#so i had turned to walk away but when i turned back his ass was standing there arms open doe eyed just staring at me

[kashverse]

Imagine someone making mama reader cry and minisukuna is just roasting who man her cry’s ass, while sukuna is trying to hold back from murder

i didn't wanna make the mamakuna's reading this cry, so have a bit of banter instead. i hope this is what you were requesting for!

rule number 1 in a sukuna family barbecue is to kiss the cook—aka mamakuna, aka you.

rule number 1.2? only babykuna and sukuna can kiss the chef. no exceptions.

but the most important rule—the one etched in stone, the one more sacred than sukuna’s secret steak rub recipe—is rule number 2:

never. insult. the cook.

so when yuki, choso’s plus one, decides to run her mouth at the absolute wrong time, saying, “not gonna lie, this chicken is kinda dry,” there is an immediate, deafening silence. choso, sitting next to her, freezes mid-bite, eyes darting around like he’s witnessing a live execution. nanami takes a slow sip of his beer, very wisely deciding he wants no part in whatever is about to happen. gojo, ever the shit-stirrer, grins and leans in. “oh-ho-ho, you done fucked up.” meanwhile, you? you just blink.

"oh?"

it’s just one word, but it’s enough to send chills down the spines of everyone within earshot. sukuna, who had been manning the grill (read: standing around looking important while you did all the real work), slowly sets down the tongs.

his jaw twitches. his veins pop. he looks two seconds away from committing murder.

"who made the food, yuki?" he asks, voice dangerously calm. yuki, still blissfully unaware of the shitstorm she’s just walked into, shrugs. "i dunno, the caterer?"

sukuna exhales through his nose, like he’s actively trying to keep his soul from leaving his body.

"your caterer is literally sitting right there," choso hisses under his breath, eyes darting to you. yuki, now finally putting two and two together, has the audacity to look sheepish. "oh. uhh…"

but before she can say anything else—

"DODOHEAD!!"

everyone turns to look at babykuna, who is fuming, tiny fists clenched, eyes ablaze with unwavering rage. "how dare you," she huffs, looking as offended as if yuki had personally spit on a framed picture of you.

"i—it’s not that deep—"

“SHAME ON YOU, POOPIEHEAD!!” babykuna stomps her foot, dramatically clutching her heart like she’s a widow in a soap opera. "mama’s food is the best in the whole world!"

"i didn't mean—"

"take it back!" babykuna demands. yuki blinks, caught between disbelief and fear.

"uh…?"

"TAKE. IT. BACK."

babykuna’s arm lifts. her grip tightens around the precious stuffed labubu in her hand. and before anyone can stop her—

"oh, hell no," sukuna mutters, finally snapping.

"you listen here, you ungrateful shit—"

"okay!" choso interjects, physically holding his brother back before this barbecue turns into a crime scene. 

"yuki," he hisses, “apologize before you get us both killed.” yuki, now 100% convinced she is not leaving this barbecue alive, raises her hands.

"okay, okay! i’m sorry!"

"say it like you mean it!" babykuna shouts, labubu still armed and ready.

"i mean it!!"

yuki, now sweating bullets, looks at you.

"your food is great. i love it. i’m sorry."

babykuna narrows her suspicious little eyes.

"hmph."

after ten long seconds of dramatic silence, she finally lowers labubu.

"...i forgive you."

yuki exhales in relief.

"but don’t do it again, dodohead!"

sukuna grumbles under his breath, still looking like he wants to throw hands. but then you, grinning, lean over and kiss his cheek. "down, boy," you tease. "i don’t need you getting blood on my good plates."

he grunts. “whatever.” but he still sends a glare yuki’s way.

“next time, i will let babykuna throw the labubu.”

[beah388love]

Dyslexia Problems

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: you and Lando both have dyslexia

Warnings: swearing, dyslexia (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)

You had gone golf with Lando and max for the day and they had randomly decided to go live on twitch. You was sat in the cart trying to cover your phone from the sun so you could read your text out but you huffed when all the letters were jumbled because of your dyslexia. “Lan? Is this spelt right?” You asked as you looked up to him as he held the camera.

He held his hand out and read your text but shook his head with furrowed brows when the letters were also jumbled from his dyslexia too. “Chat how do you spell neighbour?” Lando asked and looked at the chat to see the word repeated, some in caps.

“Okayyyyy thank you guys” Lando said with a little laugh as he typed the letters in on your phone and let you hit send.

“Thank you chat!” You said louder so they could hear you whilst max took his shot.

That was not all though….

Stupidly max asked you to read the subs out on the camera “thanks…uh- daivid? And thanks…kivy? For the subs” you smiled as you positioned the camera to look at max and Lando who were having a little play fight ending in Lando trying to poke max’s ass with the golf club and max running away with his hand covering his ass.

“Idiots” you shook your head behind the camera.

Chat:

User1: LMAOOOO THEIR SO FUNNY

User2: not y/n calling everyone the wrong name 😭

User3: ITS VICKY NOT KIVY 😭💀

User4: is she stupid?

User5: she’s dyslexic bro

You knotted your brows as you read the comments, “omg! Guys have I been calling you the wrong names?! I’m so sorry!” You gasped and slapped a hand to your mouth when you realised what the chat was talking about.

“Max! You take the camera! I suck at this job” you said dragging a hand down your face, “what are you talking about?” Max asked confused as he took the camera off of you.

“I can’t read the chat or their names…sorry guys” you said with an embarrassed smile “dyslexia?” Max grinned and you nodded “alright baby your turn!” Lando said as he handed you your golf ball.

“Thank you baby” you smiled as you took the ball from him.

“Y/n has really bad dyslexia guys” max explained as he read through some of the comments. “Yeah she hates it” Lando agreed with a nod of his head.

“You have dyslexia though” max pouted confused on why you hated it so much “yeah but hers is worse than mine and she loves reading but she has to use the text to speech thingy” Lando explained and max nodded “yeah she hates it” Lando gave a tight lipped smile but smiled when you walked over, he instantly wrapped a hand around your waist.

“Also chat- I didn’t wanna play this stupid game-“ I murmur to the camera but got cut off by Max “it’s a sport not a game” he corrected me for the 100th time.

I roll my eyes to the camera. “It’s a game.” I whisper to the camera making lando stifle a laugh.

……

This also occurred on streams…for example the time when Max was streaming with you and Lando.

You had somehow been given the job of calling out and thanking the subs..again.

“Thank you…uh- poopy?” I tilt my head and scrunch my brows as I read the username out and gasp when I read it again “sorry-! Sorry- I meant poppy..! Thanks poppy for the subs” I correct myself embarrassed

I hear lando’s laugh behind me as I’m sat on his lap, “Lan. it’s not funny-“ I roll my eyes playfully but he can’t help his laughs.

“Babe- you called her poopy?-“ he wheezes out whilst laughing, hiding his face in my hair from the stream. I shake my head smiling “I didn’t mean to!” I cover my face embarrassed.

Max is trying to bite back his laughs as he tries to focus on a game. He looks to the comments and bursts out laughing at all the jokingly offended fans.

I feel Lando squeeze his hold on my waist slightly “babe?” He whispers into my ear and I hum “mh?”

“Want your coloured slip thingys?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “no it’s fine..can you just read the subs out?” I ask and he nods “yeah.”

He continued to read the subs after that. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw the twitter posts the next morning…they did make me laugh.

…

Your dyslexia would also affect your texts…which were also pretty funny-

Lando was sat on the sofa at your shared apartment. max was also there but he was on the other sofa. Lando scrolled through instagram bored until he got a text from you.

Lando tried to read it and sighed, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He rubbed his forehead and looked up when max chuckled “what?” Lando asks

Max laughed “has y/n texted you?”

Lando nods “yeah- how’d you know?” He smiled confused

Max chuckled “cuz you look like your trying to read a different language” Lando laughed shaking his head

“Here you try and understand what she texted me.” Lando chuckled and handed his phone to max.

Y/N: Can yuo garb me smoe ciream?

Max knotted his brows as he tried to read it “fucking hell mate- how do her eyes make her think that’s right?”

Lando chuckled “don’t ask me.” He said as he took his phone back and texted back.

Lando: babe. I just had a headache trying to read that.

Y/N: gbra em some icremea?

Lando: it still ain’t spelt right babe.

Y/N: seriosly?

Lando: just call me. I cant keep trying to read this.

Max Fewtrell added to his story

Landonorris: I acc have a migraine after texting her.

Ynusername: blame my dyslexia not me ✋🏻

McLaren: you think her texts are bad..we have to deal with her emails!

User1: LMAO NOT MCLAREN CALLING HER OUT

User2: I WANNA SEE EM NOW 😭

Lewishamilton: relatable.

Ynusername: hey! Give me a break.

User3: how r her replies making sense if her texts don’t?

Landonorris: y/n uses autocorrect and speech to text to help her

Ynusername: idk what id do without it 😔✋🏻

…

This would also cause problems between her and her radio engineer, Fred.

“Freddie?” I ask into the radio as I hold the steering wheel tightly, going around a corner on the track.

“Yeah y/n?” He responds through the radio

“There’s something wrong with the uh- screen thingy-“ I say and Fred furrows his brows

“Uh- ya sure..? I’m looking now and it looks fine?” He asks confused

“It says I’m going at 013mph?” I ask confused as I ready screen on the car.

I hear Fred’s small chuckle through the radio “y/n- it’s your dyslexia. It says 103mph” he explains and I can’t help my embarrassed smile under my helmet

“Oh- I forgot about that. Thanks Freddo.” I giggle through the radio.

Fred chuckled “it’s fine. The cars fine though right?”

“Yeah- it’s fine. Just my dyslexia.” I giggle

I do another turn and sigh “Fred- what’s the gap?” I ask confused

Fred looks down at his screen “uh- Max is…0.845 seconds behind.” He reads and I nod

“Okay” I say as I try to remember the track in my head. I go to turn right but quickly swerve left.

“Shit- fuck- oops-“ I curse under my breath and I hear Fred through the radio

“What happened-?”

“I uh- I just forgot my left and right but it’s fine-“ I giggle quietly “sorry.”

Fred can’t help his laugh “don’t worry- just try to remember next time yeah?”

…

Or another struggle for you and Lando was cooking…

Lando was streaming whilst you and him baked or shall I say tried to bake a cake.

Lando was leaning against the counter, holding his phone with the recipe on it “uh- babe? I think we need help.” He says with knotted brows.

You look over to him “what? Why?”

Lando tuts as he tries to read the ingredients “I can’t make it out.”

You roll your eyes “lemme try” Lando scoffs lightly “okay- but I highly doubt you’ll be better than me.”

You try to read the ingredients and instructions but it’s all jumbled and messy “uh…never mind then.”

Lando chuckles and looks to the camera “guess we’re having pasta tonight chat.”

You giggle and nod “yup! Pasta it is.” You say as you grab different ingredients.

…

Lando, you and Oscar were doing an F1 game interview thingy for fun.

The interviewer had given you all your own white board. The game was that Oscar would have to guess the word that you and Lando got.

The interviewer smiles “okay- start.”

Lando and you look to the word on your boards. Lando tilted his head confused “uh…”

You also knotted your brows confused as you looked at the messy word. “Uh…lan? What does it say?” You whisper.

Lando chuckles “no idea..”

Oscar shakes his head amused “how the hell do I guess if you don’t know the word?”

Lando laughs lightly “uh- I think maybe you should do the word and me and y/n guess it.”

The interviewer giggles and nods “okay- switch if it’s easier”

Lando and you switch. Oscar chuckles “this is why we never let you two team up. You guys are awful together”

Lando nods with a laugh “two dyslexics.”

You giggle and nod “perfect match” you joke

[eddiesxangel]

Babymoon | Rockstar!Eddie

Summery: rockstar!eddie and pop!princess are back! The two of you take a much needed tropical vacation after having your baby girl.

Cw: smut smut smut, Dom!eddie x sub!Reader, established relationship, Age gap, oral ( giving and receiving), anal play (receiving), fingering(receiving), cum eating, creampies, slight breeding kink, use of mommy+daddy+sir, spanking, 2.3k words

“Hey, Mommy.” Eddie slinks his hands around your waist, pulling you in from behind. He has that tone in his voice when he wants something, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Yes, my darling?” you take the bait.

“We are finally alone” he kisses the side of your neck.

“Yes,” you can’t help but sigh.

It’s been 6 months since you gave birth to little Lila-Rose, and you miss her dearly, even if you and Eddie have been away less than 12 hrs.

This babymoon trip is long overdue. The white sandy beach, the turquoise ocean, and the cocktails were all screaming your name.

“You know what that means?” He continues to kiss your neck as his hands start trailing under your shirt to feel your skin.

“We have been here all of 5 minutes.” You can’t help but giggle. You want him just as badly but you cannot help but tease your fiancé.

“You’re just lucky we didn’t have enough time in the jet for me to be all over you, Angel.”

“Oh is that what I am? Lucky?” You turn in his arms, wrapping yours behind his neck.

“I’d say extremely,” he tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he leans in to kiss you.

You and Eddie are standing in the living room, making out like a couple of teenagers when Eddie’s grip tightens and pulls you in, encouraging you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His strong hands grip the meat of your ass. His hands slink under the rough fabric of your cut-off jean shorts as he walks you to the couch before he changes his mind.

“What’s wrong with the couch?”

“You deserve better”

“Oh is that right? Nothing to do with your old man body?” You giggle and he slaps your ass.

“Oh, you wanna play Princess? Is that it?”

“Yes, Sir” you bite your lip.

It has been so long since you were able to have loud and rough sex with Eddie.

You always were worried about the baby and Violet Rose hearing you and you didn’t want another incident. So very quiet sex was had until Eddie got the contractors in to soundproof the bedroom.

Eddie can’t help but moan and speed walks you to the perfectly made California King that was staged in the centre of the room overlooking the ocean.

You’re thrown on the bed and you can’t help but giggle. You watch Eddie strip his t-shirt, the little blacked out angel wings over his heart catch your eye every time he’s shirtless.

“Like what you see?” He smirks.

“You know I do” You pull him down onto you, the weight of his body delicately balanced above, but you wanted more. You want to feel him, all of him, on top of you.

“You’re wearing too many clothes” Eddie was ready to rip the fabric but then he would lose his favourite pair of shorts.

After what seemed like forever the both of you were finally naked on the bed. Eddie was trailing kisses as he made his way down your body when your phone started ringing.

You both stop and look at one another.

“Don’t answer it” Eddie pleads.

“What if it’s the girls?” You ask.

“Didn’t you tell them we got here safe and sound?” He asks.

“No, I didn’t have enough time, I was being seduced.” You raise a brow

“Fine “ Eddie drops his head on your lower stomachs in defeat.

“Hello?”

“Oh good you guys are alive.” Violet sighs.

“Yes baby, we just got here! Ran into some traffic.” You fib.

Eddie can’t help himself but start to kiss your stomach.

“Everything okay?” You flick your fiancée in the head.

“Ouch!”

“We are okay, is dad okay?” She giggles.

“Oh yeah he’s fine, you know how the elderly are” you smirk knowing you’re about to get punished.

“Okay, I’ll let you two lovebirds go. Stay safe, don’t get pregnant.” She giggles.

“Your dad says hello and he loves you. Call if you need anything okay?” You rush out.

“Okay, love you” you hand up and throw your phone across the bed.

“Elderly, huh? I’ll show you ‘elderly’”

Eddie flips you around as if you were made of feathers.

“Baby, no! I was just teasing!” you giggle.

“Your ass is mine” he growls and a rush of arousal washes over you.

“I’m sorry!” You plead.

“No, sweetheart, you wanted to play, we are playing.” Eddie's palm came down on your ass and it let a sharp slap fill the room.

“Hips up.” You whine but obey.

Eddie’s hands come down, interchanging between each cheek, over and over again until they were almost raw. Slap after slap your pussy swells as you can’t help but get wet for Eddie. He can see how aroused you are. Your clit is so puffy and pussy lips are so swollen, begging to be touched.

“Please touch me” you beg. The need for him was too much, now he was just being mean.

You squirm in his grip but he holds you down as each hand is placed on each cheek, spreading you out for him.

Your sensitive skink feels a single finger trail closer and closer to your centre. A sigh of relief relaxes your shoulders just a bit before you tense again as that finger collects your slick.

Eddie doesn’t say a word when he begins tracing your puckered hole with a slick-coated finger.

“Do you think you deserve it?” He mocks. Teasing your hole, over and over. Not daring to break the barrier.

“Yes, Sir, I’ve been a good girl” you cry, pushing your hips up further to get him to give in.

“I don’t know about that little one.” You feel him tease your hole a little bit more, pushing you to the breaking point. Only the tip pulses in and out of you.

“Please, I want you to fill me” you cry.

