on about the latest trends and drama, you feel like you might just slip into a coma.

“thanks again for dragging me here, ning,” you mutter under your breath, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “really doing wonders for my social calendar.”

ningning, ever the optimist, just rolls her eyes playfully, busy laughing with her friends as they chat animatedly about something you couldn’t care less about. you zone out, drumming your fingers against the table as the door dings again, signalling yet another group of people entering.

your gaze drifts lazily across the table to where karina is sitting, completely engrossed in conversation with the new girl—some blonde transfer student who’s been soaking up attention like it’s her job since she showed up. karina, for her part, seems to be enjoying it far too much. she leans in a little closer, her expression relaxed, laughing at something the blonde said.

you can’t stop the eye roll that follows. typical.

karina’s never like this around you, but here she is, laughing like she’s never had more fun in her life. you shift in your seat, your annoyance simmering as you watch the two of them. they’re sitting just a little too close, and karina’s smile is just a little too bright. you tap your fingers impatiently on the table, waiting for the conversation to shift back to something even remotely interesting, but no one else seems to notice the elephant in the room—you.

with every joke exchanged between them, your patience wears thinner, until you just can’t hold back anymore. the sarcasm slips out before you can stop yourself.

“wow, karina,” you say, your voice dripping with faux enthusiasm. “you and your new bestie seem to be having such a great time. should we give you two some space? maybe you’d prefer to continue this riveting conversation alone?”

the table falls silent instantly. ningning’s eyes widen, and the other girls glance at each other awkwardly, unsure of how to react. karina, though, barely blinks. she turns her head toward you, raising an eyebrow, and the corner of her lips twitch as if she’s more amused than annoyed.

“what’s your deal?” she asks, her tone as casual as ever, like your little outburst barely registered. she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as if to match your stance.

“my deal?” you echo, letting out a scoff as you lean forward, resting your chin in your hand. “oh, nothing. just admiring how fast you make friends. must be nice, really.”

karina’s eyes flicker with amusement as she glances between you and the blonde, who’s now awkwardly fiddling with her coffee cup. “oh, come on, y/n,” she says, her voice smooth, almost teasing. “are you really that bothered?”

you tilt your head, giving her a saccharine smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “bothered? no, not at all. just enjoying the show.” you gesture loosely to the two of them, adding, “it’s like a cute little rom-com, right in front of me. really, I’m thrilled for you.”

karina narrows her eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. “you’re jealous,” she states plainly, not a question—more like she’s calling you out, the way she always does. and it infuriates you.

you scoff again, louder this time, and toss your hair over your shoulder with dramatic flair. “me? jealous? of that?” you glance at the blonde, who’s now clearly uncomfortable but doing her best to pretend she’s not. “please. I just think it’s cute, that’s all. watching you two pretend you’re starring in some hallmark movie.”

karina just chuckles, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table as she fixes you with an infuriatingly calm stare. “yeah? well, from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you’re the one starring in a soap opera. all that drama for nothing, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, pushing your chair back slightly, but you can’t help the way your heart races as karina’s gaze stays locked on yours. she’s always been able to get under your skin, and you hate it. hate how she can stay so calm and collected while you’re practically fuming.

“right. because you know me so well,” you fire back, crossing your arms again, this time more defensively.

karina shrugs, that lazy smirk still on her lips. “i do know you,” she says, her tone annoyingly confident. “better than you think.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to snap again. you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s right. the truth is, you are jealous. but admitting that would feel like handing her a win, and you’re not about to do that.

before you can come up with a witty retort, karina glances over at the blonde, who’s now pretending to check her phone. “look, y/n, we’re just talking. it’s really not that deep.”

“right,” you say, drawing out the word. “just talking. and all that laughing and flirting? just casual, right?”

karina chuckles, shaking her head slightly. “flirting? really, y/n?” she leans forward a little more, her voice dropping, making your pulse quicken. “if i wanted to flirt, you’d know it.”

you freeze, your breath catching in your throat as her words hang in the air between you. she’s toying with you, and you hate how easily she can make your heart skip a beat.

“oh, please,” you finally manage, but your voice is a little quieter now, a little less confident. “you’re full of it.”

karina’s smirk only widens. “maybe,” she admits, leaning back in her chair, looking way too pleased with herself. “but it’s fun watching you get all worked up.”

you open your mouth to fire back, but nothing comes out. you’re too caught off guard by how effortlessly she’s turned the tables on you.

arriving back at the estate, you rush off the jeep, leaving ningning in the driver’s seat, and stomp towards your room, heart thudding in your chest. your heels click angrily against the marble floor, and the second you reach your bedroom, you throw yourself onto the bed, burying your face in the plush pillows. a muffled scream escapes your lips as you let out all the pent-up frustration.

how dare she? how could karina just... dismiss your feelings like that, in front of everyone, no less? it’s not like you even wanted her attention in the first place—at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself all this time. but seeing her with the blonde girl, laughing and leaning in like that, had struck a nerve you didn’t know was so raw.

you flip over onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as you replay the entire café scene over in your head. "if i wanted to flirt, you’d know it." you mocked the girl in a baby voice

god, why did she have to say that? why did she have to be so smug about it? it’s infuriating how easily she gets under your skin, how she knows exactly which buttons to press.

staring at the ceiling, replaying the day in your head like a bad movie. karina had been laughing, smiling, totally caught up in her conversation with the blonde—leaning in, listening like whatever that girl had to say was the most interesting thing in the world. it was infuriating.

she never paid attention to you like that. at least, not lately.

you grab a pillow and smother your face with it, trying to block out the feelings that have been gnawing at you ever since you stormed off and practically slammed your bedroom door behind you. karina had a way of getting under your skin, but today? today, it had hit differently. you weren’t just annoyed—you were jealous. though admitting that, even to yourself, felt like swallowing glass.

your phone buzzes on your nightstand, and for a moment, you think about ignoring it. probably just ningning wondering where you went off to, or one of her friends in the group chat. but something nags at you, and before you can stop yourself, you reach for it.

karina’s name lights up your screen.

karina: open the door. i’m outside.

your heart skips a beat. you scramble out of bed, peeking through the curtains, and there she is. leaning against her car, hands shoved in her pockets, looking like she just stepped out of some cheesy rom-com.

you hesitate for a second, debating whether to leave her out there or actually let her in. your stubborn side screams to make her wait, but you know you can’t. not when she’s standing there like that, looking all casual and unbothered, the way she always does.

with a huff, you stomp downstairs and swing open the door, crossing your arms defensively. “what are you doing here?”

karina glances up, her cool gaze locking onto yours as she pushes off the car and steps closer, hands still buried in her jacket pockets. “we need to talk.”

“talk about what? you had plenty to say earlier with your new bestie,” you snap, immediately feeling childish, but unable to stop yourself.

karina doesn’t flinch. instead, she steps up onto the porch, her tall frame making her presence even more commanding. “y/n, cut the crap. you’ve been acting weird all day. i’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

“nothing’s going on,” you lie, turning your back to her, but you don’t close the door. “i just don’t want to deal with it.”

“deal with what?” she presses, her voice dropping lower, firmer, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “you were practically fuming back there. don’t act like everything’s fine.”

you bite your lip, annoyed that she can see through you so easily. “i said it’s nothing, karina. you’re making it a bigger deal than it is.”

“y/n, stop,” she says, her tone now leaving no room for argument. she steps inside, her boots making soft thuds on the hardwood as she closes the door behind her. “tell me what’s really going on.”

you glare at her, your defences still up, but you can’t help feeling cornered. her calm, unwavering stare makes your heart race, and you hate how easily she can unsettle you.

“fine,” you snap, folding your arms tighter across your chest. “you wanna know? you ignored me all day for that blonde, and it pissed me off. happy now?”

karina raises an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly as she steps even closer. “that’s what this is about? you’re jealous?”

you scoff, turning away from her. “no, i’m not jealous,” you mutter, but even you don’t believe your own words. “i just... i don’t get why you were all over her. it was annoying.”

“i wasn’t all over her,” she says, her voice calm but firm as she steps around to face you again. “we were just talking.”

“right,” you mumble, still refusing to meet her eyes. “just talking. whatever.”

karina sighs, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “y/n, why won’t you just admit it? you’re upset because you like me.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you freeze. her words hang in the air between you, and for a second, you wonder if you heard her wrong.

“what?” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

karina steps closer, her hand lifting to gently tilt your chin up so you’re forced to look at her. her dark eyes are intense, and for once, there’s no teasing smirk on her lips. she looks serious—dead serious. “you heard me.”

your heart pounds in your chest as her fingers brush against your jaw, sending a wave of heat rushing through you. this is not how you expected the conversation to go. you try to come up with a retort, something sarcastic to throw back at her, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“karina, i...” you start, but the words die on your lips.

she’s so close now, her presence almost overwhelming as she looks down at you, waiting for your response. you swallow hard, feeling the weight of her gaze pressing down on you.

“you don’t have to say anything,” karina says softly, her hand sliding down from your chin to rest on your shoulder, grounding you. “but you need to stop pretending. i know how you feel. i’ve known for a while.”

you blink up at her, stunned. “what?”

karina smiles, just a little, but it’s softer than her usual smirk. “i’m not blind, y/n. and i’m not stupid. you’ve been acting like this for months.”

“acting like what?” you ask, your voice sounding small even to yourself.

