#like all it took for him to start beating the shit out of random people during his joker arc was the idea it might make him stronger

[gothamite-rambler]

Why Poison Ivy likes Dick Grayson out of the other Robins

Robin!Dick (chipper): Hi, Ivy!

Poison Ivy (wary, crossing her arms): Hey, kid. Wow, you really decided that babysitting and being a 'hero' was the best idea.

Ivy shot an annoyed glare at Batman, who remained stoically silent. Robin!Dick gazed at a giant rose flytrap, already inching closer to poke it.

Ivy (warningly): Stand away from the giant rose!

Robin!Dick stepped back, his eyes wide with fascination.

Robin!Dick: Can I—

Batman (pointing firmly to another part of the botanical area): I will take you home.

Robin!Dick pouted, shoulders slumping as he walked away, mumbling.

Ivy (smirking): He’s adorable. If I didn’t hate people, I’d keep him. Okay, let’s start. You want me to stop my mission to protect Mother Earth, and you think that's wrong. Please, continue being wrong.

Ivy gracefully took a seat on her flower chair, crossing her legs with a smug smile.

Batman (sternly): I shouldn’t have to explain how your mission to save the Earth doesn’t benefit people. It’s destructive.

Ivy (raising an eyebrow): Why? Because some people might die? A few dead bodies are worth it to save the planet.

Robin!Dick (mid-stop from touching a different dangerous plant): What?! You’re killing people to do this?

Ivy (matter-of-factly): Yes… A few dead bodies are worth—why does his face look sad?

Robin!Dick (trying not to cry, voice wavering): That’s so mean.

Batman (glaring at Ivy): You’ve upset him. Shame on you.

Ivy (indignant, standing tall): Last I checked, the Earth is dying, and I’m just being honest with the kid! If you actually used critical thinking, you’d realize I’m not destroying the Earth—big corporations are! They’re pumping out microplastics, pouring random crap into lakes—Bliss… JUST BLISS—are destroying the freaking planet! They’re screwing her like she’s a two-dollar hooker! I stopped eating chocolate bars from Bliss's company after the founder said water shouldn’t be given to everybody!

Robin!Dick (astonished, eyes wide): Did he actually say that?

Ivy (explaining passionately): He implied water shouldn’t have free access to the public because Bliss is the biggest proprietor of bottled water. That’s unforgivable! So whatever you’re about to say, Batman, I don’t want to hear it! They’re destroying ecosystems, hunting endangered species, killing crops—

Robin!Dick (interrupting, stepping closer): Hold up, that’s all she’s trying to fix?

Robin!Dick glanced at Batman expectantly, waiting for his response.

Batman (turning to Robin, tone serious): She’s not doing it in a logical way.

Robin!Dick (defiantly): She’s a green woman who can control plants! Does she look like she wants to use our logic? No offense, Ivy.

Ivy (grinning): You’re fine. I love my body.

Robin!Dick (glancing between them, confused): She can talk to plants, too! She must feel pain when they feel pain. Are you just going to ignore that?

Batman (frustrated): I never said I was.

Ivy (smirking): Sure feels like it every time we talk.

Robin!Dick (enthusiastically): Why don’t we help her, Batman? Has she asked for your help?

Batman (sheepish, avoiding eye contact): Um… it’s been brought up in the past.

Robin!Dick (jumping up and down, angry): Then why haven’t you helped her?

Ivy (pleasantly surprised): Yeah, Batman, that’s so mean.

Batman (defending his stance): She's a criminal and will let people die for the cause.

Robin!Dick (shrugging): Well, if it's that Bliss guy, I don’t… I don’t necessarily blame her if he dies.

Ivy (smiling): Huh... thank you.

Robin!Dick (sincere): You’re welcome.

Batman (frustrated): All right, you’re young, so you don’t understand this is a complex situation.

Robin!Dick (bringing up a correct point): Yeah, so is being a vigilante over a cop, but that’s what you do! I’ve seen you beat the ever-loving shit out of a lot of bad guys committing actual crimes.

Batman (scolding): Language.

Robin!Dick: The context needed the word! I love you, Batman, I do, but let’s be real—you steal police information and beat up thugs. You haven’t paid the Commissioner back for the fire hydrant incident. You break a lot of laws! You say you’re doing it to save lives; so is she! Most are plant lives, but I get it. We’d be arrested too, but we’re lucky; she’s not… it’s not right.

Ivy (sincere, smiling warmly): Thanks again, kid.

Robin!Dick (sweetly): You’re welcome again.

Batman (confused at how he's being criticized): What the… what the heck is happening?

Robin!Dick (swaying back and forth): I'm just saying, in any other city, we’d be going to prison. Well, you would be; I’d be tossed into an orphanage, and that… that’s not fun.

Ivy (nodding): A lot of kids in the system have been abused. He’s got a point.

Batman (annoyed, running a hand through his hair): Why are you arguing with me, Robin?

Robin!Dick (leaning in, determined): Because dang it, she might have a point! We can help her to a degree… In fact, isn’t the building we’re in the one being sued for what they did to a lake? All those ducks died.

Ivy (adding, voice low): Nothing can grow there for decades.

Robin!Dick: Yeah, the ecosystem is destroyed there.

Ivy (pridefully): That’s why I picked this building to invade first. It’s not being used for anything productive. I’m thinking of making it a plant sanctuary.

Robin!Dick (looking around, nodding enthusiastically): Yeah… yeah… that sounds like a good idea.

Ivy (smirking at Batman): You must’ve gotten this level of kindness and understanding from someone else. I like you. Batman, keep him around; he's adorable and smart.

Robin!Dick (cupping his cheeks, blushing): Aww, thank you.

Batman (raising his voice, annoyed): Stop trying to turn him to the dark side! And why are you ganging up on me?

Robin and Ivy (in unison): Because you know it’s wrong and are being stubborn!

Batman (sighing, rubbing his temples): Okay, she’s not my child, but you are. Don’t yell at me.

Robin!Dick (serious): Hm… okay, I'm sorry, but you told me you became Batman because the system is flawed and sometimes matters need to be taken into your hands? Where the law and our governments can’t fix the issue, it takes a civilian to step in and make things right. How is she different?

Ivy (smirking, folding her arms): Yeah, yeah, how am I different? Is it because I’m green? Racist!

Batman (exasperated): That doesn’t make any sense; you’re white!

Robin!Dick (pointing his index finger for emphasis): She’s green now.

Ivy (leaning forward, playful): Robin, was it? Here, take a rose.

Ivy used her powers to hand the young hero a rose.

Robin (smiling widely and taking the rose): Aww, thank you.

Batman groaned, then picked up Robin like a bag and started walking away. Robin giggled as he was being carried.

Batman (growling): Give me a minute; I have to talk to him in private!

Ivy (calling out, amused): Go easy on him, and let that kid be a free thinker. He's smart; he knows what he’s talking about.

Robin!Dick (waving): Thank you, Ivy.

Ten minutes after the two argued, Batman came to a compromise with his son and Ivy. He understood that Dick would absolutely not mind sabotaging factories or causing a fire with a supervillain to protect the planet. All he needed was a good reason.

Batman (driving them home in the Batmobile, voice calm): Could you not defend the actions of the bad guy in front of me next time?

Robin!Dick (munching on McDonald's fries): Don’t take me to one who has a point, and you can’t be mad at me. I did a good thing.

Batman (with a resigned sigh): I hate that you’re technically right. Give me a fry at least.

Robin!Dick passed his father a French fry while finishing off the ones he already had, an infectious smile plastered across his face.

Inspired by this post

[orangeheliophile]

Don't date loud blondes!!

You're not allowed to date until you're in your late 30s. Shouta had made this decision a while ago when you had your first crush on a boy, Bakugou Katsuki.

It was safe to say that the poor man was mortified when he found out. You were happier than usual, and you had this pink tint on your chubby cheeks when you hugged your teddy bear close to you.

Shouta felt his heart drop when you sighed the boy's name while doodling random hearts on a piece of paper. No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. There was no way his precious little sunshine had a fascination with that Bakugou kid. He wouldn't allow it!!

It's not that he hated the blonde brat. He just wanted the kid to stay fifty meters away from you! That kid was already blonde and loud. He'd be damned if you ended up with someone like that.

But alas, if it's one thing that Shouta hated, it was seeing you sad. So he reluctantly took you to the park to go play with the damn brat. He always sat on a bench underneath a nice maple tree, whilst he could keep an eye on you as you had fun on the playground.

As long as the boy didn't try to make you leave the playground and made sure you were safe, Shouta allowed the young blonde to hang out with you. Even if he hated every second of it.

He supposed it was worth it to see you smile and look so happy being with Katsuki. You would hold his hand and ramble to him about whatever was on your mind. The things you did with him. Your father.

But Shouta could only swallow his irritation and-wait, what the shit!? What the fuck do you mean your father isn't your favorite anymore??

No. No, no, no, no, NO!

Shouta could tolerate many, many kinds of things. But him not being your favorite person anymore? Him not being the one you run to whenever you see something that made you happy? Him not being the one to comfort you first when you cried? Him no longer being the person you tell everything to??

No. Absolutely, fucking not.

You weren't allowed to fall in love with that boy. You weren't supposed to fall in love with anybody in that matter. You were his little girl, for fucks sake! He wasn't going to let your heart get broken at such a young age!!

Was this petty and unreasonable? Probably, yes. But did Shouta care? No.

You were his baby girl. The sweetest little thing he has ever met and the light of his life. So why the fuck do you think he was going to give you up so easily?

And so, it began. Katsuki gave you wildflowers from your playdate? Shouta gave you a whole bouquet of your favorite flowers. Katsuki carried you in his arms to prove his strength? Shouta made you sit on his back while he did three finger push-ups.

Katsuki started to get frustrated, of course. There was no way he was going to let some old man beat him! Even if it was your father! So the little blonde started acting more affection with you. He started to write down all of the things you liked and whatever you found interesting.

And so, almost every time they saw each other, harsh glares were thrown as well as snarky remarks. Katsuki would stick his tongue out and curse while your father would just glare holes into the boy's head. It was an endless fued between your father and your childhood crush best friend.

This wouldn't stop even after you and Katsuki got accepted into UA. Shouta would make him do extra work every time Katsuki tried to make a move on you.

You didn't mind this at all, in fact. You got princess treatment and endless love and gifts from the two people who cared the most about you in the whole wide world. So you didn't care if they tried to outdo one another.

Uncle Mic, was your favorite anyway.