Eddie lives for when you get like this for him. It’s been a while since the two of you have play. He won’t give in so easily, the two have you just begun.

“Your wish is my command, Princess”

You perk up and Eddie is standing at the side of the bed. He guides you so that you are face level to his cock.

You smirk knowingly. Two can play at this game.

Slowly, you lick the tip of his leaking head, letting him see how your tongue coats his velvety skin. You continue the small kitten licks then start to kiss down the shaft, licking and kissing his cock, never putting it fully in your mouth.”

“I thought you wanted me in you” he huffs annoyed he’s not getting what he wanted.

“Can’t a woman worship her man?” You finally let his cock slide in.

“Shit” he grips the top of your head, pulling the hair taut. You hum in approval as you work his shaft.

His pubic hair tickles your nose but you pay no mind. You love having Eddie in your mouth, the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he fits perfectly down your throat, it’s like he was made for you.

Your hands trail up your bare breasts playing with your nipples while your mouth encased his solid cock. The sight before Eddie was getting him so worked up-no longer could he not be in you.

“Need you, god I need you right now”

You slowly release him from your mouth, and a string of spit connects your mouth to his cock before Eddie lifts your chin

“Open”

You stick your tongue and Eddie leans down to lick to pool of saliva off of your tongue before he sloppily kisses you. Tongues dance as he crawls over you.

“Need you’s” and “take me’s” are mumbled as the both of you get tangled between the sheets.

Eddie slides himself into you effortlessly as you lay on your back. His hand hitch’s your knee high and tight to your chest. His hips slowly rock into you, teasing you just how he knows you like until you’re begging him to fuck you hard.

“More” you tuck a piece of fallen hair behind Eddie’s ear. Your hand stays on the side of his head as you play him lower to kiss you.

“Louder, I want to hear you” his hips snap and you moan out.

“That’s more like it”

“Baby” your breath hitched.

“I’m right here, baby”

“Fuck!” Your body arches as he hits your sweet spot.

So cock drunken, your mind goes fuzzy. The only thing that consumes you is how amazing Eddie feels inside of you. How much you love and adore him. How much you missed this version of him.

Yes, you love all parts of him, especially when he is in dad mode, but you both needed this trip. You both needed to let loose and be together.

“Pussy so good, she keeps sucking me in” Eddie watches where the two of you connect and you take advantage of the angle to kiss his chest, then up to his neck. Sucking the thin skin, softly breaking the blood vessels beneath, marking him, claiming him as yours.

“Shit baby” he moans.

“Eddie!” You cry out. Your body is on fire, you can’t hold it any longer. “Please, I need to cum!” Your grip on him tightens.

“Cum” he commands, and you can’t help but listen when he uses that voice.

Your core tightens one last time before your released yourself onto Eddie’s cock.

He pulls out unexpectedly and you start to ask him where he is going when you feel his mouth on your pussy.

Eddie needed to taste how he made you feel. He misses the taste on his tongue.

As Eddie sloppily makes out with your pussy, you can’t help but grind into his face. His nose is at the perfect angle to run your clit on.

You hear him moaning as you use his face.

“That’s it, baby, we aren’t done yet. Give me another one,” he spreads your legs wider with one hand and circles your clit with the other.

“More, please more” You're so close.

“My greedy girl,” Eddie smirks. He knows exactly what you’re asking for.

He lets the hand that is circling your clit sink lower coating it once again in your wet pussy. He keeps going until he’s reached your puckered hole.

You feel Eddie’s mouth on your pussy once more when shortly after his finger starts to play with your hole.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cry as his thick fingers sink themselves into you. The pleasurable pressure that fills your lower half is sending you to another dimension. Your head is so high up in the clouds, that you don’t realize the noise you’re making for Eddie.

“That’s it, baby, sing for me” he slaps your clit and it sends your body jerking into your second orgasm of the evening.

“Oh yes, goooood girl.” Eddie praises as he watches the euphoria, he granted you, wash all over your naked body.

He let you come down as he peppered kisses all over your body, he worked his way up until he got to your breast and stayed there while he slip his cock back into you.

“So full” you sigh.

“You like how my big cock stretches your tight pussy, mama?”

“Yes, Daddy. ‘Make me feel so good.” You cry. You’re overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure that runs through you.

Pump after pump of his cock grazing that spot deep within your pussy walls has orgasm number three building up faster and faster. Long gone were nights of multiple orgasms. You and Eddie were lucky to get one in a week, with your new baby scheduled and all. Your body is deprived for months of bonding with your financé properly, how you want him inside of you at all times. The need and hunger for him have only increased since having his baby. Seeing him with her only makes you want to fuck him more, to commit to him, to marry him.

“Fuck, baby, pussy so good. I’m so close.”

“Yes cum, I want it so bad”

“You want me to fill you up, make another baby?”

“Yes, Daddy, please”

Your hips rock into one another, and your bodies mould into one. He kissed you with so much love behind it. Even if you were fucking, and not making love, he always kissed you like this right before he cums.

Not being able to hold out any longer you release at the same time. Your orgasms take over your physical being before you are both brought down to earth.

A breathy chuckle leaves Eddie as he realizes the sex you were just able to have and are going to have these next ten days in this sandy beach paradise.

“Wow,” you sigh. Your pussy filled with Eddie’s seed. You start to lazily make out with Eddie, exhaustion washes over you but you want him still.

“Not too bad for an old man… Can’t get enough, huh, mama?”

“No” you smile. “Let’s get married”

“Baby, did I fuck you too hard? There is a rock on your finger that already signifies I asked you that already”

You slap his bare ass. “I know that smart ass” you laugh. “I mean let’s start planning, I want to be yours. Officially” you kiss him again. Eddie can’t help but smile. The novelty of you saying those words never will get old.

“Whatever you want princess. I’ll marry you right here right now”

“We can’t do that to the kids”

“You’re right, I need our babies by our side.”

“And Wayne, and my parents” you poke his chest.

“Yes, yes, of course.” he kisses you again to shut you up.

“You trying to go for round two old man?” You giggle.

“You're really asking for it aren't you, Angel?”

“Mmmmmm, maybe” you pinch his tattooed butt cheek.

Safe to say you’re not leaving this room until the early hours of the morning.

Wildflower Tag list: @hauntedfawnn @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022

@eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303

@mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @Ima1986 @mimsie95

@straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak

@goodbyeghOst

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @abitchyouhate

[puckinghischier]

Jealous Nico

i struggle with this one bc can he get jealous? yes, extremely so. does he often? i wanna say no.

i feel like he’s just so trusting and obsessed with you that the thought doesn’t even cross his mind half the time, because you never pay people any mind. he knows he holds your attention, so why would he ever get jealous?

but sometimes…just sometimes, when you’ve had one too many drinks and your attention starts flitting around the room, looking for anyone who will entertain you to have a conversation with? he wants to scream “i’m right here!!!” at you. but he doesn’t want to be that guy, so he just lets you wander and mingle. never too far, though.

and as much as we wants to, the feeling that settles in his stomach when he sees you laughing with some finance bro over at the bar when you’re getting a refill is something he can’t really ignore.

maybe it’s the way you’re giving him so much excitement, clearly passionate about whatever topic is pouring from your lips. or maybe it’s the way this douche is looking at you, like you’re the brightest light in the room and he’s a moth that can’t escape your glow. whatever it is, it has him walking away from his conversation mid sentence, warm eyes turned dark in dislike of what he was witnessing.

as he makes his way through the crowd towards you, he realizes he can’t even be mad at you, because you’re just being the social butterfly he knows you are. all you want to do is converse and enjoy all the liveliness in the building, you’re not purposefully ignoring him. you were actually trying to talk to him a few minutes ago, but he was trying to listen to what jesper was saying before he got lost in whatever topic you deemed so important. so really, he thinks to himself, this is his fault, and he shouldn’t even be jealous in the first place.

but when you start jumping up and down slightly, clearly excited with whatever response you were just given, and douchebag’s eyes go straight to your chest instead of your ear to ear grin and bright eyes, he realizes yeah…maybe he can be jealous and a little bit of an asshole right now.

“müsli? did you ever get your drink, sweet girl?” he tries the sweet approach, not wanting to be overly gruff in front of you.

his chest puffs out at the way all of your attention is focused on him the second you hear his voice, forgetting all about the stranger in front of you.

“nico! hi! i feel like i haven’t seen you in….in….like…thirty minutes ago!” your words make no sense, a small hiccup making you giggle out an “excuse me” as you turn towards him.

he smiles down at you, your glossy eyes focused on his own, just how it should be.

“oh! frank, this is nico!” you turn back around to the stranger, his gaze raking down your figure, making nico see red all over again. you lean in closer to the man, cupping your hands around your mouth to try and whisper, but failing miserably. “he’s my boyfriend!” you giggle out, acting like a school girl talking about her crush.

turning back to nico, you miss the hard gaze he was throwing your new friend. “nico, frank and i were just talking about how fun it would be if there was a slip’n’slide in here!”

nico’s demeanor involuntarily softens a bit at your enthusiasm over the random topic, amused at how excited you are over the thought of a slip’n’slide in the middle of winter in new jersey.

but when he looks back up at your new friend frank, he can practically see the thoughts running through his head, and why he’s also be enthusiastic about the idea. if it wasn’t him ogling your tits earlier, it was the way he was checking your ass out while nico is standing right there.

“oh yeah?” nico speaks to you but keeps his attention on the man too lost looking at your ass to realize he’s being summoned into the conversation.

“yeah! tell him, frank! tell him what you said about making sure i’d be able to take as many turns as i wanted! that no one else would be allowed on it, because it would be my own special slip’n’slide!”

it’s endearing, really, the ideas you get in that smart head of yours when you’ve been slamming vodka crans all night. nico always loves to find out what theories and plans you come up with everytime you two have nights out. he’s thought about writing them down a time or two, because you never believe him when he tells you about the the next day, always claiming you “would literally never say that,” because you’re “a college educated woman, thank you very much.”

but this one? the one that has frank all but salivating at the thought of seeing you repeatedly have a wet t-shirt contest of one on a theoretical slip’n’slide? this one is just pissing him off.

“hmm?” frank’s attention is finally snapped away from your body and back to the conversation at hand.

“she was just saying how you told her how wonderful her own, special slip’n’slide would be, considering you wouldn’t let anyone else on it,” nico answers, letting his voice lower.

“oh yeah, dude. wouldn’t that be the hottest thing ever?” frank, so stupidly, decided to respond.

nico’s dry chuckle is the only response frank got. and either frank was smarter than nico gave him credit for, or he looks a lot more menacing than he thought, because the sound wiped the smug, disgusting smile right off of his face.

“frank…buddy….just walk away, yeah?” nico suggests, not used to being the scary boyfriend type but hoping it does the trick.

and much to his surprise, it works, frank nodding and walking the other direction, but not before you call out a sweet “bye, frank! it was nice to meet you!”

grabbing your hand, nico leans down to suggest it’s time for the two of you to leave, because he’s “tired of sharing you with everyone tonight, schatz. need my daily dose of hiding you away so i can get all of your attention,” while nipping playfully at your ear.

and, get all of your attention he does, considering you don’t stop talking to him from the time he gets you in the car to drive you home to the time he gets you settled in bed, behind closed doors, soaking up every second of not having to share your sweet voice. he drank it in like you were his own personal oasis in a dry and vast desert, just how he liked it.

[undercvrfan444]

Shy!reader who wears a different uniform skirt in order to get Bully!Satoru’s attention and it works a little too well. He starts flipping up the back of her skirt when he walks past her to ruffle her feathers a bit. (he might have snuck a picture of two of what you looked like under that fabric.)

Bully!Satoru who continues to write you small notes and slip them in your bag but they’ve become nastier than before. Having things written on them like

“What a shame it would be for those pretty panties to be torn open with my cock stuffing your pussy to the brim.”

or

“Don’t you know prancing around in short skirts is just an invitation for me to do whatever I want to you?”

Bully!Satoru who continues tripping you when walking in the halls. This time though, it’s because he wants to press his hard erection into the plush feeling of your ass. He’ll lean down innocently so people don’t suspect him, “been thinkin’ of that gooey cunt all day bunny.”

Bully!Satoru who comes over occasionally to “help with homework” and always starts the session off with bruising the back of your throat so you can barely speak the next day.

This way he can purr nasty nothings into your ear and all you’re able to do is listen and take it.

Bully!Satoru who steals your lunch forcing you to come crying to him. “Beg me real nicely bunny, and i’ll give your lunch back.” But when you embarrass yourself by begging him kindly he gives you the box back to find it’s been eaten leaving you hungry and disappointed.

Bully!Satoru who is called out all the time for somehow finding a way to talk about you to his friends. Suguru teases you about it too when he can!

“So you’re the pretty little thing Satoru is hung up on?”

Two dark eyes rake over the little uniform that adorned your body. “He wasn’t lying about you.” And with that Suguru walked off, simply leaving you with a dumbfounded look.

Shy!Reader who stops Satoru in the hallway the next time you see him with an aggravated expression on your face. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you pushed a hard finger into the man’s chest. “What did you say about me to Suguru?”

Satoru’s shocked face pulls into a coy smile, eyes narrowing so he can lean into your space. “Why? I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”

“What did you say Satoru!”

Hearing his name on your lips sends shivers down his spine, loving how upset you were. His voice dropped lower, seeing how many people were turning heads to see where the commotion sourced from.

His lips graze the thin skin of your ear. “I told him how good your pussy feels around my dick. Told him about the way your face would scrunch up when you were about to c-“

A sharp *Slap!* echoed between you. Tears pour from your eyes at the embarrassment, angry at the misogynistic things Satoru said about you. It was hard to think of all the things you’ve done with Satoru knowing he must’ve told Suguru at some point. It felt invasive.

Bully!Satoru who felt like shit after you left. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as you hurried out of school, away from the staring eyes. He knew he fucked up bad when you refused to answer his texts over the next few days, leaving him either on read or delivered.

He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. Saturday finally rolled around after you missed two days of school. The two days that you were gone felt like hell to him, whispers about what might’ve happened to make you slap him caused a certain edge to stick around. Satoru made his way to your house, knocking softly on the front door hoping you would listen to what he had to say. He could hear your feet pad up to the door watching the knob turn softly.

“Satoru?”

“Hi bunny,” his words are sugary sweet. You’ve never seen such an apologetic expression on Satoru’s face and honestly it was shocking to see him so flustered.

Shy!Reader who lets the Satoru into your house, reluctant yet willing to hear what he has to say. Truthfully you miss the handsome boy more than you’d like to admit despite him embarrassing you.

Bully!Satoru who follows you up to your room, pulling you against his chest with an “ompf!” the second he heard your door close. He’d never tell anyone this, but seeing you so angry with him ate him alive. At first he thought it was cute! The little attitude you wore was adorable until it morphed into stomach-churning disappointment aimed towards Satoru.

“I’m so sorry bunny, I had no idea it would bother you so much that I said those things to Suguru about us. The last thing I want is for you to think all I want you for is some stupid shit, let me make it up to you.” Softly his fingers curl into the smooth fabric of your shirt attempting to squish you further into him.

Silence fills the room like a thick blanket. Your heart beat rapidly against Satoru’s own; thoughts running wild while his expensive cologne wafted in your senses.

“It’s okay ‘toru.” slivers off of your lips before you can think.

Bully!Satoru who spends the rest of his day with you. First going to watch whatever movie you want to, buying every snack he could possibly think of even if you didn’t eat it just because he can.

You wanted to walk in the park? done.

Go browse a book store? he bought everything you touched.

Tired of being social? Satoru walked you home as he listened to you talk passionately about the description of your new books.

Bully!Satoru who begs for forgiveness through pulling your panties to the side and pressing sloppy kisses to your pretty cunt. Respectful pecks turn into haughty thrusts of his tongue, pushing your sticky walls apart. His moans tickle your thighs fervently while you squeeze his shoulders attempting to ease the building pressure in your lower belly. Satoru was a man after all, and he knew the cherry on top to his apology would be eating your pussy until slick dripped down his face.

Shy!Reader whose head was so fuzzy from the multiple orgasms, you let Satoru guide you into bed as the sun set. Once he’d finally cleaned up there was no stopping the rain of smooth kisses on your face. “I love you, bunny.”

“I love you to ‘toru.”

[raytoebiter]

viv. kick me (written work)

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It's 4:37PM when the harsh beams of sunlight finally mellow down to a mere soft glow that blankets the whole interior in a delicate color. It's also 4:37PM when you finally reach the café and the bell chimes emit a pleasant noise you're accustomed to.

“Oh, dear [Name]!” A voice laced with so much delight greets you, and you can only return it with a grin of your own, “how was school today?”

You slipped the snoopy slippers on, already dragging yourself over to your grandma whose arms are prepared wide and open for the hug that you've always looked forward to.

