#he really needed a nap and some food....
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lokh · 6 months ago
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could you imagine if shuros uppercut ended up being a king hit and laios just. died
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luxaofhesperides · 11 months ago
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For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?
He has no idea how his parents did it. 
Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so. 
Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.
That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that. 
This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts. 
So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham. 
Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal. 
Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.
It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?
Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.
“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”
He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car. 
“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie. 
She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.
“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”
Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it. 
He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it. 
This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny. 
He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.
He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.
Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief. 
“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.
It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around. 
A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge. 
It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food. 
Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall. 
Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly. 
Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.
He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.
In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all. 
. . .
Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic. 
Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.
He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.
And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.
They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that. 
“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.” 
Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by. 
“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”
Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.
The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down. 
“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”
“Hey, you alright?”
Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him. 
The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”
Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”
“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”
“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”
Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”
“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.
“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”
“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”
Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.
Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”
“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”
Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment. 
“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.
“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over. 
Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her. 
“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”
Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.
He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms. 
“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”
Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”
“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”
“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”
“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.
“Family,” Duke agrees.
With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.
The key word being tries. 
Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.
“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”
Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny. 
She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers. 
“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.
Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”
“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”
“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”
Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief. 
As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead. 
It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind. 
He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. 
Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.
All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.
He can do this.
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xxplastic-cubexx · 7 days ago
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Pet store clerk gives Charles a bag of free treats for his ""dog"" all while Charles can feel Erik Looming in the BG
the real mortifying day is after months of getting small bags of dog treats one day the bag of dog treats has like. perfectly normal human candies/pastries or something inside
Of Course charles is confused and impulsively asks what it is/how it's different from the usual only for the clerk to reply theyre Whatever Erik's Favorite Treat Is and its that day forward erik is adamant they just do their shopping online
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hedgehog-moss · 4 months ago
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Last spring my neighbour asked if I could let Pirlouit mow the grass around his barn from time to time, which Pirou was happy to do at first but if I left him there several days in a row he got pretty sad about being alone (lots of wistful, melancholy braying). So this year when my donkey was hired for this job again, I went for a different formula: for the past few weeks I've been bringing all the animals to the neighbour's barn for an hour of landscaping services now and then at apéritif time.
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The fence is extremely not Pampe-proof so I have to have my apéritif while sitting on the road in a strategic position from which I can toss a stick in her direction if she tries to escape, but other than that I've been really enjoying this peaceful evening ritual, just sitting there reading and watching the animals while feeling like I'm doing my neighbour a favour. Pirlouit doesn't get all the grass to himself anymore but I've learnt that he prefers to be rich in friends than in food.
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You'll notice that Merricat is present in every photo, looking alert. She too has been hired, but for the thankless job of Thought Police. She may look like she's just napping on the warm asphalt with not a care in the world...
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... but she is working! Keeping an eye on the llamas, always.
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I've discovered that in a specific context my three cats can act as precogs and warn me of Pampe's future crimes. My theory is that they developed this skill because of Poldine, who loves cats. Any cat who enters the pasture will soon be noticed and (lovingly) chased by Poldine, who wants kisses. Cats not only do not want llama kisses, they don't differentiate between individual llamas. They are all potential kissers. So even if it looks like she's all relaxed, Merricat is constantly monitoring where the llamas are and what they seem to be planning. If we are on the other side of a fence and Pampe approaches it a bit too slyly, Merricat will jump to her feet, ready to flee (and I will toss one of my anti-Pampe sticks, and say NON.)
Merricat and I are a very good team! We've foiled several of Pampe's plots, but we need to be on the road for Merricat to remain wary (if we were in the pen Pampe's escape attempts would involve getting away from us and the cat wouldn't care.) Cars are rare so it's okay (plus it's so quiet you can always hear them coming), and on the few occasions when someone showed up and asked why I was having apéritif on the road, I pointed at Pampe and they were like, "Ah! Didn't see her here. Good luck!"
"Hedgehog-moss, you're exaggerating. Pampe can't be that—"
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She is! She is. And she always seems to notice when Merricat is on a bathroom break and I'm absorbed in a book.
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There was one evening though, when she got distracted by a fascinating new idea. I don't claim to know what's going on in this llama's head (except when she's looking at a fence, then it's easy) but as you can see, once I brought the animals to the barn Poldine started eating flowers, Pirlouit started eating grass, and Pampe started eating the wall.
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After a moment she slowly circled the barn, then stopped and lay down right next to it, settling down in a comfortable position but with focused ears and her head still turned towards the wall. It was suspicious behaviour, but on the other hand she now looked so uninterested in the road that I decided to take a risk and run home to bring back some dinner—and she didn't move while I was away! I even brought Pandolf, who is usually banned from these soirées because he would disturb my Merricat alarm system. He was happy to be finally included.
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It's unclear if Pampe was eating the wall, talking to the wall, or carefully examining various parts of the wall as Step 1 of 27 of a complex plan only she understands, but she stuck close to the barn all evening instead of lying in wait by the fence so I was able to have a picnic in the grass rather than on the road, which felt more bucolic. I know that "Pampérigouste has a new, mysterious project" is a worrying sentence but at this early stage (feasibility study) it felt to me and Merricat like a little holiday!
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whytheylosttheirminds · 2 months ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 3
(Rafe Cameron x reader, series, 5.7k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
additional chapter cw: suggestive language/themes, heavy drinking, mature readers only please
⇢ series masterlist
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The game was on, and Carter wasn’t one to go down without a fight.
You however, were much less invested in her scheme to set you up with Tom, already feeling tired and confused after 24-hours of this little reunion trip. You laid in bed for quite a while replaying the almost-moment you’d had with Rafe in the kitchen in your head before taking a long, dreamless nap. It was the smell of the barbeque wafting through your bedroom window that woke you up. You threw your hair up in a bun, too groggy to care about putting any more effort into your appearance.
As you reached for the handle, you heard two hushed voices arguing behind your bedroom door. You opened it slowly to reveal Carter and Topper facing each other, both with their arms crossed as they carried on a heated whisper-argument.
“What are you even doing up here Topper?” Carter demanded.
“I don’t know, what are you doing up here Carter? Trying to get a leg up?” Topper snapped back, towering over her in height yet still somehow looking small under her glare.
They were so locked in on each other that neither of them had even noticed your appearance.
“Um, hi,” you waved your hand between their faces to get their attention. “Can I help you?”
They looked at you, startled as their arms fell and stances softened. Carter eyed your outfit up and down, trying to hide her distaste at your choice of leggings and a t-shirt.
“Well, I don’t know what he’s doing up here but I came to see if you needed help getting ready,” Carter replied.
“I am ready,” you said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“You’re, uh,” Topper scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
You squinted at him, you could understand Carter critiquing your outfit, knowing she was trying to set you up with Tom, but what stake did Topper have in your outfit choice?
“We’re literally just going downstairs,” you countered.
“Maybe throw on something a little nicer,” Carter urged gently.
“Okay, fine,” you gave in. “You two are being so weird today.”
Topper gave you a thumbs up as you closed the door in their faces.
A few minutes later you reemerged in a new outfit, a crocheted halter top and some cut-offs. You had let your hair down and ran a brush through it, dabbed on some mascara and lipgloss. It was the maximum amount of effort you were willing to put into a big night out in the backyard.
Despite everyone’s relentless teasing, Topper actually was a pretty good cook. The food was great and everyone thanked you, Rafe, and Tom for going out to get it.
“Tom paid!” you announced. “So everyone make sure to be really nice to him or he won’t bankroll us anymore.”
You smiled at Tom, who grinned back and waved you off in joking modesty. You let your eyes linger as he leaned over the firepit on the other side of the sprawling patio, skillfully stacking the wood before lighting a match and holding it under. He crouched low to blow gently on the kindling, causing the fire to roar to life. You could see a sliver of his toned lower back peeking out from his shirt as he reached for another log, dropping it straight into his newly sparked flame with a bare hand. The whole thing was unbelievably attractive.
The only thing better was the stoney look on Rafe’s face when you caught his eye, realizing he’d noticed the way you were looking at Tom like you wanted to have him for dessert. Good. 
Playing and replaying the scene from the kitchen in your head all afternoon, you came downstairs determined to freeze Rafe out. Sure, he remembered your favorite candy and maybe almost even apologized, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sting you felt when he pulled away from you like you had the plague as soon as anyone else entered the room.
After dinner, you were perched on the railing of the porch, sipping something strong and chatting with Carter and her childhood best friend, Maddie.
Maddie was nice enough, the Kook academy prom queen two years in a row, but she had never shown much interest in you. Until you showed up here looking much more instagram-worthy than you had in high school.
“So, omg,” Maddie started, playing with a strand of your hair like you were the closest of friends. “When are you gonna drop the workout routine? You look gorg.”
Never once had one of Carter’s friends complimented your looks. 
“Thanks,” you grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I play a lot of volleyball and jog a little.”
“Well it’s working!” Kelce hollered from across the porch, already wobbling slightly from his inebriation.
There it was again, your blush, always showing up at the least opportune times. All eyes were on you, such open talk about your body making your skin crawl with self-consciousness. You looked over the railing to the sand a few feet down, wondering how badly the jump would hurt.
As always, knowing you better than anyone, Carter felt like she could read your mind. Protectiveness roared in her chest, she set her hand over yours to silently tell you she understood before turning to the party and announcing, “okay, we’re playing a game! Everyone around the fire pit!”
No one argued with her wishes, they never did. The group gathered around the bonfire, each with a full drink in hand as Carter unnecessarily explained the rules to never have I ever as if this same group hadn’t played it a hundred times in high school. 
You appreciated Carter moving the attention off of you, but clearly she didn’t know this was your least favorite game in the world. The second the name of the game came out of her mouth, your heart dropped to your stomach, hit with memories of sitting off to the side while her friends played, all of your fingers embarrassingly still up, revealing you had done nothing interesting or scandalous in your life.
Sure, you’d definitely added a few notches to your belt since then, but you knew these people and had no doubt you were still way behind. The sad thing is you didn’t even care, but you knew they would and you couldn’t help that nagging desire to prove that you were just as cool as them. You sighed as you settled in your chair next to Carter, frustrated that just as you were starting to feel somewhat normal, you were transported right back to your loneliest days.
Carter went first, “never have I everrr…shoplifted.”
Sabrina took a giggly sip from her solo cup.
“Isn’t your dad’s networth like a billion dollars?” Kelce asked.
“Yes, but he never would’ve bought me those red panties, so I took ‘em,” she winked at him, and he scooted his chair closer to her.
Everyone else still had all ten fingers up, making you think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
But your relief didn’t last long. One by one they went around the circle, revealing each other’s secrets and leaving you with ten fingers up.
“Never have I ever done a body shot.” Your fingers stayed up.
“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Your fingers stayed up.
“Never have I ever hooked up in a public place.” Your fingers stayed up. 
As the group got tipsier, the revelations got dirtier. You were sure some of them were lying and there was some temptation for you to put a finger down as a lie too just to level the playing field, but that was such teenage bullshit. You might not have as a high of a body count as some of them, but you still had your pride. 
The blood rushed from you face when Maddie said, “never have I ever been with two people at once” and Rafe put his last finger down, smirking as he finished off his beer.
A few more rounds passed and everyone else had put at least a couple fingers down while you still hadn’t done a single one of the things listed. You chewed on your lip, wondering how early was too early to excuse yourself to go to bed.
You were about to make a break for it, when a now sloppily drunk Sabrina pointed at you and slurred, “aww bambi’s still got ten!”
Bambi was another one of the many teasing nicknames they’d called you in high school, and it might just be your least favorite. 
“You’re still such a good girl,” Sabrina jibed. 
