#wheres the one kid that i was responding to in the beginning who at least tried to understand the baseline fucking message of the plays

[robitherat]

See Im starting to come to the conclusion that I don't hate these other two ppl in my theater class because I'm autistic and have this idea that my opinions on things are the only correct opinions. I mean it is that. But it is also just that they are fucking stupid as shit. How is it possible that you could see Nora in "A Doll's House" as an unsympathetic character for what you call *checks notes* throwing away her husbands apology and abandoning her children in favor of "self discovery". Did you even try to read the play. And this is the adult in the class !!!! This is a woman with children who works in a school !!!!! How are you so bad at this !!!!!!!!

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[the-raindeer-king]

(A/N: prt 3 of Mama Riley! One use of pronouns but it's nothing too gendered. Ignore any spelling error. I wrote part of this half asleep.)

Silence stretches out between you and Mama Riley. She's dropped an absolute bombshell of information so casually, as if it was like talking about the weather. And she's so confident in her statement, leaving no room for argument.

You're not entirely sure how to respond. But you manage to squeak out, “Is that so?” which is such a bad response. You can't help but cringe at yourself.

It makes Mama Riley laugh though. She really does like you. You're a firecracker, in her opinion, and she thinks you'd be good for Simon. But she promises that if you don't want to date him, that's okay. You two were friends before Simon caught feelings, and she won't let anything change that. She tells you to at least consider it.

You spend the next week considering it. Looking back over your interactions with Simon, knowing how he feels, it feels almost obvious. He's tense around you because he likes you. He keeps bringing you gifts and remembering your favorite drink because he likes you.

But where do your own feelings lie? You hated him in the beginning, and gradually warmed up to the mountain of a man. But do you have feelings for him? The thought process makes your head spin, and there's a weird feeling in your chest. The question is no closer to being answered.

Not until he returns from deployment. He's got a new scar on his ear, and there's a limp in his walk. Caught a knife in the side, just barely missed anything important, he informs you and his mum. And your heart clenches at the thought.

Before you can really think about it, you're scolding him for being so casual about being injured. He's got people who care about him, he can't be so flippant about these things. He has a reason to come home, so he needs to act like it. If not for his own sake, then for you and his mom.

Despite the fact that you're chewing him out, there's this tender look on his face, affection in his eyes. He quietly huffs out a ‘yes ma'am/sir’, and the warmth in his eyes is reflected by the warmth growing on your cheeks.

There's a pause, something heavy in the air. Simon opens his mouth, ready to say something, but the moment is broken when Mama Riley comes bustling into the living room, dinner plates in hand. Her eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. But she doesn't comment on anything, just passes out dinner and settles down on the loveseat.

Over the next few weeks, you and Simon have a lot of tense moments, ready to finally admit your feelings to each other. But each time is ruined by some interruption. Mama Riley interrupts, your phone rings. Once, the kids down the hall came running past, shrieking about the upcoming snowfall.

Poor Simon is trying not to totally lose it. This is the closest he's gotten to admitting his feelings, to have you finally, and every time something interrupts you. He doesn't want to mess this up. It needs to be perfect because, in his head, that's what you deserve, that's how he's going to win you over. Unbeknownst to Simon, he's already won your heart. He just needs to ask you out.

Once again, it's Mama Riley to the rescue. You three have a tradition: the days leading up to Simon's next deployment, you all spend the night at Mama Riley's flat together. Now, Simon's on leave for the next few weeks, but she can't bear to watch the two of you struggle like this.

So she invites you both over, insisting that it'll be nice to have you both over for something fun instead of sad. And then she conveniently remembers that she's got a book club tonight, and she leaves, telling you two to get comfy, watch a movie. She'll be back.

Now's a better time than never, especially since Mama Riley's practically given you the chance. She's gone all of two seconds, before you whip your attention onto Simon, blurting out, “Your mom told me you're in love with me. Is that true?”

[t1red-twilight]

don’t call me “d”

summary: a girl pushes herself onto dean during a case.

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst?, fluff?, light hurt/comfort

notes: sorry if your name is victoria. i’m sure you’re lovely

word count: 1.6k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you, dean, and sam were currently up north in new england working on a case. just the morbid usual: a couple of strange deaths, all the doors were locked, et cetera, et cetera. the most recent victim was a man named evan, who was almost decapitated.

halfway through interrogating the most recent victim’s friends and family, the victim’s sister decided that she would tag along. she had caught on to what the three of you were actually investigating and she wanted in.

her name was victoria, but insisted that she be called vic. a feisty thing, she was. ‘vic’ had long red hair, and did not care for any sort of personal space. at least, with dean she didn’t. when you introduced yourselves to her, it was explicitly expressed that you were dean’s partner. she didn’t care to respect that in the slightest.

at first, she was seemingly respectful. this façade didn’t last long. soon she was fruitlessly flirting with dean and completely ignoring both you and sam.

it didn’t help that perhaps in another circumstance she might’ve been dean’s type. she was tall and slender with a playful attitude. you knew from the beginning that you were in for a long one.

vic’s brother had an uncle that he was close with. she had willingly given his address, and that’s where the four of you were headed.

you grumbled in annoyance. vic had not let dean have any space, no matter how hard he tried to walk in tandem with you. eventually you had just given up and just walked beside sam.

it was evident that you were pissed, sam immediately sensed how livid you were. “you alright?”

“just peachy!” you replied, sarcasm flooding your tone. as you said this, dean turned and slowed so that he could walk with you and sam. you tried to distract yourself by examining the neighborhood, but your train of thought was cut off by dean speaking in a confrontational tone.

“victoria, you can leave. we’ve got this. we’re professionals.” dean gave her a deadpan look and when she didn’t move, he followed with a tautly-stretched smile. she still didn’t move.