It never fails to soothe the tension in your shoulders when she rubs a particular spot.

“School was fine,” you sighed absentmindedly.

“'Is that so? Speaking of school, where's your friend?”

Your gut squirms in annoyance, frowning at the way her eyes spark up so childishly despite being adorned with wrinkles.

Friend, my ass.

Irked, a groan left your lips, “he’s probably gonna be here soon.”

The word, ‘soon’ sounds so bitter in your mouth. You just fought with the guy earlier at morning classes because–who the fuck even throws a dildo at someone's face!?

Your face burns, unaware of your grandmother chuckling in satisfaction until she's already pulling you near to the counter, “I'll make you hot chocolate, and after this, you can turn the sign over.”

Okay, do not think about Scaramouche. Do not think.

You gulped, urging the damn Incident away from your weary mind, “swiss miss?”

She grinned with a blink, “of course! Now, hurry up and sit! you’re gonna have a long day today, missy.”

Save me, you clench your jaw, god, save me from this 6-Hour-Shitshow..

Sighing, you deliberately and slowly place the phone back to the counter, head tilting abnormally to peek at the entrance of the café—and there he is. All in his glory, the Almighty Twink-A-Fuck.

You gulp. Deep breaths. Step. Walk. Step.

“Hey,” you half-assedly smile, lightly knocking onto one of the square windows on the door.

His hair bounces when he perks up from his phone, imperceptible widened eyes catching onto yours before it shifts to those narrowed eyes you're more accustomed to.

“Why the fuck are your doors locked.” Not a question. You shrug, already reaching out to the lock.

“Cats often get in here because they know how to open doors,” a pseudo smile reaches your lips, sweetness lacing your voice, “and ‘sides, I forgot you were coming.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. A bell chime fills the silence, and you step over to the side as he enters.

A bright shine catches your peripheral as Scaramouche enters into the café without a care in the world, and holy–

Is that a fucking porsche!?

You abruptly whip your head to Scaramouche—who seems way too busy absorbing the interior of your café as if the asshole hasn't already been here a week ago—before whipping it back to the Shiny Glamorous Porsche. Because, what the fuck.

Okay, listen. You're not exactly an expert in The Damn Art of Cars but a Porsche had been on your wish list for years. God forbid the amount of times you've ratted off of your grandmother's ears as a child about how much you've salivated over damn metas and engines. At this point, you'd probably rather fuck a vehicle than a perso–

—A gasp. Then, horror. Absolute horror dawning in those indigo eyes. And.. and mirth? The fuck–

“You do realize you just said those outloud, right,” he deadpanned, voice tinted with indifference and amusement. Like what you said was the most appropriate thing. I mean, then again, you've said far worse things, but god–in the café? Where your dearest grandmother is quite literally just meters above your head? And could potentially hear you despite the thick hardwood floors?

That thought sends electricity to your body.

Pathetically, you sputtered, alternating between defending yourself, telling him to shut up because your grandmother is literally just upstairs and reasoning that, hey, can't you just let a girl nerd out? Only to end up giving him the Fuck-You finger when not even a coherent sentence ended up leaving your lips after a mere 3 minutes of full on panicking.

..Yeah, get that, motherfucker.

“Okay,” he drawls facetiously, after seconds of radio silence, “So, you want to fuck my car. Cool. My car's cool too.”

I swear I will haunt this asshole to death when I become a ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up. I don't want to hear it. Shut up.” resigned, your hand points to a double boiler, as he lets his gaze unceremoniously follow it.

Again, he snorts at the quaint sound of water boiling.

Then, he turns back to you with a sneer and a knowing lint in those fucking goddamn eyes, “well, whatever. I'll be in your care then, fruitcake.”

–

“Number 12 on the counter, please!”

Okay. So, even though you thought the Twink Fucker implied to be an absolute nuisance roughly three hours ago, he's actually surprisingly decent in the field. He knows how to do a few latte art, can brew an Americano correctly at least, and is mildly, overall experienced at it.

And admittedly, the way he moves around the area would what you call a fucking graceful dance shitshow. Listen, you're not one to exaggerate, but hell if you don't admit that the asshole frankly looks like he's dancing around while brewing damn espressos.

(You can feel bile gathering up in your esophagus when you ponder more over the damn poise he has.)

Presently, it's been three hours since the shift had started, and you've done nothing but scrutinising the Twink-Ass with keen eyes as your grandmother had given you the task to.

And embarrassingly enough, it seems you're not the only one, guessing with how much habitués has been ogling the mysterious new face at the counter. You're pretty sure that neither of them has the balls to ask, considering they linger quite a bit longer in favor of inspecting the asshole’s face instead of asking for his damn number.

However, as time ticked by, an old lady whom you recognize as that one lady who sells adult toys on a sidewalk manages the balls to ask. However, when she does ask, she doesn't ask the asshole. No, no, she comes to you. With the most expectant shine in her eyes and a girl’s name rolling off of her tongue.

And you, who have decided to be the kindest, offer the old lady 10 numbers with a note that you managed to write behind Scaramouche’s back, “tell your granddaughter to spam his phone; he likes those things in a woman,” followed by a wink. It's clear she's a bit perplexed, but she nods anyway.

That's revenge for the fucking dildo, asshole.

Four hours pass, and the café finally settles down as the end of the shift steadily approaches. And it's then that Scaramouche finally and unfortunately breaks the streak of not talking to you for four hours straight.

He approaches with the same pseudo smile he offers to the customers and with a patronising tone, he asks, “so? how’d I do?”

Absolute dogshit. I don't want you here.

“I’ll send my feedback to grandma later,” you sardonically smiled, avoiding the question as you tilt your head to the short stack of papers on the rickety table.

His attention flitted between you and the paper all the while having his lips pursed into that smile before dropping his facade and clicking his tongue.

“What? Don't tell me you were expecting flattery,” you snorted.

In return, he grimaced, “ew, god, no. I don't consider your flattery to be worthy enough to brood over.”

Your brows raised, “careful, now. your job is quite literally in my hands right now.”

The grimace only deepened before it twisted to a scowl, “I'll just find a new one if you ever do fire me from here.”

“As if anyone would ever accept your nasty ass.”

“Your nanny did.”

“That's ‘cause she doesn't know what you're like in school.”

Incredulity coursed through his features before chuckling, the sound itself bitter, “you sound like someone that I really fucking hate.”

“You do hate me,” you answered, simple and true. Not that you were ever bothered by it; you hated him too.

Then, in a fleeting moment, his gaze flickered to you, a confused glimmer in them as his brows raised the slightest bit as he reluctantly replied, “no, I fucking don't?”

The fuck?

Your stomach twisted, feeling the familiar sting in the back of your throat, “what?”

“Not as much as I hate that someone, anyway,” his voice silent yet so full of resentment before a newly complacent tone replaces it, “Also, I dislike you, asswipe.”

Oh, okay. You frowned. What's the difference? Did the word, ‘hate’ have a much deeper meaning? Weren't they just the same?

“..Well, I hate you,” you don't miss the way his face dropped to a deadpan, “that one's really obvious.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter with an elbow propped on one of the sturdy machines, “really fucking obvious.”

This time, you respond with a glare.

In return, you get a disgusting tongue stuck out to you before he annoyingly decides to spare you the time and gazes off somewhere to the distance instead–blissfully ignoring your glares of daggers and muttered profanities.

Of course the peace doesn't last long.

"What's up with you and fucking Porsches anyway?"

A sigh, "please just shut up."

Then surprisingly, he does shut up. He did scoff though. Your gaze moved to the clock just right above the entrance.

9:47PM. Two hours left before your bedtime. You could wait it out and send the asshole home. But then again.. maybe you could overwork the asshole.

Under the guise of reluctance, you break the silence, “I’ll go clean up. We’ll switch from here, and then you can go home after.”

His head snapped to you, slightly tilted, “switch?”

“Yeah, switch. You go help grandma upstairs and I'll take care of the stuff from here. And, I'm pretty sure the pastries will be here at around..” you shot a glance at the clock again, noting the time, “twelve minutes from now, so off you go.”

As if contemplating, he narrowed his eyes before a smirk tugged at his lips and he tauntly drawls, “sure, whatever you say, fruitcake.”

A vein throbs in your temple. You could handle other names like dumbass, ass-kisser (???), fuckwipe, dickwad and other things you'd prefer not thinking about but this? It.. just sounds so..

“..Annoying. Fucking annoying.”

He rolls his eyes with a snort, already turning on his heels and heading to the staff room, “tell me something that's new, asswipe.”

"Back door's the exit for the staff here, by the way!"

The door clicked to a close, and you briefly wondered if he heard you or not.

..Well, nevertheless, you hope he wakes up with the most fucked up body ache known to mankind.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - nothing's gonna change my love for you by george benson

authors' notes - i tried my best in writing scara as VAGUE as fucking possible while also keeping the brandname of him being a fake idgafer💜 also you know those people who tries so hard to wink but just can't? i imagined that with [name]'s grandma and i just fucking cackled at the image lmfao

p.s - if u don't know the meaning of the song scara had on the last pic then i suggest u do a google search😋😋😋 gonna be a big ass foreshadowing

(ask to be added or removed)

[videokilled]

Vox turned away and dry heaved when Alastor threw up. His stomach weak even in its prime much less the pitiful state they were both in right now.

He pulled himself upright more. Then struggled, and just awkwardly crawled onto more solid ground where he could stand.

The warbling of the air was farther away but they were no where near safe. He grabbed Alastor by the back of his shirt and hauled him upright as best as he could. And was immediately aggravated by the apology.

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter. Get up.” He fixed his grip on Alastor’s shirt pushing him further along to get out of the muck.

Once they were both standing on hard ground finally- Vox let out a stressed and pressured laugh as he looked back toward the waters and once again saw an alligator creeping toward them. Still creeping toward them. The water around it jumping and rattling with the vibrations and hissing it gave off. It lunged at them just a second after Vox saw it. Rushing forward with its mouth hinging open. But stopped a few feet from them. Just hissing and then sliding back slowly. Territorial.

Vox screamed either way hurrying to scramble backwards and tripped, falling straight to his butt. But the thing backed off, so he hurriedly got back to his feet.

“I need a gun.” Vox said desperately. “Holy shit I need a gun.” He didn’t really wait for Alastor’s impression and just shoved him along to keep walking toward where he hoped the car was. Everything around him was starting to look the same.

After stumbling and trudging along for another several minutes in their mud lodged drenched clothes. The car finally did come into view. Vox desperately dug out the car key from his pant pocket and sighed when he had it in hand.

“Move your ass faster.” He hissed. He was shivering again from walking around in the clammy weather in soaked clothes. Vox was doing his best to not exclaim how much he HATED this area. It was carnivorous. The whole lot of it.

Vox had stayed looking behind them, still looking for more alligators. Wondering how many were lurking just out of sight. Alastor ran around this place barefoot?? How did the man die of gunshot with those things lurking.

“Not all morning.” He quickly chirped his correction over Alastor’s voice- which of course didn’t matter anyway. One because it was over and done with, two because the next second Vox’s jaw was colliding with the other man’s shoulder. And then he was pulled down by gravity until the ground punched him at an angle he didn’t expect— because it had been a hill. He couldn’t catch himself with whatever momentum was happening and then he was in water.

Thankfully it was nowhere as deep as whatever Alastor had fell into.

Downside was Vox was the only one that could swim.

“Goddamn you- you fucking—“ he started to hiss as he sat up in the near two feet deep water, then saw his companion no where at all. But the water settling where it had swallowed him.

“You muth’rFUCKER!” He spat with more vitriol in his voice than Alastor would likely hear in the near future as he punched at the water. Pulling himself up unsteadily. He spit to the side and shoved off some kind of foliage that was stuck to his arm.

No the other was not resurfacing. Goddamn deer kept fucking drowning around him.

He meant to cuss again as he pushed his wet hair back over his head, wading out deeper- but the steep drop off was unlike any terrain he had ever come across. He barely had a second to grab a deep breath before he was under water.

Opening his eyes underwater hurt like hell and he couldn’t even see. He just vaguely swam forward- and luckily or unluckily got wacked in the chest with one of Alastor’s flailing arms.

He grabbed his wrist and gave a few short struggles backwards till he could clamber back onto the shallowish area he had landed on.

Then hauled the other closer.

There was definitely more of the same noise. The water vibrating somewhere around them. Territorial even if they weren’t hungry. And the two demons were being anything but discrete.

Vox sputtered and spat. Then briefly making a wretching noise because the smell was making his stomach ache. He pushed his wet hair back over his head again to clear his eyes and make sure Alastor surfaced.

[scream4toji]

Hi I love your fics! Can I request make-up sex with Toji?

(thank you for the request 💕 sorry it takes a little while to get to the smut. Gotta build up the mood yeah?)

+ 18 only nsfw

The house always looks small and tight when you are trying to avoid him. After a heated argument, you give him the cold shoulder and squeeze past him in the kitchen while he makes a sandwich for himself. Your soft body slightly brushes up against his rigid frame. He purposefully didn’t budge to give you space to pass through between the island and the kitchen counters.

Your hand almost itched to smack his ass but you made a tight fist and walked towards the fridge, grabbing yourself a soda and making your journey back out of the kitchen.

He just quietly watched you struggle past him again, feeling a small tug on his lips which he fought off in case it pissed you off any further.

It had been 3 days now. Three days of sleeping on the couch. Luckily those 3 days were working days so they did pass by quickly. But today was the weekend. And only 11am. Time dragged.

And you felt it too. You woke up late hoping that staying in bed would kill some time but the queen size bed felt empty without him. Your mind just wondered and it was best to kick start your day by going out for a morning walk.

You got a lot done that morning because Toji wasn’t there groping you or humping you every hour on the clock. He had the tendency to let you know how much he wanted you. He restrained himself during the week just to give it to you ten times during the weekend.

Now you were missing his touch. His voice. His love.

You grabbed your iPad and sat on the couch to do some reading or mindless scrolling to keep yourself distracted. But it was hard when he was always there, in your face. You noticed him from the corner of your eyes as he entered the living room and sat down on the couch beside you, taking a huge bite of his sandwich and flipping on the TV. The soft cushions shifted as his large frame occupied the seat beside you. You try to ignore him and focus on your screen. He purposefully makes it hard for you to focus and continues to shuffle, irritating your last nerves.

“Would you quit with this fidgeting!”, you snap at him.

“Cant get comfortable with a hard-on”, he explained, spreading his legs out to give his crotch some space.

You roll your eyes and set your iPad aside. “Is that your way of apologizing?”

“Nah. I just answered your question. I didn't ask ya to suck me off. Unless ya wanna?”, he grinned and took another bite of his sandwich while closely observing you.

You narrow your eyes, letting him know you won't be the first to cave. Not until he apologized first. Oh, you can't even remember what the argument was about anymore. You just want someone to apologize so both of you can get back to your regular Saturday program, fucking like rabbits.

But he won't apologize. His ego was too bloated it gave you heartburn.

You can't be around him. You were this close to caving in, his clothed erection making it more difficult to stay committed to your resolve. Just when you were about to get up and leave, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. “Sorry”, you heard him mumble.

“What was that?”, you turn around and ask.

While still holding the sandwich in one hand, he undid the buttons to his tight pants and popped out his hard dick to give it some room to breathe. “Me and my dick give. Sorry”, he grinned while shamelessly stroking his cock in front of you.

His apology didn't seem genuine. But he could never hide the fact that he needed you.

You slowly straddle his lap, careful of his dancing cock and wrap your arms around his neck. You gave him one of the most starved kisses possible, almost ready to rip his lips off. His one hand rests on the small of your back and his other still carried the half eaten sandwich. He returned your kiss with just as much ferociousness, both of your angers slowly dissolving away with each passing minute.

You finally peel away from his saliva coated lips to catch your breath. His exposed cock was nicely snuggled between both your bellies and the rubbing friction excited it to the point of leaking some pre.

You stand up to pull down your leggings and your panties all at once. You spread your legs to reveal your soaked pussy lips. Toji takes another bite of his sandwich and slowly guides you on top of him.

“Ugh why are you so thick down there”, you let out a groan from discomfort as you try to sit on his cock. His veiny girth stretches your opening and you only got pass the tip.

“Shoulda let me fuck ya in the middle of the week. Hump day on hump day”, he joked, guiding you by the hips onto his length.

It doesn't take long for your body to relax and recognize his invading cock. You take nice deep breaths, your previous anger and anxiety had you tensed up. Toji massaged up and down your spine with one hand, trying to get you to relax around him.

“Not complain’ though. Tight as a virgin today”, he commented.

You just brush off his remarks and slowly start to move your hips up and down, feeling your body relaxing further with each thrust.

Toji took one final big bite of his sandwich and wrapped his hands around your waist to power back at you with raw strength. You arch your back as he hits all the right spots and has you cumming within a matter of minutes.