She must’ve been beyond wasted. She wasn’t necessarily nice, but she wasn’t usually this much of a bitch.
Your breaths got short, the anxiety erupting like fireworks in your chest. You could feel Carter’s mind spinning next to you, trying to come up with some way to defend you, but another voice beat her to it.
“Well,” Rafe said, drawing all eyes off of you and across the firepit towards him. “Never have I ever gotten so crossfaded at a boneyard party that I pissed my pants in someone else’s truck.”
He shot Sabrina a vindictive smile.
“Rafe!” She protested. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 
At her admission, everyone broke out into laughter, aimed at her.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Rafe chuckled, “you just did.”
“Bruhh,” Kelce hollered. “That’s nasty!”
Sabrina went red, completely humiliated. You tried to be a girl’s girl, but after years of her teasing and making you feel like a loser, you couldn’t help but join in the laughter at her expense. 
As she emptied her cup spitefully, you caught Rafe’s gaze across the fire, the air between you wavy with the flame’s heat. He smiled a crooked, satisfied smile at you, and you mouthed “thank you.” He gave you a reassuring wink and your stomach did cartwheels. 
Carter straightened in her lawn chair next to you, kicking herself for giving Rafe the chance to save you before she could.
“I’ve got one!” she announced, and the crowd hushed to hear their queen. “Never have I ever skinny dipped in the campus fountain and got caught by campus security but successfully flirted my way out of a citation and ended up getting the cop’s number.”
Everyone looked around the circle quizzically, wondering who that incredibly specific anecdote was aimed at.
“No fucking way!” Topper shouted when he saw you put down your pinky finger with a bashful smile.
Topper and Kelce whooped, and the girls all gave you impressed looks.
“Okay baddie!” Maddie gasped. “Was he cute? Did you call him?”
“I mean he wasn’t not cute,” you mused, taking the obligatory sip of your drink. “We hung out a few times.”
“So does that mean you’re into handcuffs now orrr…” Kelce chimed in.
“Oops, I put the wrong fingers down,” you lifted your hand and theatrically put all down except your middle finger, aiming it at Kelce.
The crowd erupted with laughs and amused ohhhh’s. Even Rafe was smiling, and you couldn’t help but wish you knew what he was thinking, noticing his soft eyes on you as you bantered with his friends, all attention on you. This time, you weren’t blushing, you were just enjoying yourself. It felt so nice to have such a naturally fun and easy moment, but it was short lived.
“Never have I ever,” Sabrina interrupted, hiccuping. “Failed an entire semester of college.”
The crowd fell silent once again, no one daring to bring their eyes to Rafe, the clear target of her comeback. He just rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, like it didn’t bother him at all. But you could see the hint of shame in his eyes, a rare glimpse of vulnerability hidden under his tough facade. You used to spend so much of your time digging for those deeper layers that it was easy for you to pick up on them when they rose to the surface, even if it was just for a second.
Maybe you should let him flounder, leave him hanging like he’d done to you so many times before. But tonight, for the first time ever, he had jumped in to defend you, and maybe one act of kindness wouldn’t kill you.
“Fuck this game. Topper, didn’t you say something earlier about a beer pong tournament?” You prompted him, hoping desperately he’d see what you were trying to do and play along.
Topper looked confused at first, so you smiled tightly and flicked your eyes to Rafe and back as quickly as possible, urging him to understand.
Ever the king of subtlety, Topper’s eyes went wide as he mouthed “ohhhh!” 
Rafe saw the whole thing.
“Beer pong! Yes!” Topper said, excited to finally be in the loop. “Let’s do it!”
“I wanna play!” Sabrina stood quickly from her chair, immediately tripping over her own feet.
“Woah,” Carter caught her and held her up with some effort, Sabrina so far gone she couldn’t even use her legs. “I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.”
Carter stabilized Sabrina and guided her towards the house. You knew she was pissed at Sabrina for picking on you, but Carter would never leave a drunk girl to stumble around a party by herself. She looked at you apologetically, but you nodded to let her know you were fine.
After they disappeared into the house, Topper and Kelce got to work clearing the long outdoor dining table for beer pong, filling cups and placing them with great attention to detail. You chuckled at the way they were arguing over correct cup spacing and fill levels as you reached down into the cooler for another drink. When you stood, Tom appeared by your side.
“I didn’t realize I was sharing a house with a criminal,” he drawled, mouth quirked with a crooked smile.
“Oh yeah,” you played along, popping the top of your drink. “I’m wanted in four states and Puerto Rico.”
“And Puerto Rico, wow,” he leaned his arm against the porch rail, his body angling towards yours in a way that made your skin prick with goosebumps. “I need to hear that story.”
“I’d tell you,” you lowered your voice and lifted your mouth towards his ear to whisper. “But then I’d have to kill you.”
“You’re in that deep, huh?” He placed his other hand on the railing on the other side of you, effectively caging you in, though he held himself back far enough to give you some space. You didn’t want space, though, the enticing scent of whiskey and the smoke from the fire drawing you to him.
“Mhm,” you leaned in so your chests were almost touching, a smile tugging his full lips when he noticed the way you intentionally closed the space between you. “If you thought the campus fountain story was bad…”
“I didn’t think it was bad,” he shook his head.
“No?” You grinned, eager to see where he was going with this.
“Not bad, kind of hot, but not bad,” he confessed.
“Only kind of?” You furrowed your brow in mock offense.
He broke into a smile and blushed, flustered as he said, “I mean, uh…”
You giggled. His bashful, dimpled smile was so painfully cute you were suddenly seeing the value to Carter’s matchmaking plan.
The alcohol in your system mixed with the warmth radiating off of him made your body go hot, tingles shooting up your spine as his eyes fell to your lips. He was so damn pretty. Warm brown eyes and messy hair you wanted to tangle your fingers in.
Rafe grabbed the fire poker and busied himself by tending to the flames, which didn’t really need it, considering Tom had built such a sturdy fire. The sound of your sweet giggles floating through the air as you flirted with Tom made him want to walk straight off the porch and into the ocean. He’d surely put his lifelong friendship with Sabrina on the line, not to mention his own pride, to keep you from running away in embarrassment, and now Tom was reaping the rewards of his chivalry. 
He remembered, though. Maybe you didn’t think he did, but he remembered. The nights you sat in the corner, lonely, pining, and the go-to butt of his friends’ stupid jokes. And he’d just sat by and let it happen, so many times. It’s no wonder you were leaned up against someone else, sharing stories about a whole chapter of your life he’d missed. He only had himself to blame.
Once the table was set up, Topper turned and frowned at the way the group had split, you and Tom cozy in the corner while Rafe stood by the fire alone, shoulders tense. He needed to step up his Cupid game, like, now.
He clapped his hands loudly, voice booming as he announced to the party that it was time to play. The startling sound forced Tom away from you just as you were about to ask him if he wanted to walk down to the water. Topper pointed right at you and pronounced you would be on his team. You were going to protest before you remembered beer pong was your idea in the first place, your ruse to protect Rafe. You couldn’t back out now.
Beer pong was another thing you’d added to your skill set in college. In high school, you were never asked to join when parties inevitably broke into a tournament. Instead you’d sit quietly and watch with hearts in your eyes as Rafe played with the competitiveness of an Olympian in a gold medal race.
He was known for his terrible sportsmanship, everyone expected a full tantrum if he didn’t win. The same went for school sports, you’d spent every night after a rare loss up on the phone with him listening intently while he ranted about all the ways the refs were wrong or the umps were blind. At the time, you took it as an honor that you were the one he wanted to find solace in. Now, grown and mature, you saw it for what it really was; no one else wanted to listen to him bitch and moan, so you were just his only option.
“Let’s go, Little Carter!” Topper raised his hand for a high five as you approached the table.
“If you call me that, I’m not playing,” you left him hanging.
“My bad, my bad,” he conceded.
You gave in and high fived him, stepping up to the table with your game face on. Kelce and Maddie stood across from you. They were both terrible shots, and you sunk every ball, but Topper was keeping them in the game with his many misses. 
Topper was great at beer pong in high school and you were sure he’d had plenty of practice at U of F, so there was no reason he should be playing so horribly.
“Dude, what the hell is up with you?” You scolded him after another throw that was way off.
“I dunno,” Topper said with an exaggerated drunken slur in his voice. “I think I’m just too wasted to play. You might need another partner.”
Before you could mock him for his dramatics, he had called over to Rafe, who was sitting back in a lounge chair looking at his phone, anything to keep his eyes off of you.
“What?” He grumbled, eyes lifting from his screen and avoiding yours.
“Need you to sub in for me,” Topper fake hiccupped and you rolled your eyes.
You were sure Rafe would see you were his proposed partner and pass on the opportunity, but then he and Topper had some kind of silent conversation with their eyes that you couldn’t interpret, and Rafe stood from his chair.
“You don’t have to,” you offered as he stepped up and took the ball from Topper.
You hated that your instinct was to apologize for inconveniencing him. He shrugged and lined up his first shot.
“Someone’s gotta show ‘em how it’s done,” he said with an easy grin that made your heart beat a little faster. 
If only your younger self could see how your night was progressing. Impressing everyone during never have I ever. Flirting with a gorgeous boy from another school. And now, Rafe smiling at you and acknowledging your presence in front of all these people, willingly agreeing to be your teammate. She’d have died and gone to heaven.
He had every right to be cocky; he was really good. And to his great surprise, so were you. You and Rafe made quick work of Kelce and Maddie, then Kelce and Jack, then Kelce and three more partners that tried to step up to the plate, Kelce’s aim worsening as he teetered on the edge of a blackout.
“When did you get so good at this?” Rafe asked you after a partcualrly skillful shot.
“I was always good at it,” you scoffed. “You just never let me play.”
After that comment, Rafe was suddenly an extra encouraging teammate. Before each shot he’d pull you back, leaning down to whisper in your ear conspiratorially about which cup you should call, like an NFL coach rallying his quarterback.
“I can’t hit the far corner, my aim isn’t that good,” you said when he proposed the risky shot. 
Self-doubt filled your face as you bit your lip, Rafe recognizing the nervous tick instantly.
“Nah you got it!” he grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you playfully. “You just gotta believe in yourself.” 
Despite yourself, you broke into a smile, making a feeble attempt to brush him away, though he could tell you didn’t mean it.
“Let’s go slugger,” Rafe placed the ball in your hand and guided you into position by your shoulders. He stood behind you and leaned in to bring his mouth close to your ear. “You got this.”
You loved it. You hated it. Your head swirled with conflicting thoughts, but when you sunk the ball with a flick of your wrist, they all faded.
“Let’s fucking gooo!” Rafe yelled.
He lifted his hand for a double high five and you stood on your tiptoes to reach. Your arms came down, but your hands were still in his.
“Told ‘ya,” he said tenderly, smiling down at you as his large hands enveloped yours. “You just gotta believe in yourself.”
Despite the alarms blaring in your head, telling you to run, you let it all linger. The deep sound of his voice in the air, his eyes on your lips, his rough hands folded in yours.
“Okay!” Carter chose that minute to emerge from the house after Sabrina finally fell asleep. “That’s enough wins for y’all, time for some real competition.”
The sound of her voice snapped you out of the moment, and you pulled your hands away from Rafe quickly, nervous about all the eyes on you for the first time since you’d started playing.
“I need a partner,” Carter said, surveying the group on the patio. “How about…”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where she was going with this show and wishing she’d just fast forward to the end.
“Tom?” She raised her eyebrows in his direction, as if it was a crazy idea she had just come up with. “Do you play?”
“I may have taken part in a tourney or two,” Tom said humbly.