“like you’re trying to push me away,” she says, her hand gently squeezing your shoulder. “but i’m not going anywhere.”

you bite your lip, feeling tears of frustration welling up in your eyes. “i’m not trying to push you away,” you mumble. “i just... i don’t know how to deal with this.”

karina sighs softly, stepping even closer so there’s barely any space between the two of you. “then let me help you deal with it,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“i don’t want to seem needy,” you mutter, still refusing to look her in the eye.

karina lets out a soft laugh, her thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “you’re not needy. you’re just... you. and that’s enough.”

you blink up at her, feeling your walls crumble bit by bit. her touch is so gentle, so warm, and it makes your heart ache in a way that scares you. “yeah, well... maybe i didn’t want to be needy.”

karina’s lips curve into a smirk, but it’s full of affection rather than amusement. “you’re not needy. but even if you were, i wouldn’t care.”

you scoff lightly, but the sound comes out weaker than you intend. “you say that now...”

“i mean it,” she says, her voice low as she leans in slightly. “y/n, i like you. i’ve liked you for a long time.”

your breath catches again, and this time, you can’t hide the way your pulse quickens. “what?”

karina chuckles softly, shaking her head. “god, you’re so dense sometimes,” she teases, though her tone is filled with fondness. “i’m saying i like you. more than just friends. more than anything else.”

you stare at her, your mind racing to catch up with what she’s just said. “you... like me?”

karina nods, her expression softening as she leans in closer, her forehead resting gently against yours. “yeah, y/n. i like you. so stop pushing me away, okay?”

you blink rapidly, trying to process everything. your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, and for a moment, you feel like you’re going to pass out. “but... what about that blonde?”

karina pulls back slightly, looking at you with an amused smile. “the blonde? you seriously think i’d be interested in her?”

“i don’t know!” you blurt out, feeling flustered. “you seemed pretty into her.”

karina laughs, shaking her head. “god, y/n, you’re something else.” she cups your face in her hands again, her thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. “i was just being polite. i didn’t even remember her name half the time.”

you feel your face heat up, embarrassed by your own jealousy. “oh.”

karina chuckles softly, her gaze softening as she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to worry about anyone else,” she murmurs against your skin. “you’re the one i want. always have been.”

you bite your lip, feeling a mixture of relief and nervousness flood through you. “you mean that?”

you blink up at her, feeling your walls crumble just a little more. without thinking, you lean in, pressing your forehead against her chest and letting out a frustrated groan. “ugh, why do you have to be so nice to me?”

karina just laughs softly, running her fingers through your hair. “because someone has to take care of you,” she teases, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “you’re such a brat sometimes.”

you scoff, but the warmth in her voice makes it impossible to stay mad. “i’m not a brat. you just make me act like one.”

“oh, i make you act like that?” she teases again, her voice full of affection as she hugs you tighter. “come on, let’s go inside before ningning sees us and starts asking questions.”

with a reluctant nod, you let her guide you back into the house, her arm draped protectively over your shoulders as the two of you walk upstairs together. the frustration and jealousy from earlier seem to melt away with every step, and by the time you reach your room, you feel lighter, like maybe—just maybe—it’s okay to let someone in, to let someone take care of you for once.

the days after karina’s confession are a blur of stolen glances, secret smiles, and moments that feel like something out of a dream. you still can’t quite believe it, but here you are—walking through the school hallways with karina’s arm slung casually over your shoulders, her presence as grounding as it is exciting.

and it doesn’t take long for people to notice.

whispers follow you both as you navigate the halls, and it’s not hard to tell what everyone’s talking about. the once-rumored, now-confirmed it couple—you and karina. some people stare in disbelief, others in envy, but you don’t care. karina, as always, seems unfazed, her usual calm, confident demeanor only heightened when she’s with you.

you find yourself tucked under her arm more often than not, her protective hold over you almost possessive but in a way that makes your heart flutter. she’s always close—walking you to class, waiting by your locker, her eyes softening whenever they land on you.

at lunch, you sit with ningning and the others, but now it’s different. karina’s hand rests casually on your thigh under the table, her thumb drawing lazy circles against your skin as she chats with the group. ningning teases you endlessly, of course, but even she can’t deny that you and karina just fit.

"you two are disgusting," ningning jokes, rolling her eyes when she catches karina whisper something in your ear that makes you giggle. "i can’t believe my best friend and my sister are the couple of the year."

karina just smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “get used to it,” she says simply, and you can’t help but blush.

the entire school knows about you now—karina’s arm around you is proof enough—but neither of you care. as long as she’s by your side, you don’t mind the attention.

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vin-taege · 1 month ago

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Chishiya x female!reader who finds comfort by him playing with her hair?

Like Old Times

Summary: With nightmares plaguing you recently, Chishiya decides to watch over you sleep to make you feel safer.

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Words: 467

Notes: implied pre-established relationship, sorry it's a bit short >< wanted this to be a sleepy time drabble !

Soft moonlight streamed through the sheer curtains. A dull thump of the bass from the party a few floors down went on steadily, though you couldn't hear much of the cheering anymore. Everyone else in the Beach must have been winding down—everyone except you, at least.

Cold sweat stuck to your skin. Suddenly, the comforter felt heavier, like it was chaining you to the bed. You tried your best to wriggle free from it, careful not to jolt Chishiya. However, he's been up even before you woke.

"I'm here," he rasped. His cool fingers tugged your shirt, bringing you closer to him. He could feel you tremble a little, your eyes fixed somewhere far away amidst their bleariness. "I've got you."

"Sorry I woke you up," you mumbled, tucking yourself into his chest. The soft cotton of his shirt was more than enough for a makeshift pillow. You drowned yourself in his scent—the light menthol of his shampoo undercut by the sweetness of that pink soap he used.

"You didn't." He rubbed small circles on the base of your spine. "I was up plotting."

You let out a small snort, eyes refocusing on his face. Platinum blonde hair fell messily on the sheets and around his face. Even in the darkness, you could see his lips quirk up.

Both of you stayed like that for minutes you didn't count. His hand on the small of your back, your face nuzzled into his chest. At some point, Chishiya thought you had fallen asleep already.

He wasn't one to pry. It was something you both hated and loved about him. He always waited. His never-ending patience was something you could never fully wrap your head around. But you do know that Chishiya was always at the ready to listen. He always lets you come to him first rather than pressing an answer out of you.

"It was that stupid dream again."

He hummed in understanding, holding you tighter, eliminating any spaces between your bodies. "I should get you some melatonin next time we're out."

"I'm scared I won't make it back—"

"Stop." His voice was firm, betrayed by the smallest stutter in his breath. "We'll make it. I won't let anything happen to you. We'll go back to our apartment. I'll take less overtime, and we'll go on a month-long vacation, okay?"

His fingers wound around locks of your hair, digging his nails lightly into your scalp. He gently scratched the top of your head, applying light pressure to ease the tension in your body. You let out a sigh of contentment, mumbling into his chest. "That feels nice, Chishi."

"Yeah?" A small smile was on his face. "Just like old times in Tokyo?"

"Mhmm," you mindlessly agreed, already falling back to sleep. "Just like old times."

#alice in borderland imagines #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #aib imagines #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #aib x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #asks #requested

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sinofwriting · 6 months ago

Text

All Relaxed - Jenson Button/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 1,698 Summary: Jenson sees how stressed Logan and his girlfriend are and just wants to get rid of it for them. Note(s): Slightly NSFW, Dom/Sub Relationship/Dynamics. Dom!Jenson, Sub!Logan, Sub!Reader. Don’t be like them and approach a brand new dom/sub relationship like this, I beg of you. Also, no one ask how this ship popped into my head, I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts.

Masterlist | Support Me!

Jenson watches as both Logan and Y/N practically stumble into where the fan stage would be happening. You’d think they had just woken up, but he can tell that still sleep is invading them. The circles under their eyes have worsened and his worry grows when he notices them both shake their head at food being offered. The same thing they did yesterday as well.

He more than knew how rough Formula 1 could be and that was before they made the calendar twenty-four races long. But he never had been that exhausted. Some of it was without a doubt the treatment of Williams affecting him and Jenson had tried alleviating that, trying to somewhat step into the mentor role, but it was obvious that he wasn’t doing enough.

And poor Y/N had broken down in his arms the last time they saw each other about everything going on with her family and school.

He wants to fix it. To see them without any worries, to see them relaxed. All loose limbs, no tension, eye bags and circles gone. He’d like to see them not look so gaunt as well. He’s sure Elias is fine, but it’s obvious he doesn’t know Logan. Benny would have straightened Logan’s current less than stellar eating habits in a few days and Jenson knows it’s been at least a month of Logan barely eating anything unless it’s one of his premade meals.

It’s the thought of wanting to see them all relaxed that has him begin to plot. It would be far too easy to invite them to his house in California. Undisturbed, no close enough neighbors to really bother them, not that he planned on really having them leave the house. If anyone spotted them it would be the end of a peaceful trip. And he knows that they are both free for the next two weeks. He had heard Logan mention it just the day before.

He starts making a list of groceries that need to be ordered, then he makes an email to a friend who owns a private jet and owes him a favor. He texts his housekeeper, asking if she wouldn’t mind going to his house today if she has time and straightening up the place.

As he starts to order the groceries, his attention is drawn away by the sound of a breathless sort of sigh. His eyebrows quirk up when he notices that it was her and he follows her eyes and fully understands, his throat going a little dry.

Logan had been put into a tight-fitting team shirt, something either tailored to him or knowing Williams and their budget they had just given him a smaller size and it looked good on him. The thin fabric clinging to every muscle and inch of his upper half. Jenson hadn’t realized that Logan had gained that much muscle since last year, even despite not eating it seemed he was keeping it well.

He watches as Logan smiles at him before looking at his girlfriend, sending her a small wink and Jenson can’t help but look at her, see how she reacts, and he shifts in his seat seeing the grin on her face, the way her shoulders have slightly relaxed.

What he wouldn’t give to see them both all relaxed for him, laying flat on their backs in his bed, letting him take care of them. He nearly drops his phone as the thought strikes him. Fuck.