“Babe you outta let me fuck you during the week. Ya loosin’ the stamina”, he suggests while still hammering away into your fluttering cunt.

You are still convulsing on top of him and he pulls you into his chest, hugging you protectively and apologetically, his hips not stopping for a single moment. He had to make up for the lost time.

“‘m sorry...doll. Le’s not.....fight.…again”, he managed to scramble out of his mouth before painting your insides a nice shade of white.

You think that was all it took? It was a five hour apology. He apologized in the kitchen. In the shower. On the balcony. In the car as you went to grab some take-out lunch because you burnt the fish because he was fucking you mad. And finally the apology ended up on the bed. He had you on your back, fingers interlaced above your head and he went at a slower pace this time. His sensitive red cock was ready for a break. So was your sore sloppy cum drippin’ pussy.

“Oh, did i say ‘m sorry?”, he asked between his gentle casual hip thrusts and sweet tender kisses.

“Hmmm like five times”, you mentally counted how many times he came inside or on you.

[strang3lov3]

Boys Will Be Boys

You hit Roman where it hurts. Meaning you fuck his dad as he watches and cries.

Tags - dubcon, girthy age gap (80/???), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, creampie, masturbation, sexual harassment/assault (Roman’s punished for it, and I kept it short and sweet), unsolicited dick pics, roman roy gets cucked by his father, osteoarthritis, hypertension, logan roy dirty talk, logan roy takes viagra, coercion, tears and mucus as lube, almost?subby?romey??? lowkey...logan roy is kinda a fuckin' stud. uhhhhh…idk. kinda grotesque. you have to embrace it. crack fic adjacent, but this is serious business to me. you’ve been warned.

A/N - you know what you’re fucking here for. maybe it’s morbid curiosity. maybe you wanna see roman roy crying while masturbating. maybe…maybe you wanna fuck that old man. it’s ok if you do. i won’t tell on you, you fucking pervert. enjoy Logan Roy screwing your brains out <3 I tagged my romey readers, and while i implore you to be brave, don't feel pressured to read if it's not your thing. @beefrobeefcal thank you for the beta hot stuff! i love you so much.

It’s been happening for a while now.

It was just small things at first. A little comment here and there. He told you that you had nice legs the first time you wore a skirt, said something else about loving a long-legged woman. Then he asked if you shaved for him, too. What else do you shave, huh? Are you bare everywhere? 

The little tattoo on your wrist, usually hidden by your blouse. What’s that about, huh? Got any other tattoos? Perhaps in a more private place? If I guess where it’s at, can I see it?

Oh, the way you got flustered. Your eyes went wide, mouth dropped open a little. Too easy. Roman took that as a challenge - an invitation, rather, to take it up a notch. 

He turned up the heat in his office to a balmy 75℉ the week after that. After each time you’d turn the thermostat down a few notches, Roman would use a little remote he’d point at it to turn it right back up. Must be busted, Roman told you. How about you call maintenance, huh, assistant? Maybe do your fucking job for once?

Roman watched with a crooked smirk on his lips as you slipped off your cardigan, exposing your body to him. That pretty nude camisole. Roman sidled up behind you, fingers skating over your shoulders until he reached the strap of your bra. Your blood went cold as he wriggled his fingers beneath them, then pulled up, up, and snickered as he let them snap your skin harshly. Nobody else had done that to you since junior high.

In the elevator, he stands too close. While riding up the many floors of the tall building, Roman fucking breathes on you, and follows you when you inch away from him. Your skin prickles when he touches your lower back, fingers drumming against you, walking down your waist. He’d first started by testing you with a little pinch on your ass cheek, just to watch you jump and hear that startled little squeak you’d make. He gropes your ass now, squeezing a handful of it, kneading his fingers. He loves the visible discomfort on your face, and knowing you can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Harrassing you is the best part of Roman’s job. It’s why he wakes up in the morning, getting to exert that power over you. It fills him with a sick sense of satisfaction, of delight. 

Your phone is full of photos of his cock. Lawsuit material, if you were brave enough to go up against Roman and Waystar and all of its bells and whistles. Roman tells you his lawyers would eat you alive before you even step foot into a courtroom. 

It was late last Saturday night when Roman texted you a picture of his crotch, cock visibly hard under his slacks, outlined in sharp detail.

10:07 - Got a job for you. Wanna help out the boss?  

Every notification on your phone with Roman’s name attached makes you want to puke. You wish you could ignore him. Block him.

10:07 - No, Roman. 

You waited with bated breath for Roman’s response, the little dancing ellipsis on the screen mocking you as he formulated a text back. How’s he gonna make your day worse this time?

10:08 - Funny how quickly a job can disappear.

Fuck it. Whatever. You sent him as modest of a nude photo as you could muster - panties and bra on, face cropped out. 

10:12 - Cute. Smile this time. Lose the underwear. 

10:32 - Leaving me on read wont work. Nice try tho

10:33 - Five minutes. Don’t make me wait

You sighed in frustration as you stripped, then snapped a photo from above. Legs crossed to hide your pussy, your forearm covering your chest.

10:35 - *fire emoji*

10:35 - *As in I’ll fire you. 

10:35 - Bare tits. Bare ass. Bare pussy. Do it now

With no choice but to comply, and with an awful feeling in your gut, you took more photos. First of your tits, then your ass. Sent and sent. 

10:38 - Forgetting something?

It made you feel even more sick, but you needed him off your back. You spread your legs, pointed the front-facing camera at your cunt, and took the photo, then sent it to Roman. 

10:45 - I bet you’re so tight. Are you wet right now? 

10:45 - Yeah

Playing along. 

10:47 - I wanna be inside you

10:47 - Gonna cover you in my cum

Roman went quiet for a while then, probably ten minutes before texting you back. 

10:58 - I wanna watch you cum for me. 

10:59 - I’ll know if you fake it

He made you send him videos of you masturbating, all different camera angles, different positions. He kept you up until almost three, making yourself come over and over for him. Until he could hear you crying in the videos, your thighs trembling. It was horrible - humiliating, exhausting, so fucking dehumanizing. He sent you pictures of an old cardigan of yours covered in his come at the end of the whole thing. You thought you lost it.

It’s Monday afternoon now. You have a bad feeling when you walk to Roman’s office, seeing that the blinds are drawn over the large glass panes of his windows. You let yourself into the room at his request, and Roman’s sitting on his little gray couch, legs spread wide. He’s palming his bulge, eyes following you as you close the door. You avoid making eye contact with him, something that only serves to challenge him. He straightens, then wordlessly pats the seat next to him. 

“I have those files you asked for, Roman.” 

“Oh, that’s great. That’s really, yeah - awesome. Set ‘em down.” 

You set them on the coffee table, then anxiously drum your fingers on your lap. You steal the littlest glance at Roman sitting next to you; his thumb mindlessly stroking where the hard head of his cock presses against his slacks. 

A heavy silence falls as you process what’s inevitably coming next. Roman unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants, then unzips them. He rests his head against the couch as he pulls out his cock, then looks right at you. A lazy smirk pulls at the corner of his lips and his eyes are lidded, darkened with lust in a way that makes him look like an animal. 

Roman lets out a little giggle at the nervous way you fidget your hands. He takes one in his own, holding tightly onto your wrist when you try and pull it back. “Hang on - wait. I like your nails. Pretty, very pretty, sweetheart. I think they’d look nice wrapped around my cock, don’t you?”

You bunch your fingers in a fist, attempting to pull your wrist out of his grip. “N-no, I don’t, Rom–”

“Oh, come on. That’s why you got ‘em fuckin’ done, right?” Roman uses his other hand to pry your fingers open. “Hey, open your fucking - there we go.” He lowers your hand, pressing your palm against his warm package, and his cock looks smaller in person. Just as upsetting, though. 

Roman lets out a quiet, soft groan of pleasure, then turns frustrated when you pull away again. He snaps his fingers at you, “Hey - assistant girl. Isn’t this your job, right? To assist?”

A knock at Roman’s office door has him jumping, and you take the opportunity to get away from him entirely. You leave Roman on that couch, and he’s cursing you under his breath while quickly tucking his cock back into his trousers, watching you do your quick little half-jog out of his office. Fine, be that way. You’ll fucking get it later. 

You don’t have a plan in mind when you begin walking, you just leave. Looking over your shoulder to see if Roman’s following behind you, if he’ll grab you by the forearm and drag you into a supply closet. Do god only knows what to you. Probably fuck you with the end of some maintenance man’s mop.  

You find yourself knocking at Logan’s door, then exhale a shaky breath. You’re not…you’re not sure what you’re doing here. What you’re gonna tell him, if you’re gonna tell him anything. It’s not like he’d do anything about it, right? Logan eyes you through the window, then calls you inside with just a simple wag of his fingers. He looks annoyed, fuck. But when does he not?

Logan’s room is large, and you’re not entirely sure how to navigate, which feels silly. Sounds even sillier to say. You’re not often alone with Logan, and the proximity makes you unsure of yourself. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve always felt…something for him. He’s a brute, yes, and you’ve seen the ugliest sides of him. Something about it makes his softer moments that much more profound, though. The tenderness is there, and it shows in quieter times. He winks at you now and then, offers you a smile with no malice or contempt or derision behind it. 

Logan’s got a soft spot for you, too. You’re a sweet girl. He’s always thought so, really. You do what you’re told, and you don’t ask for much. You’re not a bumbling idiot or a nagging fly buzzing in his ear. Easy on the eyes, too. Never hurts.

Logan gestures to a seat in front of his desk and hums a little. “Need a minute,” he mutters as he reads something on the screen. You look at all of his belongings on his desk - papers, folders, a mug. A framed photo of him somewhere warm and beachy, showing off his pale legs and his swollen ankles. 

Finally, he closes the window and smiles at you. His piercing, steel blue eyes pin you in place, but they’re warm too, almost. Warmer than Roman’s. When Roman makes eye contact with you, it makes you feel like prey. Like he’ll hunt you for sport. Not Logan, though. His gaze is heavy, but not hungry. 

Logan claps his fingers together over his thick belly. “What can I do for you, dear?”

“Uhhh…” You cross and uncross your legs as you shift in your seat, then fidget with your manicure, nervously chipping the paint off. You hate this color now. When you look up, Logan’s got his eyebrows raised at you, waiting for you to continue. You don’t want to wear his patience thin. 

“It - I was gonna talk about Roman, but it’s nothing. It’s nothing. I’m not - I don’t need to tattle.” 

“Fuck that. What’s he doing?” Logan demands flatly, immediately, furrowing his brow. 

“No, I shouldn’t have said any–”

Logan interrupts, speaking your name softly. “Tell me.”

You tell him everything about the harassment. How long it’s been going on for, how it started small and just kept escalating and escalating. How fucking relentless Roman is. You show him the texts, the photos, becoming flustered when Logan stumbles across the photos of yourself Roman made you send to him last weekend. Logan quietly hums in approval. 

You tell him about Roman in his office, the stunt he pulled just before now. It feels good to get it off your chest, at least momentarily. The way Logan simply nods, rubbing a hand on his chin makes you feel uneasy, though. A silence hangs heavily as he takes it all in, thinking. 

“What?” The anxiety makes your question slip out rather impatiently. “Sorry, I just - what are you thinking, Mr. Roy?”

Logan scoffs, smiling just a little. “...Didn’t think the kid had it in him.” 

“O-oh. Okay.” 

That’s…that’s it? You wonder if he’s gonna tell you that you were asking for it. Or to buck up. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Logan will be just as cruel to you as his son is. Fuck, you already regret this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice softer than you expected it’d be. “Truly. I’m sorry my son put you through this. I promise I raised him better, darling. I did my best.”

“No, it’s–” You interrupt yourself to exhale steadily, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

“You know,” Logan begins, absentmindedly wiggling his fingers, “You know what it is. Boys’ll fuckin’ be boys.” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, you know. Men don’t grow out of boyhood so quickly, anymore, s’all. World’s turnin’ to fuckin’ shit. Unacceptable behavior, the fuckin’ kid’s pushing forty,” he spits, rolling his eyes. “Roman - he’s…well, you know what this is, don’t you? You see through his act, yes?”

You shake your head. “No,” you reply.

“Boys like him, they’ll pick on ya when they’re sweet on you,” Logan explains. “That’s all it is. Usually harmless. Usually,” he adds.

“But, Mr. Roy, I don’t–”

“I know, dear. He’s not your type, is he?”

“No,” you answer quickly, garnering a hearty chuckle from Logan. You laugh too.

“The boy always was an odd duck,” Logan adds, then pauses, thinking. “What is your type, darling, if you’ll forgive my asking?”

“Oh, gosh,” you giggle, feeling Logan’s heavy gaze on your body, your warm face. He knows. He absolutely knows. 

“Older, for one,” you admit. 

Logan smirks, and you share a smile with him. He seems to pick up on everything, knows exactly what the words left unspoken spell out. It’s always girls like you, vibrating with desire for him. No matter how white his hair becomes, nor how much rounder his belly gets, nor every new wrinkle that graces his face as the years stack up - doesn’t change the fact that Logan Roy’s still fucking got it. He reaches for one of his desk drawers, then pulls it open and reaches inside. Logan grabs an orange bottle and rattles out a tiny, blue, diamond shaped pill. His blue eyes twinkle at you as he swallows the pill, then points to the bar cart by the window. “Be a lamb, darling. Some water.”  

Quickly, you grab Logan a glass of water, watching him wash down the pill as you clench your thighs. 

“I need to hit him where it hurts,” Logan says in between sips. “Make it fuckin’ stick this time.” 

Logan shoots Roman a quick text, and you wait anxiously for his arrival. When he finally enters the office, his face falls upon seeing you at his father’s desk, looking…happier than he’d like to see you. You’re sitting up straight, chin held high, shoulders back. Logan’s scowl darkens as he gestures for Roman to sit down, right in the seat next to you. Roman’s hands shake a little as he pulls the seat back and lowers himself into it. 

“What’re we gonna do about you, son?”

“What?” Roman’s brows furrow, and his bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly. “I don’t kn–”

“You a sicko?”

Roman shifts uncomfortably in his seat, realizing this conversation is absolutely not going to go his way. “No, I–”

Logan cuts Roman off, his tone sharp. “She tells me you’ve been harassing her, Roman. Is this true?”

“What? Dad, no. She’s f-fucking lying,” Roman stammers. Roman looks at you then, and you can see how he tries to glare, to scare you, to regain control. He’s powerless here, with you protected by his father. 

Logan reaches for your phone, which is sitting face down on his desk. He turns it on, “Gimme a hand here, darling. Pull it up again.” 

You have to bite down on your smile as you put in your passcode, feeling so empowered at the moment. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. Roman’s humiliated you so many times and finally, he’s gonna take what he dishes. And then some.

Logan shakes his head a little, grumbling as he prods the screen with his fat fingers. “Fuckin’ bastard…here. Here it is. S’that your fuckin’ dick?” he sneers, spit flying from his lips. He turns the phone around, showing Roman one of the many, many photos of his own dick on your phone.

Roman freezes, his face turning pale enough to make his freckles vanish. “N–”

“Certainly small enough to be yours. Look–” Logan scrolls through more texts, “This one too, huh?”

“No,” Roman seethes, and it almost makes you giggle, the way he scrambles to lie. So fucking…pathetic. He’s everything Logan’s not. 

“Oh, see? Look at him, darling. He’s squirming.”

Logan reaches for his eyeglasses sitting on his chest, held by a cord that wraps around his neck. He squints a little as he scrolls through your phone, then clears his throat before reading aloud. “‘I bet you’re so tight’,” he reads loudly, droning in a monotone voice. “‘I need to be inside you. You’d look pretty covered in my cum.’ You think this is a fucking compliment?” Logan asks, looking at Roman through his eyebrows.

Roman’s face twists, and he scratches the back of his neck in discomfort. “Dad–”

Logan turns the phone around again, and this time a picture of Roman’s hand is on the screen. Fingers spread, covered in his own come. He scrolls again and the next photo is a picture of Roman himself, licking those fingers. 

“You are a fuckin’ sicko,” he growls.

You and Logan watch Roman shrink into his seat, how he looks like he’d willingly crawl out of his own skin and die, if he could. Logan lets him stew in his discomfort and his shame for a beat, then pats his lap, petting his bulge a little.

Roman watches you round the desk at the same time Logan rolls his chair back, making enough space for the both of you. You sit on Logan’s meaty thighs, watching the color drain from Roman’s lips. “Ope - up a second, dear. C’mon, up, up.” Logan swats your hip gently. You stand up then, and feel Logan’s large, paddle shaped hands slide up your thighs, under your skirt. He reaches for the waistband of your panties before tugging them down, letting them pool at your feet. You step out of them, then sit back down, leaning against Logan’s thick, pillowy belly. 