“Bullshit,” Kelce exclaimed, slumped in a chair as his head spun. “This guy was the Alpha Tau champion all four years. He’s got a plaque and everything.”
“Damn, I didn’t know we had Alpha Tau royalty in our midst!” Carter bantered.
“Jesus, enough with the fanfare, are you playing or not, dude?” Rafe snapped.
Carter eyed you, her lips twisted in a satisfied smirk. No one was surprised at Rafe’ gruffness, more than used to his competitive mean streak. It was not one of his more attractive qualities. The pull you’d just felt to him faltered a little at the reminder of this particular weakness. You were sure that’s exactly what Carter was hoping for.
“Alright I’m in,” Tom said, stepping up to the table and rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya.” He winked at you.
“Yeah, yeah, just call your shot, champ,” Rafe said.
The four of you reset the cups, not much work needing to be done on you and Rafe’s side of the table since almost no one had scored on you. As Tom lined up his first shot, he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, adjusting and readjusting his stance to get comfortable.
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest mumbling something along the lines of “this fuckin’ guy” and you couldn’t help but smile, admittedly also kind of getting the ick from how seriously Tom was taking this. 
Then he sunk every ball. After a few particularly good rounds, he made his third shot in a row, and Carter called “fire.” She handed him balls one after another like he was taking free throws, wiggling her eyebrows at you to make sure you were paying attention to his triumph.
You drank each cup obediently, ever the rule follower. After your fourth, you were getting so sick of the stale beer, you and Rafe’s cups had been sitting untouched all night and the cheap hops had soured significantly. When Tom sunk another one you grabbed the cup hesitantly, queasy, nearly gagging.
“It’s okay, I got it,” Rafe volunteered, grabbing the cup from you.
“Y’all don’t have to drink those if they’re really that bad,” Tom offered, pausing his next shot when he noticed how disgusted you looked.
“I got it, man,” Rafe waved him off, holding his nose and shooting back the beer as quickly as possible. He dropped the empty cup with a grimace.
“We can just call it a game,” Tom suggested, clearly feeling bad.
“Do you want to forfeit?” You asked Rafe, dropping your voice so Carter and Tom couldn’t hear.
“What and just wave the white flag?” Rafe replied, eyebrows raised. “Do you?
Your lips spread in a slow smile, “not a fucking chance.”
“Atta girl,” he nodded, returning his gaze to Tom. “We’re no quitters, hit us again big guy.”
And he did, over and over, until there was only one cup left on your side of the table. As he prepped for his final shot, Rafe turned to you, a playful, tipsy smile on his face.
“We had a good run,” He said, reaching out shake your hand. You took it with a smile.
When Tom and Carter won, high fiving each other in a loud celebration, all eyes fell to Rafe, waiting to see how he’d react to losing. You tensed, hoping his chipper attitude when you were winning would carry over into a graceful loss. But then he rounded the table, striding towards Tom, and you cringed in anticipation of a classic Rafe Cameron Temper Tantrum.
“Oh boy,” Carter mumbled under her breath. “Here we go.”
But there was no blow up, just Rafe extending his hand to Tom, who took it with a friendly shake.
“Good game, man,” Rafe said. 
“Yeah, you too, dude,” Tom smiled, not realizing this show of sportsmanship was a historical first.
Rafe tilted his head in a friendly nod towards your sister, “Carter.”
“Rafael,” she returned his sarcastic tone, purposefully using his least favorite nickname.
With that, Rafe walked away from the table, one last glance towards you as he returned to his seat by the fire. You watched him go, feeling sad not that you had lost, but that your fun night with Rafe had seemingly come to an end.
It was dizzying, your ever-changing emotional state, and you suspected it had very little to do with the beer. Thinking over all the events of the day gave you whiplash. One second you were about ready to ask Tom if he wanted to come back to your room, the next it felt like you and Rafe were finally sharing the moment you’d dreamt of for years. All the while, you weren’t sure you actually wanted either of them, or if you even wanted to be here at all.
“Wanna play again?” Carter asked, noticing the distracted look on your face.
“I’m good,” you smiled at her appreciatively, deciding you’d had enough excitement for one day. “I think I’m probably just going to bed now.”
“Aww, but it’s so early grandma,” Topper called over to you from the firepit.
You walked over to his chair and peched on the armrest.
 “Ah yes, another one of my favorite nicknames,” you joked. “No one’s called me that in four years.”
“Another inside joke?” Tom inquired, joining the circle, he and Carter each grabbing a chair.
“In high school, she was always the first to leave parties. She’d rather be at home in bed with a book by 9pm,” Topper explained to him.
You rose from his chair, eager to ditch this little trip down memory lane before it got too embarrassing. You almost made a clean escape, but then a very drunk Kelce decided to chime in.
“Unless Rafe asked her to stay,” he laughed. “Then she’d be there allll night.”
Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’ve been embarrassed a thousand times in your life, but this was something different. You looked down at your feet, not sure what you were supposed to do. No quick, face saving remark was coming to mind.
Carter smacked Kelce on the arm, while Topper shook his head with a disapproving, “dude…” 
Your eyes drifted to Rafe, who was looking down at his hands uncomfortably. Whatever protective instinct that had inspired him to stand up for you earlier was clearly gone as he left you to drown in the painfully awkward silence.
“Oh, were you two…?” Tom asked, pointing between you and Rafe quizzically.
“Nope,” you told him with a stiff smile.
He looked like he was about to ask more, but caught on at the last second, reading in between the lines. There it was, the last person here who didn’t know about your pathetic past was now caught up to speed. Yeah, you’d definitely had enough.
“Kelce, you’re such an asshole,” Carter began reprimanding him.
“Just stop,” you urged her. “It’s fine, I’m just going to bed.”
“Wait!” She called after you, but you were already walking toward the house, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. She gave Kelce one last slap and rushed after you.
Kelce, barely conscious, still hadn’t caught up with his own party foul.
“Where’s she going?” He asked Topper.
Rafe stood from his chair suddenly. 
“Will you get him out of here please?” He spat at Topper, sidestepping the fire as he stormed off toward the house.
Rafe followed your path into the kitchen, not sure what he was going to say when he caught up to you, but suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make it right. He should’ve said something as soon as Kelce put his foot in his mouth. He’d deal with that dumbass later.
He slid the kitchen door open, headed towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, but he stopped short when he heard your voice. He stayed back, out of sight but close enough to hear your conversation with Carter on the stairs.
“Carter, it’s fine,” you sighed.
“No it’s fucking not, he made you cry,” Carter practically growled.
Rafe’s heart dropped. You were crying? He was gonna kick Kelce’s ass as soon as he was sober enough to feel pain.
“I’m just tired,” you sniffled. “Please, just drop it for now. I just wanna go to sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Carter said, her voice starting to crack. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to stay.”
“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I knew he was gonna be here.”
Rafe frowned. Was the ‘he’ you were referring to still Kelce, or was it him? Was his presence really so distressing to you that you were in tears?
Carter reluctantly bid you goodnight, and Rafe slipped into the pantry so she wouldn’t see him when she descended the stairs back into the kitchen, storming towards the backyard, surely on her way to give Kelce hell.
He stood in the walk-in pantry for a minute, collecting his thoughts. 
Maybe he should be the one to leave. If his presence really was such torment to you, it would be the right thing to do. But you didn’t seem tormented earlier when you were playing beer pong with him, cheering each other on and laughing like friends. Or before, at the fire, when you’d come to each other’s defense. Even his two best friends hadn’t seen that Sabrina’s words actually hurt him, but you did. You always knew him better than anyone.
While he stood in the pantry, illuminated only by the single light bulb above his head, his eyes grazed over the shelf. Between a stack of paper plates and some hamburger buns, sat the candy he had picked out for you at the store. He smiled at the memory of your many car rides as teenagers, fueled by the snacks you had brought when you picked him up. Maybe you regretted those times now, but something about the fact that this was still your favorite candy made him feel better.
His stomach twisted with worry that after what Kelce had said, you would decide to leave. The only worse thought was that he might let you go without finding the courage to say the words he’d been holding onto since he saw you on the beach. Maybe you’d slam the door in his face, but he couldn’t let you leave without trying.
Rafe grabbed your candy off the shelf and climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to knock on your bedroom door before he lost his nerve.
(Chapter 4)
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a/n: I LOVED hearing all your Team Tom vs. Team Rafe opinions!! The competition is heating up!!!! (not my outline for this chapter starting with “note: google rules to beer pong” lol)
Ch 4 predictions? 👀
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
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blkkizzat · 1 month ago
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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟸........... THE SORCERER KILLER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series
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visitor log: an extra toji fushiguro should be double the trouble and double the fun but neither likes to share, you know for sure which ones your toji—but do you really even care?
classifications: bratty!reader, brat taming, breeding, baby trapping, hair pulling, spit play + creampies, jealousy, grump!toji, daddy kink
incidents: 4.8k
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*bam-bam*
Your favorite playlist pulses through the speakers as you occasionally stir the creamy mac and cheese simmering that’s almost ready for dinner, the rich aroma of melted cheddar and butter fills the kitchen.
Using the spatula as a microphone you’re filming a cute lil reel for all your IG followers. So absorbed in the tasks the unexpected knock at the door pulls you from your groove.
“Toji—Daddy, I’m still cooking. Can you get the door?”
Urgh, you’d have to edit this out.
*bam-bam*
“Baby, there’s someone at the door!”
*bam-bam*
“TOJI! ANSWER THE DAMN DOOR NOW!”
Irritated, you stop recording and storm out of the kitchen. 
To be honest you are already at your wits’ end as Toji had been gone all week and had promised to take you out tonight—quarantine be damned—after being stuck in the house for so long. However, he showed up much earlier than expected, looking like a stray dog who hadn’t seen shelter in days and grumbling about being hungry. 
He frankly didn’t look like he’d be in any condition to take you out later but you weren’t about to let him weasel out of this so easily. So you drew him a bath, sat him in front of the TV with some beers and were now cooking him food like the good little domesticated girlfriend you were proving to be—ensuring he had no excuse not to take you out tonight.
You wanted date night and new content to post after so long in isolation!
Stomping into the living room, ready to tell him off, you find Toji completely knocked out on the sofa, sound asleep snoring, with a UFC match playing on the TV.
“Ugh, you’re lucky you’re kinda cute when you sleep, old man…”
You shake your head, yet the pounding at the door interrupts your musings. 
*bam-bam-bam*
“Yeah, yeah I’m coming! Keep it in your pants.”
Rolling your eyes, you mumble the last part under your breath.
Wiping your hands on your apron, you peep through the window only to see that your impatient visitor was—huh?!
TOJI!? 
“Hey, been waitin’ out ‘ere forever doll, lower the barrier. C’mon, mamas.”
You freeze before slowly backing away from the door.
Fuck! A doppelgänger …? 
Or wait…surely your Toji is already inside, right?
RIGHT?!
Quietly, you creep back down the hall into the living room to find Toji still passed out on the couch. His head tilts back, mouth opened wide enough to catch flies as he continues to snore, legs sprawled out in a manspread. In one of Toji’s hands he holds a scratched-off lottery ticket (he won 2000 yen), while the other lazily scratches his balls in his sleep. 
Empty, crushed beer cans are scattered across your coffee table, while the crumbs from your brand new, yet now-demolished, bag of wasabi peas linger on his chest.
Yeah… *sighs* ...this was definitely your Toji alright. 
It also dawns on you that with his heavenly restriction, any barrier is pretty much nullified. 
Toji didn’t need you to lower it for him. He could waltz right in himself like it wasn’t there—like he’d done earlier too—completely surprising you as he didn’t even bother to knock or call ahead. 
Okay, well, yay—your first dopplegänger encounter and you correctly identified it. 
