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abbotjack · 1 month ago

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Overtime .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪₊ ⊹˚

pairing : dr. jack abbot x reader x dr. michael "robby" robinavitch

summary : You told yourself you were just taking your time. Just late for a blind date Samira set up. But the truth is, you stayed behind on purpose. You listened to their voices. You waited. You weren’t supposed to want this—not from them. But you've been holding it in for too long. And they’ve been watching you just as closely. INSPIRED BY PREVIEW FOR NEXT WEEK'S EPISODE.

warnings/content : Threesome (M/F/M). Vaginal and oral sex (f. receiving). Set in a hospital locker room. Praise, light power dynamics, subtle possessiveness. Emotionally restrained men. No m/m interaction. No protection used. Yeah really no plot just filth

word count : 4,672

18+ ONLY, not beta read. Please read responsibly.

The trauma bay smells like alcohol swabs and synthetic latex, and something heavier clinging underneath—stale blood or antiseptic, it’s hard to tell which. Someone’s wiped down the counters but not the floor. There’s still a puddle under the base of the gurney, shiny and half-dried, not enough to slip on but enough to keep you standing a little off-center.

You leave the curtain half-drawn behind you as you head toward the locker room. Not in a rush. You don’t move like someone eager to get out—you move like someone delaying something they haven’t put a name to.

Your body’s on autopilot. The kind of post-shift shutdown where your hands still flex like they’re gloved, your spine’s too straight from twelve hours of standing, and you haven’t realized how hungry you are until your stomach knots around nothing.

The hallway lights feel too bright. The door handle cold against your palm. You step inside and let it swing shut behind you. The air is still. Not silent, exactly—just muffled. Contained. The hum of the vents.

You stop at your locker and open it. A half-eaten granola bar sits on the shelf next to your spare scrubs. Your hand rests on the hem of your scrub top. You don’t pull it off.

You just stand there. Listening.

Not to yourself.

To them.

From somewhere down the hallway you can hear Jack and Robby trading tension like it’s clinical procedure.

“You pushed the paralytics too early,” Jack says, voice low and clipped. “She wasn’t ready.”

“She was already bottoming out,” Robby answers. “I didn’t see you moving any faster.”

“If I waited, we would’ve had a stable line.”

“If you waited, she would’ve lost her airway.”

It’s not yelling. They don’t yell.

It’s quiet. Controlled. So precise it hurts to listen to. Like they’ve done this before—not just here, but in a hundred trauma bays before this one, in years they never talk about.

You know the way they argue. You’ve watched them do it across body bags and shift changes. But this time, you don’t move on.

You just stay.

You reach for your phone.

8:07 PM – SAMIRA don’t ghost me

8:08 PM – HIM still good for 8?

8:08 PM – SAMIRA please go i told him you were hot like ER hot he’s new he’s NORMAL u need normal just flirt kiss him if he’s not annoying

You stare at the screen for a long moment. Type out :

Still at work...

Then delete it.

The plan was simple. Leave on time. Shower. Maybe mascara. Meet Samira’s friend for a drink somewhere tolerable. You hadn’t been optimistic, but you’d said yes. You even wore a lace black bra, not too sheer, just something that made you feel like a person under the hospital layers.

But instead, you’re still here.

The voices carry again.

“You want clean intubation? You wait for visualization.”

“You want a pulse? You don’t wait at all.”

And then, clear as anything, you hear it—

“You always think you’re right.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

You’re halfway out the locker room before you realize you’re moving.

One hand still on the doorframe, body loose with something between exhaustion and defiance.

You don’t think. You don’t plan it.

You just lean into the hallway, and say,

“Looks like two old white guys who still can’t figure out how to intubate a patient.”

The silence that follows is surgical.

Jack’s head turns slightly at the sound—reflexive, automatic—but the second he sees you, something shifts.

A flicker of recognition. Like a signal’s been hit.

His shoulders square. His mouth goes still.

He turns the rest of the way. Not fast. Just… deliberate. Like a spotlight locking on. His eyes skim your face, your chest, then back to your eyes—taking in everything and giving nothing back.

Robby follows a second later. He’s already smiling like he can’t decide if he’s impressed or pissed.

“Oh, I know she’s not talking about us,” Robby says.

“Well I know she’s not talking about me,” Jack mutters.

You lift a brow. “And if I am?”

You hold their stares for a breath longer than you should. Then you turn. Not fast. Not flustered. Just… done.

You walk back into the locker room without a word and leave the door open. You don’t have to look to know they’ll follow.

And they do.

Jack enters first—quiet, unreadable, his presence pressing in without needing to speak.

Robby follows a beat later. He exhales, half-laughs under his breath, and says :

“You’re mouthy today.”

“I’m post-shift,” you reply, not facing them yet. “And this is the third time this week I’ve heard you two go at it like divorced dads at a resuscitation workshop.”

“You’re still here,” Jack says, watching you. “Why?”

You shrug. “I had a date.”

Robby’s brow arches. “Had?”

“Supposed to meet someone. Samira’s friend. He just moved back to Pittsburgh.”

“You're not going?”

You glance over your shoulder at them. “Clearly I’m running late.”

You don’t wait for their response. You just pivot—slow, deliberate—like the conversation’s over. Like you didn’t just hand them the truth in a sealed envelope and walk away from it.

Jack shifts. Robby studies you.

You add, quieter now, without turning back :

“Figured if I stalled long enough, maybe I wouldn’t have to go at all.”

A beat.

“Guess I’m just not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood for what?” Jack asks.

You hesitate—just for a second.

“Nice,” you say.

And that’s when it happens. That snap in the room. Like someone closed a valve too fast. The pressure spikes.

“You wore lace,” Jack says.

You stop mid-step. Turn slowly. Blink.

“Excuse me?”

“That strap peaking out doesn’t look standard. You wore lace under your scrubs.”

Robby’s gaze flicks down, measured. “On a trauma shift.”

“It’s what was clean,” you lie.

It sounds false the second it leaves your lips—thin and fast, like you’re trying to sweep something off the floor before anyone notices. And both of them notice.

Robby doesn’t correct you right away. He just tilts his head, eyes flicking briefly down the center of your body—not ogling, but noticing. He lingers at your waist, then lifts his gaze back to your face, calm and unshaken.

Then, without a hint of mockery,

“No,” he says softly. “It’s what you picked.”

The quiet that follows isn’t comfortable. It vibrates.

You shift slightly, the hem of your scrub top sticking to your lower back. Your chest feels too tight in the tank beneath it. The lace underneath is starting to itch, but not from discomfort—just awareness. The fact of it, now exposed, somehow makes it feel sharper against your skin.

Jack’s still watching you—shoulders squared, hands at his sides, not moving. But it’s the stillness that unsettles you. The patience of it. Like he’s already read the outcome and is waiting for you to catch up.

“And you stayed,” Jack says, voice low.

Not accusing. Not surprised. Just the truth.

You look toward the exit, like that’ll help you regain control. Like pretending you’re still on your way out will change what’s already unfolding.

But you don’t move. You don’t even blink.

His voice drops—not teasing anymore. Just steady. Clinical. Like he's reading vitals straight off your chart, and he already knows how the story ends.

“You haven’t changed. You didn’t go to your car. You didn’t even unclip your badge.”

Robby's voice cuts in—smooth, but anchored with something harder.

“You’ve been waiting.”

A pause.

“You missed your date on purpose.”

You laugh, too quickly. It’s not convincing. It’s the kind of sound you make when you feel the edge of something sharp and pretend it doesn’t hurt.

“Right. Because standing around while you two argue like it’s foreplay is a great way to spend a Friday night.”

Jack doesn’t even flinch. “You mouth off in the pit. You flirt without smiling. You track us when we speak.”

You shift your weight. “I track everyone.”

“Not like this,” Robby says, voice tighter now, like the act of calling it out is doing something to him too.

Jack’s eyes narrow—not in anger. In certainty. “You ask us questions you already know the answers to. You stall your movement when we pass you. You hold the vitals clipboard like it’s a shield and a dare.”

“You wait for our shift overlaps,” Robby adds, voice lower. “You take the longest hallway. The one that goes past trauma, even when it’s not the most direct.”

“You hold eye contact longer than anyone on this floor,” Jack murmurs. “Until it matters. Then you look away.”

And you do.

You already did.

You didn’t even realize you dropped your gaze until Jack took that step forward and the room got hotter.

You look down at your shoes like that means something. Like it gives you back a piece of yourself.

But it doesn’t.

Jack sees it.

You hear it in his tone—how something in him tightens.

“You think we don’t see it?”

Robby’s voice is quiet, but it lands heavy. “You think we haven’t wanted to say something sooner?”

Your pulse climbs to your throat.

You make yourself look at them—at both of them.

Their faces are unreadable, but not blank. You can feel it radiating off them—attention. Restraint. Intention.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask.

Jack doesn’t hesitate.

“Because the second we say it, we’re not just talking anymore.”

The air between you cracks open.

You feel your stomach dip, your chest clench, your calves tense like they’re bracing for something that hasn’t touched you yet.

The silence this time is worse.

It lingers.

It buzzes.

You realize you’ve been holding the edge of the locker the entire time—so tight your fingertips are red.

You swallow, but your throat sticks.

Then you say it :

“You think I wore this just to get your attention?”

Robby doesn’t move. His voice doesn’t change. But his gaze drops—slowly—to your clavicle. He watches the way your pulse shifts under the skin.

“Did you?”

You try again. “No.”

It barely makes it out. Too breathy. Not defiant—just unraveled.

“Then why aren't you going on that date?”

You know the answer. You’ve known it since you stood in front of your locker too long. But saying it? That’s something else.

“Because I didn’t feel like sitting across from some guy who’s never set foot in an ER and explaining why I showed up thirty minutes late and still covered in adrenaline.”

You look at them now, full on.

“I’m good at this. I’m better than good. And I’m not going to spend the night pretending I’m smaller just to make someone else feel bigger.”

Jack’s gaze sharpens—not cruel, not even surprised. Just locking in. Like a monitor flatlining and spiking at once.

“He wouldn’t have known how to talk to you,” Robby says. It’s not a dig. It’s a diagnosis.

Jack, quieter now, “He wouldn’t have known how to see you.”

You almost respond.

But your mouth stays open and useless. Because they’re right. And you hate that some part of you wanted to hear it from them.

Robby steps forward. Not crowding you. Just present. Enough to tilt the room.

“But we do.”

Jack’s voice is a whisper of heat.

“We’ve seen you. All along.”

It sinks into your chest.

You feel your jaw twitch. Your vision tightens.

Jack continues. “We’ve watched you lead. Watched you pull two lives back from the edge this week. Watched you make choices most residents would’ve hesitated over.”

“You think we haven’t noticed that your hands don’t shake when it matters?” Robby says. “You think we don’t see how much it costs you to keep control all the time?”

“You’ve been waiting,” Jack says again. “You just didn’t know if we’d be the ones to break it.”

You shiver. You don’t know if it shows.

Your breath catches on something inside you, and suddenly you’re braced between them—not physically, but gravitationally. Like they’ve closed in without moving.

“I don’t—” you start, but Jack’s already stepping behind you.

“You don’t have to lead right now,” he says, voice low, close to your neck. “You don’t have to perform.”

“You already did,” Robby says. “And we saw it.”

“You’ve been better than most of the other residents for months.”

“You just never let anyone say it.”

“You called the chest tube before I did,” Jack says. “And you did it without hesitation.”

Your whole body aches now. Your shoulders. Your legs. Your hands. All of it. Like tension has been your armor and now it’s slipping, inch by inch, to the floor.

“You moved,” Jack says, “like someone who knows what they want.”

Robby watches your face. Your breath. “Do you?”

You try to answer. Nothing lands.

Jack is behind you. Close enough now that the air bends. That your spine straightens without permission.

“You want permission,” he murmurs.

You nod, barely. “Permission for what?”

"To stop pretending you don’t need this.”

“To be seen.”