“Spread your legs,” Logan whispers, helping you part your thighs. Your skirt rides up your body, putting your throbbing cunt on display for Roman. Roman swallows thickly, watching as his father reaches for your center, grunting a little as he stretches. You moan when you feel him touch you, sliding just one, thick digit through your slippery folds. “Oh,” he gasps mockingly, holding out his hand for Roman to see. “See how wet she is, Romulus? Tell him, darling, who are you this fuckin’ wet for?”

“You,” you whimper, turning to speak to Logan. Logan groans, and you feel his thick cock twitch against your backside. “I need you, Mr. Roy.”

“Oh, my dear. Be patient. We’ll get there.”

Logan glares at Roman as he pushes a single finger inside of you, and even that’s a stretch that has you whining. Logan coos in your ear, quieting you as he uses his other hand to unbutton your blouse. He wriggles his fat hand underneath your bra, palming and groping your tits, teasing your nipples with his thumb. “Fuckin’ kid wouldn’t know what to do with a pair of tits like these, now would he, sweetheart?”

“N-no,” you agree, looking right at Roman. Your eyes scan down his body, noticing that - oh, god. He’s fucking hard. He’s trying to hide it, hands covering his crotch. But you see it. You see the way he’s rocking his hips, pressing down on himself to alleviate that pressure a little. 

Logan pumps his finger inside you once, then twice, then adds another. He curls the two rhythmically, noting how it makes Roman squirm. Roman’s making desperate, stifled little noises as he watches his father fingerfuck you, so shamefully, disgustingly turned on by the sight. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, resting your head against Logan’s shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as you bask in the pleasure, bucking your hips into his palm a little. 

“Ah-ah. Eyes open, darling, and look at Roman. Look, he’s fuckin’ hard for ya. See?” You lift your head a little, looking at Roman through half-lidded eyes. His face is so fucking red, eyes still wild but a little broken, too. All wet and sad. He’s sweating, you can see it glittering at his hairline, the protruding veins in his forehead twitching to match. “He’s making a mess of himself,” Logan adds, pointing to the the wet spot bleeding through Roman’s pants. “Fuckin’ disgusting, isn’t he?”

“Dad,” Roman whispers, voice breaking. “Please, d–”

“Shut the fuck up, Roman,” you snap. You’re melting as Logan now rubs your clit in practiced circles. He’s got decades of experience under his belt. Guided some hundreds of women to orgasm. You’re no different, just as easy as the rest of them.

You whine as Logan pulls his hand away, pushing you forward so he can free his cock from his slacks. He sucks in his belly as he unbuttons his pants, then exhales deeply, thick belly bulging against his thin shirt. Even at the ripe age of eighty, Logan’s cock is long and thick, and everything Roman’s simply is not. You don’t get much of a look at the thick, unruly patch of white pubic hair surrounding the base of his shaft before Logan’s pulling you against him, tapping his dress shoe between your ankles to make you spread your legs. “Show Roman how you take care of his old man, huh? See how he likes that.” He fits the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, then slowly pushes you down with a firm push on your hips. “Ohhh, that’s it, darling. You take it so well.”

The stretch of his cock entering you has you sucking in a sharp breath, then exhaling through that delicious pain. Your cunt pulses around Logan’s cock as you watch Roman free his own dick, desperately pawing at his own length as tears fall from his eyes. He wipes them quickly, then uses the same hand to stroke himself.

“Help a man out, sweetheart. The osteoarthritis…my knees, I–”

“Of course, Mr. Roy,” you coo sweetly, lifting yourself up and down on his turgid, wrinkled member. Logan steadies you with his hands on your waist, guiding you along. Roman lets a little sob escape as he watches his father fuck his massive cock into you, squeezing his own cock so desperately. You giggle at that. 

“Quit - don’t fucking laugh–”

“Hey,” Logan barks, pointing a finger at Roman. “You don’t call the shots here, Roman, I do. I fucking run game,” he growls. Logan squeezes your breasts in both hands as he draws in and out of you, letting out wheezy exhales as his heart rate increases, but he won’t let his hypertension stop him from pleasing you. “Yeah, that’s it, honey. Look at him, fucking his hand. Tell me darling, what do you think of that?” 

“I think - I think he’s fucking pathetic,” you answer, looking right at Roman as you say it. Roman’s face breaks even further, more tears falling from his big, wet eyes. He wipes his eyes and his dripping nose, using the mess on his hand as lubricant as he fucks his fist with a depressing sort of fervor.

“Hear that, son? She thinks you’re fucking pathetic,” Logan taunts. 

“I fuck- oh, fuck,” Roman whimpers, throwing his head back as he desperately works himself. 

“Oh, you’re fuckin’ adopted,” Logan grumbles under his breath. He lifts you up then, and spins you around, then lays you across his desk so you’re looking at Roman upside-down. Logan enters you again in one swift motion, then begins fuckings you with an energy you wouldn’t expect, but that pleasantly surprises you. He’s so spry for an eighty year old. 

“You do so good for me,” Logan praises you. “My idiot son could get fucked like this too, if he weren’t such a fucking screwup. Isn’t that right, Romulus?”

“Y-yeah,” Roman whines. 

“Speak up, Roman. Let her hear you. Actually–” Logan grunts, punctuating the sentence with a brutal snap of his hips “I want you to apologize to her.”

“What?”

“He’s that fuckin’ stupid, huh?” Logan pants, the comment directed at you. “Fucking. Apologize,” he tells Roman. “Do it now.”

“I’m fuckin’ sorry. Okay?”

“Again, Romulus,” Logan demands, annoyed. “Louder.”

Roman tells you he’s sorry again, and it makes you smile. His voice all high-pitched and broken. Good, it’s about fucking time he’s taken down a peg.

“Tell her again,” Logan says. “Like ya fuckin’ mean it, Roman. And you don’t stop apologizing until she comes. Are we fucking clear?”

Roman nods frantically, pumping his cock as he whines, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

His words go right to your core. Logan fucks you harder, and licks his thumb before bringing it to your clit. He uses those same practiced circles from before to coax along your release, and it’s not long before you’re pulsing around his cock, moaning Roman’s father’s name as you come hard, all that pleasure washing over you as Roman whispers how fucking sorry he is. 

With a few harsh thrusts, Logan’s spilling into you next, coming with a deep, guttural grunt and wheezing breaths, a sharp pain in his chest. It’s all fucking worth it. He reaches into his pocket and tosses you his handkerchief, then excuses himself, mumbling something about needing his supplemental oxygen. 

You sit on Logan’s desk as Roman strokes himself to completion, sobbing as he gets off to the sight of your puffy, swollen cunt, ruined by his own father, and dripping with his spend. He makes a mess of himself as he comes, “Here, Rome–” you offer, tossing your used cumrag at him. 

“Get that - fuck,” Roman cries, swatting it away. He sobs as he comes down from his orgasm, unable to even look at you as you put yourself back together. 

“It’s smaller in person,” you murmur, touching Roman on the shoulder before leaving. He flinches at that, then breaks down in tears again as he shoves his softening cock back into his pants. “See ya tomorrow, boss.”

if you enjoyed, please shout at me 🩷💕 comments, rb, or go to my inbox. I turned anons back on because I know a handful of freaks will need to scream about their horniness but would prefer to do so anonymously.

romey tags

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson @moth-maam56

@kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink @romanarose

@kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife @thesummerpetrichor

@lilipads @luiscarrutherss @baronessvonglitter @myromeow

@ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @always-andromeda @causesimmer @pedropascalbabygirl

@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

@perpetuallymanic @111melo @veryverycoolgirl @marisemonteiroo

@prettybpdgirl @butuhaventseenmyman @drunkdriverkillerwhale @fawnjaw

[i-dared-myself]

Sick Day

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: can u do a ninth member one where she’s feeling sick but is forced to go on stage but is like coughing and not giving it her all or something like that? I don’t know just I love your writing and I would really love if u could do that :)

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and pad over to the door. You push it open and sniffle as you go down the stairs, throat aching.

“You look pale,” Changbin remarks once you throw yourself onto the couch with a groan.

“Don’t feel good,” you mumble back. You toss an arm over your face. “I feel so gross.”

“Who’s ready for this?” Jisung screams as he rushes into the living room. You cover your face and bite back a whine at the headache he causes. “Big performance today!” 

Changbin hushes him, motioning to you. “She’s sick.”

Jisung freezes, eyes widening. “That’s not good. We’re supposed to have that-“

You cut him off. “I know! You think I wanted to be sick?”

He throws his hands up and slowly backs out of the room. “I’ll go find some medicine.”

Changbin presses his hand to your forehead. “You feel warm.”

Felix walks by, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Does she feel warm to you?” Changbin asks.

“Is this a trick?” Felix suspiciously questions. He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re… smoking hot. Sexy.”

“No!” Changbin snaps. “Does she have a fever?”

Felix’s mouth forms an ‘O’ as he approaches. He puts the back of his hand to your forehead before nodding. “Yeah, kinda.”

Hyunjin scoffs, leaning on the doorframe. “You just have cold hands. Let me see.” Hyunjin checks, before recoiling. “That’s a fever! Someone put a mask on her!”

“Has anyone used an actual thermometer yet?” Seungmin demands, hovering in the doorway. “Idiots.”

“Do we even have one?” Changbin asks. “Is it in the cabinet or…?”

Seungmin holds it up. “I heard you all shouting and grabbed it.”

Hyunjin winces. “Is it… an ass one?”

You duck behind Changbin. “It better not be!”

“It’s not! It goes under the tongue!” Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

You reluctantly walk over, opening your mouth. He sticks it under your tongue, eyebrows pulling together when it beeps and flashes red.

“Fever,” Seungmin confirms.

Jisung sprints inside, juggling bottles of medicine. “What are your symptoms? We need to find the one that matches exactly with it.”

Felix peers at the bottles before taking one and inspecting the label. “This one is just vodka.”

Minho shuffles in, rubbing at his eyes. He yawns before noticing everyone. “Whats going on?”

“She’s sick,” Changbin announces. “Don’t tell Chan.”

You perk up. “Why not?”

“He’ll worry the whole time,” Hyunjin chimes in. “If you take some medicine you’ll be fine. Okay, maybe not fine, but he’ll worry himself sick if he hears.”

“And we don’t need two sick members,” you agree. “Okay, no one tell him.”

Minho clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Jisung says as he pours some medicine for you. “Now take these drugs.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Felix pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s so- Just don’t do that.”

Jeongin wanders into the living room. “Who’s making breakfast? We leave in an hour and I’m hungry. I could eat a horse. Or Hyunjin would work. Pretty much the same thing.”

Hyunjin smacks the back of Jeongin’s head. “Careful. I haven’t had my coffee yet and am not in a good mood.”

Chan tugs at the strings of his hoodie. “What’s going on?”

You force a smile and push away the pounding headache. “Nothing.” You turn around and take the cup of medicine from Jisung, downing it like a shot. 

Chan scratches the back of his neck. “Okay then… Is everyone ready for today?”

You nod confidently, although it’s definitely not how you feel inside. “Yes. Very.”

Chan smiles softly. “Good. You’ll be great.”

Your stomach tumbles at his words. You really don’t need another reminder. This is your first time taking such a main spot. You’ll be in the front for the majority, being main vocalist.

And you’re sick.

Chan rolls up his sleeves. “I guess I’ll cook breakfast, then. You all be ready to go when it’s time.”

Felix grins, freckles scrunching up. “Sir yes sir.”

Chan points a finger at him. “You. You’ll be my kitchen helper for that.”

Felix sighs and his shoulders slump, but he obediently trails after Chan into the kitchen. “Sir yes sir.”

“Stay strong,” Jeongin whispers to you. He clenches a fist. “Fight the patriarchy!”

You bury your face in your hands. “Jeongin… No…”

Changbin grins, seemingly intent on making you suffer. “Down with the patriarchy!”

Seungmin pumps his fists, eyes glinting with mischief. “Up with the matriarchy!”

Jisung eagerly joins in. “Mommies rise up!”

Everyone stared at him.

Minho breaks the silence. “What?”

Jisung laughs nervously. “I was just… doing what everyone else was.”

“You really weren’t.” Hyunjin shakes his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You grip your microphone tightly. You’re fairly certain that the medicine has worn off by now. You keep flashing between too hot, and too cold. Your head is pounding and your throat burns.

You adjust your belt before stepping out onto stage. The rest of your group follows shortly behind, waving enthusiastically to the crowd.

You take your place at the front, listening to the introductions. When they come to an end and the music begins, you raise your microphone to your lips.

And your voice rasps.

You quickly push it aside, continuing with the song. Your voice thankfully clears, but your head is growing light.

Chan shoots you a worried look a you stumble over a step. You ignore him and push through the movements.

Felix and Hyunjin rush past you, using dramatic hand gestures. Hyunjin had designed that part of the dance and was very proud of it and you’re so tired and-

You twirl in the wrong direction and Jeongin barely manages to slide around you. He plays it off with an extra movement that’s honestly impressive.

You hold off a cough long enough for Jisung’s lines to come up. You dart behind Changbin to cough, grimacing when it tastes like mucus.

Seungmin’s upper lip curls and he offers you a sympathetic look.

The rest of the group parts so you can make your way to the front. You sashay as the choreography expects, only to crumple as soon as you reach the front.

Minho falls to his knees next to you and loops his arms under yours. He drags you off the stage as the others continue with what little remains. You distantly hear Seungmin take over for you, too busy blinking to really pay attention.

Minho props you up, stroking your face gently. “Come on. Deep breaths and I’ll get you some water.”

You take a sip from your bottle when it’s offered to you. “I don’t feel good. I wanna go home.”

Minho hums and presses the heel of his hand to your forehead. “I think you have a fever.”

Chan springs backstage, eyes wide with panic. “What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

You cough into your elbow. “I’m fine. Just sick.” Your voice is nasally and you can’t possibly imagine how bad you just sounded on stage.

Chan’s expression shifts. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“Told you,” Minho whispers as he glides away.

“It was their idea!” Your voice is gesture to the others. “They made me! I’m just sick and you should take pity on me!”

Chan crosses his arms. “That’s no excuse. You need to tell me these things so stuff like this doesn’t happen again. Got it?”

You nod. “I got it. Totally understand.”

Chan sighs and holds out his arms. “Come here.”

You bound towards him and bury yourself in his arms. He squeezes you once before releasing you.

“Now let’s go home.” Chan takes your hand in his and guides you out the doors. “The public and press are being dealt with now. You have nothing to worry about.”

You can barely keep your eyes open by the time you reach the company van. You fall asleep on Changbin, and he carries you inside the dorms.

“Wake up,” Chan softly says. “You need medicine.”

“Drugs,” Seungmin pipes up to make you laugh. “She needs drugs.”

“Mm,” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows, “I love drugs.”

Felix spins around and marches off. “I’ll go get some juice boxes.”

Jisung cheers and runs after him. You sit up to take the medicine you’re given. It’s disgusting and you gag.

Hyunjin jumps away. “Don’t vomit on me!”

You shoot him a dirty look. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

Jeongin pats the top of your head. “You’ll be okay. Just don’t think about how no one thinks they’re going to die because of a cold, then bam they’re dead.”

“Let’s not talk like that.” Chan swoops in to place a hand on the small of your back. “Go up to bed and get some rest. When you come down we’ll have your juice boxes and maybe even some takeout.”

You cough into the crook of your arm. “I don’t wanna sleep by myself.”

“Ew.” Hyunjin curls away from you. “Don’t infect the rest of us! You’re a walking biohazard!”

“Here.” Changbin hands you a Dwaekki. “Just throw it in the wash when you’re done covering it in disease.”

Minho clears his throat. “Or we could just burn it.”

“Did someone say bonfire?” Jisung pokes his head into the room, a crazed look in his eyes.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret

[bussyyeukie]

Neon Lights and Blood Fights drabble

Fighter!simon x reader: Simon’s first time seeing you, and the first time he’s ever truly wanted something for himself.

Simon stood with his arms crossed, black jacket pulling at his muscles on his shoulders. Brows pinched together tightly, his lips downturned–although you couldn't see that part past the black baklava he was wearing, skull painted on the bottom half of it, hood pulled up over his head. Eyes blacked out by the dark smudging around them. Blending into the scene like a ghost despite his size.

Eyes scanning out over the crowd, air murky with smoke and the neon lights in the basement.

He couldn't seem to get away from the scent of mildew that filled the air. Groaning to himself about how he wanted to take his 5th smoke break of the hour just to get out of the thick air and men shouting.

A fight was going on in the makeshift ring in the middle of it all, Gaz repeatedly slamming his fist into some poor bloke's face till it was nearly mush. The crowd ate it up. Simon rolled his eyes as he swept his gaze around again. Everyone was behaving–or behaving for the event, no other fights breaking out, no one causing unnecessary problems.