—

Jenson watches amused as they walk around his house. Perhaps it was stupid to still invite them to his house after realizing he wanted them both in his bed. But he couldn’t continue to let them go about running on fumes.

“You guys go get settled, take a nap, rest, and I’ll cook dinner.”

“Let me help, Jenson.”

He shakes his head at her offer, “I’ve got it, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you both when it’s all ready.”

She looks ready to protest again, Logan as well, but he gives them both a stern look, and a simmer of arousal hits him as they both immediately start walking to the guest bedroom with quiet thank you’s. This might end up being a bit harder than he thought.

It does end up being harder than he thought, a lot harder in fact. It seems him realizing he didn’t just find them both attractive but also just plain and simple liked them had opened the floodgates. And their responses to him taking care of them was certainly not helping either.

It was only the third day of them being here but Jenson was sure he was going to cause a bit of an issue with the water with how many cold showers he might end up taking. His satisfaction of them letting him take care of them instantly turned to arousal.

That same day however after dinner as they laze about in the living room while he cleans up the dishes he realizes that they might feel the same way. They can’t stop looking at him. At first, he thought maybe they wanted something but were too shy to say something but when he looked over, they both looked away, clearly flustered at being caught and when he went back to cleaning up, their eyes were on him again, lingering.

It’s confirmation, but he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it, not until hours later as he does his rounds in the house, making sure everything is locked up and he passes their room and he hears them both.

The light sound of skin coming together, small whines and breaths that are more like gasps. His hand palms himself before he can stop it and then he hears it. His name. He freezes, thinking he must have misheard, but then he hears it again, the both of them moaning his name.

He barely makes it to his bedroom, back against the door as he presses his hand into his bottoms and jerks himself off, finishing quickly and making a mess of his sweatpants.

Jenson of course brings it up the next morning. The two are so flustered that even if he hadn’t heard he could guess that something happened.

“Good sleep?” He starts off with, hiding his smirk by taking a drink of coffee.

They both nod, shoulders tensing a little and that has him frowning, setting his mug down. He just started making progress on their tension. “You both sounded lovely.”

Logan’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at him while she gasps, hands coming up to cover her face.

His eyes flicker between the both of them. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you both say my name like that again. Maybe with the visuals as well.”

She makes a squeaky noise at his words and Logan’s cheeks have managed to turn more pink.

“And just to be clear, I wouldn’t want it to be a one time thing, or just sex.”

“But, you want the both of us? I mean more with the both of us?”

Jenson smiles gently at Logan’s nervousness. “Yes, the both of you. I want to take care of you two. And sex doesn’t have to be on the table, I’ll still happily do it without anything sexual, but I figured I’d put it on the table.”

Logan looks a little confused but before Jenson can say anything else, she’s giving a slight tug to Logan’s shirt.

“He’s offering to be our dom.” Her voice is quiet, the words clearly meant for Logan, but her eyes flicker over to him as well.

The American’s eyes widened. “Oh. I, we’ve never,”

“Done this before?”

They both shake their heads.

“I sort of figured. It’s not something I’ve done lots of either to be clear and never on this level. The last time I dommed was years ago and it was just sex. What I would like with us would be more than sex if we even agree to have sex be a part of it at all or to do this.”

“Why do you want to?”

Jenson smiles at her question. “I like you both and want to take care of you. You’re both stressed, spiraling. Barely sleeping or eating. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears with how much tension you both are carrying. I want to ease that, take everything off your shoulders, make it better or rather easier to deal with.”

“And you like taking care of people.”

“Not everyone.” He corrects. “I’m a bit too selfish for that, but certain people,” and his eyes flicker between them. “Absolutely.”

It’s not a very long talk, not as detailed as it should be. But he promises himself that he will sit down with them tomorrow to talk everything out, but they’ve got the basics down. They all are interested in the sexual and in private, like Jenson’s home, are happy to be submissive but don’t want it to bleed into their work/student life as much as they can. He makes sure they know to tell him no. He doesn’t foresee himself pressing too hard about taking breaks and such that it would make their work and student life suffer, but it’s always a possibility and he is far from perfect.

And now not even two hours after waking up he’s got them both in his bed and he can’t help the slight amusement he feels seeing them both wearing Logan’s boxer briefs, he’ll have to see about getting them in his next time. His amusement doesn’t last long however as he takes them in, both laying flat on their backs, upper halves completely bare, both stunning.

“Gorgeous.” He murmurs, sitting at the end of the bed and pressing a kiss to Logan’s calf and then hers. “Both of you look gorgeous for me.”

Her breath audibly stutters, while Logan lets out a keen, fingers twisting in the sheets.

He tuts at the tight grip, running his fingers over the younger man’s until he loosens it. “That’s better. Let’s get you both all relaxed for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Jenson.” They say together and his cock twitches. Fuck is he lucky.

#jenson button x reader x logan sargeant #jenson button imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #sins fics

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verloonati · 2 months ago

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Thoughts on the Interstellar song contest:

Okay this was beat for beat a very predictable story, but enjoyable enough with plenty of side characters that actually feel pretty fleshed out in a few lines with the exception of the hellions, more on that later, but for an episode that was supposed to have a lot of cool alien design it's a bit of a shame that they were mostly in the background. I would have loved a bit more songs as well.

Now the Hellia plot is really fucking tacky, especially in the context of it being an eurovision episode and the eurovision being, in reality, one of the biggest zionist propaganda outfit towards its european allies. Making the Hellia thing a direct parallel to the palestinian genocide makes it really gross that the story's resolution is 'if your getting genocided you shouldn't take arms about it, you should instead sing a good song to an impossibly global audience and gain their sympathy'. Which also makes the Hellion's plot of wanting to kill everybody in the audience really disenginuous. It's a typical case of the 'rebel for a just cause is taken by extremism' trope and ESPECIALLY within the context of an actual real life genocide it puts itself against as direct comparison, ESPECIALLY on the very day that genocidal state is pushing yet another of their deadlier offensive yet, it just makes it a really liberal take that has no bearing with how the world works.

the hellion design also feels really weird because 'human (or human adjacent since earth blew up) with horns' are victim of the worst discrimination is a RWBY 'no but anime girl with animal ears are the one being discriminated against'. Also plays into that trope of a black man being the most space racist character, but fret not he learns the error of his ways after hearing a sad song.

Freddie fox's performance as Kid is the one thing that kind of save his character despite the writing and implications of his character. He just oozes that maneskin cringy Bisexual Mick Jaeggery emo adjacent asshole persona, it's awesome. i bet he reeks of cold tobacco as well.

Belinda change of heart on warming up to the doctor do feel a little bit sudden, we only had her for four episode and that only just started in story and the engine. Another gap to fix for big finish with an ellipse or something

The songs were awesome i do wish they were more

Dugga doo Dugga doo Dugga doo Dugga dugga dugga doo

I have no idea who the fuck rylan is. But his inclusion as actual real life tv host Rylan Clark is so stupid it cycles back to awesome. So does Graham Norton's inclusion. The implication of Earth being gone since 2025 at this point is hilarious cause it means that Rylan is gonna get cryogenically frozen and smuggled out of Earth to eternally host the space eurovision within the current real life week.

The visuals of the actual terror attack are awesome. Like genuinely horrifying and haunting. there's that one shot with a mass of people getting sucked out in the void, it's one of dw's most beautiful visuals ever imo.

On that note, i really wish people would have stayed dead. I understand that would maybe be a little too far, but come the fuck on. it gives the doctor's crash out a lot less impact, because like. He just told us that 'they can survive' which like. we know how a dw episode goes, if we're told they're actually still alive, we know they're gonna get revived at the end. The optics of the doctor beating the shit out of a desperate guy trying to do something about his people's genocide is yeah. not great. tho love the character detail of him doing all he can to not bloody his actual hands.

I'll wait until the finale to give my thoughts on susan.

wish they would stop calling him last of the time lords. The Second Gallifrey destruction killed a lot of people sure but like. This wasn't during the war, there was a LOT of exiles and renegades. Where are those. The master is out there, rassillon is out there, the sisterhood is out there. Tecteun made it out until flux. like why does he keep saying that, it's good branding but it makes no sense

RANI TRUTHER KEEP WINNING, mrs flood cameos were really fucking annoying but yeah she is the one and only, hate that she does get bigenerated it's supposed to be a rare almost unheard of thing, i do hope it's the last one we get, but god do i love Flood getting immediately subservient to her new self.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #Fifteenth doctor #belinda chandra #doctor who season 2 #15th doctor #Mrs flood #the interstellar song contest

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casino-lights · 1 month ago

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so we have confirmation that veilguard was made in a year and a half. that's understandably such a time crunch and must have put unimaginable stress on the dev team, especially with the mass effect team coming in partway through. I do have empathy for the writers. no one deserves to lose their job at a time like this, especially not after such a roller coaster of a development cycle and after working on this series for so many years.

however.

obsidian made kotor 2, a game praised for its writing and many fans' favorite of the pair, in 14 months. they then proceeded to make fallout: new vegas, again praised for its writing and hailed as a shining example of video game storytelling, in 18 months. a lot of content was ultimately cut from both of these games, but in kotor's case, it was lovingly added back in by fans over the years despite not being especially easy to mod because the fans were so passionate about what they already had that they wanted to enhance it. these games are both known to be kinda janky as well. but the games at their core have satisfying stories, characters, and an incredible overall narrative that feels satisfying and fits with their respective universes, maintains respect for the established lore and characters, and is tonally consistent with the atmosphere and themes of previous games. hell, dragon age 2 was also made in about the same time frame based on what I could find, and as much as the assets were reused there and it could be occasionally glitchy, it remains one of the best bioware narratives with some of their most memorable characters, and it accomplished that while both keeping to the lore and vibe of the dragon age series AND expanding it into new territory.