“don’t be silly, d. i’m coming. evan was my brother.” dean muttered a couple profanities under his breath.

the look of irritation very present on his face. this didn’t last long as you had reached your destination.

vic did the honors of knocking on her uncle’s door. it took the man a moment to answer, and when he did he was clearly in a state of distress. it makes sense when one of your close relatives meets an untimely, violent end.

however, what vic did next shocked you to your core. when her uncle answered the door, she reached behind her and pulled dean to her side. then she spoke in a loud, clear tone, “this is my boyfriend, dean, and his friends. we just wanted to talk about evan, see how you’re holding up. is that alright?”

the man nodded and opened the door, but when you and sam were about to walk in she shut it in your faces. she wiggled her fingers at you in a wave. your blood was boiling. what did she think she was doing? did she honestly think that by forcing herself on dean would make him want her?

you turned and sat abruptly on the porch stairs. sam followed you. “she’s a little, uh, spirited, isn’t she?” sam turned to look at you. your brows were furrowed and illustrated your expression with the disdain you were feeling.

“yep.” you responded curtly. you were seeing red. sam tapped his foot against the concrete in impatience. “i don’t like her.”

“she’s extremely pushy.” sam sighed. the both of you sat in silence for about half an hour before dean and vic finally emerged.

dean reached down and helped you up off of the stairs. he then spoke broadly to sam and you. “well, the guy knows nothing more than what we knew. evan was a stand up kid who was suddenly found dead with defensive wounds, but no windows were broken or doors unlocked in his apartment. apparently he visited his uncle the night before it happened and was acting a little frantic.”

vic hung off of dean’s arm. “see, d, i told you. that old guy doesn’t know anything.

dean shook her off and gave her a curt smile. “don’t call me d.”

sam decided it was a good idea to look over evan’s apartment again. you had decided to look around the kitchen, where the body was found the morning after.

damn, evan’s apartment was cold. you wondered if that was the default setting or a symptom of something else. it was eerily quiet, too; quiet enough that your ears rung. you squatted to get a better look at the place where the body was found, and you saw some blood that had crusted over.

while you were examining the baseboards and the blood that had clearly been missed by the clean-up team, you heard someone approaching you from behind. “some blood was missed by clean-up. that’s gross, don’t you-“

you turned, fully expecting it to be one of the boys from the weight of the footsteps, but coming face-to-face with the spirit that had evidently killed evan. “dean! sam!” you shouted. you tried to get to your feet, but you weren’t fast enough. the spirit got close enough to you to knock you back.

unfortunately, neither party arrived before the spirit lunged at you and slashed your upper arm. the pain was sharp and quick, and you soon felt warm blood trickle out of the wound. the ghost vanished soon after.

you were able to find some bandages in the back of the impala and cover it up with a long sleeved button down of dean’s. you figured you’d worry about caring for it properly later once everything was over. hopefully, no one had seen how much you were bleeding and you could get away with pretending you were fine.

later that night, after some more snooping online (mostly on sam’s part), you could find the grave that held the corpse you were looking for.

dean had dug up the grave of said ghost. he salted it and burned it, and that was the end of it. you were quite surprised; in the past the burning hadn’t been too successful. if you were being honest, your rage blacked out most of the events that happened for the rest of the night.

the dirt crunched under your feet as you walked back to the impala. vic trailed after dean; your shoulders tensed. the scene mirrored a mother duck and her ducklings. luckily, you made it to the passenger seat before someone else could. you slammed the door and your arm stung with pain again. you hoped that no one had seen you flinch.

the ride back to vic’s place was awkward, to say the least. soft rock filled the silence, and that calmed you slightly.

the impala jerked to a stop in front of vic’s house. “do i really have to go, d?” she poured. how pathetic of her.

dean turned and answered her instantaneously. “yes, and don’t call me d.”

her pitiful pout worsened, “are you sure? we could have some fun?”

“yes. get out of my car.” when she didn’t, he followed up. “now, please.” finally she listened to what dean was saying and left. dean didn’t even wait to see her to get inside, he just sped off to the motel you were staying that night.

the motel bed was calling you. at arrival you practically jumped out of the car and into the room. it was just a typical run-down motel, but you couldn’t wait until you drove out of town and forget today ever happened.

“woah there tiger. wait up for the rest of us,” dean jogged to meet you. “let’s take care of your gash now, alright?”

you closed your eyes and sighed. suddenly you were extremely aware of dean. you were very much emotionally exhausted. “it’s not that bad. the bandage will hold up just fine.” at this, dean grabbed your hands.

“please? just let me take care of you.” the shines in his eyes was convincing enough.

that’s how you found yourself in the dirty bathroom, sitting on the toilet with dean sealing your wound with stitches. “you’re not mad at me, right?”

you were stumped that this notion. “no? why would i be?” you blinked in poorly veiled shock.

he spoke plainly, “because victoria was falling all over me all day today.”

you looked astray to the confusing red shower curtain. “that’s not your fault though. it’s not your fault that she can’t respect your boundaries.”

“i just care about what you think, you know,” he stated, not looking away from binding your arm with more gauze.

hesitating, you thought both about what to respond with and how you actually felt about the whole situation. you thought it was clear that you weren’t mad at dean. you were just mad at how vic couldn’t stand that one man couldn’t want her. well, obviously it hadn’t been. how long had dean thought you were upset with him? did he-

dean broke the silence. “i lost you there for a second.”

you shook off your thoughts. “oh, sorry. i don’t blame you for her actions at all. you stated what you wanted several times. kind of crazy that she fully ignored us telling her we’re together,” you expressed with a lopsided smile.

he looked up into your eyes, “so we’re good?” his green eyes showed the slight apprehension he still carried.

you lightly tugged your arm out of his hold and held his face in your hands. “of course we are, d,” kissing his forehead afterward.

“i love it when you call me that,” he smiled.

“you missed,” he said.

“huh?”

“you missed.” he guided your face down toward his and greeted your lips with his. you kissed him in a way that you hoped affirmed him that you were both okay. that today hadn’t changed how you felt about him in the slightest. you felt him grin against your kiss. you pulled away and smiled at him.

suddenly you were aware of the toilet seat beginning to be uncomfortable as you sat, so you stood. dean followed.

“it’s cold out. let’s go warm up,” he said impishly. while flirtatious, you were aware he meant just to sleep.

“yeah, that sounds great,”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Family game night never ends well in your family, unless Toji wins (Spoiler alert: He rarely wins.)