Jack, a little closer, a little deeper, “To be told you’ve been good.”

You inhale sharply.

Jack leans in—his breath just behind your ear.

“You’ve been so good.”

You break.

“You’re standing still,” Robby says softly. “For the first time all day.”

And it’s true. You don’t remember when you stopped pacing, bracing, pretending. But you’re still now. Still and shaking and too full of something you can’t name.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whisper.

Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re not supposed to do anything.”

“Just stay,” Robby says. “Just let go.”

Your fingers slip from the locker. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. And when Jack leans closer—

“Say it,” he whispers.

Your voice cracks.

“Close the door.”

And Jack moves.

The lock clicks.

The air shifts. And you're not the same.

It’s not that it gets hotter. It just presses down—thick, charged, intentional. You’re not used to this kind of quiet. Not in the locker room. Not between them. Not like this.

You don’t turn around. You just stand there—heart hammering, breath shallow, arms loose at your sides—because the thing you’ve been circling for weeks? It’s not circling you anymore. It’s here. It has you.

Jack doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. You feel him behind you like a current. Stillness, held so tightly it hums.

Robby’s in front of you, leaning back against the lockers. Watching. Palms braced behind him. His gaze is steady—assessing, not predatory. Like he’s watching your vitals rise in real time.

You don’t know what you’re waiting for. But then Jack says—

“Turn around.”

You do. Slowly.

Your pulse is in your throat now. You’re not trembling, not really. Just over-aware of everything—the heat of your own skin, the way both of them are looking at you like they’ve already decided.

“Take off your top,” Jack says. Calm. Commanding. A tone you’ve only heard once before, during a double code. It made your hands steady then. It makes them ache now.

You peel your scrub top over your head. Fold it. Set it down.

“Tank too,” he adds.

You hesitate for half a second. Then you reach for the hem and lift.

The fabric clings slightly, damp from heat and wear. As it pulls over your head, the lace edge of your bra drags against your ribs—cool, sharp, suddenly too exposed.

You know they can see it now.

Robby shifts off the lockers, gaze steady.

“That’s not the kind of bra someone forgets they’re wearing.”

Your mouth dries out.

Jack’s eyes rake over your chest—slowly, deliberately—and when he speaks, his voice lowers.

“Take it off.”

Your hands fumble at the clasp, just for a second. It’s not nerves. It’s exposure. You’ve stripped down a thousand times in hospital locker rooms, but never like this. Never while being watched.

The lace hits the floor. You don't reach for it.

Jack steps in close enough to ghost his fingers over your collarbone. He doesn’t look at your breasts. He looks at your face.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this,” he murmurs.

Behind you, you feel Robby’s warmth draw near. He’s not touching you, but his presence is a second gravity. You’re caught in the pull of both of them.

“You’re not shaking,” he notes, voice low.

“Should I be?” you ask.

Jack’s eyes flicker.

“We’re not going to be gentle.”

Your breath catches.

Robby moves behind you, hands bracing gently on your waist, not grabbing—just anchoring.

“You want us to take it from here?” he asks. “You want to stop thinking for once?”

You nod. Not because it’s polite. Because it’s the only thing left in you.

Jack leans in. “Good.”

Then he kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s not rough either. It’s contained—all sharp control, jaw tense, mouth firm, tongue deliberate. Like he’s tasting you to see if you’re telling the truth.

You kiss back. Open-mouthed. Hungry. Barely holding your balance.

Robby’s hands trail up your sides as you kiss Jack, fingertips dragging gently over your ribs, your sternum. When Jack breaks the kiss, you’re already breathing hard.

“Bench,” he says.

They guide you to it. You sit, knees slightly apart, spine straight.

Jack drops to one knee in front of you. His hands go to your waistband. He looks up. “Yes?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

He slides your scrub pants down slow, watching your face. You don’t look away. Your underwear is next—low-cut, black, delicate. His thumbs hook into the sides and pull them down in one smooth motion.

Now you’re bare. Fully.

And they’re both still fully clothed. That does something to you. Something low and sharp and needy.

Jack’s hand smooths up your thigh. His eyes stay locked on yours.

“You’ve been so fucking good,” he says. “You kept it together all shift. Gave everything to your patients. Took nothing for yourself.”

He leans in.

“That ends now.”

Then his mouth is on you.

His tongue starts slow—flat, firm pressure over your clit, no teasing. No buildup. Like he’s been waiting for this and he’s not wasting time.

Your hips twitch, but his grip locks you down—one arm slung under your thigh, the other braced across your stomach, holding you exactly where he wants you.

You can barely breathe. Your hands scramble for something to hold.

Then you feel Robby behind you.

He climbs onto the bench, one knee beside your hip, chest flush to your back. His arm wraps around your shoulders—steady, grounding—and his mouth finds your jaw.

“Relax,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “Let it happen.”

Jack’s mouth moves with maddening precision—every flick, every circle deliberate. Not fast. Not gentle. Exactly what you need. Like he’s been studying the way you breathe for weeks.

You whimper. It escapes before you can catch it.

“Good,” Robby whispers. “That’s good. Let us hear you.”

Jack groans low into you and your hips twitch again. You can’t help it.

“Jack—” you gasp.

He doesn’t stop. His grip tightens. You feel his tongue change rhythm, pressure intensifying just enough.

And then—

You come.

It hits like a wave, cresting hard and then crashing down your spine. Your body shakes with it. Jack holds you through the whole thing—never backing off, never letting up until you’ve ridden it to the end.

When he finally pulls away, his mouth is wet, eyes dark. Controlled.

“You’re going to come again,” Jack says.

You barely have time to breathe before he stands and undoes his belt.

Behind you, Robby doesn’t move far. His hand slides up, slow and deliberate, until it rests gently at your throat—not choking, just there.

His mouth finds your ear again.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs. “We’ve got you.”

Jack pushes his pants down just enough. His cock is thick, flushed, hard.

He strokes himself once. Twice.

“You want this?” he asks.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“You ready to be fucked like you deserve?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your thighs go weak at the praise. It shatters something soft inside you.

Jack lines up. Grips your hips. Pushes in slow—inch by inch.

He’s big. Stretching. Real.

You gasp. Clutch his arms. He groans when he bottoms out.

“You take it so well,” Robby murmurs behind you.

Jack starts to move—deep, even thrusts. His hips roll, grinding against your clit every time. You can’t stay quiet. Not with the way he fills you, not with Robby’s hands on your skin, not with both of them murmuring praise you didn’t know you craved.

“That’s it,” Jack growls. “Take me.”

“You’re doing so well,” Robby breathes, lips at your neck. “So fucking good for us.”

You’re going to fall apart again.

“Jack—”

“I’ve got you,” he pants. “Don’t hold back.”

You don’t.

The second orgasm is messier. Sharper. It rips through you like a current, and this time, when you cry out, Jack slams into you and holds.

You pulse around him. He groans.

And then he comes—hips pressed deep, cock twitching inside you, a low growl caught in his throat.

The locker room goes still.

Your head drops back against Robby’s shoulder. You’re breathing like you just ran a trauma code—fast, uneven, body humming from the inside out.

Robby’s arms stay wrapped around your waist, anchoring you.

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing the edge of your jaw.

You nod.

Jack’s still inside you, hands gentler now—steadying your hips as you both come down.

“You did so well,” he says, quiet and low.

You exhale. A shaky laugh escapes—half-sigh, half-something else. Robby kisses your shoulder. Your skin still buzzes with aftershock when Jack finally pulls out.

You whimper—barely audible, not from pain, but from the absence. The sudden ache of being empty.

Robby doesn’t let you fold in on yourself. His arms stay around you, his chest flush to your back, his hands firm at your ribs. Holding you there.

“Easy,” he whispers, brushing damp hair from your neck. “You did so fucking good.”

Jack steps back. His pants are still open. His cock glistens, softening, but he doesn’t tuck himself away. Doesn’t move far.

He just watches.

Your eyes flutter open.

Robby shifts slightly behind you—just enough to look down at you from the side.

“She’s not done,” he says, voice quiet but certain.

Jack doesn’t answer. But the way his jaw clenches—you know he agrees.

“You okay?” Robby asks again, lips brushing your temple now.

You nod.

He smiles, slow and crooked. The kind of smile that means something soft is about to feel dangerous.

“Good girl.”

Your body jolts at the words—like your nerves haven’t caught up yet, like the phrase reached something deeper than muscle.

Jack smirks. “She likes that.”

“She loves that,” Robby murmurs. “Don’t you?”

You nod again. This time slower. Your throat is too tight to answer out loud.

“Up,” Robby says gently. “Let’s get you on your back.”

He helps you shift—guiding you gently by the waist as you lie back along the bench, your spine pressing into the cool surface, legs still parted and loose from the high.

Then Robby slides down from the bench. Jack doesn’t move. He stays where he is, leaning against the wall.

Arms folded. Cock still out. Watching.

Robby presses your legs apart with both hands, thumbs stroking gently along the inside of your thighs.

Then he lowers his head. Close. Close enough that the heat of his breath makes you twitch.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs.

“She’s a mess,” Jack says. “Made for it.”

You let your head fall back. Your chest rises, tight with expectation.

Then Robby’s tongue licks slow up your center, and your hips jolt.

He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t test the waters.

He dives in.

He eats you like it’s his job. Like he’s been thinking about this for weeks.

And maybe he has.

His mouth is precise — all tongue, lips, and breath — alternating pressure and rhythm, soft where Jack was firm, deep where Jack was tight.

You’re gasping by the second pass. Your thighs twitching.

Jack steps in, crouches beside the bench. His hand finds yours and grips it — firm, grounding — as Robby mouths your clit and groans into you.

“She’s close already,” Robby murmurs, not lifting his head.

“She’s been close since I pulled out,” Jack mutters. His free hand trails along your breastbone, tracing lazy lines between the soft curves of your chest.

“You holding back on us, sweetheart?” Robby says, flicking his tongue against you.

“No—” Your voice breaks. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” Jack says.

Robby’s mouth works faster now, tongue circling, flattening, sucking you into the space between his lips and holding you there while your body starts to shake.

“I’ve got her,” Robby murmurs.

Jack strokes your arm, smooth and slow. “Let go.”

You do.

The third orgasm rips through you. It’s a full-body collapse — thighs trembling, fingers digging into Jack’s arm, head thrown back. You moan loud this time, and neither of them shushes you.

Robby doesn’t stop.

He works you through it — mouth never letting go — until your legs start to twitch uncontrollably and your voice cracks from the noise caught in your chest.

“Easy,” Robby says. “That’s it.”

You’re gasping. Trembling. Raw.

Jack leans in, kisses your jaw. Then your mouth. Then your cheekbone.

“You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs. “You should see yourself right now.”

Robby finally pulls back, chin soaked, breathing hard. He leans in and kisses your inner thigh—slow, reverent.

“You’ve got nothing left to prove,” he says.

You want to answer. You can’t. All you can do is lie there, letting them both touch you, praise you, look at you like you just gave them something holy.

Which maybe you did.

You smile, lips swollen, hair plastered to your forehead. You exhale slowly, like your body’s still remembering how to breathe.

Robby runs a hand through his hair and rises to his feet, then offers his arm without a word.

You take it. Let him help you sit up, your legs shaky. Jack is already tucking himself back into his boxers, and zips his pants without a word.

He doesn’t wipe himself off. Doesn’t look away.

He moves like he’s still in it—like he’s taking every part of you with him.

No one says anything.

You find your clothes from where they were dropped and pull them on slowly. You don’t bother with the bra.

You grab your phone from your locker where it was buzzing, thumb hovering over the screen for a second too long.

9:12 PM – SAMIRA well??? did you kiss him?? is he weird pls tell me you didn’t ghost again girl don’t make me call the ER, i swear this guy is TOO GOOD to waste!!! if you’re hiding in a supply closet again i’m going to strangle you

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. “Samira’s texting me.”

Jack lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Robby leans in just enough to see.