[shigayokagayama]

if ritsu was in mogamiland he would just start killing people immediately i think

[sematarygirls]

🍼 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe thinks academic!reader wants a baby

   Rafe was absolutely certain that you were trying to subtly hint at wanting to have a baby with him. At the first comment, he assumed you were ovulating because you always did get a little bit of baby fever when you were, but then, you just kept showering him with random facts about the development of infants and toddlers to the point that he started to believe you were dropping hints.

Rafe wasn't someone who liked to play games. He preferred to be told things straight up, no beating around the bush, but being with you, he'd noticed that you had a habit of trying to subtly slide what you wanted into conversation, so you didn't have to directly ask. Almost like you were trying to make him think it was his idea, not yours—apparently, those psychology classes were really paying off.

It had gotten to the point where he had confided in Topper and Kelce, asking them if that's how it sounded to them—bad idea, Topper and Kelce are the last people to go to for relationship advice—to which they both agreed that it definitely sounded as though you were trying to suggest Rafe should get you pregnant.

The idea was completely out of the blue. You both were still so young, and you were still in school trying to get your degree in psychology. You two had only been dating for a couple of months and had never discussed marriage or engagement because it all felt so new to both of you. After all, Rafe was still reforming from his playboy ways and party lifestyle, and you hadn't been in many relationships prior to being with him.

He had originally decided to try his best to ignore your little comments, hoping you would eventually drop the subject altogether. Rafe had never really thought about kids, and he definitely didn't think he was dad material, his fear of turning out like his own father overshadowing the desire deep down to have a child—one he often pushed aside and tried to ignore.

But, you hadn't given up. If anything, it seemed like your mentions of children became more and more frequent—whether that was true or he just believed it was because he was hard-core stressing about it remained unclear. Eventually, Rafe decided he had to address it and make sure you knew that he wasn't planning on having kids with you antime soon, even if it seemed a little harsh to say considering how enthusiastic you seemed.

"Did you know after about a year, the pace at which children learn words accelerates rapidly, and by eighteen months, the average child is learning a new word every day?" You tore your gaze away from your phone screen to look over at him, a bright, proud smile on your face. You were sat in the passenger seat of his truck after he picked you up from your classes, intending to bring you back to Tannyhill, so you two could hang out.

"Okay, you've really gotta cut that shit out," Rafe said, a lot harsher than he intended to. He had already had a bad day, and he just wanted to relax with his girlfriend, not try to decode you and your baby talk. He was tired of dancing around the issue, and his stress only brought that out, making him snap at you.

Your brows furrowed, smile faltering at his words. He had never spoken to you like that before, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why a little fact of all things had elicited such a reaction. He usually loved hearing all about your little facts, constantly telling you how sexy your intellect was to him. "What?" You simply asked, too hurt and confused to vocalize why his outburst seemed so completely out of the blue.

"Listen I," he took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening for a moment before he relaxed again. "I don't want to have a baby with you," he said bluntly. Noticing how cruel that may have sounded, he decided to add an: "Atleast... not right now, alright?"

Your face was a mask of pure confusion. You weren't so much hurt anymore as utterly lost. Where did the topic of you two having children come from? "Rafe, what are you talking about?" You asked, not understanding where he could have possibly got the idea that you wanted to have a baby with him.

He glanced over at you, his own features morphing into an expression that mirrored yours. "All the baby facts and shit. I thought," he paused, wondering if he had read the situation all wrong, but that didn't make sense. It had been pretty fucking apparent to him, Topper, and Kelce that you were dropping baby hints. "I thought you were... yknow trying to tell me something."

You processed the new information for a moment before bursting into laughter to which Rafe glanced rapidly between you and the road, his brows only furrowing farther as he watched you laugh as if he'd said the most hilarious thing conceivable. "Oh, baby," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder when your fit of hysterics finally died down. "No, I definitely was not hinting at anything. I am so swamped with school and work that I barely have time for you, let alone a child."

"What?" Rafe asked, relief flooding through him at your confirmation that you weren't trying to subconsciously trick him into wanting a baby with you through your little psychology tricks. Simultaneously, he felt extremely dumbfounded as to your motivations. "Then why have you been talking about kids so much recently?" He quirked an eyebrow, pulling into the driveway of his family's estate.

"Because we're covering the development and learning unit in my psych course, which obviously focuses a lot on the earlier stages of life aka infancy and childhood," you explained, watching realization dawn on him like a light bulb turning on in a dark, empty room. "I didn't think I had to spell that out for you since i'm always hitting you with random facts from class."

Rafe parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "Okay, so just to be crystal clear, you weren't trying to use fuckin'...i dont know- subliminal messaging and weird psychobabble voodoo to like, make me want to get you pregnant?"

You laughed, unbuckling your own seatbelt, so you could face him too. "No, you idiot. You're so ridiculous," you grinned, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. "I promise you I don't want children right now, and if that ever changes, I will talk to you about it and not use subliminal messaging or weird psychobabble voodo."

"Okay, good," he nodded, opening his car door. "Topper and Kelce swore that you were trying to play some kind of mind game."

"Why would you listen to Topper and Kelce of all people?" You asked, following suit in getting out of the car, your brows furrowing as he mentioned the two people who have yet to hold a stable, healthy relationship for any period of time. "They're the world's biggest idiots."

"Yeah, you're right," he grinned, walking over to you and slinging his arm around your shoulder as you two walked to the front door. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he murmured. pressing a kiss to your temple.

"It's okay," you reassured him, sliding your hand onto his back and rubbing soft, soothing circles. "Just promise you'll talk to me next time instead of letting it build up and fester until you get to the point where you feel like snapping."

"I promise," he vowed, ushering you into the house. "Now let me show you—my beautiful, intelligent, and amazing girlfriend—how sorry I really am," he gave your ass a little tap, making his intentions clear as he steered you toward the staircase, your giggles echoing through the empty house.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

[squiddy-god]

Hello!! I just read your twst x chubby S/O and I thought it was amazing! Could I request Third Years x S/O who's into crocheting and crochets them plushies or keychains as random gifts? Plus a bonus when they admit that after they graduation Night raven they want to start a small business on it after hiding it if you want >w<

Hehehehe i love this so much because i crochet! It is one of my many house husband skills, personally my favorite things to make is these little octopuses but i should really branch out lol, this reminds me of those manhwas where the mc starts a business that booms 

Cw : tooth rotting fluff, mc has a successful side hustle to make that bag, gn reader, bonus grim because i love my cat so much, my son, grims is obvi platonic, rsa mention because vil is petty

Grim 

Oh hes bragging 

His human henchman is the best because they make him cute gifts 

The skrungly

I wanna make him little kitty outfits for every occasion

Making grim cat toys and he acts like he doesn't like them at first but he literally wont sleep without the crochet tuna fish you made him 

I think he needs a little kitty bag to wear and put his stuff in (mostly tuna) 

He would taunt the others because clearly he is the most special kitty with his very cool bad and fish 

He is and i won't stand for anyone telling me otherwise, i love our bastard cat son

Cater 

Hes obsessed 

If you make him a keychain then he is adding it to his growing collection on his phone right away

I hc that hes a big fan of stuffed animals so he adores anny that you make him and they sit on his bed 

He names all of them

He helps you start the small business during school actually! At first its his suggestion to run a magicam page for all your creations 

Soon the comments are flooded with people asking if you sell, one thing leads to another and boom you now have a successful side hustle 

Rsa is honestly a big seller they love this kind of stuff

He loves everything you make him and never stops posting about his love for it

Very supportive of your small business ventures 

His favorite thing you've made him is a little bag for pens and pencils that is shaped like a playing card because he thinks its just the cutest thing in the world 

And the keychains that he gets to show off whenever he whips his phone out (often)

Some of his favorite candid photos of you are when you’re crocheting peacefully 

Trey 

Dometic bliss pt.1

Trey is,,,such an old man- he like baking and the simple domestic little things like making you coffee/tea in the morning 

He loves to watch you crochet because he thinks its very cute and wholesome to spend time when you are doing activities together that are calm 

MAKE THIS MAN DOILIES AND POT HOLDERS please 

He adores the set of frilly doilies you made him and the cute potholders are always in use

He is 100% in support of your dreams of making that bag, honestly he really thinks you should get a start now to make extra cash on the side since 7 forbid crowley pay you for the work you do

He smiles every time he sees a tart cooling on one of the doilies you made him, seeing the little pattern always makes him happy

He trades you baked good for the things you make him so i hope you enjoy sweet treats

Leona 

Cat…big kitty…

Oddly captivated by any balls or skeins of yarn that are out and about but hes fighting the urge to play with them 

He is not beating the house cat allegations 

At first hes pretty neutral on it honestly, he likes the gifts you give him because they are just his but hes not a big keychain guy, or stuffies

Then you make him a blanket and hes gone 

He claims to be neutral about it, saying he likes the gift but dont be fooled by his aloof act he sleeps with that blanket everywhere 

He is bringing it to class if he doesn't just skip the class 

It is his favorite blanket and he almost lost his shit when ruggie took it to wash it- he's kinda territorial about the blanket 

Gives 0 fucks that its some cutesy blanket with little lions on it

Also a big fan of pillows/pillow covers 

If you make him multiple blankets he loves them too but the first one is extra special to him 

Hes neutral about you starting a business during or after school/graduation because well,,,he's a whole prince,,,

You make cheka a matching blanket and leona gets a very happy letter from his brother on how much the mini lion loves it, leona rolls his eyes but is secretly very proud of you 

Regardless if you want to start the small business he is happy to support you making that bread 

Vil 

Vil in crochet clothes my beloved 

Hes charmed by your little hobby and the adorable stuffed animal you made him, a little crochet owl that sits on his vanity so he sees it when he does his makeup and night routine 

Vil does not post a lot of personal stuff on his magicam/socials, but he does wear anything you make him, he has a folder in his gallery dedicated to photos of the two of you, dates or candid photos either he took or rook took and sent to him. 

Most of these pics he's in something you crochet for him even if it's just a simple keychain it's a staple of his 

He is very supportive of your dreams of starting a business for your crochet, he admires the drive and discipline and encourages you to pursue this work 

Ironically if you start a side hustle soon to be full business, neige of all people is a big customer as he's fond of cute stuff like this 

This is where vil gets petty 

He sees a photo post of neige’s where he’s in a new outfit, not odd at all, what catches vils attention is that the cardigan and hat he's wearing is oddly similar to a piece he saw you working on for an order- anyone watching can see the twitch in vil’s eye when he sees the shoutout to you in the caption

The next 5-8 posts of vil’s are a mix of his regular posts and pictures of him in your clothes or with the keychains, all with captions along the lines of “my beautiful s/o @[your name here]”

He even posts the owl

Rook 

If you were to make him a keychain he calls it his lucky charm for hunting and always had it on him. 