Warnings: Fluff, Toji gets upset causing his kids to get upset.

*Little drabble from A Pearl and You, My Angel and My Saint, you don't have to read either to enjoy this cute little (yet chaotic) family!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Family game night is a complete nightmare in your household. It’s not because of your kids but because of your husband. You’re not surprised that Toji is competitive, if anything, you’d be shocked if he wasn’t. You’ve been with Toji for so long that you know what behaviors to expect from him, which is why you’re hesitant to have a family game night.

“Look what I found!” Eight-year-old Misumi brings an old board game to the living room where the family is at. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, looking at the old box of candy land. Immediately he shakes his head, speaking up,

“Throw that shit out!” Megumi says.

“Language!” Kenji and Kamiko call out their older brother, causing you to laugh. You wonder why Megumi has such a strong reaction to the game, but then he glances at his father and you have a single scenario in your head: Toji yelling at Megumi because he lost in candy land. You glance at Toji who looks away in shame, knowing that what you’re thinking is exactly right.

“I wanna play!” Misumi exclaims, and the three-year-old twins are the first ones to agree. They don’t really get games, leaving them teamed up with you and Toji. You look at Toji and a sigh leaves his lips.

“I guess… You in, Gumi?” Toji looks at his eldest son, and Megumi is about to say no, but he looks at Misumi, and she gives him puppy eyes. He guesses he can be a good big brother at least once a while, right? How bad can it be?

“Yeah. Whatever.” Megumi responds, making Misumi open the box and put the game down on the coffee table. Kenji runs to his father, hoping that they’ll play together, while Kamiko runs to play with you. You all pick your respective pieces and begin to play.

The game starts off great, everything goes smoothly until your husband has to go back one spot. You notice Toji’s eyebrows furrowing, and he takes a deep breath. But the team recovers, and the game continues smoothly. Megumi surpasses Toji, which again, causes Toji to clench his jaw; in the end, he bites his tongue so nothing happens. Toji surpasses Megumi again. The game continues just fine again.

Toji and Kenji are so close to winning– Until Misumi surpasses them and wins. You immediately understand Megumi’s reaction when Toji flips over the game and raises his voice, “Damn you, Mimi! Next time I won’t be paired up with some snot-nosed brat!”

“Toji!” You yell at him, and you watch as both Kenji and Misumi’s eyes well up with tears. Misumi begins to sniffle while Kenji fully screams crying. Toji realizes how badly he’s fucked up, and he begins to comfort his son, kissing the top of his head over and over again before he begins to apologize. Misumi runs up the stairs crying, and Megumi stands up to comfort his little sister. 

“Mimi, wait! I’m sorry!” Toji stands up, holding his son as he runs up the stairs to comfort his daughter. 

You look down at your three-year-old daughter who sits on your lap. She shrugs, asking, “What was that?”

You kiss the top of her head before telling her, “Your daddy is a sore loser, baby.”

[eu-nicola]

jealousy

summary: you're jealous of a woman who approached Rafe

warnings: nothing

word counter: 2291

author's note: english is not my first language, writing something better but i left this here

You had known Rafe Cameron forever. Outer Banks was far too small for you not to cross paths with him every now and then, although you had always been from two completely different worlds. You were a Pogue, born and raised between sunsets on the docks and impromptu beach parties. He, on the other hand, was a Kook, living in the luxury and opulence of Figure Eight, surrounded by wealth that you had no interest in.

You had always thought Rafe was arrogant, self-centered, and often unbearable. And to be honest, he didn’t have a very different opinion of you. Every time you crossed paths at a party or on the docks, there were looks filled with disdain and cutting remarks. To him, you were a "loud Pogue," always ready to question him. To you, he was "the typical spoiled rich kid," used to getting whatever he wanted.

The funny thing is, you were both wrong.

Everything changed one night, one of those where the air was thick with salt, and the sky seemed like an infinite blanket of stars. You had gone to a beach party, invited by Sarah and Kiara, and, of course, Rafe was there with his usual entourage of friends. You had decided to ignore him as usual, but the events of that night wouldn’t allow it.

It all started with a sarcastic comment from him, something about how Pogues were always sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. You responded with an equally sharp retort, and before you knew it, you were engaged in an argument in front of everyone. You don’t exactly remember what you said, but it was enough to shut him up. Rafe gave you a look you had never seen before: a mix of challenge, interest, and something you couldn’t quite identify.

Later that same night, you found him alone, sitting on a rock near the water. It was rare to see him apart from his group, but something in you decided to approach him, maybe driven by curiosity or lingering anger. To your surprise, instead of continuing the fight, you talked. And for the first time, you saw another side of Rafe. A more honest, even vulnerable side. He talked about things you’d never have imagined bothered him, and you surprised yourself by being honest with him too.

That night marked the beginning of something neither of you expected.

At first, it was strange. It wasn’t like you suddenly got along. In fact, most of the time, you still argued, but the fights stopped being purely hostile. There was something electric about, a tension both of you pretended to ignore but became harder to hide every day. It didn’t take long before that tension spilled over.

The first kiss was an accident or at least that’s what you told yourselves afterward. It was during another argument, one that started over something insignificant but ended with both of you too close, too aware of each other. You didn’t know who made the first move, only that suddenly his lips were on yours, and everything you had thought about him crumbled in that moment.

From then on, things changed. You started spending more time together, first in secret, away from curious eyes and the judgments you both knew you would face. Surprisingly, it was Rafe who insisted on keeping your relationship private. “It’s complicated,” he told you once, and even though you didn’t like the answer, you understood why.

Still, the relationship progressed quickly. You spent almost every night at his place, though you never entered through the front door. He always found ways to make you feel special, whether it was sneaking you onto his bike to ride to the cliffs or staying up with you for hours, just talking. Despite your differences, you began to see how much you actually had in common.

Rafe, despite his confident, was someone with far too many inner demons. Sometimes, he would come home late, upset about something he wouldn’t tell you, but you found ways to calm him down. In turn, he was always there when you needed him. You learned to trust him more than anyone you ever had before.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect. Sometimes you fought, and you couldn’t help but wonder if what you had was sustainable. You were a Pogue, and that wasn’t going to change. He, a Kook, had a reputation to maintain, expectations to fulfill. Yet when you were with him, none of that seemed to matter.