That was simple enough.
Now to actually deal with the doppelgänger  at your door was a different matter entirely. 
You sure as fuck weren’t letting them in. 
But you also weren’t so sure it would just go away on its own as they’ve been reported to be pretty persistent.
Tsk, should you wake Toji up then? 
You knew Toji to be a big grumpy ol’ man bear after a nap and you didn’t want to deal with that. Plus, you’d barely seen him all week with an increase in his contracts from Shiu due to the doppelgänger  appearances, it’s why he’s passed out so hard in the first place.
Toji would be even more disgruntled to see a doppelgänger  of himself of all people, effectively ruining the night you’ve been waiting all week for.
So you would just have to get rid of this fraud Toji yourself…somehow.
Easier said than done though as it’s not like you could kill the thing yourself, being the low grade sorcerer you are, especially if it mimicked Toji’s strength too.
You lightly chew your nail in contemplation, unsure of what to do exactly when you hear the knocking again, this time more urgent. 
*bam-bam-bam-bam-bam*
Shit at this rate the real Toji would wake up.
With a huff you return to the foyer. You were more quiet this time in your approach but the doppelgänger  curse senses you regardless as he speaks to you through the door. 
“C’mon on baby, I’m so sorry for not being around as much. Please lower the barrier, alrite? I’ll make it up t’ya mamas.”
Cautiously peeking out the window again you frown as doppelgänger Toji is still parked outside your door, clearly not going anywhere. The copy was pretty convincing too you have to admit, looking every bit as delectable as the real thing—maybe even a bit more—given the actual Toji’s current sloppy couch potato status.
BUT—’So sorry?!’  
Since when did Toji ever so willingly apologize for anything—and the ‘please’?! 
Yeah, please is right, as it’s something Toji would never say this easily—this creature was definitely not your Toji!
Even if you had been moved ever-so-slightly by the tinge of genuine contrition in its voice, this thing had Toji’s personality all wrong.
You had to admit it was a pretty good ploy though. 
The curse even sounded just like Toji and used similar lingo, it was almost flawless—but—the flaw it did have was huge. 
“Listen, I’m gonna level with you. It’s not worth it buddy, turn into someone else. He's sleeping now but he'll literally rip you apart if he wakes up and I don’t wanna deal with the ‘tude he’s gonna have after. It will ruin our whole date night and I never get date night!”
You harshly whispered through the door. 
Although, to be honest you were a little embarrassed you let that last part slip out like that. However your frustrations from the isolation were boiling over and this Toji looked just like the real one, you couldn’t help but take it out a little bit on them.
“Besides, I know for a fact you aren’t the real Toji.”
Pulling away from the window, you check the barrier again as you silently hope the doppelgänger  will just get the hint and leave. 
Standing in the foyer, you don’t hear anything for a minute and you think it might have actually left—although you wouldn’t know without looking again as the thing seemingly also mimicked heavenly restriction to a certain extent as you weren’t able to sense him either. However, thankfully the limitations of the fraud Toji appeared to be keeping it from freely passing through barriers apparently—one thing thankfully that could not be mimicked. 
“Ya know ma…I already know—that you know, that is. Tsk, wouldn't be hard to figure out, given his abilities alone.”
Toji’s smooth voice comes through the door. Well, not your Toji, Toji #2, the doppelgänger. 
You had a sassy remark ready to throw at him but the doppelgänger’s next words give you pause.
“But it wasn’t the abilities that gave me away, right? He doesn't apologize as much as he needs to, eh ma?” 
Silence.
“N’ ya really think y’er going out somewhere tonight, mamas? That old man ain’t waking up for a while.” 
You're not sure how exactly to respond to copycat Toji. 
Thoroughly stunned, you know his words ring true, yet they manage to sound just as condescending as the real Toji does sometimes when he's certain he's right.
Scoffing, you know you remaining quiet is an answer all on its own. 
“You know you don’t deserve that, mamas… You could do better. Someone who could actually be around more, eh?”
Spot-on in his assessment, doppelgänger Toji doesn’t need to see you chewing on your lip to know he has you hooked. You are too caught up in your own head, left isolated for too long to think rationally at the moment. 
However, had you taken the time to peek out of the side window again, you would have seen the self-satisfied smirk on the clone’s face knowing he had slightly hooked you.
“Don’t think of me as a copy mamas—consider me an upgrade.”
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩
When Toji—the real Toji—finally wakes up, he’s practically ravenous. 
The wasabi peas did little to satisfy him, waiting for you to finish cooking your famous mac and cheese and drinking all that beer had amplified his hunger even more. 
Although overall, it had left him tired. He hadn’t been on this many jobs in literal years. Though he had turned down many contracts in the past out of disinterest or sheer laziness, the money these clowns were offering to eliminate wayward copies was pure insanity
Upwards of 150 million yen for some light-weight level one & two curses?
Toji would be a fool to turn down that easy money. 
And while certainly easy, the jobs had been tedious, feeling near endless. 
Nearly every bastard in Tokyo had a copy running around—if not multiple and after a week of non-stop work with barely any sleep, it finally caught up to Toji.
With a yawn more similar to a light roar, Toji looks around, cracking his stiff neck. He isn’t sure how much time has passed but he’s a little annoyed. Most of the lights are off and you are nowhere to be found, usually he’d hear you in the kitchen or you’d be curled up beside him, molded into his side body. 
His eyes briefly narrowing, Toji knows he was supposed to take you out tonight so you can finally get some air after being cooped up so long. But knowing how big a brat you could be, you’d better not have disobeyed him and gone outside yourself just because he’d overslept—it was still too dangerous.
Yet any remnants of sleep instantly dissipates when Toji hears your soft flirtatious laughter coming from the foyer. 
Rising up from his hibernation spot on your sofa and following the sound of your voice to the front of the house, Toji’s annoyance grows with every step. He can sense something’s off—his innate senses are screaming at him.
When Toji lays eyes on you he realizes there’s actually something that leaves him even more irritated than you speaking with your coworker, Gojo Satoru.
Much worse. 
You were talking, no—flirting with Toji’s own doppelgänger at that!
Not only had you made yourself comfortable, chatting with him through the screen door from a cozy chair while he sat on a stool he’d scooched over on the porch, but you’d even lowered the barrier long enough to give the lousy clone a plate of food—a plate Toji instantly recognized as the mac and cheese you were supposed to make for him.
You fed that fucker his food too?!
Toji’s patience dwindles rapidly as you fail to notice him right away—too deep in conversation, happily entertaining a version of Toji that, for once, actually listens to all the topics the real Toji dismisses as ‘girly shit.’ The clone lavishing praises of your dancing skills and how cute all your photos look as you show off your IG and TikTok. 
Even though you are genuinely clueless, it's apparent that his doppelgänger notices Toji. The subtle smirk and twitch of his clone's scarred lip mocks the real Toji as the doppelgänger leans into the barrier, trying to get closer to you. If Toji were the introspective type, he might have realized in that moment how insufferable he sometimes appeared to you, seeing as how much his own expression had just pissed him off—but the murderous intent boiling in his veins seared away any such thoughts.
“THE FUCK?!”
Hearing Toji’s roar starles you so bad you almost fall out of your chair. 
Snapping back to reality you had nearly forgotten you’d spent the last 3 hours or so chatting with DT—short Doppel Toji—as you dubbed him. Unlike your real block-headed oaf of a boyfriend you have, Doppel Toji was so easy to talk to—about anything! 
Wanting to learn more of human culture and customs, Doppel-Toji hung on to your every word as you explained the details of being a new breakout influencer and how hard it was seeing as the real Toji wanted you to block nearly every man who commented on any of your posts.  
“Oh, Toji, you’re finally up? It’s only been 3 hours and the restaurant is likely closing down by now!” 
You roll your eyes.
“Anyway while you were napping, Doppel-Toji, DT here, has been keeping me company.”
Doppel-Toji nodded in approval of the nickname, the same smarmy smirk on his face that the real Toji was itching to rip off.
You turn back to the real Toji, seemingly unaware of just how close he was to losing his entire shit. 
“Babe, these doppelgänger ’s aren’t that bad at all! Some, like DT here, just want to live normal lives as doubles! DT here wants to be a milkman, isn't that right?”
Doppel-Toji gives you a wide smile that reached into his eyes, one that creeped Toji out to see on his own face, especially as you were even smiling back at him foolishly not even realizing how the doppelgänger ’s gaze had since drifted onto your jiggly tits and then even lower to see how your dress had ridden damn near past your supple thighs. 
Wearing only your cute, thin, cotton-ribbed lil pj dress with cherries printed on it you were practically naked as the sheer material teases the color of your nipples and shows the outline of the thong straps digging into the swell of your thick hips.
Yeah, by the way his doppel is looking at you the real Toji is certain the only milkman job his freak of a doppel wants is to be one turning your succulent fat cunt into heavy cream.
Heh, over the Toji’s dead fucking body though—well the copy of it at least that's for sure.
“Mamas, c’mon you can’t be this bird-brained…”
The real Toji crossed his arms leaning on the wall trying to keep his cool so you'd realize on your own just how silly you were being but he unintentionally made you lose yours.
“A bird?! Did you just call me a fuckin’ bird Toji Fushiguro!?”
You turn back to Doppel-Toji, whose smirk shifts to an understanding expression by the time you meet his gaze again.
“See this is exactly what I was talking about!”
Pointing an accusing finger at the real Toji and DT nods sympathetically, shooting eyes over to the real Toji who didn’t need his enhanced senses of heavenly restrict to sniff-out this nice-guy act was all a fuckin’ farce from a mile away. 
Voicing your frustrations, you're still griping as you once again face the real Toji who was just about fuckin’ fed up with this stupid-ass charade. 
“Listen, Toji we need to talk… DT says you don’t appreciate me enough! You haven’t been around at all lately and I know you’ve been busy but you could at least call—”
The real Toji closes his eyes, unraveling his arms and cracking his neck as you continue to prattle on. He’s at his limit and he ain’t about to sit through a nagging lecture all while a phony ass version of himself sat there ridiculing him too.
Furthermore, despite there being truth to Toji not being around lately, he’d actually tried to make up for it the best he could. Toji had venmo’d you money to cover your groceries and bills—something he hadn’t done for a woman since his late wife!
Overindulging you, Toji even bought you the newly released iphone you wanted (even though you still have last year’s model and its working just fine). However, according to you— ‘you need the latest new camera for your reels! And what else were you supposed to do but take fire selfies for all your followers if you’re stuck inside all day!’ 
Rolling his eyes at the memory, Toji wasn’t exactly sure when you had domesticated him. Nevertheless, somehow he’d gone from asking you to ‘hold 4000 yen for the week’ to sending you large chunks of his payouts to keep you happy—all before he realized he’d cared enough about you to even go this far. 
If you being a materialistic attention-seeking slutty lil’ thing wasn’t enough, you were also greedy too—still not satisfied and pouting until he was home again to bend your legs back over your head while he ruined your greedy lil' pussy.
As a result of the real Toji spoiling you sour, you’d turned into the nag before him now. Acting like he cared nothing for you whenever you didn’t get your way exactly when and how you wanted it.
“—and that’s why DT says you better act right before you lose me!”
Heh…
Your clingy lil ass wasn’t going nowhere—you were a fuckin’ brat and Toji should have known it would come to this.
Opening his eyes with a chillingly murderous grin, Toji’s demeanor sends shivers down both you and the doppelgänger’s back. 
“S’that right ma?—Is that what he says, eh?”
From there it all happened so fast you weren’t sure what exactly even happened.
You think Toji had ripped the screen door off its hinges, destroying it and shattering the barrier while seemingly producing inverted spear of heaven out of thin air to take the doppelgänger's head right off his body. 