Really he's just fond of anything you make him

a lot of his photos are of you when you are deep in a project and not paying attending, candid photos like this are his favorites and he looks at them often 

He really likes any little animal stuffies you make because he thinks they are just the cutest 

“Hunts” your plushies aka he will sneak up on you making them or sorting them out and act like he caught them 

Silly

He is very supportive of your business ventures, he loves to see you so passionate about wanting to eventually start a small business and be able to sell your creations 

He definitely encourages you to sell a few things in sams shop, afterall he sells anything and everything anyone could ever need

Idia 

The outfits you make grim are his faves 

He is a cat man at heart and cant help but coo over every new thing you make grim because it makes the kitty so so so cute and as a cat he was already uber SS+ cute levels 

He is also a big fan of any keychains you make him or even stuffies

The stuffies either are on his bed so he can cuddle them or they are with the rest of his game/anime figures on his shelves so its a horrific mix of like neon genesis mechs and crochet 

I think it would be funny to make him doilies to put the figures on because when hes gaming and people are like “dude why is your [super cool limited edition game figure] on a doily???” hes like “haha L+loser+lonely+my super cool s/o made them for me lvl10 affection” and is it cringe as hell? Yes. can those normies suck it because hes no longer forever alone? Also yes

They are demanding proof or it didn't happen 

Ortho is also a big fan and has a lil keychain you made hooked on him <3

idia would actually combust if you made anything themed after a game or show he watches/plays because that is SS+ max lvl affection with full hearts right there 

You have unlocked the super secret route and that is unlimited discord nitro and a new pc because he is so happy 

He also would support your business during and after school 

Malleus 

Domestic bliss pt 2

Genuinely you are breaking this guy. Like he cannot take it anymore 

I feel we all can agree malleus is prone to casual proposals because hes just,,,kinda like that

He pictures a future with you by his side and you aren't making it any better by being so endearing 

When he sees you doing something as simple as sitting down and crocheting his draconic heart is filled with sweet domestic love, makes him feel like an old married couple and he can't take it lmao 

At first he's a bit weird about accepting gifts as it's a big deal in fae culture to just,,,get a gift out of nowhere

But he does accept them, he simply gives you something he sees as equal value (this is how you end up with several big ass gems)

He considers all of your gifts his most precious items, his favorites however are the following 4 gifts he has received 

A keychain that looks like his gaogao-drakon-kun tamagotchi witch he keeps on the same keychain as said virtual pet

A gargoyle plushy that he considers to be one of his most treasured gifts, in a similar light he has a plushie of your fave animal and you have a dragon plushie that match (this almost killed him)

And a little crochet bracelet that you match (he never takes it off unless he has to) 

Your desire to start a business throws him for a loop at first because in his mind you are happily by his side in the briar valley, (he is very male lead coded) but he quickly re-adjusts to account for your business plans and he is the most supportive dragon you could ever hope for 

Lilia 

Old man (affectionate) 

 I like to think lilia knits and is simply overjoyed when he finds out you crochet 

You exchange little gifts 

It makes his very old fae heart happy to sit around the ramshackle fireplace and crochet/knit with you while chatting about your day/week, simple things like this make him feel like hes back in the old days with a baby silver 

He loves anything you make him and happily wears any keychains or items he is gifted

Stuffies are named and placed around his room without a hint of shame 

And he loves that you have such good goals and dreams like a business 

I like the idea of meeting general lilia and also making him something 

At first he is confused, almost indignant that you would have the gaul to give him a gift- of all people he would never accept such a token

Maybe its something simple, a granny square on the lacy side that resembles something akin to a handkerchief, something small you explain as a favor, something youd give a knight 

He claims he is disgusted by such human customs but his grip on the crochet piece is unmistakable, and the way you wake up the next morning to a small green gem-the same that adorns his armor, tells you all you need to

[ghostssweetgirl]

hii again <3

this request is a litttlleee bit darker than usual but here we go

how would 141 react when someone slips something in readers drink at a bar?? like would ghost immediately stand up and beat the mf up?? 🥹

hi! omg they would all stand up and immediately beat some ass frfr & i LOVE dark stuff, dw :) <3 i'm not that good at writing action scenes but i hope this is goooood bc i do love the idea that they would fight for u

TF141 and How They'd React to Someone Slipping Something Into Your Drink

cw: alcohol intake, mentions of drugs, violence & blood

Captain John Price

He took the team out for drinks, sitting around the bar top. Everyone was having their own conversation, and it made his heart happy to see his people laughing with smiling faces.

While he was in a corner seat, he was making sure to keep an eye out on his team, as a good captain should.

You turned around for a minute, distracted. Soon as you weren't looking, some creep had sprinkled a powdered form of a drug into your drink, causing it to fizzle.

Of course, you didn't notice as you were watching a group of people playfully argue over their pool game.

You jumped back around when all of a sudden your captain's hands were at this guy's throat.

"You really thought you'd get away with that?" Price growled.

"Mind your fuckin' business, will you?" the creep retorted.

You made eye contact with Price, confused as to what was happening. "What the fuck," you whispered.

"Take it outside," the bartender said.

"Gladly, sir," Price chuckled darkly, dragging the guy by his shirt.

A few moments later, Price returned, kindly smiling at you. You could see the adrenaline pumping through his veins at his reddened face.

"Let's order you a new drink, yeah? Fucker ruined this one."

John 'Soap' MacTavish

You took a few sips out of your first drink, setting it down.

You smiled around at your comrades, happy to be there. A random chick walked up to you, asking you what you recommended her to order as she was new here and she just turned of age to start drinking.

You were busy chatting away, getting to know her, not noticing the random arm swooping around you, drugging your beverage.

Soap sitting next to you, picked up your drink and swiftly got up without a word.

"You okay, Soap?" you turned to him. You recognized the look in his eyes - anger. "M-my drink! What are you doing with it?"

He cornered the guy, not saying a word. His chest rose and fell heavily as he tilted his head, throwing the drink in the man's face before punching the shit out of him. He tried to fight back, missing his swing as Soap got him on the ground.

The bartender held his hands up, trying to politely ask them to take it outside but Soap was too quick in his actions.

Blood quickly splattered across the concrete floor, as well as across Soap's face and uniform.

"Get the fuck outta here," Soap demanded him, towering above him as he cowardly rose off the ground, basically tucking his tail as he ran out of the bar door. Soap looked at the bartender and back at the blood. "I'll clean it up."

He returned to his seat shortly after, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Let's get you a fresh drink, lass."

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

You were laughing at one of Price's jokes with your drink in hand. As you laughed, your hand went outwards, giving perfect access for some weirdo to walk up and put a drug in it.

Gaz watched the interaction silently, taking your drink away from you while you wouldn't notice it.

In your drunkenness, you ordered a new drink, and it was quickly given to you but as you turned around, Gaz was gone. You looked around the building, and to your surprise he was face to face with someone, having a silent, heated conversation with someone.

The guy held his hands up in defense, seeming to try to explain himself.

Gaz looked at you, seeing your worried face. The creep met your gaze and he winked at you, his lips were moving but you couldn't tell what he said.

When suddenly, Gaz smiled. You couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or the type of smile you give someone when you're really about to give it to them.

It was the latter. Gaz hiked his knee up, bringing the man's face down to connect with it sharply. Blood painted a small patch into Gaz's pants and blood leaked down the man's face. Clearly disoriented, he tried to fight back but Gaz landed one last blow before the man held his head down, regaining his balance, shortly leaving afterwards.

The bartender sighed, walking over with cleaning supplies and Gaz helped him out.

"What... was that about, Garrick?" you whispered.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Enjoy your 'good' drink," he rolled his eyes, and from that you could tell what had happened, happy to have been around your teammates when this happened.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

You had finished quite a handful of drinks, making sure this was your last one.

You took a few first sips before setting it down, joining the conversation with your teammates.

Ghost, as usual, was quiet. Nodding along and joining the conversation when needed. He had been keeping his eyes peeled for something to happen.

Price complimented you and Ghost's teamwork, which you happily thanked him and smiled at Ghost who nodded at you, but his eyes weren't on you. They were focused at the left side of you.

You felt a presence, and before you could turn around it was gone. Looking back around, Ghost was gone, too. Damn, that was quick.

Trying to shrug it off, you go to grab your drink but couldn't find it. Now, what the fuck?

You look around confused, seeing your teammates eyeing the corner, so you follow their gaze.

Seeing Ghost, towering over someone, hand on his knife. Your eyes widened, hoping he didn't have to use it. He held your missing cup up to the man's face as if he was interrogating him. He was.

The man was near crying, lips stammering as he tried to explain himself, but Ghost wasn't having it. Ghost must have said something to set the guy off because he thought it would be a good idea to try and push past Ghost. The glass shattered from Ghost's grip. His body tensed up before one large hand clasped around the creep's throat, lifting him up the wall. He gasped for air until his face scrunched in pain as Ghost's fist met it with a violent punch. Then another. And another.

The bartender seemed annoyed, but Ghost couldn't give a shit. He let go of the now-unconscious man, letting his body fall to the ground.

Ghost sighed as he sat back down, nodding at you. You awkwardly smiled, putting two and two together on what happened.

"Thanks, Ghost..." you said.

"Want a fresh drink, luv? Sorry 'bout your last one," he asked.

"After that, yeah..."

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 20- Roommate!Miguel x Reader

*Requested by Reader ;) *

        It was your third year of college and you had decided to get one of the dorm houses right next to the college. Finally! No more small apartment in a large dorm hall; no more random fire alarms because someone didn't know how long to cook popcorn; no more being locked out of your dorm room because you were in a shared bathroom; and finally, no more loud and obnoxious roommates. Having this house meant that you picked your roommate. You had your freedom.

        What better than a roommate who is going to have their heads stuck in the books or at the library? You interviewed so many people, but only one caught your attention as the perfect roommate. 

Miguel O'Hara

         The man was not only eye candy, but one of the smartest students on campus. Correction, he was the smartest student. You were surprised when he was in the hunt for a roommate. The two of you got along and you decided to go with him. All you ever heard about him was either girls wanting to fuck him, or that he was a hardass who kept his head in the books. A perfect roommate.

         Things were going smoothly for the first few months. You barely saw him due to your conflicting schedules, but he kept his part of the house clean. There was never any loud noise from his room, nor was there any reason to complain. The only little issue you were having was that he was too fucking sexy.

        Lord did the impure thoughts start when you saw him exit the shower one day. You swore drool was coming out of your mouth as you stared at him. You would have never thought that Miguel was so fit. No wonder why all the girls on campus wanted to date him. The man had a body of a god!