What surprised you most was how much he truly cared about you. It was something you never would have expected from someone like Rafe Cameron. He treated you with a tenderness you never imagined he could have. When you were with him, you felt seen, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world.

The months flew by, almost like a sigh. You and Rafe were still together, closer than you’d ever thought possible at the beginning. What had started as something secret had become your refuge, a space where you could be authentic without the weight of the Pogue and Kook labels. But you couldn’t deny that being with him meant stepping into his world, a place you never quite got used to.

That night was yet another test of that.

You found yourself at an elegant party, one of those where everything about the atmosphere screamed "money." The music was soft, like a sophisticated murmur, and the place was filled with people who seemed all too aware of their status. The men wore perfectly tailored suits, the women donned dresses that probably cost more than your house, and everyone drank whiskey or champagne like it was water.

You had tried to fit in, wearing a pretty dress and styling your hair with care, but no matter how much you tried, you always felt like you didn’t belong. You stood near a table, idly playing with the rim of your wine glass, watching people chatter in small groups. Everything felt so superficial, so far removed from what you knew, it made you want to laugh.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Rafe. He was a little farther away, at the bar, with a whiskey glass in hand. His eyes were almost glassy, a clear sign he’d already had more than enough to drink. Despite everything, he looked incredible, as always. He had that presence that made people stare, that almost arrogant confidence that drove you crazy but had also drawn you to him in the first place.

However, you weren’t the only one who noticed his charm.

A blonde woman, probably in her fifties, was approaching him. She wore an elegant dress that fit her perfectly, carrying herself with the kind of confidence that screamed she always got what she wanted. She stopped in front of Rafe and smiled at him, a smile that made your teeth clench.

You watched as she leaned in, introducing herself with a handshake. Rafe, drunk but ever charming, smiled back and soon they were talking like old friends. After a moment, they moved to a nearby table, sitting across from each other.

You weren’t the jealous type, at least not in the classic sense. You never felt the need to control what Rafe did or who he talked to. But there was something about this woman, about the way she looked at him and smiled, that made your blood boil. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt it deep in your chest.

You took a sip of your wine, trying to ignore it. But the discomfort didn’t go away, and before you could stop yourself, you were already walking toward them. You stopped next to Rafe, placing a hand on the back of his chair, and glanced at the woman.

She noticed you immediately and gave you a smile that seemed far too fake to be polite.

“Oh, hello,” she said in a high-pitched tone, as if surprised to see you there.

“Hello,” you replied quietly, keeping a neutral expression.

The woman shifted her attention back to Rafe, as if you no longer existed.

“Who’s she?” she asked curiously, gesturing toward you with a subtle tilt of her head.

Rafe glanced at you briefly before turning to the woman. It took him a moment, probably more due to the alcohol than anything else, but he finally answered:

“This is my, uh, friend.”

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words but said nothing. The woman, who apparently was named Hollis, gave you another smile and nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Rafe’s friend.” Her tone was friendly, but there was something in it that set your nerves on edge.

After a few more comments, Hollis finally got up. Before leaving, she handed Rafe a card, which he accepted without hesitation. You watched as she walked away confidently, and once she disappeared into the crowd, you turned your attention back to Rafe.

“Who’s she?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Rafe rubbed his forehead, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol, and looked at the card in his hand.

“She’s the biggest real estate agent on the island. Also, apparently, a cougar.”

Your reaction was immediate: a mocking laugh escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, sure. The biggest cougar on the island.”

Rafe kept looking at you with that smirk you loved to hate. You knew what was coming; you recognized that spark of amusement in his eyes whenever he found an opportunity to tease you.

“So?” he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his warm breath brushing your skin. “Are you jealous?”

You stared at him without flinching, even though you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t going to give in so easily. You raised an eyebrow and adopted a nonchalant tone, though deliberately defiant:

“Should I be, friend?”

That stopped him for a second, but only for his grin to widen even more. He leaned in closer, reducing the distance between you until your faces were dangerously close. You felt your heart begin to race, but you held your ground.

“Friend?” he repeated, his deep voice dropping even lower. He leaned in until his nose brushed yours, his teasing smile making you want to laugh and hit him at the same time. “Is that all I am to you?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling but decided it was time to hit back.

“Maybe I should go find JJ.”

Rafe’s smirk disappeared for a second. You saw him tense, and before you could step back, he grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your chest colliding with his. His gaze locked on yours, intense and dangerous, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that made him even more irresistible.

“Don’t tempt me. You know JJ can’t make you feel what I do,” he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with something deeper.

Your breath hitched for a moment, but you weren’t going to give in that easily. You looked at him with a challenging smile and raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds like a warning, Cameron. And you know I don’t like warnings.”

He smiled, that arrogant smile you knew so well, and before you could say anything else, he tilted his head, and his lips found yours. The kiss was so sudden you almost lost your balance, but his firm hands.

The world seemed to disappear in that instant. You couldn’t hear the murmur of the party or the soft clinking of champagne glasses around you. All you felt was Rafe, his warmth, his intensity, and the way his mouth claimed yours as if he was trying to prove a point.

When he finally pulled back, just enough for his lips to still brush against yours, he smiled again, triumphant.

“Are you going to run off to JJ now?” he asked in a whisper, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain your composure, though the way your heart raced gave you away.

“You’re an idiot.” But you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“And yet, you can’t resist me.” His tone was cocky, but there was something softer in his gaze, something that made you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

You gave him a small shove on his chest, though you didn’t make much effort to pull away from his arms.

“Next time I see you talking to Hollis or any other “real estate agent,” you said, emphasizing the words with a slightly mocking tone, “you better remember who I am.”

Rafe let out a low, charmingly husky laugh as he nodded.

“Believe me, baby, there’s no one at this party, or on this island, who could ever make me forget who you are to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of showing it, you simply lifted your chin and looked at him with a satisfied smile.

“You better not. Because I’m not good at sharing.”