“She really thought you were gonna make it to that date, huh?”

You snort, exhausted. “She probably already told him I got called into another trauma.”

Jack wipes a hand down his face. “Not technically a lie.”

Robby smirks. “You gonna tell her the truth?”

You lean back against the lockers, phone still in your hand, and exhale.

“What—‘sorry, got fucked on a bench instead’?”

Robby whistles low under his breath. “Yikes.”

“Bit much,” Jack agrees, but he’s not even trying to hide the smirk.

“Pretty sure you’re done with blind dates,” Robby says.

You slide your phone into your pocket, still smiling.

“Yeah,” you say. “I think I am.”

#the pitt #jack abbot #dr robby #dr abbot #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #shawn hatosy #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch #noah wyle #dr abbot x reader #smut

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digitaldaydreamm · 3 months ago

Note

For the helping out ‘unspoken claim’ could u do an afterwards maybe? like ever since then reader is sooo like wtf did we do and she tells him it’s better if they forget ab it and then when rafes all frustrated cuz not only is he like IN LOVE W HER but he’s also like sexually completely attracted to her so she goes like if ur mad cuz I didn’t give u head back I could do it now?? And he’s like WTF it’s not even ab that? It’s the fact that I’m in love w u batshit crazy?(in his mind) Ik this is long but this is soooo them omg😭😭

unspoken claim

rafe x childhood friend!reader

| summary | you tried to act like nothing happened...

warnings: cursing, mentions of a blowjob

a/n: i mixed this request with the one i accidentally deleted, i hope it's okay!! also i didn't add rafe admitting his love... yet. saving that for later ;)

part 1 part 3 masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

You didn’t think about it.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You kept things normal. Rafe was still Rafe. You were still you. Nothing had changed.

And if your skin prickled when he stood too close, if your breath hitched when his fingers brushed yours, if your mind wandered back to that night more times than you’d ever admit—well, that was your problem.

Not his.

So you did what you did best. You smiled. You joked. You teased him like always.

And Rafe?

He was going insane.

It had been three days. Three days of you acting like he hadn’t had you trembling beneath him. Like he hadn’t heard those breathless, wrecked moans of his name. Like he hadn’t felt your fingers tightening in his hair, your thighs squeezing around him, your entire body shattering under his touch.

You just carried on. Completely unfazed.

It was driving him fucking feral.

The worst part? You weren’t avoiding him. If you had been weird, awkward, shy—he would’ve known you were thinking about it just as much as he was. But no. You were still hanging out, still texting him dumb shit, still laying on his bed like nothing happened.

Like right now.

You were scrolling on your phone, one leg tucked under you, absentmindedly flipping through Instagram while Rafe sat at his desk, pretending to do something—though he hadn’t typed a single thing in the last ten minutes.

Because all he could do was watch you.

Meanwhile, you were completely unbothered.

And when you let out a small hum, stretching slightly before tossing your phone onto the bed, looking over at him like nothing was wrong—he finally snapped.

Rafe pushed away from his desk.

The chair scraped against the hardwood as he stood, crossing the room in just a few long strides.

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your ankle, yanking you toward the edge of the bed.

Your phone tumbled to the floor with a thud as you yelped, eyes flying to his. “Rafe—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His voice was sharp.

Your stomach twisted.

You blinked up at him, feigning confusion. “Excuse me?”

Rafe exhaled hard, dragging a hand down his face before gripping your wrist, yanking you up until you were sitting upright, forced to look at him.

“You’ve been acting like nothing happened.”

Your heart pounded.

Your lips parted slightly, but you hesitated—just for a second—before tilting your head, playing dumb. “Like what happened?”

His jaw clenched.

You swore you could feel the tension radiating off him.

“Don’t fucking play with me, kid."

Your stomach flipped.

You shrugged, forcing a small, nonchalant smile. “I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Rafe laughed.

The sound wasn’t amused. It was dangerous.

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, voice laced with disbelief.

Your throat felt tight.

You shifted on the bed, but he was still standing between your legs, still looking at you like he wanted to ruin you, towering over you.

“I mean… you were just messing around, right?”

Something dark flashed in his eyes.

His hand shot out, fingers gripping your jaw—not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath catch.

“Is that what you think?” he murmured, tilting your chin up. “That I was just… messing around?”

You didn’t answer.

And that only pissed him off more.

He let out a low, humorless chuckle, his fingers dragging down your jaw before he dropped his hand entirely, stepping back like he couldn’t stand to be near you right now.

You hesitated.

Then, quietly, you said, “Well… if it bothers you so much…”

Rafe tensed.

You bit your lip, suddenly shy, suddenly not able to meet his gaze as you mumbled, “…I could, you know. Return the favor.”

Silence.

Your face burned.

You had never said anything like that before. Not to anyone. Not even to Rafe.

And you definitely hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

You peeked up at him, nerves tangled in your chest.

Rafe was staring at you.

Not in the way guys did when they wanted something from you.

No, he looked—pissed.

Fucking furious.

Your stomach dropped.

“Is that what you think this is about?” he asked, his voice eerily calm.

You swallowed. “I just thought—”

“No. No, you didn’t think, sweetheart.”

The nickname didn’t sound teasing this time.

It sounded like a warning.

Like he was barely holding himself back.

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. “I just figured it would make us even…”

Rafe exhaled hard, tilting his head to look at the ceiling, his hands flying to his hips like he needed to physically ground himself.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying not to snap or trying not to laugh in disbelief.

He dragged a hand through his hair before finally looking at you again.

“Even,” he repeated, like he needed to hear it out loud.

Your face burned even hotter.

“…Yeah?”

Rafe took a slow step closer. His voice dropped, dark and slow.

“You think I give a fuck about being even?”

You stiffened.

You barely had time to react before he was right in front of you again, tilting your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“Is that what you thought it was?” he murmured. “Just some random thing we did, and now we’re supposed to trade favors to make it fair?”

You hesitated again.

Because when he said it like that, it did sound stupid.

And you suddenly felt really fucking stupid.

Rafe shook his head, voice still dangerously low.

“I don’t want a fucking blowjob, baby.”

Your breath hitched.

His fingers trailed down your throat.

“I want you to say something.”

Your lips parted. “Say what?”

His grip tightened just enough to make you shiver.

“That it meant something,” he murmured. “That you felt it.”

You were already shaking your head before you could stop yourself. “Rafe—”

His fingers ghosted along your jaw.

“You can pretend all you want,” he said, voice dark and sure. “But you know nothing’s been the same since that night.”

You swallowed hard.

He leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear.

“And the sooner you admit it,” he murmured, “the easier this’ll be for you.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

Because he was right.

And you had no idea what that meant.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #obx #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx kooks #rafe x childhood friend!reader #obx pogues #unspoken claim

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solrabi · 5 months ago

Text

“Do you even like me anymore?”

The sheets of bloodied tissue resting in your trash bin would make anyone think that an amateur murderess resided in your apartment. Lucky for you, the nauseating smell of rubbing alcohol and your boyfriend were driving you in that direction anyway.

Bloody and bruised, Sukuna winced as you dabbed antiseptic on a particularly gnarly gash on his bicep. “Of course, I do. Why’d ya- ow -ask me that?”

“I dont know, maybe it’s because you don’t listen to me when I ask you not to race those stupid criminals that hang around gas stations or it’s because I barely see you cause you’re off driving to another city for fun. You barely call or text—move your arm a little—Yuuji asks me how you’re doing, and you guys live in the same house. So, I’m sorry if I’m starting to wonder if you still love me.”

They say that the silence is the loudest sound to exist. It envelopes and engorges a person against their will. You can’t avoid it. No matter how hard you try to press your clammy palms against your ears, you are bound to hear its loudness. And you always hated that about it. You hated that silence with Sukuna was unbearable. Almost deafening.

The man was known for his mean streak- a plight you had to accept when both of you began your relationship, but you could only handle so much.

He was speechless after your tangent. What could he say anyway? He unapologetically loved what he did no matter how much you disproved of it.

“Look, y’know I can’t abandon my bike. I’ve had it since—“

“—since you were in high school, but that doesn’t mean you abandon the people you love for it. Get your head straight, Sukuna. I’ve been asking you spend time with me for weeks and every time your excuse has something to do with that damn bike or some street fight you plan on getting into. You skipped dinner with my parents for that stuff”

“It’s cause I had bruises from my last fight.”

“And what does that say about you?”

Normally when you had your hands on your hips with your face contorted angrily, Sukuna would’ve pulled you right on top of him, ignoring the pain all over his bruised body. But he had to look past the lust to understand why you were mad at him.

“Okay, I promise I’ll tone down the fights. But I can’t let go of my bike.”

You sighed and packed up the first aid kit, prompting Sukuna to get off your bed and follow you to your bathroom.

“I’m not asking you to let go of anything, you idiot. I’m asking you to be safe— something I’ve been asking you to do for ages.” Your eyes were brimming were tears, and you were worried that your next few words would come out through pathetic whimpers. The last thing you needed is to let him know how much he has emotionally affected you because of his actions.

“Okay, I promise this is the last time. Hell, I’ll even smoke less.” His hands trailed up your arms while you were still facing the cabinet.

Lies. Both his promises were lies. He had promised to stop smoking months ago but you could still taste the bitter tobacco in his kisses.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Like, should I go to the emergency room if I get hurt or-“

“No, I mean, this is the end of it. I can’t do this anymore.”

—

Might delete later.

Update: nvm, here’s part 2

main masterlist

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ninisdollie · 1 month ago

Text

Sad girl - Sim Jake 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

"In which reader is stuck being the side chick of an older, rich man, but she convinces herself that she likes it that way"

content: +18MDNI fem!reader x jake, older man!jake x younger!reader (both over 20, not age specified) kind of angsty, cheating plot, protected sex, dirty talking, oral sex (m recieving) fingering, corruption kink, humiliation, jake is kind of an asshole in this i’m sorry, reader is kinda dumb

i do not intend to normalize cheating with this story! i was just inspired by one of my fav lana del rey songs, entertainment purposes only <3

You stared at your phone, eyes sticked to the screen, your body laying down on your bed. You watched the time, 5:50, just ten more minutes and you could call him.

If someone had told you years ago that you would be involved in an affair with a married man, you would’ve laughed straight to their faces. You always hated those type of girls, who didn’t care about destroying couples by sleeping with taken men, you thought it was the most shameless, heartless thing to do.

Until you met him.

Jake Sim was the man of your dreams. A successful, renowned business man, Ceo of his own company, born into a wealthy family, impeccable physique, always wearing entire suits that fitted his body like a second skin, all costume made by the best designers in the country. He walked with so much confidence, posture always perfect, silver rings from the most expensive jewerly houses decorating his long fingers, and obviously, his wedding ring.

You didn’t know he was married when you first saw him (that gave no one comfort but you, he would always say) but when you found out you were so deeply in love that you didn’t really care, you were okay with having him, just a few hours a week, for yourself, pretending that you were his wife, that he was choosing you, even if that was far from being true.

Your relationship was weird, complicated, stritc rules applied. You would meet once a week, when his wife went to visit her family away from town until the next day, never outside of this schedule. He would always pick you up, but never before 6:00 pm, he was a busy man after all. You had to be always looking pretty, dolled up for him, he hated girls that didn’t take care of themselves, so he would always buy you the best dresses and make up, but obviously, you could only wear them for him, nobody else. You could never, never text him first, you always had to wait for his message, and he demanded you to delete everything after your encounters were over. You could call him when you were ready, but again, never before 6:00 pm, and you must never make him wait for you outside for more than 5 minutes.

Maybe it was a little bit extreme, but you understood, he had a reputation to keep clean, his career would be over if this ever came to light, and you were perfectly fine with any rules if that meant you could keep seeing each other.

Every week you would wait for the day to come, daydreaming about him in class, not being able to focus. He was your everything.

You just wished you were his too.

6:00 pm. You tapped on his contact, the tone ringing in your ear.

One, two, three rings later, he answered.