I am aware that there are differences like engines, era, expectations, pushes from management, etc, but I'm mostly focusing on the writing and the narrative team's priorities. I wouldn't care if they reused assets to save time and money. I wouldn't care if a couple side quests had to go, or some character arcs were a little less polished, or some side characters were cut entirely. honestly I would have preferred it if some of the characters WERE cut entirely. if you're just going to spit on all of her character development, don't bring morrigan back. cut some of that banter in the lighthouse and let me talk to my companions properly. cut that goddamn arena and put those resources toward fleshing out the lords of fortune. even if the rest of the team wanted that entire faction cut so they could focus on other things, cut the fucking faction.

I will never apologize for rightfully criticizing the choices the writers made while making this game. the game talks to you - both you as the player AND you as the character - like you're stupid. repeating things over and over again just to make sure you Really Get It, dumbing down so many aspects of its own lore, reducing any kind of conflict to therapy speak or an HR meeting, etc. rook has no characterization to speak of and their dialogue and tone is wildly inconsistent depending on which npc you're speaking to at the time. why is rook clever enough to do playful, flirty hunter/prey banter with davrin but also too awkward to properly flirt with harding? the one canonically nonbinary neurodivergent companion frequently expresses themselves by growling and roaring and their individuality and competency are repeatedly undermined by their own writer's narrative decisions and banter. the game disregards its own lore and at times straight up contradicts itself. it's pretty, but lacks substance, and fails to live up to the standards a lot of us had for a dragon age game.

I won't pretend I know everything that went on behind the scenes but I think a year and a half is more than enough time to write a better narrative than what we got, even with some pushback from another dev team. I've seen countless thinkpieces by fans who have come up with solutions for plot holes and fixes for the overall narrative, and these are people who came up with this stuff in a matter of a few days or weeks, or sometimes just a few hours. you can't blame me for thinking veteran bioware writers - who SHOULD know their own lore by now - could have come up with something better than this in that amount of time, regardless of the limitations. choices were made and things were prioritized that shouldn't have been. I do not forgive the writers, EA, or bioware execs for this, and I will continue to criticize the responsible parties for the product we were sold, which includes criticizing the writers for shoddy work.

tl;dr: I don't believe the writing team made the best of the time they had and I fault them for that. but maybe that's on me for hoping that a game with its narrative led by weekes and epler would have actually been good in the first place.

#and yes i read the entire article #no it does not change my mind #weekes is number one on my bioware shit list with their fucking writer's pet and what that little bald fuck did to this franchise #but EVERYONE who signed off on this sudden switch to elves being the Best Most Important Race Ever who actually created the world #is on that shit list too #the narrative was so much better when it was more balanced #humans had their society and culture and history and dwarves and elves and qunari all had their own #and they did not make one of them gospel and disprove the others just to prop up some fucking gary stu of a character #anyway #i think this'll be my last veilguard critical post i'm sick of ranting about it and i've said my piece #i'm mourning and moving on.#i wish the animators and artists and programmers and VAs a very good life though they did so well and i mean that earnestly #but fuck the writers and fuck ea and fuck bioware's head honchos who signed off on this #all my love #dragon age: the veilguard #veilguard critical #datv critical #forgot my own tag lmao that's for the best #bioware critical #long post #gracelogs

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sanjifucker42069 · 2 years ago

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OPLA!Sanji x Reader - Blowin'

Word Count: 4.6k

I cut down some of the less, y’know, important stuff (the plot lol)

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), fem!reader, awkward first times, awkward af, the reader is a dipshit. I’m ngl this isn’t one of those cute first time fics where virgin!reader is suddenly a sex goddess, you are legitimately an idiot. As usual, written with a plus size!reader in mind.

Sanji finds out you’re a virgin. You suck his dick. Congrats!

Sanji was going to fucking lose it. Out of all the possible scenarios Sanji never once considered Nami would take you out to a bar to pick up guys. He brooded as he nursed his drink, Zoro rolling his eyes at the display. Sanji just growled. Usopp looked between them.

"How about another round? 'Nother milk Lu? Hey Sanji, why don't you come with me? I saw some hot chicks up at the bar."

Sanji just shook his head brooding. He looked to where you stood with Nami, laughing at some guy's jokes. He felt stupid at how jealous he felt.

"Hey, Sanj, man. Nami isn't gonna reciprocate y'know?" Usopp offered lightheartedly. Zoro scoffed from next to him.

"It's not about Nami for once."

---

When Sanji's eyes found you again he saw you alone with the same guy, nursing a drink. Now that Nami was gone he could see the atmosphere had changed, you didn't seem happy like before. He watched as the guy said something and you shrugged halfheartedly. The guy then proceeded to wrap his arm around you. Sanji had known you long enough to see how uncomfortable you looked. Anger flared in his chest. The final straw was seeing the guy trying to tug you out of the booth to leave. You looked so defeated, it hurt. He began stalking his way to your booth.

"C'mon sweetcheeks, let's leave this dump."

"I'm good thanks, I should get back to my friends."

"I already told you bitch, we're going. I didn't spend all this time fucking around to go home empty handed. You're lucky I even stayed once your hot friend left. I'm doing you a favour, so hurry the fuck up."

"No, I really don't want to." You began, the man snarled, grabbing your wrist.

"It wasn't a question. You owe me. I don't go for ugly, but a hole's a hole, and from the back you're probably passable."

You had tears in your eyes from embarrassment. This whole trip was a bad idea. You wish Nami would come back. As the man tugged on your wrist harder you heard that gorgeous voice ring out. You tried to hide your face so Sanji wouldn't see the tears in your eyes. That last thing you wanted was for the crew to think you're weak.

"That's no way to win hearts Sunshine. So uncouth, and frankly, disgusting behaviour."

"Who the fuck are you? How about you mind your own business?"

"And watch such a beautiful lady be treated that way?"

"Beautiful lady my ass. The only thing you can know for sure about girls like this is that their pretty pussy is untouched." The man barked out a laugh causing you to wince. He snaked his other arm to cup your breast over your dress. You saw something flash in Sanji's eyes. "And I know I'm gonna really enjoy these."

You squirmed, before biting the man. He howled in pain, releasing his hold on you. You quickly made your escape, rushing to cling to Usopp and Luffy, crying. You felt pathetic. Embarrassed that all eyes were on you.

Sanji saw red. You blinked back tears as you called out to him. Sanji was protective of all of you, but he seemed especially so of you. You knew it was because he saw you as some kind of little sister. "It's okay Sanji. Really, let's just go home. Please."

"No." He fixed the drunk man with a freezing gaze. "You dare touch someone so out of your league? I asked you nicely to piss off, but now I'm going to fucking kill you."

Before you could react Sanji had kicked the man in the chest. You watched as he began ruthlessly kicking and stomping the man, muttering profanities and sentences you couldn't understand. With a final stomp he huffed. Zoro finally pried Sanji away. You saw Nami returning, fuming. If you weren't so traumatised by the night you would have laughed at how Zoro pried Nami away too, holding the two brawlers by the scruff as they fought against it, looking like wet cats.

You don't remember how you got home. You remember Usopp covering you in his coat and dragging you out of the bar. You remember apologising to Usopp, crying that you needed to go back. The last thing you remember was Luffy running to join you, scooping you up and starting the walk back to the Going Merry, you, falling asleep in his rubbery arms.

---

"Ah my dear, you're finally awake. I made you something to eat."

You smiled tightly at him, thanking him. The way you played with your food tugged at his heartstrings. You looked so mournful. He pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it, gripping the backrest.

"C'mon lovely, don't make me have to feed you myself." He winked. Your lips twitched upwards performatively. Sanji frowned. "Look (name) about last night-"

"I'm sorry."

Confusion. "What?"

You cringed inward. "I'm....I'm sorry I ruined everyone's night."

"You didn't ruin anyone's night, that good for nothing prick did. Don't understand why you'd even go for a guy like that to be honest." He added bitterly. You frowned.

"I wouldn't normally. Everything moved so fast. He seemed nice...It was too late before I realised it's because he wanted Nami." Silence. "Once Nami left, I, well, I didn't want to cause a scene."

"So, what? You were just going to let him take advantage of you?"

You jolted, shocked. "No! No, I- there was no way he was going to-”

“(Name), love, I know you can be a bit naive but-”

Your voice was small. “He said so himself! He..." you trailed off. "He didn't 'go for ugly girls'. And besides…he was right."

Sanji frowned, angry at the world. How could anyone make you believe that you weren't beautiful? That you didn't deserve some guy trying to take advantage of you? He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve

“There's no such thing as an ugly girl (name), and if there was, I can assure you you're not one of them.”

“Not that.” Sanji took in how you winced, trying to make yourself seem smaller.

What?

Sanji felt the wind knocked out of him.

You're a virgin?" He asked, clearly shocked. You bristled with embarrassment.

"Well...yeah, but I understand how it works! It's not such a big deal, I mean...I've just, I've never had the chance."

"Have you ever...y'know, at all? Not even a handy?" You shook your head. He flushed, you were completely pure.

He felt slightly sick at how his perverted thoughts twisted that. He could be your first, ruin you for all other partners. He could be the one to take your innocence. His cock twitched at the thought. Shame flooded him. You were his friend, his, admittedly, very cute friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you this way. His mind was racing with all the obscene thoughts he'd ever had, the deviant things he dreamed of. He was disgusting. You were too innocent, he'd felt guilty before, but now he felt like he was defiling you just by thinking about you.

You took his silence as pity and pointedly looked away from him, taking a deep breath.