"Perhaps I should charge a fee," Miguel said, waking you from your trance. Your face was flustered,

"Sorry! I was just surprised!" You admitted, hiding your embarrassment. 

"Surprised it took you long enough to know why I like to hide here instead of the library?" You could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face, "Midterms are coming up. Let me know if you need help...studying."

        Oh man, you were embarrassed. Since then, Miguel had gotten a little more snarky with you. In a playful manner. Honestly, it felt like he was pulling st your heart strings. The man was smart, hot and a menace to your thoughts. You were ashamed to say that you had thought about your roommate a lot at night as you played with yourself.

        You weren't the only one. Miguel was pumping his dick in his hand every night to the thought of you under him. You were pretty dangerous to be around. Walking around in your underwear and a shirt; laying on the couch; hell, Miguel was even aroused by you cooking dinner. In his eyes, you were already his. He just hadn't sealed the deal yet.

"Argh, I hate men!" You cried out, planting your face onto the couch. Miguel was sitting on the side chair,

"Including me?" He asked, not straying away from his essay. You huffed, face him,

"No..."

"Good, now who do I have to beat up for annoying my precious roommate?"

"Hahaaa, just one of my classmates. We were doing a project and he had the gall to tell me I had no idea what I'm doing. I fucking major in the subject!"

       As you were venting, Miguel was staring at you. He found it cute how red your cheeks got when you were angry. How tight your clothes were against your body. Miguel wanted to see you strip. To get lazy and comfy. It was something only for his eyes to see. He moved his laptop over his bulge, wanting to hide the fact that he was getting turned on from just staring at you.

"And then he had the absolute nerve after all that to ask me out! Like, why would I want to date a rude snob like him?! After I said hell no, he called me a bitch and went to shit talk me to his friends!" You whimpered, tears threatening to spill. 

        Miguel immediately went to your aid. He brought you a box of tissues, sitting beside you now. You rested your head against his shoulder, trying your best to not cry.

"I can beat him up for you, amor. (love). You can do so much better."

"Haha, thanks Miguel."

---------------

          After that, you went back to your hard studies since Finals were around the corner. That boy who had bothered you prior stopped bothering you completely. In fact, he avoided you. It was strange, but you were happy about it. All you needed was to pass your classes. Miguel helped you study for midterms, perhaps he was willing to help you again for finals?

        You were sitting in your shared living room, waiting for Miguel's class to get out. You were getting frustrated from trying to figure out stuff from another class. Glancing at the time, you inhaled deeply. There was still plenty of time before Miguel came home, you could use a little destress. Laying against the couch, you spread your legs and began to rub your clit was massaging you breast.

"Mhm, Miguel," You closed your eyes, imaging that it was Miguel toying with your body.

        Raising your hips, you started to feverishly rub your clit. Whines coming out as you desperately wanted Miguel to touch you. You lowered your fingers to your aching hole, doing your best to finger yourself.

"Miguel!" You whined.

"Fuck," Miguel groaned as he walked through the door. You gasped loudly, fixing yourself, 

"M-Miguel!? Y-Your c-class-?!" You panicked. Miguel hurried to your side,

"Don't you fucking stop now." He groaned, his hands making haste into your shorts, "Fuck, hearing your moans when I walk in. Cómo puedo contenerme? (How can I hold myself back?)"

       You gasped as Miguel had you pinned to the couch. His hands quickly replaced yours and he entered two digits into your wet cunt. You moaned, arching your back into the couch as he pumped his fingers roughly. Your pussy clentching down against his hand whike your hips moved against his palm. His fingers were so thick, bigger than some of your toys. He was already stretching you out.

"Hah, ah, M-Miguel..." You whimpered a moan as he curled his fingers. Miguel licked his lips,

"Qué hermoso. Tu cuerpo se está desmoronando por mi culpa. (How beautiful. Your body just falling apart because of me.)" You trembled as you reached your first orgasm, "What a naughty roommate. Teasing me so much."

        You panted heavily, never experience an orgasm like that before. You followed Miguel's gaze, watching him undo his pants as he licked his fingers. His pupils almost looked blown once he had a taste of you. It made you wetter. Finally, all of those wet dreams you've had of fucking your roommate was about to come true. Miguel cussed lowly as his belt got in the way.

"I never seen you this stressed," You teased, helping him undo his pants, "How long have you been wanting this?"

"Why do you think I became your roommate?" Miguel watched your reaction towards his large dick, "You?"

"Before midterms,"

        You stroked his dick with both hands. His low rumbling groans were turning you on more. You brought your lips to his tip, licking the precum that had started to drip. You winced at the salty taste but continued to suck him. Miguel's hand rested on your head as you bobbed your head against him. It was difficult and you could not take him fully, but Miguel seemed to enjoy it. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes as Miguel forced your head lower.

        Muffling against his dick, Miguel stopped, allowing you to breathe. You crawled over his lap, positioning his dick over your soaked hole. Miguel held your hips and placed you on your back before entering. The two of you moaned in unison. Miguel held your legs up as he stretched you out. Miguel was destroying your pussy and he hadn't even moved yet. You gripped the couch's blanket, raising your hips as he kept pushing himself inside.

"Looks like you need help with your finals," Miguel groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick as he finally fit his whole length, "Let me start by teaching this naughty pussy a lesson."

"Mhm, p-please," You begged. Miguel pulled back then slapped his length into you with force, "Ah~!" You cried out.

"Qué compañera de cuarto más cachonda. ¿A punto de romperse después de un solo empujón de mi polla? Tu coño fue hecho solo para mí. Mira lo mojada que estás, sólo para mí. (What a slutty roommate. About to break after just one thrust of my dick? Your pussy was made just for me. Look at how wet you are, just for me.)"

"M-Miguel!" 

        You gasped for air as he fucked your brains out. Each thrust was bringing your orgasm closer and closer. Miguel grabbed your breasts, playing with them as he sucked on your collarbone. His dick pounding you relentlessly. He had his body pinned against you like an animal in heat, refusing to let you go. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear as you reached another orgasm. Miguel shivered in delight and decided to reward you. He slammed his cock a few more times, filling your womb with his cum.

"Looks like you're going to need a lot more lessons, cariño (sweetheart). But don't worry, I won't charge my dear roommate."

"Y-You better not." You huffed. Miguel smirked as he gave you another slap of his dick, "W-Wait~ Mhm, d-don't...d-do that." Your whines turned into moans as Miguel kept abusing your poor cunt.

"After waiting this long, you really don't think I'm not going to fuck you dumb? Gotta make sure I keep tutoring you."

"Hah, hah, y-yes," You replied, throwing your head back in pleasure.

        You did not care how many times you needed to ask Miguel for help. You knew that he would tutor you seriously. It was your payment that you really looked forward too. Anytime either of you were stressed, you two had some of the best sex. When it was time to renew your lease for the house, both you and Miguel did not hesitate to agree. Miguel was the perfect roommate. Perfect boyfriend. You were not letting go of him, and neither was he of you.

[h0nology]

Protect You

saw a prowler! miles and the weeknd edit and that did it for me fr. i can’t…anyways, enjoy 🤭

warnings: he’s just a little overprotective, kissing, cussing, pet names

your friends had been begging you for weeks to come to some birthday bash one of their friends we’re having, you always ignored the question, knowing how your boyfriend was. no, he’s not controlling or anything. he just wants you to be safe. he doesn’t really like you being out alone, especially at night and how dangerous the city is. but you didn’t want to let your friends down.

so here you are, getting ready to go to a party.

you haven’t spoken to miles since earlier today, he said he had some stuff to handle and you just left it at that, knowing how he gets when you question him. this was all kind of perfect, he was busy so he wouldn’t be worried about you. for now at least.

it didn’t take you long to get ready, throwing on a random dress and some sneakers to go along with it. you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your friends to finish getting ready. once they finally were, you all made your way out the house and began to walk to the party, gladly it wasn’t far, knowing how these streets were. you all reached the party after ten minutes of walking. you could hear the music blasting before you even reached the door, some people stood outside mingling as the three of you approached the door, your friend opening it. the house was packed. people talking and dancing, the music being even louder than before, flashing strobe lights? a bit extra, but fun you suppose.

as soon as you stepped in the door, your friends were pulling you to dance with them. you really had two left feet but you still danced anyways, enjoying yourself and the moment you were having with them. you all talked with each other, took pictures, and danced for hours. but now you were tired, and thirsty. you excuse yourself from your friends, and squeezed past people to get to the kitchen, you pushed the kitchen door open where you found some water bottles on a counter, you cracked the bottle open and leaned against the counter as you chugged it down.

“hey—”

“shit!” you jumped, almost spitting your water out, “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” the stranger, who was standing way too close laughs.

“can you back up?!” you look at the little space in between the two of you.

the boy throws his hands up in defense and backs up from you, a smug look on his face. you rolled your eyes, already seeing where this was going.

“i saw you dancing earlier, you’re pretty good.” he says.

“i guess.” you shrug. this man was lying straight to your face; you were a terrible dancer.

“would you like to dance?”

“i have a boyfriend.” you shook your head.

“one dance won’t hurt.” he says, slowly making his way back over towards you, “plus, i don’t see him here.”

“turn around then.”

the familiar voice startled the boy. hell, it even startled you a little too. the boy turned around, revealing miles standing by the door, a mug on his face–along with a few cuts.

“look, i don’t want any trouble man.” the boy says, “you should’ve thought about that before you approached my girl.” miles says.

“i-i didn’t know.” he began to stutter, “i literally just told–” you started.

“i got this.” miles glares over at you before snatching the boy up by his collar, “if you go near her, if i see you talking to her, if i even see you looking at her…just know i’m not going as easy on you as i did tonight.” he threatened, “now get outta here before i beat your ass.” he finally let the boy go, who immediately ran out the kitchen.

“miles–”

“let’s go.” he grabs your hand, pulling you out the kitchen.

“miles! i could’ve handled that!” you yelled over the music.

he just ignored you, continuing to pull you out the party. finally, you two reached outside where you pulled your hand from his.

“what did i tell you about being out so late?” he didn’t yell, he never yelled at you but his voice was stern.

“i was just trying to have fun.” you muttered as you two continued to walk.

“and look where that got you.”

he was right. but it wasn’t your fault people were so damn weird.

before you could even blink, he was standing in front of you, stopping your from walking. you refused to look at him, even when he tilted your chin up.

“look at me.” he says and you roll your eyes over to meet his, “i’m not tryna control your life or anything like that, you’re just one of the few people i actually care about, i can’t lose you. i just wanna make sure you’re safe, ma.”