He looked at you as if you were confirming something he already knew, and before you could say anything else, he kissed you again, this time softer, as if he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind. And as you got lost in that moment, you knew that, no matter how chaotic things were with Rafe, he would always have the power to undo you with just one kiss.

[fanged-fanfics]

Creatures Commandos platonic request, can you do Dr. Phosphorus x Child! Venom Reader (the only difference between them and OG Venom is that they can withstand extreme heat.), I need this radioactive skeleton man to be a dad again.

Y/N was abandoned by their family as a toddler, which gave them extreme abandonment issues, they get attached to Phosphorus and he lets them because they can touch him and he misses being a dad. You cannot tell me that he DOESN’T miss being a dad.

☆ Of Flames And Little Flickers — Dr. Phosphorus & Venom!GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Pokolistan wasn't exactly the worst place to bring a kid, most figured. But most people weren't on a mission to keep an insane purple villainess from tearing up the local government. Phosphorus didn't exactly find the idea of you tagging along to be a fond one— he loved having you around, but this could easily become an assassination mission at the flip of a dime. Considering what you had to go through before, he didn't wanna risk you getting any more hurt. But your abilities were deemed too valuable to go without, so there you were, traveling locked up in the same car with the rest of the monsters.

The long plane trip gave you jetlag more than anything, and you didn't manage to get good sleep after being dragged out so early to get on the flight. After Phosphorus forcefully positioned Weasel to the other side of the car, he made sure you could sit beside him. You were in a staring contest with GI Robot before Phosphorus gently nudged you, pointing out to the window behind his head. "See all that, kid? It's riding on your slimy little shoulders to keep all that from blowing up" he said. He made a motion with his hands to mimic a combustion, flaring a little brighter as he made the sound effect himself. You laughed at the display, and he chuckled while rubbing the top of your head.

"Not too worn out, yeah? We got a big day protecting this princess" he asked you. You shook your head "Nuh-uh. It's just... early". "Well, it's midday by now, kid, a little too late for 'early'" Phosphorus responded back. You groaned, sitting back in your seat "Why did it feel like we got dragged out so soon?" You complained. "Timezones, bud" Phosphorus said "Had to get up early to be here on time. It's a whole new country". You paused, soaking in the reminder of the unfamiliar landscape. You scooted closer to him, grabbing hold of his sleeve. Phosphorus wrapped his arm around you in return. Jeez, it'd been 15 years since he was able to have this. Someone who could stand to be near him, and who actually trusted him enough to lean on.

"You getting tired there, little hellraiser?" He asked, seeing you beginning to nod off. You stubbornly shook your head, mumbling in protest. He chuckled once more, pulling you up close to his side. To the average person, it was deeply scalding and searing to the touch. But to you, it was like being pressed against the warmest heater that could ever be offered. Your wide eyes slowly fall shut, feeling the comforting repetitive motion of Phosphorus petting your back to soothe you. Your head falls onto his form, using him as a foundation to lean on. He'd been that ever since you arrived, really. Support, stability, a shoulder or hand to reach out to. A jaded and crude support beam at times, sure, but he did his best to conduct himself at least a little bit around you.

While you slowly drifted to sleep, Phosphorus kept his gaze on you, seeing how you were able to relax against him. It was a familiar sight, one that made what was left of his heart ache. He looked up, seeing Bride not far at all taking note of it as well. He held a finger over where his mouth used to be to signify quiet. The stitched lady gave a sigh that showed she wasn't very impressed but, well, when was she ever? Phosphorus moved his coat to wrap it around your shoulders for extra protection, using a hand to shield you from the sun. He gently pet your back a bit more before simply keeping his gaze looking around for you both. No one could tell except for Phosphorus himself, but this time, he really was smiling.

[kazzattack]

Pretty, pretty girl…

Dick Grayson x Black fem!reader x Jason Todd, w/c 2.6k

Synopsis;; You attend one of Bruce Wayne’s galas with your father, for the pure pleasure of seeing the infamous Wayne brothers, and end up being snuck into the manor for the night.

content;; 18+, threesome, oral (fem receiving, implied male receiving), face fucking (male receiving), brief chokehold, hair pulling, fingering, finger sucking, eye contact, lots of banter, technically mirror sex (bc I lowk forgot about the mirror oops), light degradation (whore, slut), brief dry humping, doggy style, manhandling (?), spanking for 2 seconds, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart), Jason’s a bit of a meanie, and Dick is… Dick, I think that’s it, poorly edited/proof read

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” you begin to mutter, frustrated that you agreed to attend in the first place. Still, you find the will power to put on your prettiest smile and runway worthy strut.

Functions likes these never served any entertainment for you, nor did you get anything out of it. Galas your father attends for the sole purpose of saving face, surrounded by rich scum and snakes. At least this is Bruce Wayne’s gala. One of the only billionaires you find tolerable. The only people worth going for are those Wayne boys, though. Pure eye candy. You couldn’t pick a favorite out of the two.

Dick Grayson’s the first to greet you, eyes darting up and down over your figure before meeting your eyes. “Hey pretty lady,” he sing-songs, friendly and welcoming despite the telling glint in his eyes. Wayne’s prodigal son, the first, and he definitely fits the title. Dick is almost surprisingly sweet, pouring you wine and complimenting the shiny gold jewelry around your wrists and neck, rather than the dress that rides just a bit high on your thighs when you sit in the chair he pulls out for you.

Jason Todd meets you with an unintentional death stare, bless his heart. Not to say you don’t do the same thing at first. If he wasn’t 6’1 and 200+ lbs of pure muscle stuffed into a red tux, he’d be easier to miss. At first you don’t even realize his connection to Dick, let alone Bruce Wayne, but you quickly take notice of the familial banter from afar. As of now, you two share the commonality of not really wanting to be here. The two of you only get the chance to properly speak thanks to the loud-mouthed brother, followed by the chance to subtly gawk at each other, of course.

The two of them, though most of the effort is through Dick, make most of the event fly by. You take part in shameless flirting with the leaner of the two, laugh a few times at Jason’s more snarky jabs, and before you know it? Your father’s left wondering where his daughter ran off to. Guess you’ll have to figure out how to tell him two out of many of Wayne’s kids are busy trying to sneak you into his manner.