"It's not like I don't want to. I do. But, ugh, it's so silly...no one has ever shown any interest. I'm not exactly a goddess like Nami."

"Darling, I don't believe no one has ever shown interest." He offered a smile. Gods if you only knew how badly he ached for you. How hard you made him. Now wasn't the time for him to blow your friendship over him thinking with his dick. You were being vulnerable.

"I don't need your pity Sanji. It's okay. You don't have to give me the 'everyone's beautiful in their own way' speech. There's more to me than my lack of experience! I'm a good fighter! I have talents, I don't need to be pretty. Just, sometimes, it'd be nice.".

This wouldn't do. He had to try to fix this. He took your small hands in his, trying not to lose his breath at how warm they felt. Swinging them lightly, he stared into your eyes.

“You are a beautiful girl, you deserve way better than some kind of bastard like that. Men are pigs (name), you shouldn't trust any of them."

"I trust you."

Sanji froze. You peaked up at him shyly. He looked conflicted, and that caused you to smile sadly, misinterpreting the look. You withdrew your hands, fiddling with them in your lap. "I didn't mean that you should take one for the team Ji, I just meant that, well, I trust you. I don't think you're a pig."

"You shouldn't trust me." He lowered his voice. You stared at him, clearly taken aback. "I'm just as bad."

"No, you-"

"No. I'm an absolute pig darling. You aren't that dense surely."

You frowned. "Sure you flirt a lot with other girls, but that's just you! It's charming, non-threatening. I don't see you acting like-"

"I flirt with you too!" He tried, clearly exasperated. You smiled.

"Exactly! You make cute comments to me, and call me cute things like darling, but you're just naturally flirty."

Sanji groaned. Your smile slowly faltered. Sanji screwed his eyes shut. "I'm not 'just naturally flirty'...I mean, I am, I suppose, but I'm actually trying to flirt with you. I thought you were just being polite, but are you really that dense?"

"I....you are?"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"But, I'm..." You gestured to yourself. "You're more friendly than flirty to me?"

"You're too innocent, it's not like I could just waltz right up and tell you that I think you're hot, can I?" He bristled.

You felt electricity surge down your spine. Hot? Sanji thought you were hot? Sanji?

Sanji took your silence as disgust. "See! That's exactly why I couldn't tell you."

"You think I'm hot?" He nodded. Your grin spread, hurting your blushing cheeks. Your eyes sparkling. "You think I'M hot?!"

"Yes, okay!" He sounded almost angry.

"Sanji, you're gorgeous! I'm too awkward. Too fat. Too plain. I'm not a model or some kind of beauty. And you're telling me someone as handsome as you, thinks I'm attractive!? And I-"

You stopped, really thinking about what he said. "Innocent? I....well I suppose. I'm not that innocent though."

Sanji's nostrils flared. "Not that innocent? Please love! You prance around in those low-cut tops and shorts in front of everyone, thinking that they ain't gonna go ballistic? You're too trusting of men, thinking that we aren't all beasts inside."

You laughed, still riding the high of his praise. Sanji snarled, banging his fist on the kitchen table. "No! It's true. You think someone doesn't see the way your tits look and salivate? You don't think you would make anyone insane? You don't think I got so fucking hard when you told me you're a virgin?"

He froze, blood turning to ice, clearly regretting blurting out that last bit. You stared at him, eyes round with wonder. He avoided your gaze, cringing at what you said next.

"I...I make you hard?".

"I'm sorry (name), that was very ungentlemanly of me. I didn't mean to say that last part."

"But you did." He felt warm hands prying his open and playing with his fingers. He flitted his eyes up to see your face red, staring at him with your eyes practically sparkling with mirth. "God, I've wanted you to fuck me for ages, and now you're telling me you've actually wanted to this whole time?"

Sanji stiffened, cock twitching. He ached painfully. He felt parched, throat burning. This had to be a joke. "You...what?"

"Yeah. Fuck. I, mean, the clothing was purposeful at first, I wanted you to notice me. I had no idea it was working though, haha!"

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew? You never noticed I only wore those kinds of clothes when you were around? You never noticed how I tried to cling to you in the kitchen? I just assumed you knew and thought I was gross, so I pulled back." You laughed. "Did you seriously think that because I'm a virgin I can't think sexually?"

"But you've never-"

"You've never said anything raunchy to me like you do to other girls. I thought you saw me as a little sister. It'd be weird if someone you saw like family told you they want to suck your dick."

"Fuck." He hissed.

"Oh this is too good! Have I been torturing you?" You laughed, running a hand up his arm. "You must be so frustrated."

"You have no idea."

"I could help you."

Sanji groaned. "You can't say things like that."

"Oh." You pulled back, back to being timid. Even if it was at his expense, Sanji felt the loss of your confident persona. Fuck he really was a masochist, wasn't he? "I, um, I'd need you to guide me. But if you did want help, I'd like to be the one."

"God, you have no idea what you're doing to me." He heard you giggle lightly. He opened his eyes to see you biting your lip, staring up at him through thick lashes, a blush adorning your chubby cheeks. He throbbed.

"You could show me? I promise I'll be gentle! Please Sanji? Can I pretty please touch your dick?"

Sanji felt like he was going to explode from how cute you were.

"Fuck. Please."

You squealed in excitement, jumping up from the table, both his arms in hand. He wanted to laugh at how innocent you looked, but instead he felt a lump in his throat. You didn't notice, pulling the seated man into an awkward, crushing hug.

"C'mon! C'mon what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Go where?" He laughed at your eagerness. "In case you haven't noticed darling, we aren't exactly alone."

The way you deflated was comical. What wasn't was the wicked glint that formed in your eyes. Sanji gulped, that was never a good sign. He watched as you quickly dashed out of the kitchen. Sanji looked around, confused. Minutes passed. He got up from the table, moving over to the kitchen island, hiding his lower half behind the counter, lest one of the crew wandered in. He sighed, willing his boner away.

Bang!

The door flew open. Sanji jumped. There you stood frantically in the doorway. Your hair a mess, breathing heavy, and that wicked glint set on him. He watched as you closed the kitchen door, taking a chair and boarding the door. You grinned, stalking towards him.

No. There's no way.

"We aren't going to be disturbed." You were practically vibrating in excitement.

"What? No. Not in the kitchen. We. Eat. Here." Sanji hissed. You peeked up at him, lip pouting.

"Please? I'll make sure there's no mess left." You pleaded.

No mess? Sanji closed his eyes and groaned when he realised what you meant. You were going to be the death of him. When he opened his eyes you were in front of him, staring at him shyly. He startled.

"Can I kiss you? Or is that too far?"

Too far? He wanted to cry. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. He bent down. You grinned. He wrapped an arm around the back of your head, pulling you closer. You tipped your head up. He smiled softly before placing his lips on top of yours.

Your lips locked together like the last piece of a puzzle. You sighed, eyes flitting closed. You pushed further against him, trying desperately to pull him closer. He tasted like cigarettes but you didn't mind, an addictive taste for an addictive man. You wanted more of him. You kissed him feverishly, reluctantly pulling back for air. You stared at the taller man through lidded eyes. He gazed down at you lovingly, a blush high on his cheeks. His blue eyes studied your face closely.

Sanji laughed as with both hands you pulled his face back for another kiss. His skin was hot, your hands now cold against his cheeks. You tasted sweet and he wanted to devour you so badly. You were too cute. He felt you pull him closer to you. You were kissing and sucking at his lips before you felt it. Sanji bit back a groan, feeling your hips brush against him. He felt pure embarrassment as he heard your breath hitch, pulling away. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a groan as you experimentally pushed your hips against him harder.

"Oh my gods." He heard you whisper against him. He froze. "Oh my gods it's so-"

"We can stop if it's too much dar-LING!"

He squeaked as he felt both your hands rake down his chest, you humming contently as you kept yourself pressed against him. He felt overwhelmed at how eager you were. He'd never had someone so upfront in wanting to touch him. His cocked throbbed. You mewled lightly, causing another throb.

"Oh my god it moves?" You giggled. He cracked a smile back. You were so innocent.

Sanji had made one crucial mistake though. That was thinking that just because you were inexperienced, that meant you would be submissive. He felt you cage him against the countertop, the wood digging into his ass, your hands on him. It wasn't that he didn't like it, the dissonance was making him dizzy. He felt your hands find purchase on his waist. You breathed out a dreamy sigh.

"God your waist is so fucking tiny."

Sanji bristled with embarrassment. He tried to address it without upsetting you. "Love, that's not exactly what I want to hear."

You giggled. "I can't help it, it's so hot. You could kick my ass if you wanted, but holy fuck you're just letting me feel you up. Gods I've seen you fight, I've seen how thick your legs are, but fuck your waist is so little."

Sanji hissed. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Your hands migrated upwards, resting on his pecs. Your slow pace was driving him insane.

"Can I?" You gestured to his shirt.

"Fuck, love, I'd love to, but maybe when we have somewhere more private okay? Don't want to be too unclothed if someone tries to come in. Same with you okay? Don't want anyone to see something so gorgeous." He smiled at you. You nodded your head, practically buzzing at the idea of this happening again. He winked at you. "You could take off something else though."

Sanji was shocked and delighted at how quickly you dropped to your knees. You began playing with his belt, figuring out how the clasp worked. Sanji scrunched his eyes shut. Fuck, you were so eager! He never would’ve expected it to go like this. Despite your eagerness you were so gentle, as if you were afraid of touching him. He was going to prompt you, but instead you softly pulled his zipper down and began drawing the fabric down till it sat mid thigh.

Oh, fuck. There he was, huh?