But you weren’t sure.
Where were you? Still in the foyer?
In fact, you can’t really be sure of anything at the moment as Toji has your nighty rolled up past your tits that bounce wildly in his face as his big brawny hands around forcibly slide you up and down on his girthy cock. 
You didn’t know where your panties had even gone, Toji likely tore them off, shredding them to bits, for all you know. 
Your thoughts and current timelines are utterly jumbled as Toji completely hollows out your insides, molding your poor abused hole to the shape of his cock. His brawny grip imprints into your flesh, slamming your hips flush to his while allowing his bulbous cockhead to roughly kiss your cervix with every breath-stopping thrust down on his length. Shivers furiously ripple through your body as your clit is continuously assaulted over and over by the unkept pubes at his base. 
The rough treatment—just how you like it—releases waves of sublime ecstasy sizzling in your brain. Toji is effectively lobotomizing you with his mean fat cock, the relentless drilling thrusts liquifying your consciousness.
Fuck…wait—um, what was your name again even? 
The only name, thing, place you can think of right now begins and ends with Toji as he continues to bully himself inside your body, rippling shockwaves through your cunt that shift your organs around just to his liking.
“Tojiiiiiii, d-dahddy puh-leaseeee!!”
Your slurs are near intelligible but Toji can still make out his name as drool spills over your lips almost as fast as your babbles, thoughts of his doppel completely wiped from your slutty lil’ head. 
Yet even with the now decapitated clone, it wasn’t fully dead just yet. It was a stronger one, near special grade, severing its body parts wouldn't be enough to destroy them. The effects of the inverted spear made RCT impossible for it though as it withered on the ground.
It lay helplessly, dying slowly as Toji fucked the dogshit out of you on the comfy chair you had once been in. Proving to you and the curse that no copy could ever hope to have you falling apart like this—completely dumb for his cock only.  
So easily getting cockdrunk anytime Toji stirs up your guts is why you don’t even register the raspy words Toji practically growls as you—
“You hear that, baby?”
Smacking your ass hard, your flesh ripples against Toji’s palm.
“Answer me slut!”
His insatiable plundering of your cunt as you so blissed-out that the sting of your sore redding ass startles you.
“T-T-Tojsshii!!!”
You whine, sobbing as tears pour down your face, soaking your nighty that was damn near pushed up to your neck now. Toji knowing how big he was usually let you have the reins while in cowgirl but not this time—this was your punishment for being such a bitchy lil’ brat thinking he could be swayed behind some empty fuckin' threats of being replaced.
“Nuh-uh, slutty mamas.”
Toji mercilessly delivers another opened palmed smack that sizzles the nerve ends on your reddening bottom.
“Ya fed that discount version of me my dinner—so I’mma have to make my own—mmm ya hear that?  My version of mac n’ cheese s’almost ready.” Of course, the mac and cheese Toji is referring to his none other than your ooey gooey cunt. Your pussy lips stretch to their limits, yet desperately swallowing his thick girth with a series of wet squelches, glops, and bubbles. The milky fluids that are pushed out of you make an awful mess, running down Toji’s heavy balls and soiling your expensive comfy velvet chair. 
“Now this—this is how you make mac n’ cheese ma, hear that creaminess? You thought that fuckin’ loser ass fake was gonna make a freak-nasty pussy like yours sing like this?”
You can only gasp in response, trying to hang onto him and your own sanity while you dig your nails into Toji’s biceps for leverage as he drills you down on him within an inch of your sanity—the acoustics of your cunt ringing salaciously in your ears. 
“Tsk, look at ya ma, actin’ like you can’t take it when this is what ya really fuckin' wanted all week.”
PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP!
You’re really going to have to speak up now to get Toji to hear you over the sordid sounds of your cheeks being clapped to hell and back. 
"HMPH! MMM—N-No! AHHH—I-I want… SHIIIIIIT S’GUD—ahhh ahhh—d-date!!”
Another slap stings your ass as you pathetically pout, making Toji smack your jiggly flesh once more for good measure. Your cute lil’ expressions only fuel his mean streak.
“Now mamas, ya know we were never gonna go on that date—n’ I know, ya know why.”
Blushing, you bite your lip, shaking your head as you feign ignorance. holding back your sobs—not wanting to own up to what you and Toji both already know to be facts.
“C’mon slut, don’t act all shy now. Ya know the reason why we never go on dates—because this filthy leaky cunt of yours can’t be ‘round me for too long without wanting to get filled up—at the movies *smack* —in the back of the bar *smack* —heh, didn’t ya even make me fuck ya horny lil ass dirty in the filthy-ass stall at the park? *smack* Bratty lil cunt not being able to wait the 5 minute drive home…”
Your pussy flutters tighter around Toji, answering for you as he continues to chuckle at your embarrassment. You were a shameless lil' whore for his dick, and you were at your worst level of brat when you didn’t get it for even a short period of time.
“Whaddya say then? Ya don’t think I appreciate ya ma? Even though I fuck ya, whenever and however your pretty pussy begs for it? Heh. Well then, let me show this pretty cunny how much she's appreciated.” 
Further sliding down the chair, Toji plants his feet firmly on the ground so he can pump himself into you harder. The new angle has his cock pounding deliciously against your g-spot. You bounce wildly for a few pumps before your core muscles, fatigued and screaming at you, have you falling forward onto him. Nuzzling your head into his well-sculpted chest to smother your wails, you're unable to do anything but just take it. 
“Ya hear that, mamas? That's your pussy saying thank you to my cock. She’s always so grateful t'me mamas, better behaved than you anyday.”
Biting into one of his large pectorals Toji chuckles at your feeble attempt to still rebel against him. Your bites feel more akin to a soft tickle—yet the indents your teeth leave spark a feral urge in Toji, who in turn, ramps up the voracity a few levels. 
Sliding his hands from your waist he grips your cheeks, spreading them while you sink down further a few millimeters that almost seemed impossible, already being so full of him. 
“I know she knows how much I care about ‘er by the way she’s gushin’ on me, squeezing me like she’s begging me make her cum, she deserves it even if ya don’t.”
Cheeks cracked-open wide, your puckered rear exposed, Toji smirks as he presses his middle finger against your ridges to toy with the entrance of your asshole. When Toji starts rimming the tight ring of muscle in a furious circular motion, the finger already so slick n’ sticky from your juices—you can already feel just how fuckin hard your about to cum.
“Tsk—shame that mouth of yours you always gettin’ her and your lil’ ass in trouble, eh?”
Soundless moans leave you, your throat raw from the straining of your vocals—that is until Toji sinks his burly finger deeper into your hole, hooking and pressing against the thin wall to the point he can feel how hard he is coring-out your cunt from even the tight insides of your ass.
OH FUCK! 
Too much! 
Too good!
The intrusive and unexpected assault on your back hole is what finally does it for you. Toes curling to the point of cramps your bision blacks out and you think you lost consciousness completely but its your own vocals croaking out cries as you cum—hard that grounds you back to reality. Shivers take over your body and your clenching around Toji so ferally he lets out his own string of curses and he bites into your neck, filling you up—his hefty load overstuffing your pussy as it squelches out and down the sides of his cock.
You don’t know how much time has passed but you’re still trembling in the afterglow of your orgasm. Weakly look up at Toji, all teary-eyed and dazed, in pout so adorable it only makes him want to ruin you more in the most animalistic way possible.
You honestly had him wrapped around your finger like no woman had before and he was going to fuck that knowledge into you, preventing this situation from happening again.
Better yet—Toji was gonna fuck a baby into you to prove it. 
Sear his cum directly into your walls, painting you with his scent and effectively turn your womb into a pretty lil' dump over n’ over—until he finally planted his kid in you.
You wouldn’t be able to complain to him about being lonely then and fuck knows how long this doppelgänger shit was gonna last. 
Fuck tho.
The thought of you fully pregnant and round with his child got his dick back up n’ jumpin’ just from picturing you n'your cute round lil' belly waddling around. So much so that when Toji pulls you off of him to manhandle you into the next position he doesn’t even notice your brand new phone on the ground next to his feet until— 
*CRUNCH*
“Tojiiii my new phone! I still have reels that haven’t been posted!!!”
You’re coughing out your complaints, dizzy and out of breath from being fucked so hard. Scanning the ground for your phone you can barely support yourself as you bend forward to access the damage, until you feel Toji snatch you back up.
“Heh, fuck that phone and fuck ya IG ma. I’mma about to give ya something to put on a sonogram instead—now drape ya fine self over the back of this chair n’ toot that pretty peach of an ass up.”
The slap to your backside this time is so loud the force causes your ears to ring along with the rest of your body to tingle, your tongue lolling out of your mouth drooling from the force rocking into your overstimmed cunt. 
“N’ m’not asking ya!”
You would have surely collapsed to the ground if Toji, fed up, hadn’t just taken matters into his own hands and positioned your limp, ragdoll-like body over the chair himself.
Ass up and out on display, Toji parts your swollen folds with his thumbs. Admiring his cum plugging your gaping slit, Toji gifts a wad of spit into your hole adding to the fluids before he rubs his dick, now even harder than before, through your ruined folds. 
Grabbing your hair and yanking your head back Toji’s words send shivers down your spine as he bullies himself into your core once more—all in one go, taking him in so nicely like a slutty lil glove.
“Listen ma, the only DT I ever wanna hear you say is ‘Daddy Toji’. Now scream it for me, baby. Loudly. Tell the whole neighborhood, eh? They're already lookin’. ”
Huh? What was he…Fuck, the front door was wide open this entire time?!?!
Struggling to keep your bleary eyes open, your body keenly jolts from the backshots Toji is ruthlessly gifting your cunt. Losing yourself to pleasure again you see another doppelgänger on the approaching from the street—
This time it’s a perfect copy of—you! 
However your copy freezes on the lawn once it catches sight of your state caused by the giant bear of a man recklessly pummeling into your limp body from behind and his nearly dead doppel, whose limbs still miraculously twitch while scattered over the porch. 
Your doppel’s face twists in horror before she quickly flees the scene, smart enough to have more self-preservation than Toji’s as she wisely decides against engaging in any of these fuckin’ problems.
......RESULT: FAILED. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛—𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎.
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that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)
comment and reblog! next up geto, already finished posting 10/21.
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 11 months ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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priniya · 14 days ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 END OF THE DAY ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ
pairing. lando norris x reader
summary. being a supportive girlfriend during an awfully stressful time is hard, so when reader and lando ends up fighting, neither of them is surprised. however, she can’t help but be in love with him at the end of the day.
notes. pretty short and not proofread 😕😕
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YOU WERE WALKING ON EGGSHELLS FOR THE PAST two weeks around your boyfriend. he was thrown into contention for the title mid-season and as the last race weekend of the season was getting excruciatingly closer, lando’s mood was dropping drastically. you understood it, not in the way that you were in the same situation as him, but frustration, pressure and disappointment weren’t strangers to you. you could see that your boyfriend was gradually becoming a ticking bomb, yet unsure when will his breaking point happen.
as it turned out, it happened on a second day after he got back from brazil. it was a silly argument that escalated to a major fight, resulting in you, driving back to your apartment in ventimiglia to give the brit his required space.
it wasn’t ideal, coming home, you hardly stepped a foot into your apartment, when lando was in monaco as you usually stayed at his place to get as much of him as possible in the — usually — short period of time. norris, unbeknownst to you, immediately felt terrible just as he watched you left. guilt creeped up his spine, yet he made no effort to stop you, knowing that he needed some space to get ahold of himself. no title could make him fill the void if he lost you.
so, after a few days of radio silence from one another, you were starting to feel like you were losing the precious time you had with lando. the clip from max fewtrell’s stream with your boyfriend there, saying that he’s eating food that sat in his fridge for more than six months or staying awake for 26 hours, has found its way into your twitter feed. it made you worry restlessly.
thirty or so minutes later, while lando was still playing some game with max and a few of their friends, you let yourself into his apartment and started rummaging through his to find all those expired items and threw them out, already making an order for new groceries. as much petty as you could be sometimes, you didn’t want your boyfriend to end up with food poisoning, it was kind of oscar’s thing now.
cleaning his fridge took you fifteen minutes at most, considering that you threw up a huge portion of its content. it was just then, when you decided to put on your big girl pants and face him. you made him some tea with lemon and honey, before quietly tapping him on the shoulder.