His boots thudded against the ground as he walked over to the makeshift bar, looked pretty legit for being set up that afternoon, but Price knew good people for it.

It was packed with drunk men, shouting and spewing nonsense.

His eyes landed on a familiar face, who was practically slumped over the bar with a drink in hand, squinting at his phone that was turned up too bright. The blond man shoving his way through the crowd, and damn near slamming his arm down next to the man, leaning towards him.

“Yeah I mean,” the man hiccuped a bit, rubbing his mouth, trying to show the bartender something on his phone, “She’s so hot ya know, but god just a bitch–like she just wants me ta-to be there allll the tiimmmee. Then when I actually wanna see her she’s all like, ‘bleh i’m so busy with work,’ and ‘wah wah i’m too tired tonight’.”

The bartender rolled his eyes as he mixed the drink, looking at the man with an annoyed gaze.

“It’s so annoying, she was cool at the beginning but ugh, she’s like…she’s so hot and good in bed but jesus it’s like, like she, like I’m supposed to just go to her whenever, like, I need my time ya know, my man time and shit…”

The lumbering man felt his stomach churn with what he was hearing, growing even more irritated with the bastard than he was.

The man looked at his phone again, sighing, muttering to himself, “Wish she had bigger tits though…”

“Nice night, ey mate?” Simon’s voice was gruff as he spoke–the man jumping in his seat and whipping his head around.

“Christ–uh, Ghost–heyy man uh–”

The man's hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead, face flushed as he fumbled with his phone. Simon glanced at it, and felt his fist tighten up and his heartbeat speed up.

“Price’s been lookin' for ya, got some things to settle with ‘im.”

“Y-yeah,” the man looked to the bartender, who snorted out his nose and left the two alone, sending Simon a quick look, “I, I’ve got the money–almost um got the money like i’m so close to it–”

Simon cut him off by slapping his back roughly, jolting the man forward, digging his ribs into the bars corner.

“Oh I’m sure,” there was a beat of silence before he gestured to the phone on the bar, “That yer bird there?”

The man gulped and looked to his phone, as did Simon, a picture of you on the screen–it was a picture of you sitting with your knees to your chest, you were in a pair of black sports shorts that were just starting to ride up on your ass and a worn green t-shirt with some soda slogan on it. Your hair up messily and a fork resting between your lips. You were looking up at the camera through your brows a bit annoyed, a bowl of pasta sitting in front of you.

Simon felt his teeth grind together a bit, forcing himself to peel his eyes away from the phone to look at the much less pleasing sight of the drunk man who was sitting with his mouth open.

Simon agreed, you sure were something that was easy on the eyes. More than easy, he could look at you all day everyday if given the chance.

“Um…yeah?” the man sounded unsure of himself, slightly confused, “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Hm,” Simon hummed to himself, looking down at the picture again, “Pretty thing, ain't she?”

The man chuckled in a douche manner, “She’s pretty hot yeah, that’s why I’m dating her.”

There was a weird sense of boasting that rolled off the man's tone, eyeing Simon up and down.

“Wanna see more?”

Simon's gaze grew dark as he looked back to the drunk sitting there, who scrambled for his phone and started tapping at it, before holding it out to Simon–whose muscles tensed up and whose scowl deepened.

It was a picture of you on your hands and knees, chest nearly to the floor and your arm bent uncomfortably to reach under a shelf grabbing for something. Obviously unaware the picture was being taken.

“The fuck is that?” the titan of a man felt his voice drop lower, shoulders squaring out.

The drunk seemed to not catch the shift in atmosphere, “Got a great ass, don’t she?”

He looked back to his phone as Simon grabbed the man's wrist tightly, making him shout out a swear and look up with wide eyes.

“Hey what the hel–”

“Delete it.”

“Wh-what?”

“Delete. It.”

Simon’s tone was scary smooth, pulling the man's arms closer to him as he squeezed, leaning in closer.

“Uh–I…yeah I, ok I will…” Simon let go of the man and he stumbled back slightly, before shakily bringing his phone back to him, “Ya know she’s my girlfr–”

One look from the much bigger man caused him to shut up, snapping his attention back down to this phone.

“Ok, it’s gone…ass.”

Simon nodded, then reached around to grab the back on the man's collar. Pulling him up as Simon straightened up, arm solid with muscle as the scrawny man stumbled and reached around for him.

“Since ya ain't doin' nothin’, sure Price would like to 'av a word wi' ya…”

“I-I–”

Simon dragged him away, leading him out of the crowd stumbling and tripping over his feet with Simon’s wide steps. The blonds mind wandering back to the bird on the screen, his heart jumping again in his chest. For a moment he was taken out of the grimy place he was stuck in for the night, the air seemed easier to breathe and the nose not so grating on his ears…he had to see you again.

the lovely fighter si tag list:

@sophhieannee . @rafaelacallinybbay . @oceantornadoo  . @jamdoughnuts . @kupids-arrow . @msjaeger . @hidden-treasures21

[aardelea]

How does he react to catcalling?

Hey there!

Thank you so much for your request, and my sincerest apologies for how long this took—I’ve been completely swamped with work and just couldn’t find the time to get to it sooner. I really hope the Anon who originally asked for this still gets to read it!

I have to admit, I struggled a bit with this headcanon. I’ve experienced catcalling myself, but never when someone was with me. And since everyone reacts differently and the circumstances are always unique, it was quite challenging to figure out how each character would realistically respond. That said, I hope the final result still resonates with you.

Since your lover’s reaction would largely depend on how you respond, let’s assume for the sake of simplicity that everything happens so quickly, you don’t even have the time to react.

Happy reading! 😊

You finally have some free time and decide to go for a stroll through the city—maybe grab a bite together or run a few errands. Since there's no convenient way for you to head there together, you agree to meet directly in town. The designated meeting point is a public transit stop, where you’re already waiting in a great mood, excited to see your boyfriend.

However, your mood quickly sours when a young man approaches, flashing you a sleazy grin. He whistles and, as he gets closer, says, "Hey there, sweetheart. Nice ass." He smirks as he walks past, completely oblivious to the fact that, at that very moment, your man is approaching from the opposite direction.

Jin

Frustrated that he wasn’t there in time to prevent the situation altogether, Jin doesn’t waste a second. He immediately steps in front of the guy, blocking his way.

The stranger halts in confusion, swallowing any irritation he might have had about nearly bumping into someone—because Jin’s icy stare alone is enough to freeze him in place. Without a word, Jin grabs him by the collar and yanks him toward you, none too gently. Whatever the guy tries to stammer out is ignored. Once he’s standing right in front of you, Jin simply states, “Apologize.” He doesn’t even need to use his Stigma—the demand alone is enough to make the guy comply.

How long this ordeal lasts depends entirely on the stranger. Jin won’t be satisfied until the guy is on his knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. And if he needs a little extra motivation? Well, a swift nudge to the knees or a none-too-gentle smack to the back of the head should do the trick.

Even if you try to intervene, Jin won’t let up until he deems justice served. Once he’s finally satisfied, he lets the guy go, casually drapes an arm around your shoulders, and walks off with you. “Never settle for second-rate. You’re worth more.”

Tohma

A true gentleman, Tohma takes care of his lady. No random punk is going to get away with dumping his unresolved perversions on you. He strides up to the guy, blocking his way with his usual unreadable grin. Outwardly, he looks calm, but inside? He’s absolutely seething.

"Well, well. What do we have here? Surely I must’ve misheard. It almost sounded like you said something wildly inappropriate to the lovely lady behind you." The guy just scoffs and replies, "Dude, are you deaf? Get outta my way, three-eyes."

Tohma sighs theatrically. “And here I was, hoping we could handle this the easy way…” You watch as he leans in and whispers something in the guy’s ear—something you can’t quite hear. When he pulls back, he’s still grinning, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. The guy, however, stands there frozen for a solid few seconds before quickly turning to you, bowing deeply. "I deeply apologize, ma'am. My behavior was highly inappropriate. I wish you a pleasant day." His eyes flick nervously toward Tohma, who only smirks and says, "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Without hesitation, the guy scurries off. Tohma turns back to you, offering his arm with an easy smile. "Shall we, beautiful?"

Luca

Luca is a man of honor. There’s no way he’d ever let something happen to you under his watch. That’s why he’s frustrated—no, downright disappointed in himself—for not arriving earlier to stop this from happening in the first place.

Without hesitation, he steps in front of the guy, blocking his path. “That is no way to speak to a lady. Not in Japan, not anywhere in the world. Apologize.”

"Dude, what’s your problem? Move," the guy snaps, attempting to push past him. But Luca isn’t budging. At first, he still seems composed—polite, even—but his gaze darkens with every second. "Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time," he says, his voice lower now. "Apologize for your unacceptable behavior. Or I’ll make you."

The stranger hesitates when he notices Luca’s hands clenching into fists. Begrudgingly, he turns to you, gives a half-hearted bow, and mutters an apology. Then, glaring back at Luca, he asks, "Happy now?" Luca’s only response is a cold, "I better not see you anywhere near her again." He doesn’t even bother watching him leave—his attention is immediately back on you, making sure you’re okay.

Kaito

Kaito might call himself a coward, but his actions tell a different story. When it really matters, he always pushes through his fears. And seeing you in distress? That’s more than enough to make him act.

Is he scared? Absolutely. Does the idea of a confrontation terrify him? More than anything. But will he let that stop him from standing up for you? Never.

Whispering a few words of encouragement to himself, he clenches his fists, marches up to the guy, and grabs his shoulder, spinning him around. "What the hell do you think you’re saying to my girlfriend?! Apologize!" His attempt at a deep, commanding voice comes out… well, more like a high-pitched shriek.

The guy barely spares him a glance before slapping his hand away and walking off with a dismissive, "Man, you’re nuts." Kaito, now fuming, yells after him about how he clearly has no manners and must’ve been raised by wolves. After throwing in a few extra insults for good measure, he rushes to you, wrapping a protective—and slightly trembling—arm around your shoulders. "Are you okay? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Please tell me you’re okay…"

Alan

Just as the guy turns to leave, he suddenly collides with something—or rather, someone. Hard. He stumbles back, landing unceremoniously on his ass, cursing loudly. "Dude, watch where you’re—" His words die in his throat the moment he looks up and meets Alan’s impassive stare.

The guy sees nothing but blank indifference. But you? You know Alan better than most. And you can tell he’s barely keeping his fury in check.

"Do you think that’s an appropriate way to speak to a woman?" Alan asks coolly, unmoving. The guy quickly shakes his head. "Then apologize." The silence stretches as the guy hesitates—until Alan’s voice cuts through the air again, sharper this time. "Now."

The guy scrambles to his feet, turning to you with a deep bow, stammering out rushed apologies. "I-I’m so sorry, miss, that was incredibly rude of me… I didn’t mean to…" Alan steps closer, his gaze still pinned on him. Once the guy finally finishes groveling, Alan simply says, "That’s enough. Leave."

As soon as the guy scurries away, Alan steps to your side, his expression softening just a fraction as he looks at you. "Are you alright?"

Sho

Even though Sho is usually a pretty laid-back guy, he takes your well-being very seriously. If you show even the slightest sign of discomfort after what just happened, he will react immediately.

In his usual relaxed manner, he approaches the guy, casually placing an arm around his shoulder as if they were old friends. With a not-so-gentle turn, he maneuvers the startled stranger toward you.

“She really is quite attractive, isn’t she?” With these words, they stop right in front of you. “Why don’t you tell us what else you find so great about my girlfriend? Please, I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Judging by how intimidated the guy looks while futilely trying to escape Sho’s grip, you almost feel sorry for him. Almost. “This is a huge misunderstanding. Seriously, man! I didn’t know she had a boyfriend!”

“I don’t see how that makes anything better. Come on now, apologize.” … “S-s-sorry.” The stranger’s stammering is barely comprehensible, and any confidence he had before is completely gone. After some further insistence from Sho, a somewhat coherent apology finally comes out. Sho then pushes him away with a “See? That wasn’t so hard,” before turning back to you. “You really do attract these kinds of guys like a magnet, huh?” he teases as he casually drapes an arm around your shoulders and starts walking toward the city center.

Leo

Leo knows exactly the type of guy with that sleazy expression and can sense what’s about to happen before it even unfolds. Since he can’t prevent it, he decides to take a different approach to protect his girlfriend’s honor. He pulls out his phone and starts a livestream—just in time to catch the guy’s sleazy remark.

“And this, my dear viewers…” He switches his camera to selfie mode, filming himself with a cheerful expression as he moves in sync with the stranger, casually throwing an arm around his shoulder so that both of their faces are in the frame. “… is exactly the kind of pathetic guy who thinks it’s okay to harass women. Say hello to our audience, loser.”

“What the…?” The moment the livestream comments start flooding in, the guy realizes what’s happening. Panicked, he wriggles out of Leo’s grip and bolts. “Looks like he’s suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, huh? So, ladies watching this stream—watch out for this guy. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

He abruptly ends the livestream, and by the time he reaches you, he looks visibly upset. “I seriously can’t take my eyes off you for one second, can I?” His tone is sharp, but you’ve been with Leo long enough to hear the concern beneath it. He glances over his shoulder one last time before turning back to you, wrapping an arm lovingly around your waist.

“Come on. You get to choose which restaurant you’re treating me to.” Before you can protest, he plants a kiss on your forehead, and for just a split second, you catch the softest, most affectionate smile on his lips.

Haru

Haru is naturally a peaceful person who avoids conflicts whenever possible. However, he also has a strong protective instinct, so he would step in immediately if he saw someone—especially you—being harassed.

Since he prefers a calm approach when dealing with people (except when he’s with friends), he quietly walks up to the stranger, placing a hand on his shoulder. His demeanor is more de-escalating than threatening.

“That’s really not a good way to treat someone. Don’t you think you should apologize?” Unfortunately, even the best advice rarely gets through to people like this. The guy angrily slaps Haru’s hand away and snaps at him to keep his hands off.

Haru sighs, watching the guy walk away with a disappointed look before turning to you and gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Are you okay?” He will spend the rest of the day trying to distract you from what happened, making sure to give you plenty of sweet compliments—careful not to make them too suggestive—so that this experience doesn’t taint your perception of receiving compliments in the future.

Towa

Since this scenario takes place in broad daylight, I assume Towa isn’t able to speak properly just yet. He may be a free spirit who doesn’t always follow societal conventions, but he immediately recognizes the situation unfolding before him.

Without hesitation, he strides toward the stranger, roughly grabbing his shoulder and letting out a deep, guttural growl (you know the kind of sounds Towa makes—there’s no easy way to describe them). The guy quickly yanks himself free and glares at Towa. “Are you out of your mind, attacking me like that?”

This is the moment when Towa’s gaze darkens completely, and as if on cue, the entire sky follows suit. Rain begins pouring down in sheets, and lightning strikes all around you. The stranger panics, breaking free and sprinting off to find shelter. You could swear the lightning bolts seem to follow him as he flees.

Thankfully, you’re standing under an awning, and as Towa approaches you, his intense expression shifts into one of deep, heart-wrenching concern. If you want the storm to subside along with his mood, you’d better reassure him that you’re okay.

Ren

One might assume that Ren wouldn’t notice an incident like this because he’s glued to his phone, but he actually pays much more attention to his surroundings than people think.

Annoyed, he puts his phone away and steps directly in the stranger’s path, visibly irritated. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You really think it’s okay to talk to women like that?”

The guy looks intimidated at first but quickly recovers his arrogance. “And who do you think you are, talking to me like that in the middle of the street?” Ren, unfazed, remains perfectly calm. He knows his height and build give him an advantage, and while he would never willingly get into a physical fight, he uses his presence to his benefit. He deliberately squares up to the guy, emphasizing the size difference.

Combined with the cold look in Ren’s eyes, his tactic works. The stranger hesitates, then turns back to you, muttering a quick, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” before slipping past Ren and vanishing as quickly as possible.

Ren smirks slightly, satisfied with the outcome, then walks over to you with a more serious expression and pulls you into his arms. “Just ignore guys like that. They’ve got nothing going for them except a big mouth.”

Romeo

No one. I repeat. Absolutely no one except Romeo himself has the right to throw any kind of compliments at his property his beloved. Especially not suggestive ones. Just because he always tells you to keep your head high and learn to stand up for yourself doesn’t mean he lacks a protective instinct.

Accordingly, one of Romeo's legendary outbursts of rage comes to light, which he directs straight at the stranger. "What the hell do you think you're doing, talking to my wife like that, you miserable piece of trash, huh?" Romeo wouldn't rule half of Sinostra if his demeanor wasn’t absolutely terrifying and intimidating. He will most likely have the same effect on the stranger. If yelling doesn’t work, Romeo doesn’t hesitate to draw his weapon. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s aimed it at someone.