“i know.”

“so don’t go out all late without me, aight?” it sounds like a question but he’s not really asking you, he’s telling you.

“i hear you, miles.” you playfully role your eyes.

“you better.” he jokes (but not really) quickly stealing a kiss from your lips.

you two start walking again, this time with miles’s arm around you.

“can we talk about what happened to your face now?” you ask.

“nah, but we can talk about how pretty that dress looks on you.”

[etherealily]

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It's not like you even knew Nate.

You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.

The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.

You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.

It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.

--------

Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.

She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).

Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.

Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.

Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?

(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.

A picture, along with six other messages.

This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."

"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.

"You should be."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.

"You should be here. Come."

Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.

"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."

"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.

You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.

Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.

So much red.

Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.

He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.

"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."

Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.

But not like this.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.

"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."

Yup, that sounded about right.

You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.

"Why?"

"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.

"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"

You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.

If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.

"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"

"Look-"

"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.

"Why?"

"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.

2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.

The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.

The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.

As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.

It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.

Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.

"Let me go , McKay!"

"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.

He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.

"Okay."

He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.

What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'

You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.

"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.

He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."

"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"

"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"

"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"

The other team's captain.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."

The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?

"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"

"Yes, Coach?"

"One more, then you can send her in."

"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.

Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breaching every inch of a dry leaf.

"You came."

"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"

"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."

Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."

And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.

No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....

And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.

"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.

Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.

Smiled.

Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.

He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.

Not crack. Probably fent.

Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.

"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.

It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.

You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'

You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.

"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."

Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.

"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"

You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.

Just a coincidence, right?

You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"

"Sure."

His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."

"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"

"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"

"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.

"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.

You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.

"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.

"Small dicks?"

"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.

"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."

If he was about to say what you thought he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.

"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.

But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.

"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."

"When the fuck did you-"

"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."

Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?

"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"

"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.

"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."

"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"

No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.

"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"

"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.

"Yeah, okay, get out."

"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."

The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."

The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.

That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.

He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.

And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.

The entire football field gasped.

He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.

"Go. Play now."

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."

"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."

You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.

He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.

Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.

Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.

"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."

You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.

"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."

"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.

"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."

He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffle bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"

"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."

"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."

He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."

"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."

"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"You wanna come in?"

No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.

"I'm good."

He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."

"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."

"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."

"Why? We're never talking after this."

He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.

"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."

He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."

"What? No."

"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"

"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"

But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-

"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."

"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."

The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.

Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.

"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.

"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.

"Not dressing that wound?"

"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."

Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.

And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.

[thatnonameuser]

May I bring you something to the yandere? I shall bring you: narcissist!reader. HEAR ME OUT. Power play (not sexual) is one of my favorite things ever, I can only imagine the power play they will bring.

Like the reader starts off being all nice and sweet but they are dumb. They can see 4 people their been talked to have been killed, they can put the pieces together and they can get evidence too.

Then the second the yandere strikes it when all the narcissism, gaslighting, bitching, whining, tantrums start. The reader doesn’t wanna shit either they wanna lay around and do nothing. Then the yandere realizing “hey I don’t fucking want this bitch”, that’s when the reader starts holding evidence over their head. “Pookie I saw you kill that very important person from the next door kingdom! One little call call and you’ll be gone gone”

(Sorry if their are any spelling mistakes and that this is so long)

-Anony🪼🪸🌊

Imagine...

Who wouldn't do what you were doing, if they were in your shoes?

You didn't ask to be here, didn't ask to have them be obsessed with you.

Why shouldn't you profit from this? Two princes, the heir of enormous fortune, a movie star, the new head of a secret organisation that can make people disappear, and over dozen more vying for your affection.

Were you cruel? Maybe, but they were too. The idiots killed off those losers for you. So they're not completely innocent.

Your lil cash cows and socialites had to remain unharmed for now. So you chose a random mob student, another to seduce and trick into doing anything you pleased.

Now an RSA student was dead, another drop of blood that never touched your clean hands. And now, your plaything of the week just realised how much you screwed him.

"Y-You lied to me!" You can't remember his name, and you're getting bored. Time to go. But first...

"I never lied, you're just an idiot." His ugly, face screws up in anger. "You're in big trouble now, huh?"

"What?!"

"Oh? You didn't know that our little corpse friend was a prince?" You smile as his face blanches.

"You- YOU BITCH!" He grabs you by your throat, but you aren't afraid. 3,2,1-

A fist flies into your plaything's face, and he collides with the ground with a loud thud.

"Took you guys long enough," You laugh, as Deuce pounds the boys face into a bloody pulp. You turn, and the enraged faces of your little first year lackeys. The bloodlust in their eyes would make that little twerp on the floor crap in fear.

"Are you alright? " Jack asks, his fingers graze the red mark around your throat. Ace, Epel and Sebek join Duece in beating the shit out of the idiot on the floor.

"Perfectly, in fact, let's play a game. Whoever can get him to scream the loudest gets a kiss from me~" You can practically see the hearts in their eyes, blind to your sadism.

Screams fill the air, scaring the birds from their branches, and the animals from their hiding spots. And you grin, an evil little thing you are and you know it. But to be honest, they make people like you afraid for their lives. You're just returning the favor.

[littlexdeaths]

we should probably hear him out, right?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: angst, miscommunication, reader is bratty and mean bc her insecurities get the best of her, eddie is far too sweet for his own good.

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: ngl i did struggle a bit with this one, so i really wanna thank @strangerstilinski & @uglypastels & @undead-supernova for giving me some much needed advice. ily all 💕also this is a tad bit long… oopsie. xx.

eddie was beyond confused.

you haven’t spoken to him in days and whenever he came around to see sid, you had holed yourself up in your room. your bedroom window remained locked and despite his futile attempts to get you to open up, you ignored him.

it was such a complete 180 from how you’d been acting only a few days prior— so he couldn’t help but assume the worst.

maybe you had changed your mind, regretted this… or more specifically regretted him.

what else was he supposed to think?

but you really couldn't help yourself — too busy replaying that moment over and over in your head.

a flash of strawberry blonde hair. and the memory of eddie’s gentle gaze directed so sweetly at someone who decidedly wasn't you…

it had the green mist that clouded your mind twisting into something else entirely, something uglier. jealousy gave way to hurt, and hurt gave way to anger.

seeing eddie with her had pushed all of your insecurities to the surface. they bubbled hotly beneath your ribs and left you feeling sick to your stomach for the first few days, but that was before you realized that anger was far easier to deal with than sadness.

now, you clung to your rage like a safety blanket.

and while you wanted to be angry with both of them— it really wasn’t chrissy’s fault.

so you took that anger and frustration out on him, as childish as it was. and the more days that passed, your cold shoulder morphed into clipped words and pointed glares.

it was enough for even sid to take notice.

“dude, i don’t know what happened but i think i preferred it when she was making heart eyes at you.” he’d said after you stormed through the garage during one of their band practices.

purposefully knocking your shoulder against eddie’s while you passed by. it was so completely out of character for you that it had all the guys stunned into an uncomfortable silence.

but despite how poorly you continued to treat him, eddie kept showing up regardless. while it was always under the guise of hanging out with your brother, you knew better.

he tried his best to find a time to pull you aside to talk to you, but you were being more elusive than ever. and his own frustrations with your actions began to weigh heavily on him.

and one of these days he would explode— whether sid was there to witness it or not.

everything finally reaches a boiling point just a week later, when you came downstairs to find eddie lounging on your sofa. a random horror flick playing on the tv and your brother nowhere to be found.

while you could’ve turned around and retreated to the privacy of your room, the petty side of you wants to continue to push his buttons. so you make your way down the stairs, quietly shuffling behind the sofa and leaning your hip against it.

once you have a better view you can’t help but roll your eyes at the choice of the film, the cover art staring up at you almost mockingly.

cheerleader camp, what a surprise.

“really, munson? i thought you of all people would’ve had better taste than this shit.”

your voice sounds a beat before a dramatic score fills the room and eddie jumps in surprise. his curls bounce when his head whips around to peek up at you, and you expect to be met with a look of irritation. but you’re more than confused to see the relief that flits across his features instead.

because at least you’re talking to him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

and you have to look away from the intensity of his gaze, already feeling your defenses start to crumble. damn him. so you advert your attention back to the movie, jaw tightening as you see a flash of brightly colored pom poms fill the screen.

“oh, nothing…” you inhale sharply, “it’s just obvious that you have a type.”

you gesture towards the tv and any lingering anger swirling in your body begins to dissipate. but before he can see the flash of hurt in your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and start to climb the stairs back towards your room.

“whoa— whoa, sweetheart, hang on!” eddie huffs, hopping over the back of the sofa to rush after you.

only his socks slip on the hardwood floor and he almost goes tumbling to the ground. but he’s able to catch himself on the banister, and uses the momentum to skip past the first few steps to the landing.

“i really don’t want to do this right now, eddie.”

a glance over your shoulder has you quickening your pace, practically taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to put more distance between you. but eddie is a lot faster than you gave him credit for. the male was already hot on your heels once you reach the top of the staircase.

“jesus christ— slow down!”

you ignore him and continue down the hall toward your bedroom, and you’ve barely crossed the threshold before he’s tugging on your wrist to whirl you back around. eddie is practically panting as he pulls you closer and it takes everything in your power not to lean into his touch.

“will you please just tell me what the hell is going on?” he pleads, leaning against the door-jam.

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend about it?” you scoff, yanking your wrist out of his grip and attempting to slam the door in his face.

but eddie sticks his foot into the crack right before it can fully close, wincing as a fiery pain shoots up into his calf. and despite the throbbing in his foot, he pushes his way into your room.

“mouse, what are you even talking about?”

you can hear the frustration that begins to bleed into his voice, but you keep your back to him. you know that seeing him was going to make this that much harder.

“please just cut the bullshit eddie, i saw you with her,” you voice cracks as you try to swallow down the emotions threatening to burst from your chest.

“with who?”

“— chrissy!”

it’s silent for a beat, besides the sounds of your heavy breathing. so when you finally muster the courage to face him. that confused, yet hurt expression doesn’t falter.

“sweetheart, i honestly don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

he rubs a hand down his face with a deep sigh.

“i’m not blind, eddie,” you’re almost offended that he thinks he might be able to get away with pretending that it never happened. “i saw how she looked at you.”

eddie just stares at you for a moment, bewildered and unblinking. until he suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, which only re-ignites the hurt and fury that’s been swirling in your gut for the past week and a half.

“i really don’t see how any of this is funny, eddie,” you snap.

“it’s just….” he practically wheezes, taking a step toward you. “you’ve got this whole thing wrong, baby.”

the slip of the pet name has your insides fluttering, despite your lingering resentment.