“jesus christ!” he shrieked, causing you to giggle. “mate, i think i’m having some sorta proper hallucinations.” your boyfriend spoke into his headset, not believing the sight in front of him — not believing that he was seeing you. you could’ve easily picked up the guys taking a piss out of him, which made you laugh even harder.
“you need sleep, lad.” “yeah, you sound like a maniac.” “that’s the expired meat speaking.”
“don’t worry ‘bout it, lads. i’ll take care of him.” you moved closer to the microphone to let the guys know that everything’s taken care of, fully aware that max, your boyfriend’s best friend, would get concerned.
“i’m super sorry.” lando spoke softly, once you left the discord call. his arms snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against him — almost as if he had really missed you. “i love you so much, please don’t break up with me.” he added. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back the chuckle upon not only hearing his words, but also upon seeing his childish-like expression.
you managed to escape his embrace, dropping your hand into his, while trying to drag him back into his room for a nap. it wasn’t a hard task with lando trailing right behind you until you sat him down at the edge of the bed.
“i’m not mad at you, baby.” you reassured him in a gentle tone. your hand caressing his cheek. “i still love you, okay? but you gotta go to bed, lando. we’ll talk later, alright?” you tried to coax him into listening to you and you’ve succeeded.
WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND WOKE UP A FEW HOURS later, he thought that your presence in his apartment was just a dream. having pushed himself off the bed, he walked to the kitchen to finish off his expired chicken. that’s when he found you lounging on the couch, while eating something that smelled incredibly well.
yup, he must’ve been hallucinating.
with that in mind, he didn’t even approach you, trying not to feed into his delusions. if his mates knew that he started seeing his girlfriend after eating something that spent a few months in his fridge, they would never let him live it down. he furrowed his brows at the sight of a pan full of carbonara that he had no recollection of making — maybe he should go see a doctor?
lando sighed in relief after having taken a sniff of the dish, realising that somehow it’s not gone bad. how did it ended up in his place? no idea.
“bloody hell, no more eating expired food. i’m seeing stuff.” the brit muttered, rubbing his face in slight frustration. upon hearing his quiet mutter, you let out a small chuckle, tilting your head to the side in amusement.
“lando, you know i’m real, right?” you mused, a small smile creeping up on your lips. your boyfriend’s forehead creased in confusion. god, he seemed so out of it. “as in, i came here this afternoon, you’re not seeing stuff.” your words were coated with hilarity as you gave him a look.
lando was bewildered. twenty six hours of sleep weren’t that much, how did he forget that you got to his apartment and, apparently, talked to him? his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he put the plate down on the coffee table and sat next to you.
“i, uh, wanted to call.” he spoke, his head hanging a bit lower. “t’was unnecessary, my outburst, i mean.” a sigh escaped his lips. he was slowly beginning to look like a sad, kicked puppy.
“it was super unnecessary.” you agreed, running a hand through his hand in a slow motion. “we can’t really go back in time, can we?” he shook his head at your words, taking your hand in his hair as an invitation, so he moved closer to you, his arm sneaking around your waist.
“but you still love me?”
“yes, lando. i still love you.” you leaned your head on his shoulder.
“good, i would probably kill myself, uh, or die without you.”
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moonstruckme · 6 months ago
Note
a thought:
reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!
Thanks for requesting!
cw: d/s dynamics
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words
You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 
“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 
“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 
You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 
Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 
You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 
“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 
“Don’t feel like those.” 
Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 
You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 
What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 
“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 
You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 
“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 
You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 
You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 
“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 
Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 
It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 
“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 
Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 
You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 
A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.
He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 
“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 
Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 
“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 
He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 
You hum, eyes already closing. 
“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”
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giamee · 6 months ago
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!
... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now
༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men
༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.
you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.
it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.
he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.
it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.
your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.
and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.
you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.
he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.
it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.
he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.
hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.
and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.
you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.
and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!
if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.
he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.
you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.
once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.
despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.
he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.
it'll help in the exam.
you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.
he'll be damned if you don't get an A.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.
in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.
and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.
and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.
he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.
"it's ok to take a break, honey."
you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.
"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."
you shake your head.
"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"
he feels you nod against his chest.
"ok, then let's do that."
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!
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IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?
the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3
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evilminji · 8 months ago
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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buzzinrusso · 21 days ago
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PLEASE DON'T LEAVE
( I have nothing).
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Summary : ever since you joined Barcelona a year ago ,you've known that you have had feelings for ingrid and mapi .
Contains :angst.
Part 1 / part 2 / part 3
It has been about 3 years since you first met mapi , two since you met her girlfriend, ingrid , and one year since you joined them in Barcelona.
The day you signed your 5 year contract was by far the best day of your shitty life,but there was always a pit in your stomach whenever you glanced at Maria leon and ingrid engen.
They were happily in love ,they lived together , had two cats ,and were learning each other's languages. It felt so wrong to feel the things you were feeling for them .
Whether it was the butterflies in your stomach when one of them looked at you or the way you would state longingly at them when they interacted, that made it feel wrong for you to have feelings for them.
So ,you swallowed the feelings down and accepted the fact that you will never be the one they love ,the one they have feelings for . They would never love someone like you.
You were fucked up in more ways that one ,you were.disowned by your mother at 15 when you came out and was sent to live with you father ,whom ,even though was extremely nice , you didn't know.
Your life was just a series of unfortunate events after that. You had a couple of girlfriends, but two of them cheated, and the other was sent to overaction camps and was convinced that she wasn't gay anymore .
At some point ,you had to juggle 3 different jobs to even think about staying in football as a goalkeeper,even after being signed to a big club like Arsenal at 16.
Now at 26 ,you had accomplished all of your young dreams ,but you still felt so alone.
You weren't really close with all the girls on the team,only cata ,Claudia, and occasionally mapi its not that they don't like you,it's just that they were all already close and just assumed that you would immediately fit in .
Spoiler alert ,you didn't.
As a goalkeeper, you were fine.but it took you roughly 2 months to even become friends with everyone.
Current,at practice , you were lifting weights as it was a gym day .You were able to beat your own personal record by lifting 200 kg today ,the girls ,specifically ingrid and mapi ,cheered for you , but what you didn't notice was they way the couple were staring at you .
Ot was not a normal look they spared all the other girls ,it was different .
Their eyes lingered, but just as mapi was about to approach you, Jonathan walked through.
"Team bonding tonight . Who wants to host?" He informed everyone.
Mapi and ingrid immediately jumped at the opportunity to have everyone over (they really just wanted you.)
"Okay ,good, text the girls the information . And ,please, I need everyone to show up." The team nodded along to his words ,knowing how important team bonding nights are vital.
Later in the evening
As soon as you got home ,you jumped in the shower .
After that,you had a little nap after eating your food,and 7 pm came rolling in no time .
It was a casual movie night at ingrid and mapi's, so you just wore your old university hoodie with some oversized jeans wich a dab of makeup.
Before you went to their home, you stopped by the store to buy some popcorn as the girls had run out the kernels and may or may not have bought two roses from a small boutique besides the shop .
You made your way through the busy highways of Barcelona before finally reaching your destination.
You made your way up the stairs and knocked on the door only for Frido to open.
"Hello!" Frido exclaimed with a smile and pulled you into a hug as if you hadn't seen her today.
"Hi ,frido," you smiled fondly at her .
She moved away ,took the kernels from your hand, and made her way into the kitchen ,but not before teasing you for the two flowers in hand.
You made your way into the living room ,only to stop as you dropped you phone.
"I mean ,I can't believe Y/n thinks she has a chance with you two!" You heard alexia exclaimed," perra idiota. " she laughed,making everyone laugh along with her .including mapi and ingrid, who she was directing the question to.
You immediately turned around and walked put ,slamming the door behind you, which caused mapi to perk up .
"Did you hear that ?"
At the same time ,fridolina walked in ,"where's y/n ? Did she go to the bathroom?"
Realization dawned on everyone as ingrids face paled .She and mapi made their way to the door as quickly as possible while mapi was letting out a string of curse words.
Meanwhile ,you were sitting in your car trying not to cry your eyes out as you drove back home .
As soon as you stepped foot into your apartment,you broke down in sobs .of course, they think that of you.you we're nothing but a failure your entire life .
You didn't know how anyone who was as good and perfect as mapi and ingrid would ever like someone like you.
You hated yourself ,you should've known .
"I can't believe Y/n thinks she has a chance with you two!"
The words rang in the back of your mind as you collapsed onto the floor .
All you could hear was her words repeating and the lingering laughs in the back of your mind .
You knew that your life was messed up ,that you were messed up , you just didn't know why they needed to point it out .
This was the last thing you expected from anyone.e on the team , your heart hammered in your chest as you stopped sobbing .
This wasn't good for you ,you knew it wasn't. You tried pulling away from the world once and it ended up with you in a while different country with your dad whom you barely knew .
But you couldn't help yourself ,so for the upcoming days ,you would pull yourself away from everyone while taking to your manager about a transfer.
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radiance1 · 1 month ago
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Danny often felt tired, as of late.
He wasn't certain as to why he did, though. It happened after his, apparent, coronation as the Prince of the Infinite Realms and after finally getting a boyfriend out of that damsel in distress who made him into one.
Which was unfortunate, because though he may try, it was very hard to pay attention on dates when Danny felt he just came from using the Ecto-Skeleton and no amount of sleep would make it go away. Fortunately, however, Billy was very understanding and accommodating of his plight, letting him sleep on him whenever he wanted and having their dates be less mentally/physically demanding things.
Man, Danny loved his boyfriend.
Unfortunately, he was away on one of his Justice League mission things.
Another thing he noticed, is that he liked to sleep in more cold places now. Very, very cold places.
So much so, that he genuinely debated moving to the Far Frozen if not for his parents turning his room into a literal walk-in freezer for him.
Did he ever find out why he needs to sleep so much? No, not really. But man.
Danny could go down for a nap right now.
---
Pariah was having a good, very good day.
He woke up, stretched, ate some food he didn't actually need to, did some light exercises after aeons of not using his sword and just fighting in general and sat down for some tea.
Even had a letter from the Master of Time with a P.S that two humans would be busting down his door!
Wait what-
"Ghost King!" Came the rather loud, effeminate shout accompanying the loud slam of his castle doors. "Where is our son!"
Honestly, Pariah is impressed by the lungs on that human.
"You heard her!" He looked down calmly at the... Actually, what in the infinite is that? Since when did humans go walking around with cannons??? "Tell us where our son is our so help me! Ghost King or not we'll exorcise you right where you stand!"
Pariah blinked slowly, very, very slowly.
Then took a sip of his favorite ghost blend then calmly placed the cup back down.
"You must be the boy's, human, parents I presume?" He asked calmly, gaze sweeping over them both. They seemed to be prepared for war, a burning fire in their eyes as they stared down the very King of Infinity and saw only an obstacle.
Oooooh, how that made the part of him that longed, sung for battle purr in sheer delight.