Similar to Jin, he will make the stranger apologize in the most humiliating (and, for him, the most degrading) way possible. The only difference is that Romeo will keep shouting at him the whole time and threaten to ruin him and his entire family if he ever hears that he’s misbehaved in any way again. Even if it’s just carelessly throwing a cigarette on the street instead of using a proper trash bin.

As the stranger runs off, nearly sobbing and looking back now and then to make sure Romeo isn't following him, Romeo doesn't spare him another glance. Instead, he turns to you. "I certainly hope you’re not intimidated by such a pathetic maggot. Let’s go. He’s wasted enough of our valuable time."

Taiga

As Taiga approaches and observes the situation, an uncontrollable rage builds up inside him. He quickens his pace and makes a point of standing tall as he nears the scumbag.

Before the stranger can turn around and continue on his way, Taiga loops his arm around his neck while passing him, forcing him back in your direction with sheer strength. From an outsider’s perspective, the gesture might look friendly at first, but the stranger's face tells a different story as he realizes Taiga is just one move away from choking him into unconsciousness.

"Oh yeah, she’s a real cutie, isn’t she?" he says in a low voice as they both move toward you. Though Taiga's words are directed at the young man, and his tone carries an unmistakable threat, his gaze remains locked on you, a clear, sadistic grin on his lips. "Too bad for you that she’s my cutie."

He continues to push the stranger forward until they both stop in front of you. Panic is written all over the man's face as he seems to sense Taiga’s thirst for blood just as much as you do. Taiga releases his grip on his shoulders and instead grabs the nape of his neck, digging his nails into the man's flesh, making him stare at you with both terror and pain in his eyes. "Don’t be shy. What do you say when you’ve disrespected a woman?"

The young man stammers out apologies, becoming more remorseful the tighter Taiga's grip gets. He only stops when the stranger sounds sufficiently pathetic in his ears. "Do you accept his apology, kitty cat?" Your answer will determine whether the poor guy gets away with just a scare or spends the night in the hospital.

Ritsu

As we all know, Ritsu is the type to always carry both his voice recorder and his camera. As he observes the scene in front of him, he doesn’t hesitate to pull out his camera and snap a picture of the man passing by.

The guy looks at Ritsu in confusion, then walks toward him angrily, asking in an aggressive tone why he took a picture of him.

"I simply took a photo of my beautiful girlfriend," Ritsu replies to the accusation of photographing him without permission. "Unfortunately, there's also some guy in the frame who just made some inappropriate remarks toward her. What a shame." As always, Ritsu remains calm during the exchange.

When the man protests that "it’s not illegal to talk to women," Ritsu nods in agreement. "True. However, now I know your face. And if I ever hear that you’ve broken the law in any way—even if it’s just a parking violation—you can bet I’ll make sure you pay for it."

The guy stares at Ritsu in disbelief and suddenly looks very nervous as he abruptly turns and hurries away. Ritsu pays him no further attention and calmly walks up to you. Before greeting you as usual, he asks if you’re okay and thenoffers his arm as you both continue toward your destination.

Haku

Haku is a pretty laid-back and calm guy. Instead of resorting to physical violence, he prefers to use words. Nevertheless, he absolutely despises seeing his princess being harassed by sleazy men. And even Haku can get a little rough sometimes.

As he walks past, he places his hand on the stranger’s shoulder, turning him toward him. His grip is firm enough to stop the man from walking away. "Hey, don’t you think your behaviour was completely inappropriate? Do us all a favor and apologize to her."

Haku doesn’t have an imposing height or an extraordinary build, so the stranger probably isn’t too impressed by his words. He roughly pushes Haku’s hand away. "It’s none of your business how I talk to women. Do us a favor and scram." As the guy turns to walk away, Haku casually calls after him, "Oh, so I’m just imagining things when I say your grandmother is utterly ashamed of you?"

The stranger hesitates, turning back briefly, stammering, "How do you…?" before scurrying away even faster.

Haku then turns to you, making sure you're okay. Depending on your mood, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you remember this day in a positive light. Casually, he drapes his arm around you as you walk together. If you ask whether he really saw the guy’s grandmother's spirit, he just smirks mischievously and says, "Who knows?"

Subaru

Subaru is a calm and peaceful guy. While he reacts immediately to imminent danger without hesitation, he has never been one to engage in open confrontations. So, in this situation, he would focus more on comforting you than dealing with the stranger.

Since Subaru avoids touching people, he wouldn’t physically stop the stranger from walking away. On top of that, he feels uncomfortable being recognized as an actor. Despite his growing fame, it seems to have made him more self-conscious rather than confident.

Nevertheless, Subaru is clearly angry and addresses the stranger with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "That kind of behavior is inappropriate and clearly made her uncomfortable. You should apologize."

"And what, you think you’re her knight in shining armor? Piss off." With these harsh words, the man walks away.

Subaru doesn’t waste any more time on him and instead turns to you with a concerned expression. Whatever it takes to cheer you up and distract you, Subaru will do it.

Zenji

Let’s assume that Zenji is alive in this scenario, as his current situation obviously prevents him from taking any real action. Although he is an optimist who believes in the good in people, he is not someone who lets others walk all over him.

At first, he approaches you with his usual cheerful demeanor, but his expression darkens quickly when he sees the scene unfolding before him. After hearing the stranger’s passing comment, Zenji strides straight toward him and deliberately stops in his path, forcing the man to halt and look at him.

"It is unbecoming to behave this way in front of a lady. You should apologize to her." Zenji's tone is unusually serious, and the look in his eyes is something you rarely see in your friend. However, the stranger seems unimpressed and asks Zenji what his problem is for suddenly confronting him.

"Can’t you see that your words made her uncomfortable? You still have the chance to make it right." Unfortunately, this type of person is rarely moved by morality, and Zenji’s words have little effect. Laughing, the stranger turns away and walks off.

Zenji watches him for a moment, his initial anger fading into slight disappointment. Then he turns to you, pulling you into a reassuring embrace and checking if you’re alright. He apologizes for not being there sooner, so you wouldn’t have had to go through this situation in the first place. Some people just seem to have lost their way.

Rui

In the past, Rui would have immediately confronted the man, calling him out on his behavior without a second thought about the consequences. He would have been firm but never aggressive, relying on his natural charm to coax an apology out of the stranger. After all, he considers himself a pacifist. However, if things had escalated, I doubt he would have simply let it go—and he might have resorted to physical force if necessary.

But things are different now, and Rui is painfully aware of it. Under no circumstances would he risk a physical altercation where he might, at worst, end up killing his opponent. That’s why he swallows his pride and sense of justice, standing by silently as the man walks past him without a word.

Visibly worried, Rui approaches you and immediately asks if you’re okay. The worse you feel after the encounter, the more it reflects in his own expression. He will apologize over and over for not being able to do anything, and no matter how many times you reassure him that it’s alright, he won’t stop doubting himself and his worth in your relationship.

You should keep in mind that this man would do absolutely anything for you if he could. Even though you are the victim in this situation, and depending on your personality, you might be struggling mentally as well, don’t forget to check on your partner. He is suffering right along with you.

Ed

How in the world did you manage to get Ed out of the house during the day? Or to get him moving at all? This must be true love. As he watches the scene unfold, a faint grin spreads across his face, and he eyes the stranger carefully while walking toward him.

"Well, well, a textbook chauvinist. I thought speaking to a lady like that was outdated. Don’t you think an apology is in order?" The stranger stares at Ed, perplexed by his old-fashioned way of speaking. "What do you want from me? You talk like my grandfather. Get lost." With that, the man turns away and walks off.

"Take care! Even in a beautiful country like this, it’s not as safe as you might think." Ed calls after him. The stranger briefly glances back, asks if Ed has a screw loose, and then continues on his way. All the while, Ed hasn’t stopped grinning. The way he watches the young man leave is eerily similar to a predator studying its prey before striking.

"Shall we?" Ed asks, holding out his parasol invitingly so you can stand under it with him. "Don’t worry. People like him always get what they deserve sooner or later. I believe you call it karma here." You already have a sinking feeling that what awaits the stranger has nothing to do with karma. Whether you choose to bring it up with Ed is entirely up to you.

Lyca

Lyca is still adjusting to life among humans and the social norms that come with it. However, he has had a strong sense of justice for a long time, so the moment he sees someone speaking inappropriately to you, he immediately steps in.

He tries to rein in his anger, as he has learned the hard way that people often fear him when he gives in to his wilder instincts. No matter how despicable the stranger is, he is still human, and Lyca has likely accumulated some emotional scars from past rejections. The last thing he wants is to add another one to the list.

"Hey, that’s not okay," Lyca says as he approaches, stepping directly into the stranger’s path. "Apologize to her." "And you shouldn’t just talk to strangers out of nowhere, so I guess we’re even," the man replies dismissively, turning away to continue on his way.

Lyca watches him go, and for a brief moment, you see him start to lift an arm as if to stop the stranger. But halfway through the motion, he freezes and lets his arms fall back down in frustration.

He clenches his fists for a second before relaxing them again and walking over to you. He asks if you’re alright, making sure to call the guy an absolute jerk for speaking to you like that. Even though Lyca sounds normal, you know him well enough to see that he’s deeply frustrated about not having done more. A few comforting words might help him.

Yuri

Coming from an well cultured background, Yuri would never allow a woman’s dignity—especially his own woman’s—to be insulted like that. His rage is evident as he turns to the stranger, his voice booming. "How dare you address a lady in such a disgraceful manner, you worm?!"

The stranger seems startled by Yuri’s sudden outburst but ultimately remains unimpressed. "No need to yell, man. I was just giving the lady a compliment."

"You call that a compliment, you simpleton?! Apologize at once!" Though Yuri usually prides himself on handling matters with a level head, it’s clear that he’s struggling to keep his composure. The stranger snorts derisively and walks past him. "What a lunatic…" you hear him mumble as he leaves.

Yuri glares after him for a moment before turning to you. With quick steps, he reaches you, protectively wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Pay no mind to that coward. Some men simply have no idea how to treat a beautiful woman properly."

Jiro

Jiro is unfamiliar with common social conventions, so there’s a good chance he won’t immediately recognize the situation for what it is.

Since there is no immediate physical threat from the stranger—who simply walks past after making his inappropriate remark—Jiro might just stare after him in mild confusion before turning to you and asking if you know the guy.

What happens next depends entirely on your reaction. If you’re visibly shaken or uncomfortable, Jiro will immediately pick up on it. He’ll ask you if the man did something bad to you, and if you say yes, he’ll offer to "take care of him"—which, knowing Jiro, would be done in the most terrifying way possible.

If you act as if it’s no big deal or say it doesn’t bother you, Jiro won’t push further and will simply continue with your plans for the day. However, if you explain to him what catcalling is and why it’s inappropriate—or if you struggle to hide your discomfort—he will definitely remember this situation. The next time something similar happens (though hopefully, it never will), he won’t hesitate to react much more… forcefully.

[pedriache]

Hello! Could i request a story about Pedri dating a tennis player, someone like Emma răducanu? If you do not like tennis, it's no problem if you don't want to write it. I like all your other Pedri stories 🤗

Breakfast of champions 𖦹 Pedri González !

summary. after you won a match and pedri had won a game on the same day, you both decided the next day you’d celebrate with the most elaborate of breakfasts. the only problem was—pedri was terrible at making waffles.

wc. 685+

disclaimers. fluff, established relationship, reader is a tennis player, ect !

notes. i know literally nothing abt tennis so i hope i did this justice.. its so barely there but i gen had no ideas what to write

The kitchen was filthy with flour and the sweet smell of Belgian waffles. Pedri was currently staring at the burnt—once fluffy and delicious, looking waffle. A line formed between his brows as he tried to figure out exactly where he went wrong.

You, standing a few feet away with a flour-splotched apron, stifled a laugh. “Baby.. How..” You start, but clamp your mouth shut when Pedri’s eyes snap to you with a warning look.

“Right. Okay, well, just.. put it in the trash. You can just start over. No big deal.” You smile lightly, striding over to his side and standing up on your tip toes, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Pedri sighed at the light touch before gripping the plate and moving toward the trash can.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind. You’d won your match at Wimbledon, which was a major accomplishment for you and many other tennis players alike. Pedri and his team had won the El Clásico.

So, today, you were celebrating with a breakfast fit for royalty—or they were supposed to at least. You forget that Pedri's kitchen skills were subpar at best.

You’d been put on bacon duty, which you gladly accepted. Easy to do, and made sure that you could keep your eye on the waffle maker since your boyfriend’s attention couldn’t seem to stay on it.

Instead, he’d attempt to drift toward you, hands sliding around your waist for about five seconds before you swatted at them and scolded him—

“Pedro. Get your ass back to the waffles.”

And now, he was facing the consequences of his actions.

Both of the waffles in it had burnt.

“I swear, I was watching this time!” Pedri groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. “Cariño..” He whines, setting the now-empty plate on the table. “Can you just.—“

Rubbing your temples, you rolled out your sore wrist. Your opponent had most definitely given you a run for your money yesterday. “Just go set the table.”

Pedri’s lips pulled into a small grin. “‘M sorry.” He mumbled against your hair, placing a quick kiss to the too of your head.

Tilting your head up, you rolled your eyes. A hint of amusement passes across your face as he tips his head, capturing your lips in a slow, warm kiss.

“It’s okayyy.” You murmur against his mouth, “just go set the table and start cleaning the dishes.” Nodding, he let go of you and walked to the cupboard.

While Pedri did the dishes and you made the waffles, conversation flowed between you, and by conversation.. well, it was mostly you complaining.

“In the beginning, I thought I was going to twist my ankle I was running back and forth so much. She had a strong ass wrist, babe. I literally have never had to put in so much effort.” You dramatized your words, which had your boyfriend chuckling.

“You ran track in high school, I’m sure you were fine.” He shakes his head in short laughter, setting a spatula into the dish washer.

Your head turns to face him, eyes narrowing. “Alright, that was like—nearly four years ago.”

“Well, couldn’t be me.” Pedri shrugs.

Okay, ego.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

“When our bodies aren’t dying, we’re so racing.”

Ping!

Waffles were done, everything set out… you and Pedri feasted.

When you both finished and exhaled long, dragged out breaths, leaning back into your seats, you met each other’s eyes. “Holy shit, I don’t think I can eat ever again.” Pedri grumbles, head tipping back as his hand rubbed his stomach as if to soothe the ache.

“Me neither.” You almost laugh, but couldn’t bring yourself to make the sound in fear of upsetting your stomach.“Let’s go back to bed and never leave.”

And with that, Pedri walked around the table, reaching out his hands for you to take before pulling you to your feet. Both of you glanced at your dirty plates and cups then to each other.

“We can put them away later.”

You nod and let him drag you to the bedroom.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @spidybaby @be11ingham @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to @cececarmona17 @piastri-fvx @st4rgirl-ellie

[edward-munson]

I don't care | S.H.

Summary: Taking care of Steve after he was attacked by an army of demobats seems like a lot of work, only because apparently he doesn't like you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of injury, allusion to smut

Word count: 2.2k

☆°•○♡

"You want them spicy or not?" You ask Steve as you make nachos for dinner for both of you.

He's lying on the couch, on his back. He still recovers from the attack of the demobats. His neck is almost fully scarred, but the bites on his stomach and his sides are still painful. You've been laying low together for close to two weeks.

Your friends didn't want to make you team up with them to find Vecna and kill him. Not that you're not brave or strong enough to do so. But you're still pretty new to all of this and someone had to stay with Steve. So you didn't even bother opposing the idea, even though he's not your biggest fan.

God knows why, he never told his reasons. And your friends didn't know either. Maybe Eddie did, but he wouldn't open his mouth about it.

"I still think this is really unnecessary. I'm not a fucking child" He complains as he walks past the kitchen door, leaning against the sink.

With crossed arms, he looks at your food. You made chilli beans, guacamole and cheese sauce for the spicy nachos. You look up at him, trailing your eyes on his neck for an instant before raising an eyebrow to him.

"You can't even hold your own weight, Harrington. Stop being a crybaby".

Steve scoffs at you, but doesn't move an inch from his position. "Jesus, I wish we had another plan".

You drop the spoon you were using, turning your face to look at him. "I'm only doing this because they asked me to. Get off your own ass".

You leave the kitchen, walking out to the bedroom you were sleeping on. You were staying at his house. It's not like there were other options, but you couldn't refuse to stay there when he's alone and barely walking. Well, he can walk. The worst part is that he needs rest because of his wounds.

The past two weeks you've been quite getting along. Not that much, really. It's not like you were friends. Probably more like close acquaintances. Because obviously, he was the one pushing you away.

You didn't leave your room for a while, you were too annoyed to eat, and since it was dinner for the two of you, it didn't feel like you should eat anymore. You decided to spend your time watching something on the TV, which would easily make you get bored.