“well enlighten me, then.”

it takes him a minute to calm down completely, but once he does he’s reaching out for your hands and closes the lingering space between your bodies.

“i promise you, mouse. i’m really not her type.”

your snort has him sighing deeply before he cradles your cheeks between his palms. while you’re not satisfied with that answer, your anger starts to fizzle under the warmth of his gaze.

eddie then licks his lips while he attempts to collect his thoughts and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion.

“let’s just say… we bat for the same team.”

embarrassment immediately floods through you as the weight of his words begin to sink in.

and now you feel like a total idiot.

“oh.” you breathe.

“yeah, oh,” he chuckles.

“oh my god, i’m so stupid,” you groan, letting your head fall forward to bump into his shoulder.

“hey, you’re not stupid, mouse. just maybe… a little prone to jumping to conclusions.”

you can feel him laugh again as he envelopes you completely in his arms. and you gladly bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck in an effort to hide your warm cheeks.

“however…” he continues, “next time, if i do something that makes you worry like that. will you promise to just come and talk to me?”

he can feel you nod your head, his body relaxing when your lips press into his clothed shoulder.

“while i know i can an asshole sometimes, i’m not a total prick.”

eddie grins when that pulls a giggle out of you, having missed that sound more than he’d care to admit. the male then gently grips your chin between his thumb and fore finger, coaxing you up until you meet his eyes.

and there’s nothing but sincerity that shines through them.

“so, what do you say?” he muses.

your head tilts in slight confusion as he leans in to nudge his nose with yours, your breath mingling together.

“be my girl?”

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[shy-writer-999]

Pretty Scars

Summary: Reader is tipsy at a bar with Zoro and compliments his scar. He’s caught off guard and can’t help himself. G/N language. SFW oneshot. 1.9k words. CW: Kissing and alcohol consumption. will edit more later~~

Zoro always said he thought his scars are ugly—he’s not beating himself up necessarily, just stating (what he thought was) a fact. He thought that they were objectively ugly, especially the one over his eye. It was ropey, relatively colorless, but if you looked at it in a certain light it was little purple, and light gray.

When Zoro has said his scars are ugly, no one bats an eye or really cares. They know Zoro isn’t fishing for compliments, and he rarely comments on his own appearance unless Sanji baits him into it. “Mosshead, you’re looking extra fucked today.” Zoro would wave a hand and roll his eyes. “Can it, you shit cook. I look better than you on your best day.”

When Zoro remarked that his eye scar is ugly and you’re around to hear it for the first time, you were at a noisy bar. It was busy and loud; people were packed in like sardines. It smelled like cigarettes, liquor, and sweat. The rest of the crew was off doing God knows what. You and Zoro were standing side by side at the bar, having a drink. The crowd pushed you closer together, almost uncomfortably close.

Some random old man staggered over to Zoro in the middle of your conversation and tugged on his arm. You could see Zoro reaching for one of his swords, hand poised in case he needed it, always wary. The guy started rambling and slurring his words, obviously hammered, spouting something nonsensical along the lines of “hey, man, those scars are gnarly! When I was a young boy, I got a scar from a fish latching onto my—” Zoro raised an eyebrow and told him to fuck off. When the old geezer stumbled away, Zoro turned to you and rolled his eye.

“Gnarly, my ass. The one over my eye is just plain ugly. Maybe I should get an eyepatch so idiots like that will start leaving me alone.” His sardonic tone was so typical for him.

Your head snapped to him, eyes flashing. “What did you just say?”

“I said my eye scar is ugly. It’s an eyesore, get it?” He was drunk, making a joke.

However, your tone was serious and earnest. “Zoro, no it isn’t.”

“Please, don’t flatter me.” He rolled his eye again and took another swig.

“I’m being serious, Zoro. It’s not ugly. Don’t say that about yourself!” Zoro paused, perturbed by your sincerity. Were you trying to compliment him?

He shrugged and looked away. “Okay, if you say so.”

You studied him for a moment. “I think your eye scar is pretty.” Had he heard you right? The bar was loud, after all. There was no way you said the word ‘pretty.’

“What?” Zoro raised his voice above the noise, leaning closer to you.  

“I said it’s pretty,” you responded, practically shouting into his ear. The bar was getting rowdier, people were singing, and you could hear shouting in the background, probably a bar fight.

“Oh.” He had heard you right. His heart skipped a beat and something inside of him twisted a bit. He’d never been called pretty a day in his life. “Are you fucking with me?” He laughed, pretending like you calling his scar ‘pretty’ didn’t just stir something inside of his core. Part of him thought that was a ridiculous joke, and the other part of him wondered whether or not you were telling the truth. Did you actually think his scar was pretty?

“Really, Zoro, it’s pretty. I think it’s special.” Your eyes met his with a smile. Something about those sweet words coming out of your mouth made him dumbfounded. Blush started to creep up his neck and flush his cheeks.

“Oh. Thanks, I guess. Never heard that one before.” Zoro was sarcastic and feigned a laugh, pretending to be unbothered. He looked away and took another swig, trying to cover up how weird that just made him feel. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or your proximity, but he had the overwhelming urge to pull you into a kiss.

Zoro had been pining after you for months at this point, but he was in denial. He just so happened to savor any time around you, he always found a way to sit close to you at dinner or find the spot next to you at the bar. But you were his crewmate, Sanji obviously had the hots for you, and you smiled like that at everyone. He wouldn’t let himself dream of it.

He rationalized it—you were a friend, you were pretty, you were in close proximity to him, and all of these things combined together made him feel like he had a crush, but he didn’t really have one. You were just a pretty friend who was close to him all the time and who he liked arduously more and more each day. No biggie. No cause for alarm. Everything was normal and fine.

“No one’s ever said that to you before?” You asked. You were always forthcoming with your affection for him, you smiled at him more than anybody else and treasured any time you spent with him. But the past few months made you resigned—you knew you never had a chance. You could physically feel that you weren’t on Zoro’s radar. He just wasn’t interested in you, and that was okay. It’s something that you had come to accept. And accepting that fact made you all the more forthcoming. You didn’t have anything to worry about, because you were friends and friends only. His behavior towards you for months was evidence of that. You had lost track of how many times you tried to flirt with him, how many times you had let your skin contact linger, how many times you felt lovesick, and how many times you had cried over the fact that your feelings were obviously not reciprocated.

So, you weren’t afraid to be blunt with him. He wouldn’t care.

“I can’t believe that no one has ever said that to you!” You shouted, and someone mistakenly pushed an elbow into your back, moving you closer to Zoro. You were practically chest to chest. “You’re gorgeous, Zoro. That’s crazy talk.” Your eyes locked, and you were the closest you had ever been to him.

His heart stopped again. He couldn’t take it. You were so close, he could see each eyelash, each fleck of color in your irises, the gentle lines of your cupid’s bow, your lips curling into a smile. You smelled great, to top it off.

You were too kind to him. Too sweet. He blushed crimson and chuckled again, brushing off your compliment. “Thanks. That’s sweet.” You smiled at him and his heart twisted again. You were so close to him. Fuck. He couldn’t tell if you were flirting with him or not. Might as well repay the favor.

“You know, I could say the same about you.” He replied, smirking, drunk and unaware of the effect of his words on you. “You’re gorgeous. But you already know that, the shit cook drools over you 24/7.”

Before you had a chance to process what he said, someone pushed into Zoro’s back, practically slamming him into you. He grabbed your waist to steady you and saved you both from toppling over.

It was like one of those moments in a movie or fairytale—prince charming gazes into his love interest's eyes and they kiss. Except the kiss didn’t happen, and you stared into Zoro’s eyes for a good five seconds, his face centimeters away from yours.

He looked at you, his gaze darted to your lips for a second, and then returned back to your eyes. You both held your breath for a moment before Zoro rapidly straightened you both upright and let go of your waist. There’s no denying that was a romantic moment. You both felt it, regardless of your reservations about the nature of your relationship with each other.

Zoro broke the awkward silence, “Damn, this place is a wreck right now. Let’s get out of here.”

You shouldered and shoved your way through the raucous crowd and finally made it out the door. It was cool and dark out, a nice night, one of those cooler ones towards the end of the summer, ones that everyone looks forward to.

There were a few benches in front of the bar, some people mingling, people smoking cigarettes and talking. You and Zoro sat down on one of the benches, almost out of breath. A beat passed.

“So, where were we?” Zoro’s tone was puzzled, over-exaggerated. The liquid courage was doing its job splendidly. He was tickled with the night so far—you had complimented him and he got to ‘save’ you from falling. “Ohhh, yeah. I said you’re gorgeous.”

Zoro looked at you. Now he was being purposefully blunt. He couldn't hold it back anymore. You were so close to him. He was enamored with you. He was brazen, at a point where he didn’t care how the night went. He just wanted you to know that he thought you were gorgeous. And he was drunk.

You laughed. “Zoro, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? And who’s to say I’m not?”

Your heart did a flip and your mouth went dry. “Well… I guess I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

This was the first time you ever felt like Zoro was returning the flirt. Usually, you just flirted with him blindly, candidly, to no avail. But something about tonight was different—when you gave Zoro that compliment on his scar it made him realize that you paid attention to him. Not just attention to him like a crewmate but real attention, you had been sincere. Something was there, some spark that he couldn’t quite place.

“Is that so?” He asked. “I guess I gotta to be bolder next time.”

“Next time you flirt with me?” Your cheeks flushed and you were hyperaware of his presence. Your knees were touching.

Zoro leaned in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, see the rosy tint of his cheeks. He was so, so handsome. Your heartbeat was through the roof. Things escalated fast, and he leaned in farther.

Your lips met and the kiss felt electric, on fire, other-worldly. His hand reached up to tangle in your hair. His lips and tongue tasted sweet, slightly alcoholic, warm, and needy. You were blushing so hard you felt like you would pass out.

“Fuck, your lips are soft.” He pulled away from you and held your face close to his. “We should do this more often.”

--

thanks for reading, i hope u liked it ( ´ ω ` ) masterlist here

[writingroom21]

Okay how about this purge AU

Where reader is a pouge and is not living in a secure house.

Rafe is the one purging like the other kooks but had a soft spot for shy pouge reader and lets her stay in his house and threatens her to have sex with her or else he kills her (I mean he's lying but she believes him so they have sex)

Purged

Warnings: 18+, DUBCON, smut, darkish Rafe. Please be advised that reader only has sex with Rafe in fear of her life.

Wc: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this took me forever to get out. I was contemplating on how I wanted to go about this because this is a new realm of writing for me. Then I felt like everything I was writing sucked.