You looked at his clothed cock, studying It like it was some kind of strange bug. You wanted to laugh at the comparison. Above you Sanji was flushed, embarrassed by your staring. You ran a finger over the bulge. He hissed, his dick jumping lightly. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat.

"What?"

"It's so cute the way it jumps."

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"No no no! I promise I'll be good. Can I, um... do I?"

"Just...hah...do what you think is right. I'll...correct you."

Sanji let out an undignified squeak as he felt you lightly grab the clothed bulge. You massaged it, feeling what you could, watching with curiosity how the man above you writhed. Exploratively, you moved your hand further back, cupping his balls through the fabric. The friction of the fabric against bare skin was pure torture.

"Oh shit!" Sanji whined. You withdraw your hand like it burnt. "That's, god, that's really sensitive okay? You're killing me sweetheart."

"Sorry." You mumbled, placing a kiss to his bare thigh. The "strange bug" jumped again. You began peppering more kisses to his thigh. Once you reached the inside of his thigh you breathed deeply, he smelt musky, it made your mouth water. Experimentally, you licked the inside of his thigh. Sanji's thigh tensed. You licked upwards in long stripes until you reached the leg of his underwear. You gave a quick moment of hesitation before you blew air over the bulge. Sanji hissed. Smiling, you placed a kiss directly over the top of his bulge.

"Did you just kiss my dick?"

"Mmhmm. Watch, I'll do it again." You placed an open mouth wet kiss over Sanji's clothed cock. The man above you threw his head back, whining softly. The fabric was dampened with a mix of your spit and something else. You saw how taut the fabric had become. You cooed. "That looks like it hurts."

Sanji nodded. You looked up at him.

"Can I take them off?"

He shuddered. "Fuck. Please (name)."

With curiosity you began dragging the wet underwear down his hips, settling them at his mid thigh. His musky scent overpowered you, and you watched with fascination as Sanji's cock slapped against his stomach. Looking up at him you saw how tight his eyes were scrunched, knuckles gripping the countertop. You noticed how he shivered lightly at the exposure. Sanji's cock stood, large, imposing, and leaking. You breathed out a curse. It looked gorgeous, just like him, long and lithe. His happy trail led to a neat little patch of dark hair. You salivated. Eyes drawing to your prize, you winced at how red and angry the head looked.

Sanji thought he was going to kill you when he felt you tap his cockhead like a microphone. Instead he bucked his hips away, humiliation colouring his face. "Stop that! I know you don't know what you're doing, but please use your brain dearest."

You mumbled an apology before rubbing your hands together, trying to warm them. He watched as you wrapped a hand around his dick before moaning lowly. You studied him, absolutely enraptured, as you gave a test pump. The man above you crumbled.

"Do you always get this way?"

"No." He panted.

"Just for me?" You tried sultry, trying to muster up some quote from a smutty novel you once read. Sanji peeked one eye open before groaning.

"No." His voice was strained, breathing heavy. You tried pumping him, but the rhythm was sloppy. "N-no. You're...it's a lot right now. I'm not used to it being this slow…or clumsy."

"Do you like it?" You looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Unfortunately." He muttered. With a burst of pride you tried pumping him harder. Sanji squealed, grabbing your hand. "Fuck (name), I really need you to spit in your hand. Th-that's painful."

"Oh...sorry." You offered. Sanji watched as you perversely spit in your hand, wrapping the digits back around his cock. You tried setting a rhythm, it was sloppy, but you focused on giving him consistent squeezing pressure. Sanji moaned lowly at the squeezing, hips rocking.

Soon you reached a steady rhythm. You watched with bated breath before you slowed down. Sanji began to whine from the loss, only to keen loudly as he felt your lips enclose his cockhead. He began spluttering, eyes rolled backwards. He'd take anything right now, fuck he wanted to cum so bad. He sucked in a breath.

"No teeth, okay love?"

You laughed, the vibrations tickling him in the best way. He moaned, trying desperately to not fuck your face. His eyes were so tightly scrunched.

You slowly forced yourself further down his length, squeezing the base. Sanji swore. You froze, taking a deep breath through your nose. When he didn't stop you, you continued your devotion.

"Ack!" You choked, throat burning. You felt Sanji's hand patting your head. You retreated off him, coughing.

"Darling don't take more than you can okay. We don't want you to choke now."

You gazed up at him, eyes wet and throat hoarse. "Let me try again!"

Your raspy voice made Sanji quiver, but the way you looked up at him, absolutely wrecked, made him burn. As quickly as he noticed it, it ended, and you unceremoniously inhaled his cock. He could feel you try to smile.

"Fuck!" His voice was high as you sucked hard, adding your tongue to flatten against the underside of his cock. "(Name)! Baby, fuck, I-"

"Hey why won't the door open?" Zoro's voice rang through the wood. Sanji stilled, holding your head. The two of you looked at each other frozen. Sanji tried clearing his throat.

"If you keep making noise out there, I'm gonna explode, Mosshead!"

You snorted, trying hard to not laugh. 'Yeah you're gonna explode,' you inwardly snickered.

"Whatever shitty waiter."

Silence. Sanji looked down at you. "Darling, maybe we should stop. It's okay, we can try again another day." He froze at the frustrated look that overtook your features. "Fuck." He whispered.

You sucked harshly causing Sanji to bite his hand hard to avoid screaming. He felt you try swallowing, watched as tears pricked your eyes. You didn't slow down on your work, sucking harshly and hands wandering. You grabbed a fistful of his asscheek, other hand tracing circles on his inner thigh. You felt him tensing, quivering. His hand reached for your neck, trying to coax you off. He was so close.

"Oh god!" Sanji gasped. "Baby I'm gonna cum, you need to hop off-AH!"

You sucked harder, milking the man through his orgasm. It was like music the way he spluttered and grabbed the back of your head, nails scratching your scalp. You felt hot, thick liquid painting your throat. It wasn't pleasant, but fuck his reactions were. Some dribbled out of the corner of your mouth and Sanji wiped it away with a thumb, a fucked out expression on his features. He pulled his softened cock out of your mouth, and watched, breathless as you swallowed his seed. You made a grimace afterwards causing the man to laugh.

"Was it okay?" You asked, shyness taking over you.

"You're lucky I don't mind a bit of torture. It was good for a first try." He gave you that flirty grin and a wink. "I think you need more practice though."

You laughed, outstretching a hand so he could help you up. You tried stretching your legs, noting the numb pain in your knees. You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Was I that bad?"

Sanji pulled his underwear and pants back up, zipping his pants closed. He pulled you closer. "Nah, you're just something else entirely. Silly." Kiss. "Torturous." Kiss. "And I am smitten with you."

"We've wasted enough time, better get back to it." You smiled against his lips.

"I'd love to pay you back."

"Later loverboy, we're gonna have the whole crew in here soon if we don't hurry."

"I'm so glad there's a later."

You winked, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. You stopped, turning to stare at the man.

"For you baby? Always. Oh, can you make souffle?"

"What? Why?"

"I told the guys we were making a souffle and needed the kitchen completely silent."

Sanji laughed. You definitely kept him on his toes.

-----------

I'm not going to lie, some of this is coloured by my first time hahaha! I am an incredibly awkward person, and yes I did also once tell a guy how cute I thought it was when dicks jump. He also told me I was fucked for that ha!

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #smut #one piece smut #vinsmoke sanji x reader #bro i HATE calling him vinsmoke #i couldnt help myself so i formatted it for tumblr....#this was like one of the first sanji things i ever wrote......#other than like this sex pollen fic that i also never posted lmao #:)))) anyway..........#i love virgin fics as much as the next guy.....but if it was anything like my first time giving a bj.....its so not glamorous lol #tmi af: i mean.....dont get me wrong ive technically never had p in v i have bad vaginismus but girl.......

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chasing-dreamers · 10 months ago

Text

Just For You, Princess

(jjk) MDNI🔞

After finding out that you were feeling insecure, Sukuna makes sure to remind you that there’s no need for that.

Pairing: fem!reader x husband!Sukuna

Genre: Married human Sukuna AU, 18+, smut, comfort, established relationship

Warnings: MDNI, fingering(f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t do it!), soft!Sukuna, porn with some plot, very slight angst, aftercare, he says princess a lot

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Hey! So, this is my first time posting any written work since 2019 and the first smut I’ve ever written, so please go easy on me! I have several fics I’ve either started and scrapped or just haven’t finished but somehow wrote this in a whole day! I’m very excited about this and I hope everyone enjoys!❤️

Disclaimer: I don’t own any rights to Sukuna or the JJK franchise, this is solely from my intellect and it in no means tied to anything other than my imagination.

“Princess, can you please tell me what’s wrong?” The man standing in front of you in your kitchen asked for the thousandth time since the two of you got home. He currently had you caged against the counter because he knew the moment he moved, you’d avoid him and go to sleep without talking to him about it. He refused to let another second go by without knowing what was wrong. Once you could tell him, he’d fix everything he could in an instant. Seeing you this upset was absolutely destroying him. “I don’t know what happened or what to say unless you tell me and you know that.”

You hesitated. It was stupid but it still bothered you more than it should have. Having to listen to a group of girls at Yuji’s party talk about this man and what they would do to him, knowing he had a wife (not knowing it was you). Then hearing that they couldn’t care less who she was because they had seen her and there was no way she’d be able to keep him loyal for that long… it ruined the whole rest of your night, shattering every thought and expectation you had for your relationship. Sukuna was your world, but were you enough? Would he really get bored of you? What was it about you that made them think he wouldn’t stay with you?

“Do you think about sleeping with other girls, Kuna?” You finally said just above a whisper. You kept your head down, looking towards his stomach, afraid to see the look on his face.