“Always so on time, my pretty girl” And you smiled widely at the sound of his voice, his beautiful Australian accent sending shivers down your spine, feeling the flush in your cheeks, getting up from your bed.

“I’m ready, Jakey. Will you be here soon?” Your voice always sounded extra cloy and high pitched when you talked to him.

He hummed on the phone, and you bit your lip, your heart pounding on your chest with anticipation.

“On my way, baby, wait for me.”

He hung up, and you jumped accross your room to pack a few more things in your purse, your lip combo, your wallet, and condoms.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, just making sure you were looking perfectly polished. Long hair resting on your waist, natural makeup decorating your delicate features, the white, lacy dress he bought the last time for you covering your body perfectly, you smiled at your reflexion, hoping he would like it, you couldn’t wait for him to shower you in compliments.

After exactly 5 minutes, a honk on your driveway. You walked through the door enthusiastically, running to the car and getting inside real quick, so your mother wouldn't ask many questions. He saw you approaching, his hair perfectly slicked back, his shirt rolled up to his elbows, no ring on his finger, he always took it off when you saw each other. He was the most handsome man you'd ever seen, such a beautiful, perfect face, his lips were thick, red, and he had the cutest smile ever. He always smelled so good, Sauvage Elixir by Dior, that was his signature perfume. You smiled at him, placing a little kiss on his lips.

"Hi Jakey, missed you so much" he smiled back at you as he started the car again, driving along the streets towards your usual hotel.

"How was class today, angel? You doing well? You know i appreciate you keeping up with your studies" and you nodded a few times, fixing the skirt of your dress and looking at the front.

"It was good, nothing much happened, i just couldn't wait to see you" He didn't respond, just humming quietly.

The car drive was short, you didn't talk much because to be honest, you never did. Jake said he preferred to keep feelings out of this affair, you two only meeting to do your thing, so he never asked you that much about your life, your conversations were usually shallow, and to be honest it was mostly you talking as he just nodded and hummed in response. Not because he was annoyed by you, but because he found your business immature, being much older than you and having real life problems. So you didn't talk to him about stupid things like gossip and issues with friends, because at the end, you knew he didn't really care that much.

As to the nature of your relationship, he never really gave you a reason to why he was cheating on his wife with you, you knew it was an arranged marriage, or something like it, but obviously he was lacking something, otherwise he wouldn’t be searching for it in you. He did told you though, that his wife was a complicated woman, terrible temper, and he made emphasis in that she would kill you both if she’d ever found out about your affair.

Other woman in your situation would feel used, humiliated. But for some reason you didn't care about that, it was good enough for you that he preferred you over his wife to satisfy his desires as a man. It made you feel good, powerful.

Silly you.

"Is that the dress i gave you last time? You look so gorgeous, princess". And you smiled widely, blushing, because his compliments meant everything to you.

Feeling your heart flutter again, you watched him pull over in the parking lot, and he got out of the car towards your door and opened it for you, immediately placing a hand around your waist, kissing softly behind your ear and you sighed at his closeness, not wanting him to ever let you go.

He walked you through the hallway, a silence full of complicity between you both, and you rested your head on his shoulder as the elevator went up to the last floor, the private suite waiting for you both. You reached for his hands, and smiled at yourself at the size difference, yours looking so small and delicate in comparision with his manly, veiny, thick hands.

Jake wasn’t very lovey-dovey to you, he just wasn’t like that, he didn’t act like a boyfriend, and you didn’t mind, because you knew loved touching you and noticing little details like those too.

"A drink?" he asked, heading towards the mini bar, once you were inside the room, and you nodded happily, sitting on the corner of the big, king sized bed.

He poured a glass of wine, whisky for him, and stretched his hand, you took the glass and sipped, feeling the hot alcohol burning your throat. Then he loosened his tie, closing his eyes as he cracked his neck, groaning quietly, this made your skin jump, the sound of his voice was enough to affect you.

"Had an awful day at the office today, fired a bunch of useless idiots." He sighed deeply, and you pouted, placing the glass over the nightstand, running your delicate hands through his torso, up to his broad shoulders, squeezing softly, massaging him.

"Sorry to hear that, hope you're not stressing too much" You talked with sweet voice, and he chuckled, grabbing your hand and placing a little kiss on your palm. Then he downed his drink at once.

"You will help me with that." You grinned as he leaned in, hand on your chin, crashing his lips with yours.

The thing with Jake is that he kissed you differently than boys your age. Hungrily, deeply, dirty, messy, as if he was an starved man. Warm, wet tongue exploring your mouth and teeth pulling your lower lip, it made you whimper below his, hot breaths colliding. He always tasted like cigarettes and whisky, his perfume's scent invading the air and going straight through your lungs, you loved it. It was addictive. As he tangled his tongue with yours, head tilted, his big, manly hands ran through your body, firstly caressing the soft, always shaved skin of your thighs, lifting the skirt of the dress you wore only for him, then going straight to your ass, squeezing, groping, and you moaned breathles as you fell onto the bed on your back.

He leaned over your body, between your legs, dress now pooled around your waist, your delicate, lacy lingerie in display, his hands now tracing around your inner thighs, and you whimpered again, lifting your hips, needing more of his touch, your skin starting to burn hot beneath his fingers.

"Always so fucking needy." he whispered with thick voice, his lips now lowering along your jaw, then your neck, sucking, licking, and you tilted your head so he could have more access. "Fucked you a thousand times now and you still beg for my touch so pathetically".

You bit your lip, moaning as his hands now rubbed your core above the fabric of your underwear, two fingers in your clit, rubbing, softly, tracing circles, and you couldn't help but arch your back desperately, already soaking wet as the jolt of pleasure went down straight to where his touch was, he always got you so worked up this fast, you couldn't resist it. His other hand went up to your chest, lifting your dress completely until your bare breasts bounced out of it, nipples hardening as the cold air hit your skin. He cupped them with his hands, squeezing softly, face now buried in them, kissing, sucking, licking, and you leaned to his touch as you gasped.

It was as if he knew your body perfectly, where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck, it made you twitch and tremble so easily, no other man had ever made you feel like that.

He stood up in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other traveling back down to your clother pussy, and you opened your legs wider, sluttier. He grinned, biting his lip.

"Oh, my little angel is feeling slutty today?" He chuckled thickly, slapping you above the clothes, and you jumped in your place, whining with broken voice. "C'mon, show me how bad you want it".

He let his shirt fell onto the ground, chest now bare in front of you, you could never get tired of him, his well maintained body, how the lines of his abs glistened beneath the faint light of the room, and you squirmed on the bed, shaky, clumsy hands running through your body until your fingers touched the lace of your underwear, and you pulled, leaving yourself exposed, swollen, needy, dripping pussy right in front of his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk, his eyes shining filled with lust and hunger. Jake lifted his chin, a silent order.

Looking straight at him through your hazy view, you rubbed yourself, spreading your folds and wetness all around your core, showing him how much you needed him right now. You whimpered, bringing your own soaked digits to your watery mouth, licking yourself clean, tasting your own arousal, and he slapped your thigh, hissing between his teeth. You bit your lip, your thin fingers now covered in your own spit, and you shoved two of them inside of you, arching your back and moaning his name high pitched, touching yourself in front of him, legs spread all the way, pussy swallowing and pulsing and clenching around your fingers as you thrusted them in and out of you.

"Fuck, such a dirty little slut." He whispered, and you nodded tremblingly, pathetic.

You saw him unbuckle his belt as his pants fell onto the floor along with his boxers, his thick, hard-rock, veiny cock in front of you, tip swollen and red and dripping with precum, he stroked himself as you kept your movements in and out of you, whining, telling him you needed him now.

"J-Jakey please, need you so bad..." Your voice was weak, begging.

"Shut up, not yet, whore." He grabbed your wrist with force, making you stop touching yourself. He was being extra mean today, you didn’t mind, you loved it. His rough voice speaked to you precisely. "Knees."

You obeyed almost immediately, even if your legs were shaking and you could barely keep balance, you fell onto your knees on the floor in front of him, his grip now sticked to your hair, strong, hurtful. You glanced at him from below, cheeks red, eyes sparkly, and he lifted his chin again. You looked at his throbbing, thick length in front of your face, and you wrapped your hand around it, not wasting time in sticking your tongue out and tracing circles on the head of his dick, whining at the salty tasted making contact with your taste buds, and you took a deep breath before loosening your jaw, taking him deep in your mouth until he reached your throat, and you sniffed, suppressing a gag, eyes watering. You loved feeling him in your mouth, the taste of his flesh, big, hard as you bobbed your head enthusiastically, taking him out and in again with ease. You've gained enough experience at this point, thanks to him.

"Fuck, such a perfect little mouth." He said between his teeth, sighing deeply as he watched how his member disappeared inside of your warm, wet mouth.

Then his veiny hand reached for you throat, and you choked around him as he tightened his grip, the cold silver of his rings pinching your skin, throat closing around his length, and he thrusted his hips. Your heart pounded faster on your chest, your lungs desperately looking for air, your face turned red as you felt the wet, warm, salty tears falling down your cheeks, and you shut your eyes as he face-fucked you at a strong, selfish pace.

“So fucking beautiful, crying as you choke around me. My good girl”. He praised and you whined around him, rubbing yourself against your toe, desperate for some friction.

He saw this and pulled back, taking his cock out of your mouth as you gasped for air loudly, sniffing through your nose, chest going up and down, vision hazy. He gave you a few seconds, eyebrow raised, like mocking you, but he kept his hand under your chin, thumb caressing you as you caught your breath. Then he thrusted again, deep, to the back of your throat, and you gagged around him, spit falling from the corners of your lips down your neck and to the floor, it was a mess.

Jake wasn’t very loud, but you knew the expression on his face when he was close. His jaw clenched, his eyebrows frowned, low, thick hisses between his teeth, his movements erratic, the grip on your hair getting tighter minute by minute.

You felt it then, warm discharge down your throat, and you coughed pathetically, swallowing most of it. He cupped your face and kissed you deeply, wiping your tears with his thumbs, his touch sweet, making you tremble and whimper above his plushed lips.

Then he lifted you with ease, making you fall onto the bed again, face now buried in the sheets.

“Lift your ass, babygirl.”

And you did, shakily leaning on your elbows you arched your back and lifted your hips towards him, perfectly curving your body just how you knew he liked it, chest against the white sheets as he grabbed your waist and you felt his weight sinking into the mattress, heavy, strong. The anticipation, the need, the desire were killing you, your aching pussy needing to be filled, leaking until it was dripping in your inner thighs.

Then you heard him unwrapping the condom, and you moved your hips side to side, an invitation to take you now, glancing at him over your shoulder, you fluttered your eyelashes with fake innocence.

“Don’t give me those big slutty eyes or i will fuck you all night until you fucking pass out.” Punishment or reward, you thought. You knew how to get him too, after all, he had a thing for ruining your much younger, naive being.

He put on the condom, kneeling behind you and grabbing your hips, you sighed, shutting your eyes as he marked his fingers on your skin.

“Please Jakey… can’t take it anymore, just fuck me please.” Your voice was broken, you just needed him inside of you.

Jake chuckled, mocking you, rubbing the head of his cock between your soaked folds, one, two times, teasing you, and you felt your thighs twitching, trembling, needy. Finally, after a few seconds, he slid inside of you, stretching your walls and making you sob as you grabbed the sheets in your fists, and your entire body shivered, pleasure taking you over once he started thrusting, hard, fast, deep.

“Shit baby, always so fucking tight and perfect no matter how many times i’ve fucked you.” His hand reached for your hair again, and he pulled so you arched your back even more, you moaning once he started fucking you so raw, so selfishly.

The skin of his thighs crashed with your asscheeks as he rocked his hips, the obscene sound combined with your broken moans and his low groans, you loved when he fucked you like this, as if you were his personal doll for him to use as he pleased, so you could only scream and sob his name asking him to please go faster.