You know when you say you wish your life was like a movie? The first time that idea ever occurred to you was when you were a kid watching Disney movies. You’ve always wished to be able to run away from your home life. Escape into a world where you could be anything and have the perfect life.

Growing up as a pogue you found it hard to see how the other half lived. You and your friends were barely getting by and then there were the super rich kids. It also didn’t help when the kook and pogue rivalry started to gear up. It felt as if no matter where you went people would always remind you that you are nothing and no one would care if you disappeared. 

Even Though it was hard you tried to not let it bother you. Taking all the insults they threw at you as if they were nothing. Cleaning up your yard after they trashed it without making a peep. The kooks from your year always seemed bothered by you never making a fuss. The other pogues always put up a fight and then there was you. The only one who never showed any hatred from them and never showed weakness even when they tried. 

You were like some rock that they couldn't move. Which only ended up making you a target for their games. Every Halloween a bunch of kooks would make their way to the cut just to egg your house. One time they even put up edited photos of you all around school making you the laughing stock. To say the least they were not happy when you just kept walking with your head high not acknowledging what they did.

Your only escape was dreaming how different your life could be. Comparing your situation to the ones on your tv screen which only had half a screen. You’ve pictured your life in most movies or sitcoms. But you never imagined it as a horror movie.

Today was a normal day like every other day. You had gotten up and rode your bike all the way to work. Since you work at the country club you always have to deal with all of the kooks. Especially since you work the front desk so you are the first thing they see every time they walk in. Today was no different with the snide remarks.

“Look its the whore from the cut. I’m surprised they haven’t given you a job upgrade after fucking all of them.” Some random guy you think you’ve ever seen comments. You just type away at the computer ignoring his irritating voice. He walks up to the desk and tries to talk to you again. “Come one why don’t we go to the back and you show me how you got this job.”

You slowly look up at him and see Rafe Cameron behind him. You watch as he taps the guy's shoulder and gets even more confused about this whole situation. “Yo buddy why don’t you fuck off.” The guy turns around and backs up a little when he sees Rafe walking towards him. “Why do you care?” Rafe gets in his face ready to punch him if he opens his mouth one more time.

“Because I fucking do. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now run along before I beat the shit out of you.” They guy looks back at you and then scurries off without another word. “You okay?”You stare at him in shock. “Yeah I’m good.” He just nods his head, knocking on the front desk in front of your computer. “Good.” Then he was off to go play golf like he does every Saturday. 

You don’t understand what just happened. He was a kook and he was defending you. Now that you think about it you never really saw him be rude to you. He never made fun of you and you can’t recall him laughing at your expense. The rest of your shift was a haze. All you could think about is why would he tell that guy off. It’s not like the two of you were friends.

By the time you left work it was on the back burner. The wind was blowing in your hair as you pedal through the streets. The breeze was a nice comparison to the heat from the day. You were a few streets away from the country club when your phone started ringing.. The noise was obnoxious like those test alerts they sometimes do. You pull over to the side of the road and pull out your phone.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the new commencement of the purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. When the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all."

You stare at your phone as the voice reads the words that scroll through your screen. Laughing you put your phone away thinking it was some dumb joke and keep riding your bike. After only a few pedals a loud siren scares you, making you fall from your bike. You slowly stand up fixing your bike and looking around. Everything seemed normal so it must have been nothing. 

Then there was a scream.

One that you would hear in a horror movie when they are getting murdered. You look around confused as to where the noise came from until you see someone run out of a building holding their shoulder. Just as you were about to ask if they are okay another person runs out with a knife, stabbing the first person until they are laying in a puddle of their blood. Standing there in horror your eyes meet theirs as they look up.

As quickly as you can you get on your bike pedaling as fast as you can. You see people running out of the store with a bunch of things, other people laying on the ground. This honestly doesn’t even feel real to you. It has to be some nightmare you are about to wake up from. You take one hand off the bar to pinch yourself and sure enough this is all real. 

Suddenly a truck is revving behind you, headlights illuminating you on the street. The wheels make a crunching sound as they speed up along the street. Fuck. You have nowhere to go and they keep getting closer. Panicking you dart to the sidewalk trying to get to the trees for cover when you hear your name. Looking over your shoulder you see Rafe leaning to the passenger window trying to get your attention.

Great he defended you earlier just to kill you now.

“Can you just fucking stop for a minute. You need to get in.” Not stopping you go down a dirt road trying to get away only for him to follow. He passes you and stops so you can’t get any further. He gets out of the car and walks towards you. “Please, I just want to get home. You don’t have to do this.” You try to plead with him. Sure you could ride off right now but he would just catch up eventually.

Rafe gives you a look and shakes his head. “I’m not going to kill you or something. The kook from earlier, you know the asshole.” You nod your head at him recalling the guy. “He made a post once the announcement came on. Told everyone to go to your house so they can all kill you. I’m just trying to save you.”

It's hard to believe that he wants to help you. “Why would you help me?” He crosses his arms and takes a step back towards the driver side door. “I maybe an asshole but I’m not a killer. Plus you never once did anything to deserve this.” You were still skeptical until he showed you the post. After another second of thinking you agreed and he’s loading up your bike in the trunk. If he was going to kill you he would have done it by now. Both of you are out of sight of any person and plus there are no laws stopping him. Maybe he is just trying to help you.

You get in the passenger seat and look in the back to see a shirt with red stains on it. Rafe catches your eye sight when he gets in and sees how you scoot closer to the door. It’s the polo shirt he was wearing before you didn’t even notice he wasn’t wearing the same thing. You want to leave but he convinces you otherwise. “I got a bloody nose on the course. Stupid Topper was practicing swinging and I didn’t see.”

It makes sense, you’ve seen it happen plenty of times. Rafe is grateful when he sees you relax. He doesn’t want you to know that the blood is actually Thomas’. After he saw the post he found Thomas going to his car. He used the bat he keeps in the back seat to teach him a lesson and ended up killing him. The last thing Rafe needs is for you to be scared of him when all he wants is to protect you.

When he arrives at his house he is quick to get you inside. Stating that the less people that see you both the better. Plus his house has a great security system so no one will be able to get in.

“Where’s your family?” That’s a great question that he honestly couldn’t care about. The only person he’s worried about is his youngest sister but he already messaged her and she’s staying at her friend's house until it is all over. The house is the one next door so he knows she’s safe. “My dad and Rose are on a business trip. Sarah went with them and Wheezie is good. It’s just us here.” Something about the way he says it sounds reassuring yet the undertones tell a different story. Ignoring it you let him lead you around the house mansion, giving you a tour so you are comfortable. The time keeps ticking as the two of you talk. It feels like the world actually isn’t ending and it’s nice to forget about what is happening outside. Rafe had put on a movie after a while of just sitting. It was a dumb action movie so you weren’t really interested. You were looking around his room.

He said the upper floors would be safest since it gave the two of you more time to get to the safe room. Not that the two of you would need it but just in case. Again it made sense so you went along with it. The room was simple, a TV was across his bed and there were little decorations. It honestly didn’t seem like a bedroom and more like where you put the guests. As you look around Rafe is busy looking at you. 

He’s always like how you kept to yourself. Even when the other kooks gave you shit all you did was take it. Never put up a fight and took it with stride. It reminded him of himself. He’s used to taking crap from his dad and he isn’t allowed to say anything. He admires the fact that you share the quality with him.

When you turn your attention back to the tv you see that Rafe is looking at you. You turn to ask him what’s wrong but he takes you by surprise. He kissed you. It took you a few seconds to realize that he was kissing you. His lips are moving against yours but you are completely still. What the hell is happening? This isn’t real.

You pull away, pushing his shoulders when he tries to chase you. “What are you doing?” Wanting to put some space between you two, you move further away on the bed. Which in hindsight might have been bad since you are now up against the wall. “I’m kissing you. What the hell are you doing?” He grabs your arm, yanking you back next to him. He starts to kiss your shoulder as you try to think of what to do.

He’s kissing your neck and all you want is to get out of here. Pushing him off of you again, you get up from the bed. “What is wrong with you?” You give him a look of disbelief. “What’s wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you?” Rafe gets up from the bed and blocks the door as you try to leave. “Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to help me. I don’t want this.”

Rafe is starting to get angry now. Why are you fighting this? “What are you even talking about?” He’s messing with your brain right now. There’s no way he can be serious. “Why fight this? We are so alike and we should be together.” Wow he really is serious. You knew he was crazy from what you’ve seen and what others told you but you never believed them.

“Are you fucking crazy? We don’t belong together. I don’t know where you got that idea when this is like the first time we even talked or hung out. Plus the only reason why I’m here is because of the stupid purge thing.” You’re panicking. He’s still blocking your way out and he has this look in his eyes. If you had to pinpoint it the look would be sad maybe desperation. But you knew better, that wasn’t it.

“Fine if that’s how you feel then you can leave.” He’s bluffing, the rejection hurts but he wouldn’t hurt you. You don’t make a move to leave so he goes over to drag you out of the room. He just wants you to leave him alone and just stay in one of the guest rooms. 

You really start to panic now. He’s throwing you out just because you won’t sleep with him. The grip on your arm is tight so you know he’s mad. Just as he goes to open the door you throw your body onto him, lips smashing against his. He’s confused. You were just fighting him because he kissed you and here you are. He pulls away holding you in his hands. “I’m sorry. Don’t put me out when they want to kill me.”

Oh

You think that he’s going to let them kill you. Wait he can actually work with this. “Why shouldn’t I? There’s nothing in it for me by keeping you safe. I should honestly just offer you up to them.” He’s lying to his teeth. Even if he truly wanted to, there's a part of him that doesn’t want to hurt you. Your eyes start to swell with tears. You’re scared, you don’t want to die and you know out there you will. 

“I’m just scared, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight so I was pushing you away.” He knows you are lying, only saying it to save yourself. A sick part of him doesn’t even care, liking that you are willing to sell yourself for safety. One of his hands cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him. “It’s okay baby. You don’t need to be scared, I’ve got you.” There is a need to be scared. He’s willing to sell you out and he thinks there is nothing to be scared about.

He leans in, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you. You timidly kiss him back, letting him set the pace. As the kiss progresses he gets more aggressive. Slowly he starts to pull you back into the room. His hands are wandering your body and it doesn’t feel right. You wish this stupid purge never started or that he had never found you. Maybe it would have been better if you did go home and they found you.

His kisses start to travel down your neck, his hands making their way under your shirt. You allow him to pull it up, leaving you in just a bra. Rafe takes a moment to admire you, playing with your breasts. He takes you closing your eyes as a sign of pleasure, enjoying the feeling. But in reality you just need to get it over with. “You look so beautiful.” You hum not knowing what to really say. Once again he takes it as you enjoying what he’s doing. 