The… guest bedroom? Is awfully large, along with the bed, and the nightstand, and the mirror you use to make eye contact with Dick. They’ve put you under the impression to have made it past the security system, but realistically they both know Bruce has been notified of your presence. They also trust the billionaire playboy will mind his business. And besides, the old man should be the least of your worries when Dick tugs your dress up, followed by Jason’s calloused hands running up your thighs.

“You’re shameless,” you tease, settling yourself between Dick’s legs with your back against his chest while Jason lowers his overwhelming stature in front of you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of it,” he corrects, grabbing the tiny zipper between his fingertips to expose more skin. “Especially not from that one down there.”

Jason scoffs, sliding your heels off as he responds. “I’m almost positive she knows what you are. Hard not to.”

“I know what I am,” Dick snickers into your ear, hands snaking over your figure. “You’re the one who stomps around acting like you’re too high and mighty for a little fun.”

You muster up the courage to jump in, urging Jason to come a little closer to your face. Despite the persona, you’ve both warmed up to each other throughout the night. “You too good for me, Jay?” You inquire, tugging him closer by his collar and tie. The glint in his eyes answers for you, giving away every intention he has for the rest of tonight.

“‘M just shy,” he jokes, though you’re not 100% sure he is. After a few drinks and the comfort of a seperate room, his eyes wander more freely, and it doesn’t take long before you notice Grayson’s gawking at you through the mirror as he undresses. “Not that you’ve gotta worry about that anymore.”

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

Jason was no longer shy, clearly.

“Oh my god, Jay-“ you moan above him, head resting on Dick’s shoulder as one hand roams around your upper body. The other curls under your knee, supposedly holding your legs open as opposed to closing around Jason’s head while his tongue flicks against your clit.

“Fuck, you sound gorgeous,” Dick whispers as he sucks another hickey into your collarbone, and you feel a smooth hand wrap around your neck and rest there. “You gonna make those pretty noises for me too?” His tone is sultry and teasing, though you aren’t sure if it’s meant to provoke you or the short-tempered brother between your legs. You haven’t spent that long with them, but it’s been long enough for you to learn of Jason’s competitive edge and Dick’s insufferable tendencies to get under his skin.

“You could always find out for yourself…” you manage to respond, circling your hips in time with the thick finger on your insides. The strength is found to pick your head up and look at Dick, who’s already watching you like a hawk. Eyes focused with an almost obsessive gaze, tongue grazing over your skin. You can tell he’s fixing his dirty mouth for a quip but you cut him off with a gasp as another finger is dipped into your cunt, breaking eye contact as your head falls back.

“Quit talking to him,” Jason grumbles into your heat, “just sit and look pretty like you were doin’.” His words are muffled and the bass in his voice vibrates against your leg, leaving no room for you to consider not listening to him. He’s sure you’d much rather listen to him after that debauched moan you let out anyway.

Your hand moves to tug on the white streak of Jason’s hair, blanking out for a moment as the tips of his fingers curl and thrust into you. “Aw, gonna let him ruin the fun?” Dick teases, “I still wanna look at that pretty face.” He fixes you after his comment flies over your head, gripping your jaw to face him in the mirror and letting go to see if you’ll focus on your own. Jason, still seemingly irritated with him, tightens his biceps around the plush of your thighs and pulls you further from Dick. He doesn’t like sharing either. Noted. You glance down at him, green eyes half lidded and entirely zoned in on your pussy. He doesn’t talk all that much, but he’s got his own filthy mouth, tongue dipping in with his fingers for a moment as his free hand circles your clit. This is where you learn that Dick has his own frustrations too. He needs control, power in his hands.

“No wonder you like her,” he grins, “she’s almost as hard-headed as you.” Through the hazy pleasure you giggle, not expecting the way his arm slots around your neck. There’s a gasp before a strangled moan and you clench around Jason’s fingers, hips bucking into his face and he groans into your pussy. You’re in a more compromised position now, and he’s looking you directly in the eyes while his free hand tweaks at your nipple, making you arch further away from him.

“Oh, the pretty lady likes this? You want it tighter?”

Shamelessly, you nod despite your restrictions and he listens, squeezing your head between his forearm and bicep. A familiar feeling coils in your tummy, pretty nails digging into the flesh around your neck as your leg wraps around Jason’s head. You’d feel bad if it weren’t for the needy groan against your cunt.

“Ohh, gonna come on his tongue from getting choked out? Yeah, let him know who you’re looking at while you fuck his face.”

Oh?

You’re ashamed of it, but the limited oxygen and lightheaded effect had you follow along without a thought.

“‘S you- fuck, Dick- I wanna…”

At this point, Dick’s sure he can see steam from Jason’s ears.

Still, his ministrations only go deeper, even if it’s not exactly of his free will. Thick nails dig deep into your hips and thighs to keep you in place as you orgasm and he helps you ride it out as he huffs and grunts. Meanwhile you’re right where Dick wants you, laying up against his chest and moaning against his forearm as if you were his bitch.

“Fuckin’ attention whore,” Jason sighs, easily moving your body further from Dick after practically yanking his arm from you. “Can’t go five minutes without begging for someone to look at you?” He’s clearly ticked off, but the frustration is also accompanied by the bulge of his dress pants pressing against your thigh. He hates the competition yet he undeniably craves it, and it’s clear in how much rougher his touches get. Jason moves to kiss up your body as his fingers curl at a slower pace, holding your hips in place to keep you from squirming underneath him.

“Jay-“ you sigh in bliss, hips trying to inch away as you sit up to look down at him. “Ja-son… ‘s too-“

“Shut up,” rude, “I know this pretty pussy’s beggin’ for it.”

“Struck a nerve? Sensitive much.” All he gets it a glare, rightfully so. You’d expect Dick Grayson to get in on more fun, but he’s just evil. He likes seeing a pretty girl like you squirm. Jason’s clearly more hands on, scissoring you open a few times before abruptly pulling away shoving his fingers down your throat. You’d be embarrassed by how easily you take it if the two of them weren’t mesmerized, watching while you suck his fingers clean of your own slick.