“Slutty pussy so perfect around me, fuck.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, and you whined in response, your pussy clenching around him, giving you away, and he bit your ear lobe, hot breath as he chuckled, slightly breathless “You like that, yeah? You like being my personal slut, not giving a fuck about the fact that i’m married. You are so dirty.”

“F-Feels so good, don’t care, Jakey, wanna be your side chick forever…” He slapped your ass with his palm and the rings on his fingers stinged your sensitive skin, and you screamed high pitched as his thrusts became rougher.

“My pretty dumb slut.” He placed kisses down your back, not stopping his movements.

Then he pulled out and you were about to let out a cry at the empty feeling, but he flipped you over, back now resting on the mattress facing him. His eyes studied your face with a dark look in them, his hair was now messy and sweaty, and he grabbed your legs so you could place them around his neck, and thrusted inside of you again, the new position making him go deeper until you could feel him in every inch of your insides, and you screamed again. It felt so good when he fucked you like this and folded your body as if it was a feather, you turning into a broken mess. Teeth bit your thighs as he slammed his cock into your g-spot over and over, making you see stars, feeling as if your soul was leaving your wrecked, used body.

“Fuck, look how you swallow my cock baby, so fucking good.” His thumb went straight to you clit, rubbing, precise circles that made you whine and gasp, new tears falling down your red, flushed cheeks. “Will never get tired of how twisted your pretty face gets when i’m fucking you.”

“J-Jake, please…” Your voice wasn’t even the same anymore, just pure begging, weeping in it, and he grabbed your chin, attacking your lips agressively.

“You wanna cum, baby? You’re gonna cum all over my cock like the good slut you are?” You nodded desperately, the tension in your lower belly starting to build.

Skins crashed as his heavy weight fell over you in erratic, rough, messy thrusts, and you knew he was close too. His thumb kept rubbing your swollen clit, other hand gripped aroung your thigh until it was red and marked.

“Do it, cum for me, show me how good of a whore you are.” His hand now wrapped around your throat, depriving you from air and you opened your mouth as he spat, you choked on it, gasping loudly.

You came hard, crying, your whole body twitching, your back arched, and your pussy clenched around him so good, the orgasm taking you over in an unnatural way, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as the most obscene, pornographic scream left your mouth.

“Yeah, that’s it, fucking whore.”

Then he came too, filling up the condom inside of you with his cum, guttural groan leaving his throat, the veins on his neck showing up, his head thrown back. Jake thrusted his hips a few more times, prolonging his orgasm, now moving a little weaker.

He pulled out with a pop, and you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath and see clear again, feeling his body falling by your side. A hand reached for your waist, and brought you closer, you smiled as you closed your eyes and layed on his chest, warm, sticky skins together. His heart was racing too, and he placed a little kiss on your head.

You stayed like that for a while, silent, your pussy sore and pulsing, sensitive because of the strong orgasm.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he stretched his body over yours to take it on his hand, reading the message, no expression on his face. You didn’t ask, because it wasn’t your business, so you closed your eyes again, while his fingers traced circles on your lower back, fingers moving accross the screen as he replied back. You placed your chin on his chest, looking up at him, and he glanced at you from his phone, smiling softly.

After a few seconds, you broke the silence.

“I was thinking next week maybe we could order room service first?” You asked, kissing across his chest, filling your lungs with his smell.

His face changed subtly, and he locked his phone before putting it back on the nightstand, running a hand through his hair, he let out an exasperated sigh, and you frowned your eyebrows. He seemed to hesitate, his fingers going from your back to your shoulders.

He swallowed.

“I forgot to tell you, baby. There will not be next time”.

Your heart stopped beating on your chest.

“W-What do you mean…” You asked, your voice really low, you just hoped he meant that he would be busy next week or that he had a business trip.

He sighed again, his hand squeezing your arm softly, like trying to comfort you for something you didn’t know yet.

“This is the last time we can see each other.”

You sat on the bed, trying to find your heartbeat on your chest, feeling dizzy suddenly. This couldn’t be happening, he just couldn’t drop you just like that. You didn’t even noticed you were crying until the tears wet your cheeks, and he sat too, bringing you close for a hug, but you pushed his chest, looking at him through your watery eyes.

“W-Why? Did i… Did i do something? You don’t like me anymore? Please Jake just tell me i’ll do anything—"

“It’s not that.” He cut you off, and you freezed. “I’m moving back to Australia.”

And then you laughed, but not because it was funny, because of disbelief. He was leaving the country, in less than a week, and he didn’t even had the courage or decency to tell you. You just weren’t that important to him, you were just what he said, a dumb, slut, side chick.

You sniffed, getting up and running a hand through your messy hair.

“Baby…”

“Don’t call me that, Jake. Are you being for real?” Your arms fell on your sides, and you stood in front of him, naked, you saw how his eyes scanned your body for just a fraction of a second. Bastard. “You’re telling me, we’ve been in an affair for months now, and you just couldn’t even tell me that you were leaving soon? That you would leave me here—"

“Leave you?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shut your lips, staying very, very still, your blood starting to boil as he was the one laughing now. “I’m married, y/n, and you knew that from the start, you are not my wife, and i’m not your husband, and we both are very conscious of that fact, we knew from the start that these wasn’t because we love each other so much. It was pure, physical lust.”

You swallowed, more tears.

And then in hit you, of course, how could you’d been so dumb. Of course you knew he wasn’t yours, of course you knew he had a wife and that he didn’t have feelings for you apart from lust and desire, and the morbidity that the nature of your encounters caused in him. You knew all of this. You weren’t a teenager, god.

But still, a very, small part deep in your heart really wished that he cared enough for you, even just a little bit.

You were just so fucking dumb.

“This relationship had benefits for both of us, you gave me something i lacked, i gave you something you lacked.”

You widened your eyes, really wanting to punch him right now. But a wave of shame showered your body, your whole being.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me a whore now? I wasn’t with you because of your fucking patrimony!”

He stayed silent now, groaning as he grabbed his hair. He stared at you for a few seconds, and then streched his hand, holding yours, thumb rubbing softly.

“C’mon, get back in bed, let’s make the most of the time we have left.” He spoke softly, and you crossed your arms, feeling so ashamed.

“No.”

“Y/N…”

You sobbed again, now full crying in front of him, and he immediately got up, wrapping his arms around you and you hid your face on his chest, sniffing against his bare skin. That smell again, this was the last time you would feel it. He kissed your head, but it didn’t feel sweet now, it was mostly like he felt sorry for you. It made you sick.

“Just, know that i had a good time with you, princess. I really did, you made me forget all of the shitty things about my marriage and…”

You stepped back, wiping your own tears.

“Just don’t.”

A good time. Months being in love with him, wishing for him to text you, to go pick you up, to feel his touch, his kisses, to hear his voice. Months of you isolating yourself from any opportunity to have a healthy relationship with any other guy, to find what your heart truly desired.

He just called it a good time.

And your eyes opened, reality hit you right in the face. So you started getting dressed real quick, a numb look in your face.

He stayed there, just anylising you.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanna go home, please.”

One, two, three seconds of silence. He started getting dressed too.

You cried all the way back home, and he didn’t say a word to you, not even sorry, not even trying to explain himself. But who were you fooling, you weren’t the victim in this situation, you accepted this from the very beggining, never thinking of the consecuenses it might bring.

That was the last time that you saw Jake Sim.

Because the next morning, with eyes swollen from crying, vision hazy as you just woke up, the news hit you like a slap on your face when you opened your social media. And the tears came again once you read the headline.

“Jake Sim, famous Ceo, soon to be a father.”

#sorry if this has any mistakes #english isn’t my first language #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen writer #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #jake sim smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake #jake sim

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clownstillwritesfanfic · 4 months ago

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I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6,535

Warnings/Notes: plus size friendly, poc friendly, trans women friendly (except the bonus scene at the end), reader has a quirk

Disclaimer: This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.

Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.

———————————————————————

It was a Monday, few weeks after a majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.

The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.

“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.

“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.

“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.

“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”

There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”

A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”

“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”

Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.

“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.

“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.

“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”

Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”

Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”

“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.

“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.

Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.

Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.

You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.

Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.

“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.

“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.

Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.

Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”

“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.

“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.

“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.

“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.

You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.

You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.

“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.

“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.

———————————————————————

Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.

You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.

You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.

As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.

“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.

When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.

“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.

“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.

“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.

“You named it?” You asked.

“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.

Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.

“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”

———————————————————————

“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”

Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.

“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”

Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.

———————————————————————

The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?

You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.

You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.

You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.

You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.

Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.

It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.

———————————————————————

It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.

You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.

You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.

“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.

As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.

“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.

“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”

“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”

“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.

You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.

“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.

Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.

Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.

“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.

In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.

Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about

You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.

You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?

Bakugou scoffed.

Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.

You: never said you were <3 have fun lol

You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.

After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.

“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.

He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.

———————————————————————

Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.

He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.

“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.

“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.

“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.

Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?

“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.

“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.

“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”

“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.

“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.

“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.

“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.

“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.

“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.

“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.

“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.

———————————————————————

Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.

“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.

———————————————————————

Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.

Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.

You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.

“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.

“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.

“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.

Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.

He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.

———————————————————————

A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.

It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!

You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.

Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.

You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.

“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.

“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.

You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.

“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.

A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”

He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.

“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.

“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”

You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.

———————————————————————

Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.

When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.

“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.

There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.

You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.

At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.

———————————————————————

Bonus:

Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.

But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.

“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.

“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

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espace--positif · 6 months ago

Text

Focus and Distraction

A Zayne x F!Reader fluffy shortfic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: What do you do when you’re distracted by your partner’s arms when trying to work? Arm wrestle him, of course. Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader WC: ~1.5k Content tags: fluff, suggestive themes, arm wrestling, thirsting over arms A/N: Reader is better than me cause I personally would’ve asked to be put in a chokehold and dragged to the bedr— *gets shoved in a van* THANKS FOR READING *scrumpt through the cracked windows as the van speeds off*

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

It was a day as normal as any, with Zayne tapping away at his laptop, buried in his work, while you polished off reports and fielded mission requests on your tablet. Seated comfortably at his kitchen table, you both toiled away at your respective responsibilities. You’d often engage in this coworking practice — it was the perfect solution to your unfortunately busy schedules, granting you a chance to see each other despite it all.

And the comfort that his calm presence provided during your work sessions was no secret; you found yourself more productive, more motivated, and less likely to spiral into needless anxieties when your slate grew a little too full. You liked to think he felt the same, that you could at least make his work more bearable, though he’d never verbalized it.

But today, his presence was beginning to become a bit of a problem.

You see, it was a balmy May afternoon, and with the weather becoming increasingly warmer, wardrobe changes naturally followed. Namely, Zayne’s dress shirt, usually neatly cuffed at the wrist, was now rolled up, exposing his sculpted arms. It was a minor change, one that could easily be overlooked and probably went unnoticed by everyone else, but it was all you could look at right now. Consuming your every thought, as your finger hovered over your tablet, occupied by nothing.

“It’s not break time yet,” Zayne sighed with his eyes still glued to his screen, and you startled. The man truly had a sixth sense.

The timer-clock you’d purchased for him as a gift, in the shape of a cute tomato, sat between you at the table, confirming that you were indeed only five and a half minutes into your fifteen-minute work block. You frowned at its adorable yet accusatory gaze.

“I know, I know,” you replied, willing yourself to return to your reports.

But the rhythmic typing that came from Zayne’s side of the table called you, and it wasn’t long before your eyes were glancing upwards again. The small, almost imperceptible throb of his arm muscles as he pressed down on the enter key, a push ever so slightly harsher than his normal typing, had you captivated. You loudly tapped at your tablet, paying the endless words on your report no mind as you stared. If he could hear you working, then he couldn’t possibly catch you in the act, right?

But he did. Eyes darting up impossibly fast, Zayne’s gaze caught yours and you were far too slow to look away.