"Why don't you join me for tea?" He said, waving a hand and conjuring forth two extra, human sized, chairs on the opposing end of his table alongside two more tea cups. "And explain whatever is going on, while you're at it."
The two shared a glance between each other, then slowly lowered their weapons down to a point where they could still draw them at a moment's notice, yet not actively antagonizing the king at the same time-
Oh, he just loves these types of mortals.
-before slowly making their way to their seats, which were right next to each other of course. Married and whatnot.
"Tea?" He flicked a finger, filling their cups with the same that was in his cup but before remembering. "Ah, right. Human and your mortality." He casually mentioned, flicking his finger and changing the liquid to one of the few mortal blends he could still recall. "Worry not, for they are not poisoned." He chuckled lightly.
Honestly, doing such a thing would be beneath him, especially when faced with mortals of such fire.
"Now," He brought his cup to his lips. "Why don't you inform me as to what, exactly, has brought you to my doorstep prepared for battle?"
They, once more, exchanged a glance between each other, making sure the king was still in sight before Maddie opened her lips.
"Our son is missing."
---
The summoning was a success.
A terrible, terrible success.
One that the Justice League, One John Constantine especially, had valiantly attempted to stop.
But, unfortunately, once it got going it seemed to be incapable of stopping.
Faced with an entity being summoned from the Infinite Realms, they had called all of the heroes who were capable that weren't occupied. Shazam, unfortunately, was one of said heroes occupied.
Superman and Wonderwoman? Were not. So, at the very least, they had two of their heaviest hitters available.
The circle glowed a toxic green, growing and growing in glow until it reached its zenith.
Then was snuffed out as brightly as it glowed.
The air stilled, followed by a chill that rivaled the chilliest of snowstorms as if they were standing within one that very moment.
The next moment?
Ice.
Pure, unflinching, jagged pillars of ice rose from the circle the same moment it glow returned. Sticking out from the circle haphazardly and nearly impaling those that stood too close.
Mist, thick, blue mist. Rolled from the pillars of ice, descending down onto the floor with a gentleness that was almost deceptive if not occupied by such cold and being completely and utterly unnatural as it was.
The Justice League readied themselves.
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peppermint-toads · 9 months ago
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*not proofread at all not even a little*
simon had finally, finally left you the fuck alone.
he’d been staying the night at your apartment for days on end, not that you minded. not really, at least.
you only started getting frustrated when you started getting… frustrated.
he’d left to go do some grocery shopping because you had “no fucking food in your house.” he needed to eat. sue him.
you played it casual, shrugging and throwing a sarcastic apology at him as he left. as soon as the door slammed shut, you were running to your bedroom and flinging open your nightstand drawer.
you grabbed your pink vibrator, a nice g-spot one.
this had to be quick. you’d never live it down if simon came home to see you in the midst of that. you got right to business, holding the power button until the familiar buzz overtook you.
you didn’t hear simon reentering. cheeky bastard only caused a ruckus when he was leaving.
“forgot it’s sunday love, shops are closed by now,” simon chuckled to himself. you didn’t respond, and you were nowhere to be seen. ah, your door was closed. you probably just wanted a nap.
simon approached, and his heart dropped when he heard cries of pain? he was immediately reaching for the door handle, but then the pain morphed into a sound he’d never heard you make. it was whinier than a cry of pain. it gave him pause.
“holy fuck! yes, yes, yes, yes!”
oh.
simon was totally not supposed to hear you climaxing.
he heard rustling behind the door and the squeak of your mattress as you got up. he’d memorized every creak the floor made and you were heading straight for him.
he took a few steps back as to hopefully look casual.
you opened your door with your eyes squeezed shut, arms reaching into the air as you stretched, shaking off the last bits of stress that washed away with your orgasm.
when you opened your eyes you were met with a rather stiff looking simon. why was he feeling so embarrassed? he’d gone to war for chrissakes and can’t handle just hearing the female orgasm?
luckily, you were completely oblivious.
“shops are closed. it’s sunday.” he repeated, more meekly this time.
“oh, okay. i’m sure there’s something in there. i’ll whip somethin’ up for you after i shower.”
you shoved past him and into the bathroom. the squeak of the shower head was mere background noise to all the thoughts racing through simon’s brain.
he stood paralyzed for at least two minutes.
the sliver of mussed sheets he could see through your cracked door was all too tempting.
he sat on your warm bed, and he swore he could smell you. he looked over at your nightstand. no. he shouldn’t. he can’t. that’d be wrong. so, so wrong.
andddd he’s reaching for the drawer.
he sees the toy, can see the slick on it from where you’d hastily shoved it back in just in case simon came home before you could clean it.
it was still warm. he looked at it, imagined the almost painful moans tearing from your throat. and he laughed. he laughed! the absolute gall of this man.
he’s sorry, it was just so small compared to him. he’d hate to imagine the struggle you’d go through taking him. he actually doesn’t hate it. he really loves it. loves it so much actually, all the blood in his entire giant body rushes right to his cock.
he leaves. immediately. he runs, literally runs, back to his apartment to rub one out. he returns to your apartment about an hour later with takeout in hand.
“didn’t want you to have to cook anything, love,” he lied. and you were none the wiser
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livecrow · 1 month ago
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You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.
Dark!Ghost x fat fem reader drabble
CWs: dead dove, rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism
(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)
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It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.
In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more? 
No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people  “jus’ need killin’”. 
As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality. 
No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.
Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.
You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it. 
Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.
The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.
Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.
Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.
On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.
He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.
You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.
“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he? 
He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.
Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn. 
He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing. 
As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.
Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.
Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.
It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged. 
His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.
The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.
He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.
He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".
You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.
You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”. 
The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.
He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.
On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like. 
You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.
Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.
”...you'll taste better.”
He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes. 
“Chew.”
It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.
“Swallow.”
His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then. 
With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.
Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.
The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.
Then it’s on your tongue.
He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue 
“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.
Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.
The sounds you make when gagged are special little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.
Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.
If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation. After all, he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking. Dopamine to counteract the stress.
Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and unfortunately he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.
He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, arms, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any squishy bit of you. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a little. 
His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze. 
He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the shop's many meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.
He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.
He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hand are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.
It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.
Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.
That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.
Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.
He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker. 
From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.
He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, clean and sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it. 
It’s been months now you’ve been with him and the day never comes. 
...
You didn't dare question it.
But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.
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oracle-of-dream · 9 months ago
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Frame by Frame
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Minors DNI
Summary: Your brother Jay invited his friend Sunghoon over to spend the night at the house. The three of you had mostly grown up together, so you knew him pretty well. Something's off with him... he keeps looking at you.
Warnings: Male Reader, Muscle Kink, Rough Sex, Brother's Best friend, Breeding, Spit play, Pet names (Baby), Soft Dom Sunghoon, Sunghoon has a big dick, Aftercare, Jaywon (briefly)
Wordcount: 3.5k
You woke up from a midday nap to the smell of food being cooked downstairs. The Sun was still shining into your window, but you could tell it was the afternoon by its dark orange color.
Climbing out of bed, you remembered your parents said they'd be out of town for the week. Probably because it was spring break for you, and they didn't want to be around when both their kids would be home again. They were way too happy to send you and your brother off to college...
You put on some sort of t-shirt before leaving your room to investigate the kitchen. There were two voices; one was Jay, your brother. The other was Sunghoon, his best friend since you were five years old. Sunghoon and Jay went everywhere together. To the movies, the gym, cafes, and even the same college too. It really felt like they were dating each other with how much Sunghoon was around, even if your parents treated him like another kid.
Stepping into the kitchen, you saw Sunghoon in a sleeveless red shirt with gray sweatpants. Jay was wearing something similar in green and black. They probably just came back from the gym. Jay had shouted something about it before you'd fallen asleep.
"It smells good. What's on the menu today, chef?" You smiled at your brother the way you did when you needed something from him.
"If you do the dishes after dinner, then it's a tomato bruschetta with salmon," Jay replied without looking up at you.
"What!? Why do I have to do the dishes?"
"You want to eat the food I'm working hard to make, then you have to contribute."
You rolled your eyes. "You hate the way I wash the dishes, you always say it's not done right and end up doing them anyway–and what about Sunghoon? He's eating too, so he has to do the dishes!"
Sunghoon was about to protest but Jay beat him to it. "Fine. Both of you start washing these dishes. If it's not clean by the time I'm done, then the dog is eating really well tonight."
Sunghoon didn't bother arguing. "I wash, you dry?" He asked while handing you a clean rag.
Your stomach was too empty to think of a good argument about why Sunghoon was the person who should do everything. "Fine," You snatched the rag from him and lifted yourself onto the counter to sit. For the next ten minutes, you dried the dishes as he handed them to you. Your mind wandered, thinking about how hungry you were. You looked over at Sunghoon washing the dishes, his huge biceps flexing as he worked over every dish. He'd been going to the gym as much as Jay, but he always had a better shape than him. His arms were incredible, his shoulders also pretty broad, and his side profile wasn't half bad either... He definitely wasn't the kid you'd grown up with anymore.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Sunghoon's eyes looking over at you, catching you staring at him.
"Y/n, you alright?"
"Y–Yeah, just still a little drowsy..."
Jay finished making the food and started planting the table. "Did you really sleep all day, y/n?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Those are the same pajamas you've been wearing for the past two days..." He dryly replied.
"Well–What did you do today, Jay?"
"I cleaned the house, got groceries, picked up Sunghoon, and then we went to the gym. Then we came back here and I cooked for the entire house."
"Three people, but okay... that's supposed to be a break and you're working like a house husband!"
Jay picked up the plate sitting at your place at the table. "So, that's a no to the food?"
"Okay–Let's not get out of hand. You started it."
"That's what I thought," Jay set your plate down and returned to his seat. He waited for you and Sunghoon to finish the dishes and join him. Dinner was pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, with a bowl of fruit. Jay knew you loved breakfast for dinner, and it was all prepared and set to perfection.
You all eat together, not talking very much as you focus on the food. Sunghoon was wolfing the food down like usual, making a mess.
"Hey, you're going to get food on the floor!" You pushed him slightly, "I'm not cleaning the floor if you make a mess."
He replied with a mouth full of food, "Relax, Mom!" Sunghoon has egg on his face and crumbs on his shirt.
You pinched the egg off his face and tossed it to the dog to eat. But when you looked back at Sunghoon, he was staring at you.
"What? Were you gonna eat that?" You asked.
He shook his head, "No, it's nothing."
The air hung heavy between you. Sunghoon has been acting like that sometimes around you, creating some sort of tension between you. But you couldn't think of what you could've done to make him bothered by you. He was fine earlier...
Jay cut through the silence. "Well. Sunghoon, are you still staying the night?"
Sunghoon nodded. More invested in the food now, even though his plate was almost empty.
Jay turned to you, "Y/n, you doing anything tonight? We can all hang out if you want."
You shrugged. "I don't think I've got anything for me. So I'll be around."
The three of you continued dinner without much extra conversation. You went back to your room, Jay started washing the dishes from dinner, and Sunghoon stayed in the kitchen to talk to Jay.
You watched some TikToks in your room until you got a text from Sunghoon.
SH: Hey...
You sat up in bed so you could give it more attention. Why would he put the ... in there?
YN: What's up?
SH: I hope I didn't make you upset earlier. About the dishes. You were kinda giving me daggers, so I just wanted to make sure we're cool.
YN: Of course! I didn't mean to look upset, I was just thinking.
SH: What, about?
YN: Random stuff, I can't even really remember it now...
You knew you couldn't just say, "Oh I was thinking about how good you've been looking these days. Great gains, bro!" You needed to play it cool.
SH: Oh, okay. Can I get your thoughts on something?
Your heart raced, just for a moment.