“Wha-“ Sukuna’s grip on the counter tightened for a split second as he tried to grasp what you were asking. Was his wife, of all people, really standing here questioning if he thought that or not? “Why would I…You…Ring…What? Why would you ask me something like that, love?”

You looked up and saw the utter confusion in his eyes and slowly started to realize how stupid that question was. He searched your face trying to find any reason you could have. You took in a deep breath and held back tears as you answered. “Because there was an entire group of girls at Yuji’s party that were graphically detailing what they wanted from you. One of them even said that it would be easy to do because they had seen your wife and that she wasn’t worth staying loyal to and I was literally sitting right ther- “

Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you tightly and pulled you into his chest. You curled into him as you felt him bring his head down to nuzzle into your neck. “My sweet princess, there is no one else ever on my mind.” He pulled back slightly and grabbed your left hand and held it up in between the two of you. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Of course, it means I married you and…” You trailed off as you looked up and saw his knowing look.

“And that I married you, Princess.” He said sweetly. “It means that I have made a promise to devote myself to you and love you and not a single soul else.”

You nodded and gasped as he brought his mouth down to your ear, purring gently. “It also means that you are the only one I want to fuck as well. The only person I want to watch fall apart on my dick every night and make love to any chance that I can get.”

“K-Kuna.” You cried as he pushed you back up against the counter and hungrily latched his mouth to your neck. His hands ran down the sides of your body and then raked back up your thighs. He covered your body with his as he ran his tongue down your shoulder and back up. Your arms wrapped around his waist and your fingertips digging into the hard flesh on his back.

“It means that you are the one I’ve chosen to devour and consume for the rest of my life. The one I’ve chosen to relentlessly fuck in our bed every night. The one that I have to give these reminders to every time she thinks I would choose anyone else.” He grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up as his mouth continued its attack on your soul. He carried you through your house and towards your bedroom. You clung to his desperately as he pressed you up against the wall in the hallway. You could feel his dick hardening against you as he ground his hips into yours.

“I have never wanted a single soul other than you since the day I met you, princess. If I need to keep reminding you like this, then I will happily do so.” He growled before smashing his lips into yours. Your mouths worked together, trying to express the emotions and promises swirling through the air around you. Sukuna’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you groaned at the feeling.

He hummed happily and pushed further into your mouth. You kissed his back with just as much force, wanting to show him how much you wanted, no, how much you needed this. Then he pulled you from the wall and turned into your room. He continued towards the bed, not skipping a beat in trying to devour you, nipping at your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. You huffed as he separated long enough to toss you onto the bed and strip your clothes off. He ripped your shirt over your head, then removed your bra, then quickly removed both your jeans and panties as well. You shivered as the feeling of cool air washed over your body, but Sukuna was quick to cover your body with his own again. He kissed you again as he ran his hands over your body. He brought them up to massage your breasts and you could feel him grin against you as you moaned into his mouth. One of his hands moved to hold your waist as the other continued down to settle in between your legs. “Gotta make sure my princess is prepped for me.”

He pushed one of his fingers past your folds and slowly began to push it into you. He watched in awe as your pussy swallowed his finger. You gasped as he began thrusting it in and out of you. He head shot back up and he grinned at your as he began thrusting it faster. Soon, he added a second finger and your moans got louder. “K-Kuna. Kuna. Kuna. Kuna.” You chanted hid name as a third finger went in and he curled them up just right. He hit that spot repeatedly and just stared at his hand disappearing into your cunt over and over again.

Then your orgasm hit your like a truck and you screamed his name. He smirked at you, licking his lips as he continued to coax the rest of it out of you. The squelching noises coming from your pussy made him even harder and he had to be inside of you right now before he lost his mind. Seeing your eyes blown out and your body trembling made his own body feel hot.

He pulled his hand out and made sure you were watching as he sucked your juices from his fingers. His eyes were also already blown out as you watched him crawl back off of the bed. He grabbed the bottom hem of his short and pulled it over his head. You ogled at his body as he began discarding his pants, your eyes raking over his tattooed chest before finally resting on his cock as it sprung out of his boxers. You tried to press your thighs together but Sukuna was too fast and was in between them in an instant. His cock rubbed against you, causing you to mewl and grab for him wherever your hands could reach. “Fuck, princess, you are so fucking wet for me.”

“J-just for you S-sukuna.” You stuttered as he began rutting against your clit. The stimulation was just enough to make the heat start spreading through your body but that alone wasn’t what you wanted. “P-please..”

“Yeah? You feel that, princess. That’s just for you.” Sukuna purred into your ear as he continued grinding down onto you.

“Then give it to me, Sukuna.” I used whatever sense in your mind you had left to spit your demand out. You needed him, all of him, so desperately and couldn’t wait any longer.

“As you wish, my princess.” He growled as he pushed his dick all the way in until you could feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks. You shrieked at the stretch and the immaculate pleasure that came with it. He held himself up on his hands and watched at your face contorted with ecstasy. Your pussy welcomed him quickly and squeezed around him as began to slowly thrust in and out of you. The moans the two of you were swallowed as he leaned back down you pull you into a passionate kiss. He moved his lips against yours sensually as he used his hands to cup your face.

He began thrusting slowly, more caught up in how it felt to kiss you in this moment, trying to pour all of his emotions into it to show you how he truly felt. The love and longing and needing and knowing you were everything he could ever want and more. The bliss in being your husband, relishing every second of it. You hummed and moaned against his lips as his hips found a sweet spot in his pace to keep your toes curled without pushing you over the edge. Just enough to keep you right at the top without spilling over just yet.

Sukuna pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, sighing deeply. “My sweet, sweet girl. Fuck, you feel so good every time.”

You moaned in response and he grinned down at you. Your hands ran up and down his back, following the contours of his muscles, locking them into your memory. “You feel so good, Kuna. I feel so full.” You panted as you began to feel the heat in your stomach intensify and your moans began to turn into whines and whimpers. “Faster…please.”

Sukuna moaned at the sound of your begging and he braced himself with his hands back on the mattress. His thrusts pick up into a very fast pace that had you mewling and begging with in coherent words. He marveled at how you looked underneath him falling apart. The best sight he could ever imagine.

Sweat begins to pour down his face as he continues a brutal pace. You feel so fucking good around him and he doesn’t want to stop. Your pussy sucks Jimin and the way he feels your walls drag along his dick as he pulls out with every thrust. It’s intoxicating and he can’t get enough. “Just. For. You.” He chants with every thrust. His jaw clenches and he can feel the release coming quickly as you rake your hands down his chest. You begin to get tighter around him with every thrust and he almost loses his breath.

He pushes through the fight of coming already to keep the sight of your shaking with pleasure underneath him. He licks his lips and growls more as he watches your boobs bounce up and down with every moment. There’s sweat all over his body now and he sees your skin begin to shine with a thin layer of your own on your body.

He dips his head down to swipe his tongue up in between your breasts. You push your body up into him and squeeze his shoulders as he trails his mouth up to your neck once more, nipping and sucking and whispering praises into your ear.

One of his hands runs over your breasts, twisting your nipple just to feel your whole body arch into him again, then down your stomach until you feel his thumb rubbing circles into your clit. You instantly feel yourself unravel around him.

“Gonna…gonna…gonna cu-“ Your whole body tenses and Sukuna grunts and goes faster as he feels your pussy clamp down onto his dick. He moved his hand back and continues picking up the pace until the whole bed is shaking and you’re screaming his name. He moans out your name as he pushes his dick as far into your pussy as he can and comes hard. His whole body twitches as you both come down from your highs.

He slowly pulls out of you and kisses you gently as you whine at the overstimulation. He pats your hair and copes to you as you come down from the last bit of your orgasm.

“Shhh princess, I’ll be right back.” You nod in response and listen as he runs into the bathroom, turns the shower on, and comes back into the room with a wet cloth. “Let’s clean you up and then go take a shower, princess.”

“Mmk, Kuna.” You hum, still feeling euphoric. He cleans you, then scoops you up and walks you to the shower. You sigh constantly as you feel the warm water cascading over your body. Sukuna places you down where you can stand, then grabs subs up a loofa to clean both of your bodies.

“Such a sweet princess, aren’t you?” He asks sweetly as you finally peel your eyes open to look up at him. He grins down at you and kisses you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sukuna.” You reply, wrapping your arms around him. “My Kuna.”

“Yes, princess,” he chuckles. “All yours.”

He finishes cleaning your bodies and then you take turns washing each other’s hair. He giggles when he has to lean down so you can reach his and kisses your pout away.

Once your shower is over, you both dry off, slip into cozy pajamas, change the bedding, and slip into bed together to go to sleep. Sukuna hums the tunes of the song you danced to at your wedding and cards his fingers through your hair as you quickly fall asleep. Then he wraps his arms around and drifts peacefully off with you.

This was so nerve wrecking to post, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading!

#jjk #jjk x reader #Sukuna #Sukuna x reader #sukuna fic #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen sukuna #Sukuna smut #jjk smut #soft Sukuna

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physalian · 10 months ago

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7 Misused Tropes (And How to Improve Them)

Tropes in isolation aren’t inherently bad, but a lot of them are prone to poor execution. Each one of these probably could have a whole post by themselves. A few of these used to be good but have since fallen by the wayside as their original meaning has been lost.

7. Dramatic Miscommunication

You know the ones. I think it’s worse when the story is otherwise good, the writers just could not come up with a better way to get X alone or send Y off on the necessary side quest than the lowest of low hanging fruit.

Two essential ingredients for fixing this trope: Precedent and consequences

Precedent–have the character doing the missassuming already be prone to jumping to conclusions, already suspicious or insecure, or misled by a third party so this looks inevitable, instead of pulled out of your ass.