“If you need to take a break right now, we can do that,” he said. He’d always been understanding of the ebbs and flows of focus, and how uncontrollable those tides were. So when you would become visibly distracted, he’d be less rigorous with enforcing the schedule you’d both set for yourselves. Little did he know that he was the very reason that your mind was endlessly wandering today.

“Nope,” you said as your shifty eyes met with your tablet once more, only to find that you’d deleted the last five lines of your report in your blind tapping. Resigned, you sighed. “Ok, maybe I do need a break.”

A soft smile tugged at Zayne’s lips as he half-closed the lid of his laptop, directing his full attention to you. “Short walk or tea?”

You pondered your two choices for a bit before a glint of playfulness flashed in your eyes. You couldn’t suppress the smile that invaded your expression as you responded: “Neither. Arm wrestle me.”

Zayne raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Arm wrestle?”

“Yeah, you know, to refocus,” you offered. “Something about muscle activation, blood flow…”

You trailed off, hoping he’d have some explanation that could give credence to your odd request.

“Stretching one’s muscles is important to reduce strain caused by long stationary periods, and light exercise can improve blood flow, which is linked to—”

“Exaaactly,” you interrupted, which earned you the mildest frown, more of a pout really. But you had more pressing matters at hand. “So let’s do it.”

You gently swept the devices and papers that littered the table to the side before leaning your elbow onto the dark wood. Zayne stared at you for a moment, incredulous, but soon obliged, clamping your hand within his. His soft fingers were cool to the touch, yet the warmth that settled within you was anything but. For the sight you were taken with right now was even better than you’d imagined. The muscles of his arms were now fully flexed despite his gentle grasp, their chiseled edges sharp enough to cut glass. Yet the soft curves where the muscle dipped beckoned you, the outline of taut veins branching under his skin as he shifted his elbow.

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, satisfaction taking over. You’d already seen every part of Zayne, countless times at that, but you doubted you’d ever find a sight more perfect than this. It was the subtlety of it all, the way the weight of his muscle shifted with every small movement, the way his sleeves constricted around the girth when his elbows bent, the almost forbidden setting in which all these little details invaded your eyes and mind. You briefly pondered whether this was how Victorian men felt when they managed to glimpse a stray ankle in the ballroom.

“Ready?” Zayne said in that low half-whispered tone he knew you liked, and the smirk he wore let you know he was probably already onto you. Not that you cared.

“Don’t hold back,” you replied. If only he knew how much you meant it.

You gently tapped the table in a mock countdown, signaling the beginning of the battle. Three, two, one.

You braced yourself, digging your free arm into the table as you pushed. But your strength was met with no reciprocation — the fact that your joined palms remained in a standstill told you as much, and the barely perceptible twitch in his arm confirmed that he wasn’t even playing, not really. And the ratcheting anticipation that had built up within you remained an unresolved ache that bloomed in your abdomen.

“You’re letting me win,” you huffed, and he confirmed your suspicions with a smirk as he let you slam his arm down with a soft thud.

He chuckled as he softly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “There’s no fairness in beating such a distracted opponent.”

A flush crept from your ears and through your heating face. You felt silly for getting so worked up about something so banal, but part of you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Zayne was actually entertaining this. Seemed to be enjoying it, even.

“Hmm,” you hummed, bringing your free hand to boldly trace at the ever so slightly raised veins on his arm. “That won’t hold up in court. When I tell all your colleagues that I beat you at arm wrestling. Maybe I’ll post a moment commemorating my victory…?”

You trailed off, the delectable firmness under your palm, his muscles constricting and relaxing as you moved up his arm, the goosebumps you felt prickling at your fingertips, all doing nothing to quell the mounting thrill drumming in your core.

“In that case…” said Zayne before gently pulling your free hand away. And his next gesture was not so gentle. He effortlessly pushed up against your palm, teasingly letting up as your interlinked hands were upright again. You grabbed onto the edge of the table with your free hand, which you were pretty sure was considered cheating, as Zayne somehow kept your strengths matched while his hold on your palm somehow remained soft. And in an instant, the tables were turned. Your arm was roughly shoved down before you had the time to react, but you only had eyes for one thing.

You watched the muscles in Zayne’s arm ripple deliciously as he stretched his fingers, finally untangling his hand from yours. He let out a soft breath, something between a grunt and a sigh, relishing in his victory. And you were relishing in something else entirely. You let out a breathy sound of your own, much less intentional than Zayne’s.

“And that’s five minutes,” Zayne coolly remarked, as if nothing had ever happened. “Break time’s over.”

“Oh.”

“We are still working,” he said as he adjusted the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves, his taut muscles constricting the fabric with the movement. Thirty wanderers wearing top hats could walk through the front door right that instant and you still wouldn’t have been pulled from the sight.

Right. Work.

“Do we have to?” you pleaded.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “That depends. Are you still… distracted?”

“Yes.”

Zayne sighed, a voiceless exhale. But the twinkle in his hazel eyes, the half-cocked smile that tugged at his lips, and the soft tightening and releasing of his forearm muscles as his fingertips drummed the table top betrayed a palpable anticipation. “Then we should do something about that.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #dr zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x mc #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x you #lads zayne #l&ds zayne x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds #li shen #zayne fluff #lads fluff #espace--positif

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cupcakestreets · 7 days ago

Text

My Friend Made An Emmet Virus

So this happened a few months ago or so, don’t know I’m time blind, but this starts a few years back, specifically after Pokémon Legends Arceus came out. My friend who is a computer wiz, game dev, and number #1 Emmet Lover was absolutely devastated when they see Ingo was separated from their brother. I was not very familiar with the Subway Masters at the time and they were twins who ran the battle subway, and you would basically have to beat a bunch of people in battle consecutively to see them, which absolutely sucked for me because honestly I do not care much for battling in Pokemon, honestly, I’m really there to collect little guys and take care of them, so no wonder I never heard about them in the modern day. But they got me obsessed with them and we were absolutely sharing headcanons and angst about Emmet obsessively looking for his brother like every Submas fan was at the time. My friend who I will now refer to as EV, got inspired by the glitch Emmet concept to create a “haunted” version of Pokémon Black and White where the Emmet AI would immediately go “turbo” if you delete the Ingo file in the game. I thought that was a really fun idea, and we went back and forth on the story and concepts for it, but I being a shrimple artist knew nothing about coding, or anything thing computer related so I left them to it. Honestly, I thought they would’ve dropped it after a bit but, no.

EV worked tirelessly on this thing guys. Like pulled all nights and neglected their health to create this thing. I was very concerned for them and I told them to seriously think about their well being. They did not text back for a bit and I did not speak to them for like a month or so due to school stuff and I was also just doing my own thing. Then one day, they send me a file on discord. It was Pokémon White and all they typed under it was “it’s finished.” I will not lie, I was super excited. We talked endlessly about this and I was curious to know what they did with it. So I boot up the game on my laptop and start playing! So at first it plays normally, in fact I think I was tricked into playing Pokémon White, which it’s a good game, I see why black and white are fan favorite games. I even tried to play the battle subway, and it played like how it does in the actual game. This when I thought “oh wait, it’s like doki doki literature club where I have to go into the files!” Which is what I did.

In the files I saw the Ingo.exe and Emmet.exe files. Which I’m like “aw yeah. I just gotta get rid of Ingo.” I’ll just put him in the recycling and put him back after I get the full crazy emmet experience, is what I thought. That turned out to be a mistake that I will pay drastically later on. I open up the game and immediately the change is apparent. Instead of the legendary appearing at the bottom screen I’m greeted by Emmet, standing in a black void with the game music turned down really low, and it played in the distance. I thought it was so freaky and cool, I immediately went to tell EV that it worked! EV replied back with the emmet sprite emoji. And I didn’t notice it till later but they deleted the game files from our chat history. I went back to playing the cursed game and it just slowly zoomed in on Emmet’s sprite. Which if you’ve seen how the Subway Master’s Sprites look in the the first game compared to the second you would honestly find them to be really creepy, especially when they stand in the void and just look directly at you. When I clicked into the game your character immediately is inside the Gear Station. The music is the battle subway them but occasionally it’ll just stop, or take these long unsettling pauses. Emmet approaches my MC, and goes “Put Ingo back.” And I got chills because I will admit I was playing this at night like a creepypasta/horror obsessed fool and they were talking directly to me. Like the sprite was centered to be looking directly at me. But I press forward wanting to see what will happen. He continues; “This is not funny. In fact, it’s not very nice. Put Ingo back.” And dialogue options appear and you can go “Okay” or “No”. The No button was greyed out so I couldn’t press it. So I pressed okay. The MC was able to move freely after that and I left the building. I decided to explore a bit, see what else I can do. I talked to the NPCs and they all say “Put Ingo back” or “Put him back” and I even ran into a glitched Colress near one of the houses and he said “put him back.” This happened with a few other major npcs of the game when ever I moved around the map, they would just pop up all glitchy and distorted, everyone you would talk to would just say a variation of “put Ingo back” or “where is he?”. Cilan and his Brothers kept glitching into each other near the gear station, and their faces would turn black square. The rival character was all red and emmets text box would appear over him, saying the lines you get when you meet him on the double battle line. What made it extra freaky is whenever I would try to leave Nimbasa City I would land right back inside the Gear station, Emmet standing there looking at me, same thing happened when I tried to enter buildings. I think occasionally there would be these times where his sprite would flash on the screen enlarged and his eyes would look side to side like he was looking for something. It scared me and I think I couldn’t do anything else so I decided to go into the recycling bin and get the Ingo file. To my horror, he was not there. I started to freak out because I know I did not clean out the bin and I made sure to keep it open just in case. I went to EV and ask them to please resend the files, and they sent the emmet sprite emoji, again, and then sent gibberish. I told them that it was not funny. All I got was spam of emmet sprites and under it asking “Did you find Ingo?” After that I closed discord. But I was getting pings on my phone, and I ran over to turn it off.

I go back to my files and I start seeing my stuff being renamed. “I am Emmet” “where is he” “what did you do to him” “put him back”. I closed out of it to see my wallpaper was changed to a picture of Emmet’s sprite enlarged and looking directly at me with hyper realistic eyes. The icons on my computer were all turned into sprites of emmet and under it said “put him back” more sprite icons filled my desktop and they started to invade my entire laptop. My phone got the same treatment, my files and icons turning into Emmet, along with renaming things to “Where is Ingo?” “I am Emmet” “Put Ingo back”.

Needless to say that laptop was locked away. It was absolutely unusable after that. No amount of restarts or shut downs could save it. Tried to see if I can hook it to another computer to do anything and they just spread to that computer. That old phone? Replaced. The emmets started taking over that one as well. I deleted that discord and made another one. I think they’re looking for Ingo still. Which they probably won’t find him considering EV has the only files with Ingo in them. I don’t think they made it to my contacts list as I did not get any messages wondering what was happening with their phones, at least not yet. So yeah my friend made an evil Emmet Virus. I think I’ve had enough Emmets in my life time.

#subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #subway master emmet #submas #subway master ingo #subway bosses #glitch emmet #Emmet Virus #creative writing #creepypasta #an idea I had a while back #got the courage to write it now

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hadesisqueer · 17 days ago

Note

Did you see the interview where Akilah’s actress explains that there was a deleted scene where they were discussing staging the hunt and that something could go wrong and Mari offered herself to be the one to take Shauna out in case it was necessary (and Melissa subbed for her)?

If Mari hadn’t been the one to draw the Queen, do you think she would’ve actually been able to kill Shauna? Because each time she and Shauna were at odds Mari ended up getting her ass kicked by her.

Yeah, I saw the interview clip lmao.