YN: What is it?
SH: What do you think about this, hot or not? Jay says not.
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You stared at the picture of Sunghoon in the gym's locker room. You tried not to laugh at his expression.
YN: I think you could work on your expression. Try smiling or something. Most guys just focus on showing their body rather than their face at the gym anyway.
There was a pause in the messages. Sunghoon didn't reply for a full five minutes...
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SH: What about these?
YN: Sunghoon, why do you need me to tell you if you look good? You've always been the most handsome out of you, me, and Jay.
SH: Well, Jay won't even look at them. But it's good to know you think I'm good-looking.
You blushed and scoffed at your phone... You couldn't tell if he knew what he was doing to you. Your body was going crazy.
YN: Well, whatever. I think the photos are all fine.
SH: Last one.
You braced yourself for another sleeveless selfie, but what you got was way better.
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You almost dropped your phone when you saw him shirtless. He was absolutely doing it on purpose. Making sure not to actually show you anything, just some collarbone.
SH: Thoughts?
YN: Yep, still looks good.
SH: Well, you can send me photos too. Let me rate you.
You caught a look of yourself in the reflection of your phone. You looked more than a little rough.
YN: Um, I don't really have photos...
SH: Then should we fix that? I can take some photos for you.
YN: Why do I need pictures?
SH: ...I dunno. It just felt fair, since I forced you to look at me. I should look at you too.
You thought about sending Sunghoon photos of yourself. What kind of photos would he even want?
YN: What kinda photos are we talking about?
SH: Anything, I'm just here to help. Just like you did for me.
You spent almost twenty minutes trying to find a photo that seemed decent enough to send. Changing your outfit, messing with your hair, cleaning your room a little bit. You settled on a candid photo of you reading a book in some loose-fitting clothes. Your shirt was almost falling off your shoulders, and your shorts barely peeked out to show you were wearing any. You sent it to Sunghoon and waited anxiously for his response.
SH: Looks good.
You frowned at his response. You really look all the time just to get that kind of response from him... You tossed your phone away from you and went to the living room to find Jay and Sunghoon. Both were sitting on the couch, using their phones. But as soon as you walked in, Sunghoon tucked his phone.
"I'm gonna hit the bathroom really quick." He said as he brushed past you.
Jay didn't acknowledge it, but you sure did. Sunghoon was acting weird again.
"Jay, have you noticed anything about Sunghoon lately?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Same old Sunghoon."
You scoffed at your brother. "Since when have you been so uncaring?"
"And since when did you care so much?" Jay raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his phone.
"Never!" You turned and stormed off from Jay. Clearly, he wasn't going to be helpful, so you needed to get to the bottom of things yourself. As soon as you got into the hallway of the bathroom, you could see the light was on, but the door was barely open. The bathroom door got messed up when Jay closed the door too hard, making it difficult to keep the door shut. A small push could open it. But Sunghoon didn't know that. You moved forward to pull it closed, but then heard Sunghoon breathing heavily.
You leaned closer to the door to listen.
"...Jeez. You're so beautiful. Y/n, holy fuck." Sunghoon softly moaned.
You moved to peek through the crack. Sunghoon was jerking himself to something on his phone, moaning your name. You didn't realize you were holding your breath watching him. His hand stroked quickly, his hair bounced lightly, and his mouth hung open with his eyes squeezed shut. His thick arms pulsed, and his veins popped. His legs shook and shifted in pleasure. You inched closer to get a better look at Sunghoon's phone, but accidentally touched the door which creaked slightly and scared Sunghoon.
"Y–Y/N! I–" Sunghoon scrambled to cover himself but he dropped his phone while doing it. His phone landed face up, showing what he was masturbating to; the photo of yourself you'd sent earlier...
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk here..." You said as you turned around and shut the door.
There was shuffling, and then the door opened. Sunghoon's face was wracked with guilt. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I..." His voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.
You turned to him. "Be honest."
He gulped before opening his mouth to answer. "I–I'm really into you, y/n. I've been like this for a while... And, I get it if you're not interested in me."
You stepped forward and kissed his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded. "Come to my room tonight. Wait till Jay's asleep." You walked off toward your room without waiting for his response. You couldn't look him in the face after what you'd seen. All you could think about was his dick and the expression he was making, replaying again and again in your mind. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, and when Jay knocked on your door to check on you, you told Jay that you didn't want to hang out anymore.
Around midnight, the house had fallen asleep except for you. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you heard a soft knock at the door.
"Y/n? It's me." Sunghoon whispered through the door.
You opened the door and let Sung Hoon in. You sat down on your bed, and he sat down on the far end of it, awkwardly looking at you in the low light of the moon that dripped in from your window.
"I've already seen it, so you can't be awkward with me now." You stated, trying to start the conversation.
"I know... I just didn't want you to find out like that. It's embarrassing." He scratched his head. "You just looked so good in that picture. The moment I saw it, it was hard. And then I saw you in person. I needed to deal with it."
You shifted a little closer to him. "Well, you were sending those pictures first. I was just following your lead."
"I wasn't trying to be sexy in the pictures..."
"Well, you're bad at not being sexy. And, why would you send that shirtless one if you weren't making a pass at me."
Sunghoon's ears went pink. "Well–Maybe I was fishing a little. But I didn't think you'd send anything back to me."
"So it's my fault?"
He turned to you. "No! I didn't mean it like that. I meant–" Sunghoon couldn't finish his sentence as he watched you unbutton your shirt.
"What? Aren't you going to get undressed?"
Sunghoon looked away from you. "Wait, what's actually happening right now?"
You shyly started putting your shirt back on. "I thought you came so we could... have sex. Or something. That was dumb, I'm sorry–"
Sunghoon knelt down in front of you and stopped your hands. "No, it's not dumb. I liked it. I was just thrown for a second. We can do that if you want. But I want to take it off you if you'll let me."
You let your hands rest, Sunghoon slowly stripped off your shirt, touching you gently, caressing your skin, and breathing in your scent deeply as he did. Once your shirt was off, he tossed his aside roughly, revealing his muscular torso to you. You automatically looked away, but he sweetly pulled your chin to face him.
"You can touch me, y/n." He spoke with softness in his voice and looked up at you with warm eyes.
You placed a hand on his shoulder. It was stiff and strong. You traced his muscles down his arm until your hands met his and locked into his fingers.
"We'll go however far you want, y/n. Whatever you want, I'm all yours." He kissed your hand.
"Can you call me baby?"
He chuckled. "Baby."
Your heart fluttered at his deep voice calling out to you.
"Baby, can I touch you?"
You nod.
Sunghoon uses his other hand to wrap around your waist and lift you off the bed, moving you so he'd sit on the bed and you on his lap. "Is this okay?" He slightly leaned in for a kiss, pausing for your consent.
You nod again. Leaning in to meet him.
Sunghoon's hands traced your chest before landing on your hips. Your hands traveled up his waist and stopped at his neck as the two of you made out. Every time you moaned Sunghoon would pull you closer to him, squeezing you slightly. You could feel him slowly grinding into you, his hips lurching upward for just a moment of sensation. You arch your back, laying your ass down to meet him, earning a groan from him.
"Keep doing that, baby." He moaned into the kiss.
You pulled away from the kiss. "We can keep moving forward."
Sunghoon lets you climb off of him. The both of you face away from one another as you toss aside your pants and underwear, leaving you both naked.
You felt a little too exposed. "Actually, can I have my shirt back?
Sunghoon handed it to you, and you took it without looking back at him. You slipped it on but left it unbuttoned and open. Slowly, you turned around to let him see you.
"You look amazing with it on. Good call." He complimented.
You blushed at his compliment and lay on the bed. "Are you coming?"
Sunghoon crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over you. "Are you prepared, or do you need me to do it?"
You covered your face. "Don't ask embarrassing questions. Just check if it's enough for you."
Sunghoon smiled. "Will you lick my fingers?"
You moved your hands just enough to show your mouth and let it open. He delicately placed his fingers on your tongue and let you work them over, tossing and turning them. You got them so wet that they were dripping as he took them out.
"Jesus, that's hot." Sunghoon put them in his mouth.
"Hoon–" He then slipped two fingers into you, making you cover your mouth so you didn't slip out any loud noises.
Sunghoon pushed and pulled softly, searching around and bending his fingers. When he found your spot, he felt you suddenly squeeze his fingers. "There it is. Now, I know where to aim."
You were starting to drool with all the foreplay. Or maybe it was an overexcited thing. Either way, Sunghoon noticed and licked your cheek, drinking your spit.
"We're going to start now. Anything you need to do?" He asked one more time for your consent.
"I've been waiting for you to get to it..." You muttered.
"Oh, baby, are you getting impatient?" He teased me.
You didn't answer and Sunghoon lined himself with your hole before slowly sliding his length inside you. You held the sheets of the bed, trying to control your noises as he filled you. He was so big, and every vein and twitch felt like an explosion inside of you. You struggled to stay still while you got used to him.
"You can do it, baby."
You moaned. "Seven inches is more than I've had before..."
"Did you count my inches with your hole? How lewd." Sunghoon chuckled. "And, we're not done yet."
Your mouth twitched a smile. "Just put it all in then."
Sunghoon put his hands on either side of your hips and pulled up into him, putting the last two inches into you.
"Nine!?" You almost screamed.
"Maybe it's 9.5, but who's counting? Now, stay quiet, or Jay will wake up." He leaned down to you, sliding his hand under your head. "Bite me if you need to."
You thought you didn't need to until you felt his hips move, and then your mouth instantly fixed itself to Sunghoon's collar. He groaned as he started moving slowly but picked up the pace when you moaned. Your thighs were raised, and your legs were around his waist, shaking as Sunghoon pulled you into him to meet his thrusts. You could feel Sunghoon's muscles moving and tensing as he controlled your body. He leaned back to see his work on you and caught you staring at his chest. His pecs were so big and bounced with every thrust.
"Oh? Does Baby like my chest? Wanna touch it?"
You nodded breathlessly.
Sunghoon leaned back down for you to touch them comfortably.
You squeeze them, pinching on his nipples. You were mesmerized by them.
"Since you like them so much, I'll keep them nice and big for you, okay?" Sunghood cool to you.
"O–Okay." You moaned as you held his pecs in your hands, kneading them roughly. The sensations were so intense you didn't even notice you'd already finished once, cum painting your stomach.
Sunghoon's thrusts got sloppier, losing their rhythm as his moans got shakier.
"I'm almost there, baby, hold on a little longer." He growled, hitting a few more times before his cum spilled into you. Which makes you cum again, painting yourself with more ropes of white. Sunghoon rode out his high, thrusting a few more times before pulling out. Cum spilling out of you, onto the bed.
Your body shook and convulsed every few seconds from the rush. You were a sticky mess, and Sunghoon took care of everything. He went into the bathroom and got you hot towels to clean you. And then he carried you to your bathroom so you could do your business. While you took care of yourself on the toilet, Sunghoon changed the sheets and waited for you to come out of the bathroom with new pajamas ready.
Sunghoon tucked you under the covers. "Goodnight, baby, I'll see you in the morning." He got under the covers with you to cuddle you.
You grabbed his arm. "You're not leaving? What about Jay?"
Sunghoon laughed. "He knows. I talked to him. He should be at Jungwon's house right now doing the same as us."
"Why would you tell him–Jungwon!? They're a thing!?"
"Since forever. And Jay's known for ages that I've liked you. After I talked to him about what happened, he chewed me out for being a pervert and jerking off in the house, but he gave me his blessing. So we don't need to worry about him~"
The two of you cuddled together for the night. You drifted to sleep to the sound of Sunghoon's heartbeat, plotting about your next morning...
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