Consequences–usually these are big blow up fights that fizzle out without any impact on the plot once they fulfill their purpose, but if it’s a nasty enough fight, characters shouldn’t just forgive and forget. While they might not completely ruin relationships, it should have characters taking a step back and either second guessing where they stand, or using this blowup to fix an underlying issue in said relationship.

6. Love Triangles

Good Love Triangle for the first 3 seasons: Elena/Stefan/Damon (TVD).

Bad Love Triangle for the entire series: Bella/Edward/Jacob (Twilight).

The difference between them (besides time to flesh out both candidates) is that both brothers brought valid pros and cons to Elena’s life, both got the chance to be with her, and Elena’s whole arc wasn’t solely focused on the agonizing choice of which brother she should pick. Regardless of which camp you’re in, Stefan brought stability, that classic cliché high school romance, mostly all good vibes. He never challenged her or talked down to her or got aggressive with her. Damon did the opposite, for better or for worse, and we know which direction the show went.

On the other hand, Jacob never for one second stood a chance with Bella and the narrative wasn’t kidding anyone. They never so much as went on one date (unless you count the motorcycle ride) and it seemed like Bella was only letting him hang on for pity’s sake. Theoretically he brought pros to the table that Edward couldn’t (like, idk, being alive), but the narrative never explored what could be done with him. He just ended up being the Nice Guy friend who then decided it’d be hot to lust after an infant.

5. Agency-less Chosen Ones

These tend to be wish fulfillment characters that bring nothing to the story and have no discernible skills, yet are constantly in the middle of the action, have all the love interests fawning over them, and are Important and Critical to saving the world… because the narrative said so. They don’t make a single choice the entire plot except to move forward or stagnate, chosen by the gods or a prophecy or fate and destiny.

The problem: These characters walk with the crutch of “I’m the chosen one thus I don’t need a reason to exist in the story” and that’s just not a satisfying narrative shortcut. So? Give them agency. Even if they’re chosen by some ancient prophecy, you still have to convince the reader why the Universe wasn’t just talking out of its ass.

Good example: Emmet from Lego Movie literally says he’s useless and has no skills and cannot think outside the Lego box. He’s supposed to be as generic as painfully possible and when he does have creative ideas, they’re supposed to be asinine and stupid. And yet. He might be physically dragged around by the other characters, but he has plenty of choices, plenty of opposition to what’s happening, plenty to say about the state of his world, and his ideas do matter and his intimate knowledge of the instructions and playing by the rules is how they win.

4. Bad Boy Love Interests

These guys were supposed to be counter-culture icons, standing up to The Man for the little guy because he knows the system is broken and rigged. He’s an affront to the stereotypical nuclear lifestyle, he resents a robotic and soulless office job and wants to create art or music or in some way benefit his world and isn’t going to play nice just to get his way. He exists in contrast to the nuclear female protagonist: Conservative, demure, rule-following caged bird who falls in love with him because he shows her that life isn’t meant to be lived in The Man’s cage. He respects the authority that deserves respect, the teachers who actually give a shit, the janitors, the librarians, but probably not the principal or the police or the local politicians, because he knows they don’t respect him and respect is a two-way street. He’s probably a mama’s boy or at the very least loves his parents (if they’re alive) and while he might engage in a little property damage like graffiti, it’s for a good cause.

This dude is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE: Abusive, controlling, aggressive, or condescending to his love interest. He’s not supposed to be an overprotective stalker or plagued by insecure jealousy over any other man in his love interest’s life. He’s not rude to his friends or arrogant about his own smarts and doesn’t think he knows best about every little thing in the world. He’s not sexist or racist just to make himself feel better and he doesn’t pressure his love interest into sex because she owes him or whatever.

Ahem.

Please bring back classic bad boys. That is all.

3. Major Character Death (for shock value)

I remember the implosion of the Walking Dead fandom after they killed Carl, one of the very few characters who was supposed to make it to the end, for… various sketchy reasons and I could never figure out what was true. Some theorized that his actor was aging out of the ‘child actor’ payscale and they didn’t want to pay him as an adult and while I have no proof, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Carl died after getting bit in just one of those hectic moments where he got unlucky, while doing something noble and stupid. In isolation, it fits the nature of the “anyone can die” show but man did it just come across in poor taste.

Obviously “for shock value” shouldn’t be the reason you do anything in your story but there is still a way to pull it off without it causing a riot: Make sure they get killed in a non-contrived way. If you plan on killing off one of your heroes suddenly, either make it bitterly ironic, or make it a situation that this character would absolutely get themselves into. The more it “fits” the less likely audiences will see the hand of the author coming in just to break the character’s fictional contract.

2. The Power Inside You All Along

This trope is usually disappointing because it tends to melt a character’s whole arc down into something pointless—this whole adventure was apparently useless if they didn’t actually need to grow or change or challenge their conceptions of the world. They could have got up off the couch as joe shmoe and beat the villain day one.

While that’s probably not what their creator intends, ‘it was inside you all along *wink*’ tends to feel that way, as it discourages internal conflict. Usually, their creator is likely trying to convey the message that one need not change, that it’s what’s inside them already that makes them special.

I present to you once again Kung Fu Panda’s “there is no secret ingredient” i.e. “the power inside you”. The difference is. Po still has plenty of internal conflict: his own self-confidence. He begins the movie eager but inexperienced and a bit oblivious, fanboying it up around his heroes. He and Shifu both insult his weight and his lacking kung fu skills, and his arc is learning self-confidence, learning how to use his weight and the body he has to fight in a way that the villain isn’t prepared for, to where Po can shit-talk him to his face during the final fight.

Most failures of this trope don’t bother exercising their protagonist. They’re pissy and resistant for the entire story and only win when the narrative agrees they were right all along. Therefore, no change, no conflict, no resolution.

1. Strong Female Characters

So many of these read like "slapped boops on a male character". They don’t work for many reasons (usually being very preachy with their agendas), but they especially don’t work when by trying to be pro-feminist, they’re still reinforcing masculine standards. A lot of people, when Captain Marvel came out, said “you didn’t have any issues with Tony Stark being an asshole but now you do when he’s a woman” which. No.

Tony was an asshole, but being an asshole was the whole point of his character, and he got humbled right quick by getting blown up and held hostage. “Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart” and all that.

Carol was an asshole with nothing to substantiate it, and never got a reality check. She had amnesia so we didn’t get insight into who she was before to understand this transition into dickishness and was so OP, she wasn’t ever physically or emotionally challenged like Tony was.

But the other thing is this: Slapping boobs on a male character with a slew of toxic masculine traits also says that to be a successful woman, you must behave like a man. It swings so far from the femme fatale sexy leg lamp that it comes around and eats its own tail. These characters are just mean and insecure and build themselves up by tearing down the men around them.

So. Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph is this exact trope done extremely well. She’s aggressive, arrogant, loud, rude, and cynical. For about 10% of her arc. The movie immediately throws her into a situation where her strengths are basically useless—she’s stuck in Candy Land and has to rely on someone who is the antithesis of her game and character to make it out. The movie also shows you why she’s cynical via her tragic backstory.

Not only that, she’s more than just a heap of toxic masculinity in a pixie cut. She laughs, she cries, she admits when she’s wrong, she has a soft side, a gentle side, a caring side, and remains a badass through and through.

Or, once again rolling out Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Proud, aggressive, the snubbed chosen one, cynical, mean, and overconfident in her abilities. Tigress nearly gets her entire team killed in her arrogance. She’s allowed to be wrong, very wrong. She also has her soft moments and, like Calhoun, has a very valid reason for being jaded, and is still shown to be capable of softness and nurturing during the evacuation.

Third example to hammer home that I don’t hate badass women: Andromache. Jaded, overconfident, short-tempered, aggressive, and a little mean-spirited. Tragic explanatory backstory? Check. She is also caring and loyal to her team, allowed to get emotional, allowed to be wrong and fail and lose, and kind of the surrogate mom of the team, who can also laugh and joke around and have light-hearted moments.

Whether the character is a man or a woman, being an arrogant asshole who takes zero accountability and refuses to admit when they’re wrong and never loses, audiences aren’t going to like them.

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #character development #character design #love triangle #bad boys #chosen one #strong female character #killing characters #long post

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erwinsvow · 1 year ago

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𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.

author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!

now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.

“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.

You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.

That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?

But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.

So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind.

“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.

So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.

“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”

“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean.

“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.”

You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background.

“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.

“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?”

You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.

Then, Rafe looks down at you.

“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”

You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before.

They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone.

So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.

The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.

It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project.

You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.

“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.

You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.

Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction.

“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.

You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.

You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you.

He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.

He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times.

You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.

Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.

In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call.

He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.

“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.

He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.

“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”

Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.

You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.

Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.

Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear.

“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.

He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet.

“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-”

It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.

Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you.

He doesn’t.

“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.

“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?”

He feels you nod your head slowly.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.

“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.

“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”

“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up.

“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”

“I promise.”

“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”

“I promise, Rafe.”

“Good girl.”

He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything.

Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.

You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy.

When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.

“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t.

“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”

“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”

You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.

So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying.

“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.

“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.”

“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”

“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.

The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.

“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.

He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting.

You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.

“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.

“I should ask you that.”

“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”

“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck.

“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence.

“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist.

“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”

You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.

You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.

Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.

“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you.

“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”

He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.

And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move.

“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.

“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.

In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set.

The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.

“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”

He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”

“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly.

Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.

“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-”

Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow.

He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over.

You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.

He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.

“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.

Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck.

He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal.

“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you.

“We’ll get it in a minute.”

He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.

You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”

“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."

“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you.

#eeeee #this was.... self indulgent. so no worries if no one else likes it #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #rafe cameron imagine

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