And I think there's something here that people do not get and it's that Shauna isn't Terminator or Michael Myers. She isn't an unstoppable killing machine. The reason she's scary to the other girls is because she's more aggressive, and she's losing it more and more and she is willing to do more fucked up things than the others. It's because or her personality. Not because she's very physically imposing. She isn't. Physically, Shauna is a normal girl, not even particularly big, or tall. Lottie, Tai and even Mari and Nat are all notably taller than her. Is she athletic? Yeah, but so are the others: they are ALL athletes. She beat Lottie up, yeah, but Lottie didn't fight back: if she had, I'm not sure Shauna would've actually been able to do what she did. And Melissa was able to overpower her and could've killed her if she wanted to. So, yeah, in a situation where Mari isn't taken by surprise like the other times, catches Shauna alone like Melissa did and is actually determined to do so, I think she could have physically overpowered Shauna. The question here is whether she actually would've been capable of killing Shauna. And like Van, I really don't think Mari had that in her. Though that's something we'll never know for sure I guess lmao.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #yellowjackets season 3 #mari ibarra #shauna shipman #melissa yellowjackets #akilah yellowjackets #lottie matthews

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liivzen · 1 month ago

Note

Can you please write joel and female reader getting walked in on💙

Hiyaaaa!!! This was supposed to be out like a week ago but the draft for this got deleted and i got caught up with school work otherwise i would’ve had it out quicker and longer :))))))

This is my first Joel request so thank youuuu. I hope you like it!!

Mdni, 18+

——————————

Things were normal just a few minutes ago.

You were just working outside in the garden on your hands and knees, and the next you’re in the kitchen getting bent over the kitchen table.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened, you didn’t even hear your husband come in through the back sliding door. Joel had been working outside, fixing the deck you guys had to prep from the summer barbecue’s you’d plan on doing. Now he was bent over you, grunting into your ear.

“Fuck- come on baby.” He grunted, kissing the side of your neck and thrusting deep into you. You could hear the skin of his hips hitting your ass with every thrust, making you clench even harder around him.

“Ah-Joel!” You moan out to your husband, reaching behind you to grab his arm. He wraps that arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his sweaty body. You threw your head back when you felt Joels other hand reach down to rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Joel knew you were close too, you seem to be clenching tighter with every thrust.

“Yeah, come for me baby, almo-“

“Hey Joel I got that wood you w-Oh shit!” is all you hear before realizing Tommy just walked through the front door. You and Joel immediately separate and try to fix your clothes. You let out a yelp, face getting immediately red from the situation.

“Jesus Tommy, what the hell!” Joel growls at his brother, who now had his back turned to give you two a bit of privacy.

“Well maybe you should lock your door lovebirds.” He responds peaking over his shoulder at you two. Joel just shakes his head, grumbling at his brother. He walks over to him and starts to push him out the front door.

“Shouldn’t have to lock the door if you learned how to knock dumbass.” He tells him, pushing him out and locking the door behind him. Once Tommy is out, Joel turns around and leans against the door with his eyes closed. You walk towards him and grab onto his arms, pulling him towards you into an embrace.

“You think he saw anything?” You ask up at him, face still a bit red from the whole scenario. Joel gives a small hmm, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Better not have.” He tells you, giving you a small kiss. When he pull away from you he looks down at you with a smirk.

“Now, where were we?”

#joel x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #pedro pascal joel miller

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seireitonin · 1 year ago

Text

Dating: Eyeless Jack

Have to talk about someone besides LJ and Toby so here’s some EJ as requested! Sorry I lost your OG question whoever sent it :( Ik EJ has no “canon” backstory but the one I grew up with and the one that the fandom uses the most is the college/ cult one so that’s the one I’m using :3 also I hc EJ a bit different so yeah :3 I had to rewrite this 4 times bc the progress kept getting deleted 😭

After multiple years of living off human organs in the forest, EJ has lost most of his social skills

So he doesn’t really try

He just sneaks into peoples homes, takes what he needs and leaves

He set his sights on you. You were perfect.

Your house is close to the forest, you live alone, you seem to sleep pretty heavy

He’ll be in and out no problem

So he sneaks into your home, quietly. Not waking you

And he stands over you, looking down at you

It’s ironic because he has no eyes, yet the demon inside him lets him see through the dark clearly

He watches you sleep peacefully

Your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your perfectly placed features, your soft breathing

He definitely would’ve had a crush on you in college

College….the fact that you made him think of college, his old life at all in any way at all, he knew you were more than just a quick meal

So he left

What was his next step? Stalking you of course!

He watched you go about your normal days. Talk to your friends, eat your food and watch tv. Normal.

He fantasized about living normally alongside you

He didn’t ask for the life he had now after all, it was thrust upon him

Part of him almost hated you for being so carefree but he knew that wasn’t fair to you

Since he can’t be part of your normal life, you’ll have to be part of his weird one

He took you from your home in your sleep, only using the smallest injection of drugs to keep you unconscious

And you woke up screaming in his cabin in the forest

He hated you screaming at the sight of him

Not only because it annoyed him, but you’re supposed to be making him feel normal. You’re just reminding him that he’s a monster

“I’m not going to hurt you”

You stay silent for days you stayed silent and frozen in fear

Jack understands at first but after multiple days of your silence he gets angry

Part of him loved that he was able to take someone else’s normal life away like his was

After an unsuccessful hunt for food, he talks to you, upset

“What’s the point of you being here if all you’re going to do is stare at me?!”

You look at him silently still

“Say something to me! Anything! Just….talk to me like I’m….”

“Like you’re what?”

The first words you’ve said to him…

“Human”

You two start to talk. Not like you have much else to do

And after days of talking you start to weirdly get along with him. And you don’t even know what he looks like

He always covered head to toe, black clothes, black gloves, blue mask with his black hoodie covering his head. You were barely able to figure out he had brown hair because you saw one tuff

You don’t want to upset your literal captor so you don’t push it

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I…just don’t know what you look like”

“You don’t have to”

Jack is terrified of showing you what he looks like. How could he even explain his appearance. Talking with you has been the most normal he’s felt in years. If he shows you what he looks like…that feeling is over

“Please….”

He hears you ask softly

“No…you don’t need to see what I look like”

“You kidnapped me it’s literally the least you can do”

“……”

“I won’t judge”

“There’s so much about me I can’t explain. I… talking with you has made me forget about what I am. So please….let me savor this feeling”

You nod and respect his wishes

Then days turn into weeks and into months

And you ask again

“Jack, please let me see your face”

“No”

“It’s my birthday! This is all I want for a present!”

He legs out a sigh

“Is this really what you want?”

You nod

“Only if you take it off” he was fully ready for your look of disgust and screams of terror

And so you do and you smile at him as you take him in, his grey skin, soft brown hair that falls into his face a bit and sharp teeth oh and no eyes

“Why aren’t you screaming?”

“I don’t know”

Jacks been sleeping by your side since that night

You guys don’t call yourself a couple, but it’s basically what you are

But being with him isn’t all fun

When he had to hunt he comes back angry, not at you, but the fact that he has to do it at all

So he’s snappy, irritable and barely talks and he’s just not pleasant to be around when he’s like that

He hates hunting and feeding and won’t do it for days and only does it when absolutely necessary

When that happens the demon he’s hosting takes over and it’s terrifying

He gets much taller, he barely talks, becomes more animalistic and at night he just stares at you, like he’s trying to hold himself back from attacking you

He hates that you have to see him like that but he also hates hunting and feeding

When he feeds he will never do it around you

He’ll always go in another room but you can hear everything

You can hear the noises of him eating because he eats like a ravenous animal

You can hear his growling and panting and fleshy ripping noises as he tears into the meat of the organs with his teeth

He’ll come back to your bedroom blood, around his mouth, hands and the rest of him and you have to pretend everything is normal or he’ll get mad

“You think because I don’t have eyes I can see the way you look at me?! Stop looking at me like that!”

You can only look away

He can’t take you out like a normal boyfriend can because of the way he looks and it makes him upset

So when he sees you wanting to do normal couple things it hits a nerve

“You know damn well I can’t do that”

He’s upset that he can’t be normal alongside you and give you what you deserve

He tries to take you on walks around the forest but he knows you deserve more

He’s super possessive of you and keeps you by his side at all times. You’re the only thing that makes him feel normal

Even though he trusts you he always is watching you to make sure you don’t try to escape

Try to escape and there WILL be consequences

But hopefully it’ll never come to that

Jack sometimes gets really depressed about how his life turned out so sometimes if that happens he’ll just cry

Well, he’ll try to

The tar burned his tear ducts and he has no eyes so he’ll just make these heaving noises and they’re so sad to listen to

It’s so heartbreaking that he can’t do a human thing like cry

So you just hold him as he makes those noises, comforting him as best you can

“I wish I could look into your eyes, Jack”

“Me too”

He hasn’t had a romantic connection like this in years

His last romantic interest was Jenny the girl who made him this monster in the first place so sometimes he’s scared you’re going to somehow you’re gonna betray him

He knows he’s being paranoid though or so he hopes

On top of that he’s not good at communicating / being social at all since he’s spent so much time alone

So when he’s upset or angry or has a problem with you he won’t talk it out with you he just leaves or is quiet. Worst case scenario, just mean

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it so just drop it.”

“But-“

“Drop it. Now.”

He gets better with communication as time goes on

Although he still really struggles with it

He’s also not very affectionate so it’ll feel like you’re alone even when he’s with you

He doesn’t do it on purpose, hes just so used to not receiving affection and he hasn’t given anyone affection in years

After some talks he’ll get better with it

He really does love you he just doesn’t exactly know how to show it

But he tries

He knows you can’t leave the house with him so when he’s out, he’ll get you your favorite food, a trinket or something else you like

“Here. I know you like this”

He sleeps much better now that you’re next to him

He’s grateful for you

He really is. You didn’t have to open up to him and accept him but you did and he’ll forever love you for that

Since your actual house is close to the forest you actually take him back to your house and live with him normally

You watch TV together, lounge around and get takeout that he can’t consume so he watches you eat it and just laugh and talk

When he’s with you, he’s normal. You’re his normal. His home. He finally found what he wanted in you

Although it’s not perfect, you’re together and that’s all he needs

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #eyelessjack hcs #eyeless jack hc #eyeless jack hcs #eyelessjack #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you

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barbswo · 4 months ago

Text

THIAM prompt: “PDA”

They weren’t really big on PDA—public displays of affection, that was. Stiles knew that there was nothing wrong with that, after all, all couples were different, but.

They were Liam and Theo.

No, sorry, not like that.

They were LiamandTheo.

As in, together.

When Stiles first heard about it, he was still in Washington, and it happened during a group call they tried to put together at least twice a month, which was a real bitch to accomplish, counting different time zones and personal schedules. Stiles was peacefully organizing some documents, listening to Malia complain about weird french customs, when Mason let out a mocking whistle, and Stiles lifted his head.

Of course, he knew that Theo was hanging around Beacon Hills. He knew that Liam’s parents, being real-life saints, let Theo to stay with them, knew that the chimera got close to the Puppy pack (Liam still hated that nickname, but Stiles thought that it was hilarious and on point), but knowing and seeing were two very different things.

Theo never joined their calls, acted like he didn’t even exist, always silent, hovering on the periphery of everybody’s minds. Theo was the blurry picture one deleted before trying to focus their camera, a word in a dictionary with no definition attached. And now Theo was just there, shirtless, a towel wrapped around his hips, walking around Liam’s room like it was the most normal thing to do.

“There is a naked chimera of death behind you,” blurted out Stiles, and it was fascinating how fast Liam’s head whipped around. Laughter pulled the lines of his mouth when he turned back to the camera, shaking his head.

“You almost got me there.”

Stiles blinked. Frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

��Stiles, I swear, you don’t want to be around Liam when there is a naked Theo nearby,” grinned Mason from his square on Stiles’ laptop, Corey’s head on his shoulder. Even cut by the camera frame, they looked so disgustingly sweet Stiles wanted to lick their faces.

Liam flipped Mason off. Scott nervously chuckled on his end, looking away for a second, and Stiles felt like he had to fight for his life while putting two and two together. It was his thing—to know stuff. To see it before everyone else did.

And maybe it would’ve been more obvious had he been around more after Theo’s… resurrection?.. but instead, realization hit him in the middle of the pack call, and Stiles almost fell off his chair.