Before you know it you’re laying down on his bed naked with him on top of you. His fingers are rubbing your clit, circling it as he sucks on one of your nipples. You hate that it actually feels a little good. But you remind yourself that you can’t control how your body reacts. His actions stop causing your eyes to open.

You are greeted with his eyes staring down at you. “I knew you felt it too.” He kissed you, distracting you from the fact he lined himself up. Your mouth gaps open when he pushes himself in. It feels like he is splitting you in two. Giving you just a few moments to adjust he starts to thrust. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into him.

“God, you feel so good.” His head drops to your shoulder. “Doesn’t it feel good?” You nod your head as he kisses your neck, trying to stifle the whimpers threatening to escape. His thrusts are steady, ripping you apart from the inside out. You only got a little glimpse of him but you saw that he was big. Not only that he was girthy too.

It wouldn’t be a shock if he was actually ripping you apart. His right hand right hand finds its way between the both of you. His thumb continues its work from earlier and circles your clit. You squirm around as he keeps using your body. 

He grabs your face so you are looking at him. “It feels good right?” He repeats the question, nuzzling his nose with yours. “So good.” At the confirmation he lets out a moan and rests his head in the crook of your neck. 

You don’t know how long you laid there but soon his hips started to lose their rhythm. His grip on you tightens as he finally cums. He keeps holding you so you wrap your arms around him. You soothe him for some odd reason, running your hand up and down his back.

Rafe starts to feel guilty. He does know that you only slept with him to stay alive. It’s starting to eat at him. He lifts himself up to look at you and caresses your face. When your eyes meet his, he breaks.

“I wouldn’t have hurt you.” You just look at him without saying anything. “You may not believe it but I mean it. I won’t hurt you.”

You somewhat believe him. Maybe he wouldn’t have sent you off to your death but he still hurt you. Yet for some reason you give him what he’s seeking. “I know. It’s okay.”

The purge may have taken a part of you but you know that he’ll live with the guilt.

[lola-la-cava]

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

[devourer-of-words]

The Fall

[Edit: Forgot to do a content warning I'm so sorry! CW: escalating tension, drinking/alcohol. Not really angsty but a random demon decides to be rude.]

You and the brothers are all at a party at The Fall. Everyone's having a good time, the music has a nice beat, the color-changing lights are vibrant and you're sipping on a rather fruity glass of demonus. It feels much more akin to a rave than the typical more toned down parties you've attended with the brothers, part of the reason tonight feels so special. Everyone seems much more relaxed, like they're letting loose and just having fun.

Asmo and Mammon dragged Lucifer to the dance floor and, to your surprise, Lucifer was laughing and smiling as he danced with them. Levi and Beel sat at the bar together, laughing over the very fun drinks they ordered. There had to be at least a good at 6 inches of whipped cream over the rim of the glasses, both with colorful bendy straws bent and shaped into hearts. Levi pulled him closer and held up a peace sign as they took a selfie together. You, Satan, and Belphie had all been sitting together taking a breather from the dance floor when you realized your glass was empty. You excused yourself and began heading over to the bar when one particularly bold demon decided to start shit with you.

The demon shoulder checks you hard. The force sends your drink shattering to the floor. Without really thinking, you go to apologize for bumping into them but they cut you off and start mouthing to you about how you need to watch where you're going and blah blah blah. You decide you wanna be the bigger person (you don't want murder charges because this demon stands NO chance against you) and you start to walk away. The demon keeps egging you on. It's starting to cause a scene and people staring. Your back is to the demon when you feel something wet seeping into your clothes and droplets rolling down your skin. Demonus is spilled down the back of your neck, it's in your hair and all over your back, effectively ruining your nice attire. It catches everyone in The Fall off-guard. The music slows and the spotlights stop moving. It's quiet, like people are afraid to speak and as the situation finally sets in, something in you snaps.

Mammon and Satan are both at your sides in a heartbeat, they each wait patiently as you take out any piercings you have that you hand off to them. At the same time, Leviathan and Asmodeus are crouched on the floor next to your feet. They each undo the straps of your uncomfortable but fancy shoes and help you step out of them. Behind you, Beelzebub gently ties back your hair and clips back any loose strands so they don't get in your way. Once you're free of your piercings and shoes and your hair is tied back, Belphegor helps you shrug off your jacket. He stands aside, holding it to his chest giving you a small smile. And while they're all stone-faced and serious with determination burning in their eyes, they give you an aggressive thumbs-up.

You begin finally approaching the demon, now adequately prepared to give them a piece of your mind, when Lucifer appears suddenly and smoothly places a tall glass of demonus in your hands. While it doesn't have the same effect as alcohol from the human world, the sentiment is nice and it adds a decent fear factor when you down it in one gulp, considering most demons don't know demonus doesn't effect humans. Lucifer smirks at you when you give him the empty glass back. He gives a slight bow before signaling to the DJ to start the music back up.

You look to your opponent and they're looking at you with eyes the size of saucers. You look downright deadly with the way you're staring them down. The music kicks in with an aggressive beat and the spotlights start moving again, occasionally bathing you in vibrant violet light, highlighting your icy expression. You’re terrifying. Especially with having the 7 demon lords standing several feet behind you, all with the same death glare you have. The demon isn't feeling very bold anymore.

[wadewnstonwilson]

quiet times;

summary: Logan often goes on walks to clear his head, while Wade secretly prepares for his return, leaving humorous, heartfelt notes around the apartment. Wade’s chaotic personality draws Logan out of his solitude, and Logan’s calm demeanor gives Wade a safe space to unwind.

word count: 1k.

Logan and Wade weren’t the type of people who made sense together—not on paper, not in theory, and definitely not in the kind of world where people paired off neatly into couples with picket fences and matching dishware. They were jagged, broken pieces, barely held together by sheer stubbornness and a touch of gallows humor. If their lives had been puzzles, they wouldn’t have had matching edges. And yet, when they came together, somehow it just… worked.

Logan was all gruff stability. He didn’t say much—never had—but his presence was grounding in a way that cut through the noise in Wade’s head. When Wade’s mind spiraled, spinning up into a chaotic whirlwind of hyperactive thoughts and relentless energy, Logan had a way of pulling him back down to earth without even trying. Sometimes, it was the way he looked at Wade—calm, steady, and utterly unfazed by his antics. Other times, it was his voice, that low rumble that could somehow be both a growl and a reassurance.

“Easy, Wade,” his words a quiet tether as Wade ranted or rambled or paced the room for the fifth time in an hour. And somehow, it worked. Wade would slow down, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself lean into the stability Logan offered. He didn’t like admitting it—hell, he’d rather die than admit it—but he needed Logan more than he cared to acknowledge.

Wade, on the other hand, was chaos personified. He was loud and brash, throwing himself into every moment like he had something to prove. He dragged Logan into his world of ridiculous antics and inappropriate jokes, poking at his brooding exterior until he got the reaction he wanted. He had a knack for breaking through Logan’s walls, his humor chipping away at the darkness Logan carried like a second skin.

“Hey, Claws,” Wade said, leaning over the back of the couch with a grin that promised trouble. “When are you gonna quit brooding and join the land of the living? You’re like if Eeyore fucked a lumberjack and made a baby that didn’t understand how to smile.”

Logan would grunt, shooting him a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re in love with me,” Wade would shoot back without missing a beat, winking at him before flopping onto the couch. Logan never denied it, and Wade always took that as a victory.

They both had their coping mechanisms, their ways of handling the shit they’d been through. Logan, when the weight of his past got too heavy, would disappear for hours, going on long walks to clear his head. Wade, of course, couldn’t let him do that without giving him hell first.

“Where you off to, Logie Bear?” He'd call after Logan as he grabbed his jacket. “Gonna go write sad poetry about your feelings? Maybe find a secluded cliff to brood on like the world’s most depressing Disney prince?”

But the second Logan was out the door, Wade would start prepping for his return. He wasn’t the sentimental type—or so he told himself—but he had a habit of making sure the place was ready for Logan when he got back. He’d order Logan’s favorite food, grumbling about how much he hated the smell of it. He’d set out a bottle of whiskey with two glasses, because he knew Logan wouldn’t drink alone. And sometimes, he’d leave little notes for him to find, scrawled in his messy handwriting and taped to random objects around the apartment.

One night, after a particularly rough mission, Logan came back to find a note taped to the door. In Wade’s handwriting, it read: “Miss you, stabby hubby. Don’t get eaten by bears, but if you do, make sure you take one down with you. Gotta keep the Wolverine rep alive.” There was a crude drawing of Wade punching a bear in the face at the bottom, complete with exaggerated muscles and a speech bubble that read, “Take that, Smokey!”

Logan shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he pulled the note off the door and tucked it into his pocket. He wouldn’t admit it—hell, he’d rather stab himself with his own claws—but he kept every single one of those notes. They were ridiculous, sure, but they were also… Wade’s. And that made them worth more than anything else he owned.

Inside, he found another note taped to the bottle of whiskey on the counter. This one read: “Cheers to my favorite emo lumberjack. Try not to brood too hard tonight. You’re only allowed two grunts and one sigh. Any more than that, and I’m coming over to kick your ass.”

He poured himself a glass, smirking as he muttered, “You’re a pain in my ass, Wade.”

Right on cue, the door burst open, and Wade strolled in like he owned the place. “Miss me, claws?” he said, grabbing the glass Logan had just poured for him and downing it in one go. “Damn, that’s good. You’ve got taste, I’ll give you that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Wade shot back, flopping onto the couch with all the grace of a drunk octopus. He sprawled out, his legs thrown over the armrest as he glanced back at Logan with a smirk. “Come on, babe. Sit your broody ass down and tell me all about your sad-boy walk. Did you find enlightenment? Meet a wise old turtle who taught you the meaning of life?”

Logan sighed, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he joined Wade on the couch. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” Wade said, sticking his tongue out at him before grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another glass.

They sat there, side by side, the silence between them easy and comfortable. Wade didn’t push him to talk, and Logan didn’t try to fix him. They just… existed together, two broken pieces that somehow fit.

At one point, Wade reached into his pocket and pulled out another note, tossing it into Logan’s lap. “Here. For your collection.”

Logan unfolded it, his eyes scanning the messy handwriting: “Love ya, asshole. Don’t go getting all soft on me.”

He looked up at Wade, his expression softening despite himself. “You’re impossible.”

Wade grinned, leaning back with his arms stretched out across the couch. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was all the confirmation Wade needed.