“We got us a pretty little slut, Jaybird,” Dick praises.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?”

“No, actually.”

“Well I am now, Dick.”

You get out a little giggle while they bicker before Jason flips you over, positioning your ass against his pelvis and guiding your hips back. You’d been too high in pleasure before to realize that Jason Todd is big, everywhere. His dick presses against you through his pants and you almost panic as he pushes you back and forth, watching your ass bounce against him a few times and you whine.

“Yeah, y’feel that?” He groans from behind you and only Dick can see the prideful grin on his face. “You’ll take it, baby, jus’ for me.” Still, you let out a little whine at his words and clench around nothing. What you can see is the bulge in front of you as your head rests between Dick’s legs, doesn’t look as big but it’s definitely enough. You have no right to complain.

Jason leans over to deepen your arch and you hear his belt unbuckle. You wanna tell him wait, but you’re too slow. The tip of his cock slips against your opening and you mewl, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Oh my god, Jay-“ you gasp before he pushes deeper inside of you.

“Fuck… what’d I tell you?” He grunts, already halfway inside. “Already so wet and you’re tellin’ me you don’t wanna get fucked?”

“Be nice,” Dick interrupts as his fingers curl into your hair gently, as if he didn’t have you moaning against his arm in a chokehold earlier tonight. He gets to be the nice one now, your handsome knight in shining armor. If that were entirely true, though, he wouldn’t be over so slightly forcing you back onto Jason’s cock with his other hand.

Dick’s order is easily disregarded once he’s all the way inside, and with a few thrusts, pulling all the way out before slamming you onto his cock, pretty nails are clawing at the fabric of Dick’s slacks and you muffle your moans into them with soft whines. “Ah-ah, sweetheart,” he hums from above you, cooing at you with a soft voice yet tugging your head up by the chin a little harshly to look at you.

“‘S big.. oh- fuck, Dick-“

“‘Scuse me?”

Oopsie.

“Now you’re in for it, doll.” The smile of amusement and lust on Dick’s face is almost demeaning.

“We got an ungrateful little slut,” Jason scowls, tugging so hard on your hair he might fuck it up if he doesn’t fuck you up first. His thrusts gain a brutal pace and he fucks you even deeper than before, leaning down to your face before he speaks again. “Here I am, face covered in your cum, fuckin this tight cunt with my cock and you’ve still got the nerve to be moanin’ for him? The fuck is he doing for you, huh? Tell me. Tell both of us.”

You can’t, even if you wanted to. Even if you could. Just from the close proximity, the way his dick hits that sweet spot harder and harder has you whimpering an incoherent apology and clenching around him. The only thing he can make out is the pathetic little “‘m sorry” as your hand moves to cover your face.

“Oh hell no,” he corrects you, grabbing your arm and folding it behind your back. You’re weaker than ever right now, no longer holding yourself up. In fact, Jason’s the one holding you, keeping you stable while he fucks the lights out of you.

“I think she wants it like this,” Dick chimes in, smiling like all you’re doing is putting on a show for him. Not that you mind, of course. You’re busy trying not to cry from the intensity, but you haven’t even realized your mascara’s been fucked up for a hot minute already.

“Yeah, you wanted this, right? Bet you thought you’d get it from that bastard,” Jason huffs a guttural laugh, “guess he shoulda told you about this thick dick.”

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, Jay- fuck, please,” you beg from beneath him, tightening around his dick as another orgasm has your moans higher pitched. “Wanna cum- lemme cum, Jason, please-!”

“Now you wanna moan my name?”

“Guess you fucked some sense into her.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Grayson.” The venom in his voice is for Dick, but unfortunately the anger gets taken out on you with a sharp smack on the ass and you yelp. “Give it to me,” he groans, “cum all over this cock.”

“Thank you- thank you, Jason-“

Your eyes roll, so far back you can see your skull as he fucks you throught it. You still babble on about how good he feels and he never lets up, focused on his own orgasm as he shoves your face into the mattress. Without another beat, he fucks you full, nasty fluids gushing around his cock as he finally calms down. You damn near back out, honestly, but distantly you can hear another belt buckle being undone.

“Y’done yet, Jaybird?”

“Not really,” he huffs through a deep groan, still rutting into you. “But go ahead. Just don’t piss me off again.” Dick fake pouts, pulling your face back up and you’re met with his length, throbbing and neglected.

“Wha…” you weakly moan, legs trembling and cunt twitching around Jason. Dick almost moans at the sight of your fucked out face, drool pooling at the corner of your lips and mascara smudged down your face. Still just as gorgeous, albeit more shameful than before. Dick can admit he prefers you with this look.

“We’ve still got plans for you, pretty girl,” he whispers, squishing your cheeks to push your mouth open before slapping the fat of his cock onto your tongue. “You still with us?”

“Mhm…”

“Good, good girl.“

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

a/n;; dick was supposed to have the upper hand for most of this but listen, things happen. writing this was honestly so fun but idk if it’ll ever happen again anytime soon </3. pls enjoy, like, comment and reblog, i’d appreciate it :p

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part five) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Rafe knocks again. And again. And again.

Your front door rattles in its frame, his knuckles still sore from the punches he threw at the bonfire last night.

He sat in the holding cell after being questioned by Brading, ruminating over everything he’ll say to you when he sees you. He needs to tell you that you’re right; the detective is onto you both.

Brading brought up your name, asking about Porter, asking what Rafe had over you that would make you want to protect him.

He’s confident you’re both guilty, but he doesn’t have the evidence to prove it. He’d booked him on a drug charge, telling him they’d searched his bedroom and found enough coke to arrest him for more than just possession.

His questions had nothing to do with that.

He demanded Rafe tell him about Porter, trying to provoke him into a confession. As he sat in the small, dingy interrogation room, your words echoed in his head. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer.

So, he didn’t. Brading gave up and threw him back into his cell. Rafe would’ve lost his temper if he didn’t have you to protect.

The lawyer came in with Ward early this morning. After Rafe told him about the arrest, the lawyer explained that Brading had abused his power by not providing Rafe with his right to make a phone call.