“For all that’s sweet and pure, Liam, are you two an item? And why is everybody acting like you knew, did I miss the announcement of Theo seducing our baby wolf, and why in hell—”

“You didn’t tell him?” Asked Corey, lifting his head. “Liam, you said you would weeks ago!”

“Weeks?” Squeaked Stiles.

Liam sighed like someone had deposited the weight of the world on his shoulders. “First,” he lifted his index finger, “not your baby wolf. I’m eighteen, thank you very much. Second,” there went the next finger, “us dating is our business, and there was no announcement, Stiles, for god’s sake…”

“You called me in the middle of the night and wouldn't calm down for two hours,” dryly reminded Mason, and somewhere behind Liam’s back, Theo scoffed.

“Two hours, really? That’s kind of pathetic.”

And hey, maybe it was a little bit pathetic, but Stiles still remembered how it felt when he realized that the girl he’d been crushing on for ten years liked him back, and he wasn’t the one to judge, not really. Even if the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers. Tastes differ.

But, because the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers, Stiles couldn’t help but take his sudden revelation with a grain of salt. After all, he’d watched the kid grow, and in some ways, felt protective not only of Liam overall, but of Liam’s heart, too.

And Theo was known for stealing those.

“Pathetic, huh?” Liam turned his head, presenting everyone with the view of his sharp jawline, “Says the guy who whimpered when I—”

A book that looked like it could’ve taken Liam’s head off if thrown at a slightly different angle hit him in the nose, and Liam yelled, waving his hands around to steady himself. That, unfortunately, resulted in him knocking off his own laptop, and the picture of his room circled around, blurred and went totally dark.

“Maybe they will kill each other and we won’t have to deal with their weird flirting anymore,” concluded Malia, and Stiles gaped at her.

“Flirting? You call that…” he struggled to get the rest of the sentence out by choking on his own tongue, “are you absolutely sure they are together-together, because that didn’t look—”

“Oh, we are sure,” Corey wrinkled his nose, “more sure than we’d like to be.”

“I second this,” chuckled Mason, and just like that, no matter how hard Stiles tried to circle back to the potential danger of Theo dating Liam, conversation shifted to the future summer break, plans, hang-outs and trips.

And honestly? Ever since that call Stiles couldn’t wait to be back home.

Not because of the summer break. Summer, of course, was good as a concept, and it highlighted Stiles’ freckles and made his skin strawberry pink while Scott paraded around with the most picture-perfect tan ever, and it smelled like ice-cream and all-night hangouts and freshly cut grass, and for some reason made Stiles’ dad smile more, as if all the warmth and sun brought him back to the good times with less monsters and cares.

However, Stiles had a talent for getting obsessed with things he didn’t understand. No, even better—he had a talent for investigating the things he didn’t understand until he could confidently say that if needed, he could write a whole book on the subject. It just happened so that currently, LiamandTheo made absolutely no sense.

Stiles recognized that his tendencies of going deep into the trenches of “observe, think, pin down, look, understand” weren’t… well, common. Normal kids didn’t spend their nights reading every article on hair follicles just because they were fascinated by how age turned black and red and gold into silver and wanted to know how and why it happened. In Stiles’ line of life and work, meticulousness never hurt anyone.

And it wasn’t that he thought Theo would go off the rails and slit all their throats one night. It was nothing like that. Stiles was stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Theo. He had countless opportunities to turn his back on the pack, yet he stayed—as Stiles was well aware, to drive Liam around and help him to do his homework.

Homework didn’t have an evil ring to it. Stiles could’ve subscribed to the idea of Theo being a chauffeur and a tutor, but Liam’s boyfriend? Theo Raeken? The same nine-year-old kid who once looked Stiles dead in the eye and said that he believed love was nothing but a concept invented by desperate people? The teenager who grew up in the sewers of dozens of cities and was raised by three faceless psycos? Same Theo who killed his own packmates because he was hungry for power before recognition?

Granted, Theo had changed, and Stiles even admitted it once, but still. Theo didn’t do anything unless there was something he could gain from it. His ever-calculating, manipulative mind would never allow him to be just selfless. It had been injected into Theo’s veins to be a perfect weapon and to survive no matter what, so excuse Stiles for not buying the cute-caring-honest-boyfriend act.

Liam certainly had a thing for mean people, but Liam was a freaking golden retriever puppy. He would let Darth Vader pet him. Stiles was not trusting his judgment, because while Liam wasn’t exactly dumb, love did weird things to human brains. Stiles would know. He was friends with Scott McCall.

Thus, upon arriving at Beacon Hills, Stiles started doing what he did best. Investigating.

And that was how he ended up glaring in frustration at his current dilemma. Also known as the pack’s movie night.

You see, Stiles was an awkward person, and he sure as hell couldn’t keep it together around his crush, but even after he did a lot of thinking and grew up, there was still a part of him that wanted to reach out to Lydia and just touch. Make sure she was real. That he hadn’t imagined her by his side like he used to do before Scott got bitten and Stiles was fourteen and helplessly in love with the most popular girl in school.

And Stiles wasn’t even a werewolf, or chimera, or—anything freaky. But he knew how it was when a lupine creature found a mate (the term tasted like pure cringe in his mouth, but there was nothing Stiles could do about that): scenting became a primal instinct, a tradition to follow of sorts. He was fairly sure every member of the pack started smelling at least a little bit like Scott on the second day of their summer break, because Scott was the alpha and they belonged to him (there was that cringe again, but Stiles’ entire life had become cringe so... whatever), but it tended to be even more intense when romance was involved.

And Stiles was starting to question whether there was any romance between Liam and Theo, because really—they didn’t act like it.

At all.

“No, we are not doing Lord of the Rings marathon,” Mason rolled his eyes at Liam’s offended face, “each movie is like, three hours long, Li, nobody has that strength of will!”

“Those movies are classic,” argued Corey, and Mason’s gaze shifted to him.

“You will be the one to fall asleep on me in twenty minutes.”

Corey sent Liam an apologetic smile. “That’s true.”

Liam let out an irritated breath and pulled Theo’s sleeve to get his attention. “Help me convince these idiots that the best saga of all time should be savored whole—oh, and we can watch the director’s cut, too!”

Theo threw Liam the most unimpressed glance Stiled had seen in his entire life. “I don’t want to know what the director’s cut even is. You and your nerdy brain should’ve really stayed home.”

Liam scoffed. “It was you who wanted to stay home, Theo.”

“Hoped to get a break from you, really.”

Stiles immediately felt offended. He, of course, believed that the best saga of all time was Star Wars, but he wasn’t going to argue on the topic, because his mind was elsewhere.

Now, sarcasm might’ve been Stiles’ first line of defense, but there was a balance between being sarcastic and mean. He wasn’t sure Theo got the memo of the said balance.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was expecting to change, having given the idea of LiamandTheo quite a lot of thought, but he certainly didn’t expect to encounter… that. Theo behaved like he was forced to be in Liam’s presence. Reserved, cold, irritated nine times out of ten, Theo was willingly waving red flags in front of Liam’s very nose, Liam turning a blind eye on every single one of them.

It was the first time Stiles got to hang out with not just Liam and Theo, but with LiamandTheo, and he didn’t like it. They ended up watching the first Narnia movie, (which was Lydia’s favorite, so Stiles knew it by heart,) and instead of keeping his eyes on the screen, he found himself studying the new happy couple. Or, “happy” “couple”. Quotation on both words for the irony.

And that was how Stiles discovered they weren’t big on PDA in the first place.

And listen, it wasn’t like he yearned to see the chimera of death sucking on the beta’s tongue. Stiles was many things, but a creep wasn’t one of them, and in his head, Liam was still a freaking baby. He didn’t even expect to watch them make out like the world was ending—but he was starting to think that they barely did at all.

There was no peck on the lips when Liam grabbed a cherry coke not only for himself, but for Theo, too. No touch of gratitude, not even a glance, just a dry “thanks” that must’ve escaped Theo’s lips by some gruesome mistake. They sat next to each other, but didn’t even touch—not their shoulders, not their knees, not even their knuckles. Nothing.

If Mason had kept his mouth shut during that call, Stiles would’ve never guessed they were something more than enemies turned allies. And it was messing with his head.

“Something is wrong,” blurted out Stiles when the pack started migrating to their respective houses, leaving him, Scott, Malia and Lydia in the McCall kitchen.

Scott, who was stacking pizza boxes atop one another in a way that made them look like the Tower of Pisa, turned his head, his eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Theo,” pressed Stiles, and Lydia sighed a small “here we go again” from where she was sitting at the kitchen island. Stiles passed by her, his hand involuntarily brushing over her shoulders, because it was the most normal thing to do and because Stiles was allowed, and nodded at the window. There, the Puppy Pack gathered around Theo’s truck, talking about… something.

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze and shook his head.

“I know you don’t trust him—”

“It’s hard to trust someone who did what he did,” snapped Stiles, “but it’s not his loyalty to the pack I’m worried about. It’s…” he paused, staring at the window. Mason and Corey, apparently, were giving Nolan a ride, their trio getting in Mason’s car and leaving Liam and Theo to their devices.

Technically alone, the couple didn’t try and move closer—if anything, they drifted further apart and, if gestures and body language were anything to go by, arguing. Liam’s side was pressed into the truck’s hood, and Theo was leaning onto the driver’s door, leniently responding to Liam’s remarks.

“I don’t think he is good to him,” he said at last, his gaze drifting back to Scott. “Liam.”

“Want me to punch him?” Malia lifted her head, and Scott shook his head.

“Nobody is punching Theo,” he looked at Stiles, “it’s their relationship. I don’t think we have a say in who Liam dates, Stiles.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “But you agree that if we had, Theo wouldn’t have made the list?”

“He changed,” spoke Lydia, snatching the last piece of brownie from the plate before Malia could swallow it whole, “I know you don’t like him, and nobody is forcing you to, but Theo is different now. More… real.”

“We thought he was real senior year, and look where it almost brought us,” mumbled Stiles, reaching out and grabbing the Tower of Pizza Pisa (ha-ha) before it could fall down, “look, I know he isn’t a psycho maniac anymore—but you can’t convince me that Theo has an inch in all 5’8 of him that actually cares for Liam. As in, wants to hold his hand and stare lovingly into his eyes and kiss him until the moon dies. You know, typical teenage romance shenanigans?”

Lydia chewed her brownie, looking thoughtful. “But do we think that Theo—and Liam too, actually—are typical teenagers?”

“Exactly,” sighed Scott, closing the dishwasher soap dispenser and pushing the door shut, “I can sense Liam in my head, remember? And he is happier than he ever was before, I promise. I don’t... really feel Theo, because he is an idiot and keeps pushing me away, but what I do feel doesn’t alert me—quite the opposite, actually.”

Stiles bit his lip, looking between his friends. He did trust Scott’s senses, but it was also true that Scott had been wrong before. Crucially wrong. And it was water under the bridge now, because they all found a way to move on, push past their offenses and differences and mistakes, but it didn’t change the fact that Scott trusted people easily and was as naive as a princess in a tower.

And Liam, obviously, turned out exactly the same.

Maybe Theo didn’t want to really hurt him. Maybe he had what he always wanted to—a pack, but he realized that he needed some sort of validation, admiration, actually, and twisted and turned Liam’s barriers until the boy fell in love with him. Liam always liked people who were mean to him. And had a tendency to fall for his anchors. Theo surely knew that and used it for his own advantage, like he always did.

Of course, there was no way Stiles could say his thoughts out loud without coming out as paranoid, and to be honest, he didn’t want to burden anyone with his raw theories. His dad always said that proof was steel that nothing could break, so Stiles would have to look for that before making further advances on the topic.

After all, it was summer break. They all deserved a little rest.

The problem was, Stiles was restless.

#i’m cleaning my notes and i found this #stiles stilinski #he really is a mother hen #thiam #thiam fic #theo raeken #theo and liam #teen wolf thiam #teen wolf #thiam aesthetic

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