And then you would read books, or write stuff. It's been pretty tough lately since Vecna appeared. Max almost got killed and now she was staying at Dustin's house. The other kids were coming back to Hawkins to help, maybe Eleven might be able to do something about that.

You actually wished you were doing something fun. Like, taking a trip to the beach or snowboarding since it's fall and the weather has been cold. Your thoughts were pushed back by a knock on the door. Steve didn't open it and you didn't mention doing it either, so he just stayed there.

"Sorry I was an idiot" His voice came out muffled through the closed door. "I know I've been cranky and annoying".

You only opened the door after a couple of minutes, not exactly sure if he was still there. But he looked up from the floor at you. "You used to be nice. I mean, way before this curse happened".

He stayed quiet, because you were right. But what else can he do if the world was turned upside down (almost literally) again? And you almost got them killed once, not on purpose of course.

You were also the one to get too close to Robin and he hated seeing his best friend sharing her friendship with someone else. Because up until then, he was the only one she was the closest he had to a friend, even though he had a strong relationship with Eddie too.

None of it was your fault, but he grew annoyed over you. He couldn't lie to himself and say you weren't too kind and helpful. But he started to become extremely unenthusiastic over you through the year.

"A lot has happened since then. I'm trying to live up to the fact that we're against another monster again" Steve leans an arm against the doorframe, but refuses to keep his gaze at you.

"Which isn't my fault, by the way. Not to mention I'm the one who pulled you out of the watergate before you were eaten".

Another few seconds of silence, which was followed by a sarcastic nasal laugh. He shook his head and hung it low to the floor.

"Oh, you want a prize for that? Because I remember clearly when I didn't ask for your help!" His words were harsh, even if not intended.

But now you were the one who didn't know what to say. Until you feel the bitter taste on your tongue.

"Guess I should've let them rip your skin apart, then".

He saw the door shutting in front of him, cursing himself for being extremely idiotic and insensitive. He almost felt like punching his own face for that.

Steve heard you talking to Eddie that night through your walkie talkie. It was a little bit hard to hear because the reception was static for you. But you could listen to Eddie and God, you missed him and the others. It started to become unbearable to live with Steve. He heard you lament the whole situation, complaining about the way you were treating each other.

He was bitter about the things they were going through. He was angry he couldn't have done more. And he was taking it out all on you. He couldn't face another apology on the same day, because he knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven. Not right now.

The next day, he made breakfast by himself. It took you by surprise, but by the time you were up, he had already eaten. And you wouldn't want to eat with him either. You remember Nancy saying the bickering was just "sexual tension" but you knew it didn't have anything to do with that.

Even though you felt your ears burning from the thought, you couldn't deny to yourself that he was pretty charming. And seeing him shirtless whenever he would change the gauze made you feel weird. God, his hair was always pretty while yours looked like a bird nest after waking up.

The day seemed to have lasted longer since you haven't exchanged a single word to each other. He was focused on watching movies, playing video games and listening to music. He was getting bored out of his mind, but there wasn't much he could do being injured.

You, on the other hand, went out to do some errands. In fact, you didn't care you left him alone. You were getting tired of staying inside. So you went to see Max, and invited her to eat at Burger King. She seemed to feel better to do something like that too. Everything seemed pretty fuzzy lately.

Will, Mike and Eleven were pretty close to Hawkins. Thanks to Argyle who thinks he's a speed racer, and Jonathan who encourages him to drive long hours so they can arrive as soon as possible.

It was almost 7 PM when you came back home. You've finally had some fun after a week. You obviously couldn't be going out since they still haven't found Vecna and he knows about you too. The man in front of you seemed pretty pissed that he didn't see you were out until he woke up two hours ago.

"What? Don't give me that father look" You dropped your backpack on the floor and followed upstairs.

He's got a whole show prepared and he wasn't feeling like he would regret it this time.

"You know you can't just fucking go out and yet, you still do" He walked behind you, like a mother scolding a child.

"Yeah, dad. I know so. But here I am, back in pieces" You turned on your heel to look at him before closing your door.

Much to your dismay, he was faster this time, holding it with his right foot and right hand. Even injured, he was still stronger than you.

"No, don't push it. You can be an easy target for him, you know that?"

You huff, dropping your arm to your side. "Look, Harrington. I'm an adult, and I'm very aware of what I do or don't do. So please, just stop making a scene and leave me the fuck alone".

Steve couldn't even stand arguing with you anymore, it was so tiring. But he knew he would blame himself if something ever happened to you out there. He couldn't let this happen to you, even though you've been annoying him for whatever reason.

He took a step towards you, his hands balling into fists. The way your eyes were boring into him in an unamused face irritated him even more.

"Look, honey" His tone was purely sarcastic and you felt it not only in his voice, but in his demeanor too. "You know you're putting yourself at risk doing that. If I'm not fucking sure you're safe as well, I won't live with that".

At each passing second, you could feel him walking to you, but you couldn't walk back. You couldn't run from him, you couldn't get away from him. You wouldn't, you didn't feel like you wanted to.

"And not just because of my friends, they sure would kill me. But because I couldn't lose another person" You feel his breathing hitting your face, his eyes flicking as he looks at you.

He looks down at you with such intensity, it's crazy how there's a magnetic pull towards him.

You hold his gaze, feeling a cold shiver down your spine. He didn't look like he was about to snap at you, even though his tone was a bit loud.

He furrows his brows when he sees your lip curling into a smirk. "Well, Steve" His fingers move by the sound of his name, you always call him Harrington. "I thought you didn't care if I died or not".

This time, he was the one to smirk at you. "Honey, I don't remember saying I never cared about you".

Your stomach sank at that. Because now as you think of it, it comes crashing down as a realization that he never really said anything related to that. He truly never spoke about it.

"Doesn't seem like it"

"You see, this is why you annoy me so much" His nose bumps into yours, but he still gazes at you like he doesn't mean to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah? Then you should–" He doesn't let you finish your sentence.

Steve crashes his lips against yours, his hands flying down your hips. He feels your immediate reaction as you don't correspond right away. For a few seconds, he thinks he's done the wrong thing and almost regrets it, until you grab him by the neck with both hands. You wrap your fingers around his neck, your fingertips grazing the nape of his hair.

Your lips are smacking his lips in a hurry, while he runs a hand to cradle your face. He slips his tongue into your mouth and holds his breath when he feels your tongue moving in sync with him. He doesn't want to admit this is what he wished he could've done before.

Steve has been so stressed lately that he could only think about defeating Vecna. He didn't realize how much you were willing to take care of him these weeks. All he knew was that he also had to take care of you. And this is why he became so angry when you left without him knowing.

Especially because if something did happen to you, he would feel the regret of being an asshole to you.

He rips a low whimper from you when he gently grasps your lower lip by his teeth as he heaves against your mouth. You're both too absorbed into your own feelings, leaving grunts and gripping each other everywhere.

His fingers were digging your skin every time you would kiss his jawline and he was growing eager. He didn't want to look like he was trying to take advantage of you, only noticing now how much you also wanted this.

He then roughly pulls your shirt off, watching as your chest is quickly rising and falling. And his eyes sparkled when he saw your cleavage for the first time like that. Your bra perfectly hugging your round big breasts.

Steve didn't wait any longer, holding your waist and pushing you back against your bed.

That night, he pounded on you just like you dreamed about. He slapped his hips against your ass just like you wished someone would one day. The air was filled with sounds and lust.

You didn't even notice when your friends arrived right after he had an orgasm. You didn't have time to get dressed, only getting caught when Robin opened the door to you both naked. He didn't have time to remove his condom. She saw you naked. And worse. She saw her best friend naked.

And you thought it was going to be awkward, until Eddie turned the awkwardness into "I knew these idiots would fuck".

The night was all about this. They decided to leave the Vecna subject for the next day.

[riddlesb1tch]

Mistaken Betrayal

Mattheo Riddle x reader

summary: Y/n sees an incriminating photo of her boyfriend with another girl and confronts him about it.

warnings: cheating, yelling, fighting, swearing.

“How could you do this to me, Mattheo?” you yelled, barging into his room, voice trembling with anger and betrayal.

Mattheo was lying on his bed, a book resting open in his hands. At your outburst, he snapped his head up, brows furrowing in confusion. His wide, startled eyes searched your face, waiting for you to explain. When you didn’t speak for a few seconds, only standing there with your hands shaking at your sides, he hesitantly asked, “Do what?”

You let out a humourless laugh before thrusting your phone in his face. On the screen was a picture of a guy and a girl, lips locked in a way that made your stomach churn. The guy had his hands tangled in her hair, pressed against the wall, completely lost in her.

And he looked exactly like Mattheo.

Mattheo’s expression flickered from confusion to realization to sheer panic in the span of a heartbeat. He stood up too fast, hands raised as if trying to calm a wild animal. “Y/N, I know how this looks, but I swear to you, that’s not me.”

You scoffed, a bitter sound that made his heart clench. “Not you? Mattheo, are you serious? Do you think I’m an idiot?” Your voice cracked at the end, betraying the heartbreak coursing through you. “I can fucking see that it’s you!”

Mattheo took a cautious step closer, as if approaching something fragile. “Sweetheart, listen to me—”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!” you snapped, stepping back, away from him. “I thought things were finally going well! I trusted you!” Your voice dropped to a whisper, the words trembling, raw. “I loved you.”

Mattheo felt his stomach drop. The past tense sent a fresh wave of fear through his veins. “Y/N, please,” he begged. “You have to believe me. I would never—”

“Then how do you explain this?” You held up the phone again, your hands trembling. The more you looked at it, the more the image seared itself into your mind, branding the betrayal onto your skin. “If it’s not you, then why does it look exactly like you?”

Mattheo opened his mouth but no words came. He ran a hand through his curls, frustrated, desperate. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the uniform, maybe it’s the hair—”

You let out a choked laugh, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Right. Because there are just so many guys at this school who look exactly like you.”

“Y/N—”

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I need to go.”

Panic flared in his chest. He reached for you, but you flinched, and that hurt worse than a curse to the heart. “Please, don’t walk away,” he pleaded. “Let’s talk about this.”

You shook your head, swallowing back a sob. “I need time, Mattheo. I need to process.”

And then you turned and walked away.

Mattheo watched you go, watched the way your shoulders curled inward as if shielding yourself from the pain. And the worst part was—he had no idea if you would ever walk back to him.

The days without you were unbearable. You avoided him like the plague, dodging his gaze in the hallways, slipping out of rooms the moment he entered. He tried—God, he tried—to talk to you, but every time, you brushed past him like he was nothing more than a stranger.

And it was killing him.

“Aww, Matty’s whipped,” Theo said teasingly. This resulted in a death glare from Mattheo, making Theo’s smile bigger.

“C’mon, Matty boy, don’t look so bummed out. She’s just a girl,” Draco teased further.

“I’m gonna whip your ass if you don’t shut the hell up, Malfoy,” Mattheo said angrily. He sighed in frustration, resting his elbows on his knees. “It was just a stupid misunderstanding. I don’t know how it got so blown out of proportion,” he vented.

Blaise, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward. “Wait, you said she showed you a photo, right? Do you still have it?”

Mattheo pulled out his phone, the cursed image burning his retinas.

Blaise’s eyebrows shot up, a devilish smile taking over his features. “Oooh,” he took the phone from Mattheo, turning the screen towards Theo. “That’s a different home being torn down here,” he remarked.

“What do you mean?” Mattheo asked.

“That’s the chick that cheated on her man,” Theo said to Mattheo, taking the phone from Blaise. “What was her name again?” he directed that at Blaise and Draco.

“Camille, I think,” Draco replied.

“Yes!” Theo affirmed.

Mattheo’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“The girl who cheated on her boyfriend,” Theo clarified. “And if it’s Camille, then the guy in the photo isn’t you.”

A spark of hope ignited in Mattheo’s chest. “Then who is it?”

Camille happened to walk by at that moment. Theo waved her over, grinning. “Hey, Camille, who’s the guy you cheated with?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “How do you know about that?”

Blaise simply turned the phone toward her. Camille blanched. “Where did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just give us a name and the photo will be forgotten,” Theo said smoothly.

Camille exhaled sharply. “Fine. His name is James McCallan, fourth-year Slytherin.”

Mattheo didn’t wait to hear anything else. He was already on his feet, sprinting out of the common room, his pulse hammering. He was going to fix this.

Twenty-five minutes, eighteen different inquiries, and one nearly broken nose later, Mattheo found James McCallan—snogging a Ravenclaw in an empty classroom.

Without hesitation, Mattheo grabbed him by the collar and dragged him through the halls. “What the hell, mate?” James protested, struggling.

Mattheo didn’t let go until they reached your dorm. He shoved James inside, making you jump in surprise from where you sat at your desk.

“Mattheo, what—”

“That’s him,” Mattheo panted, chest heaving. “The guy in the picture.”

James frowned. “What picture?”

Mattheo turned to you. “Show him.”

Your fingers trembled as you pulled up the photo, handing him the phone. James barely glanced at it before shrugging. “Oh yeah, that’s me.”

Silence fell over the room. The weight of your mistake crashed into you all at once. You had spent days ignoring Mattheo, hurting him, when all along… he had been telling the truth.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned to Mattheo. His face was unreadable, but there was something raw, something aching, beneath the surface.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, stepping toward him. “I— I didn’t—”

Mattheo exhaled sharply, and then suddenly, his arms were around you, crushing you against him. “I thought I lost you,” he murmured into your hair, voice thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, to see the pain you had caused lingering in his dark eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his lips—desperate, aching, a silent promise that you would never doubt him again.

Mattheo held you tighter, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of relief, love, and agony into it.

Because he almost lost you.

And he never ever wanted to feel that way again.

masterlist

[writer-freak]

Spoiled Rafayel x bodyguard reader

Idea: Spoiled bratty rich girl x bodyguard who's forced to put up with it

Warnings: Gn reader, fluff, AU, strong reader, Rafayel being overdramatic, Rafayel being a tease and a bit of a brat, pretty short I just wrote down whatever came to me A/n: I had this little idea of for a spoiled rich girl x reader and who would fit better for this type of a scenario than Rafayel. Reader isn't really meant to be Mc and this is more of an AU. Maybe I'm gonna write some more for this idea as I find it pretty fun.l

"You're not carrying me?" Rafayel blinked at you, all wide, expectant eyes, his lips forming into a pout. "But my legs hurt."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Your legs don’t hurt. You just don’t want to walk."

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I—"

"You literally just told me that your custom-made boots are the most comfortable things you've ever owned."

"A betrayal of this magnitude... and from my own bodyguard!" He dramatically leaned against the nearest wall, resting the back of his hand on his forehead.

"Rafayel."

"Look at me, left to suffer. The streets are so—so dirty, and here I am, expected to walk like some commoner."

You were this close to walking away and letting him figure it out himself. But no, you were his bodyguard, and no matter how insufferable and annoying he was, you were stuck with him.

Unfortunately.

"Listen, your highness," you drawled, grabbing his arm and forcing him back upright. "You have two perfectly good legs. Use them. Or do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you like a sack of potatoes?"

His eyes shined at that, a wicked smirk appearing on his lips. "Oh? How bold of you. Are you sure you can handle all this?" He gestured vaguely at himself. "I am quite the precious cargo."

You let go of his arm. "Walk."

"Ugh, fine." He sighed like you were asking him to climb a mountain instead of just taking a few steps. "But if my legs fall off, I hope you can live with the guilt."

This was your life. Babysitting a spoiled, dramatic, and entirely too attractive pain in the ass.

You weren’t sure exactly when things started to change.

Maybe it was the way he started listening to you more, actually taking your orders seriously instead of treating them like some funny suggestions.

Maybe it was the way he’d hover a little too close after a fight, his eyes scanning you for injuries, lips drawn into a rare frown.

Or maybe it was the way your heart didn’t jump in frustration anymore when he teased you, but instead, your heart jumped with some other more dangerous feeling.

"You know," Rafayel mused one day, sprawled across a luxurious couch while you stood stiffly by the door. "I think I've grown quite fond of you."

You arched a brow. "Oh? In a ‘you’re my favorite servant’ kind of way?"

He grinned. "In a my bodyguard is the only person I trust and also happens to be devastatingly attractive kind of way."

You stared at him. "Rafayel."

"Yes, my dear protector?"

You exhaled sharply, trying so hard not to let his words affect you. "You can’t just—just say things like that."

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering. "Why not? Does it fluster you?"

You turned away, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m leaving."

"But who's going to protect me from all the dangers of the world that are out to get me?"

"You'll be fine."

"Wait, wait!" He scrambled up. "Fine, fine! I won't tease you. At leasdt not as much." He looked at you, his gaze softer now. "But you are my favorite."

You sighed, but this time, you couldn’t quite fight off the small smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

Divider by: @cafekitsune