Rafe couldn’t make eye contact with his father as he was escorted into a courtroom for the bail hearing an hour later. The lawyer was well worth the money Rafe is sure his father is paying him. He was given a court date and granted bail, which Ward covered.

“I’m sorry I got mixed up in this, okay?” Rafe had muttered to his father in the car on their way home. “I’ll get clean. I’ll stop selling.”

“You should know better,” Ward sighed. “The cops showing up to our house like that… what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” he said.

“And what was that… about that missing kid? You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His own father jumping to the worst conclusion, even though it’s true, pierced the wound Rafe has held in his heart since childhood. He’s nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the family name.

Now, he’s at your front door, and he’s been knocking for what feels like five straight minutes. Nobody’s answering. The house looks empty. The car is gone.

He checks his phone again to see it’s almost two in the afternoon. All his texts and calls to you have gone undelivered.

He can’t even entertain the thought that you’re doing it on purpose; he knows you’re loyal to him. He never thought he’d trust somebody the way he trusts you, but he does, and he would never expect you to turn on him.

He needs to find you.

He makes his way to the country club, figuring you must be at work. When he rushes to the restaurant, tapping the bartop, he impatiently asks where you are.

The bartender looks at Rafe with a look he can’t quite read.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says. It’s the first time he used that title, but it feels right for what he has with you. “Is she working today or not?”

“Oh… I…” The bartender uneasily looks around the room. “I shouldn’t be the one to... I don’t…”

“What?” Rafe snaps.

“Our boss told us this morning,” he responds, his expression pained. He leans closer, hesitating as he says, “She was in a car accident and she didn’t make it. I’m sorry, man. I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you.”

Rafe straightens, his body flooding with a sharp, harrowing chill.

“You…” He shakes his head. “You got something wrong. You don’t�� you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but…” The bartender nervously shrugs. “Everyone liked her.”

Liked her. Liked. You’re not in the past tense. You’re here. You’re somewhere around here. The ringing in his ears grows louder. The man only shakes his head, frowning in sympathy.

“You’re confused,” Rafe repeats. “What did– who told you that?”

“My boss,” he tells him again.

Rafe erratically rushes out of the building, starting his car even though he doesn’t know where to go, and looks ahead with a blank stare as his chest heaves.

“No,” he mutters to himself, his voice strained. “No, this is– he’s fucking wrong. This is…”

There’s no way this is real.

He pulls his phone out to call you. Again, it doesn’t even ring. His phone beeps with the dropped call notification. He tries again. Nothing.

His limbs are shaking, eyes burning with tears. A mistake. It’s a mistake. He just needs to find another way to contact you.

He opens a social media app to message you there. Before he can type in the search bar, a smiling photo of you is at the top of his feed.

It’s a news article. Local woman dead after late night crash. The post caption reads: This is crazy. She was so young :( Rest in peace.

He taps to read the comments, reading worthless prayers and canned condolences as he keeps scrolling, every roll of his thumb making him sicker.

He finds the article. Saliva coats his tongue and he’s sure he’s about to throw up as he reads it.

The vehicle was traveling southbound… Ran off the roadway… Pronounced deceased on scene.

No. You were just with him last night, a living, breathing, beautiful girl telling him you care about him, your touch warm and soft and real.

Deceased. That cold, final word doesn’t describe you. It can’t.

He barely makes it in time to open his door and vomit on the concrete. When he slams his hands over his steering wheel, he does it until his palms throb in pain. He cries until his throat burns.

No. This can’t be real.

╰┈➤ three weeks later

The town you live in now is in a land-locked state with an even smaller population than Kildare. The agent in charge of your case gave you and your parents everything you needed to assume your new lives.

Your old one ended on a road back home, covered up with a story that you’d lost control of your friend’s car and died on impact.

You’re sitting in the therapist’s office, picking at a loose string on your shirt. The protection program placed you with a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma recovery, but you worry you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the paralyzing pain that has sept into your heart.

You come here once a week. You’re supposed to be moving on, setting roots here, accepting your new identity.

But you haven’t and you can’t. You’re not allowed to contact anyone, but every day, more and more, you yearn to find a way to tell the people you love that you’re okay, to put them out of their grief and misery.

You wouldn’t dare take the risk, but you’re constantly checking on what you left on the island, searching news sites and social media for anything you can find through a faceless account.

Rafe’s arrest record is public. Sale and distribution of an illegal substance. You know now that Brading arrested him for coke that night. You’re sure he did it just to get Rafe in custody to be able to intimidate him into talking about Porter.

You know nothing else about him. He hasn’t posted anything since you left. His name only comes up on the law enforcement website, offering no further information on a trial or a sentencing.

When you look up your friends, seeing the photos and messages they posted in memoriam of you never gets easier. You left JJ and Pope and John B with the shock of seeing you in Rafe’s arms, then you left in JJ’s car, unknowingly racing towards your faked death.

The investigation on Porter has hit a dead end. The last article came out a week ago titled: Family seeks closure as disappearance of Porter Arnoult remains a mystery.

And the man who shot Brading, who made a full recovery, is still at large, meaning you’re still in danger.

“Come on in,” your therapist says gently, peeking out her office door.

You settle in the worn seat. You’ve told this woman everything but for the truth about the night that was the catalyst to the mess your life has become.

You promised Rafe you’d keep the secret to the grave. You meant it.

·········

The heaviest, sharpest ache sits in Rafe’s chest as he stands at your final resting place, as he reads your name in stone, a hyphen between two years that are much too close to each other.

There was no funeral. Word had gotten around that your parents were too distraught and left town shortly after the accident.

His head is pounding with his hangover, his body weak from the booze and coke he’s been pumping into it.

Stay out of trouble. That’s what his lawyer told him. But his court date is in a couple of days and he’s done everything but. This is the first time he’s come to your grave and he feels like a piece of shit for waiting so long, but he couldn’t do it.

He never deserved you. A piece of him knew, gnawed at him, that you’d realize he didn’t measure up. But he was ready to try, for once in his life, to be better.

And then, you were taken from him. And the idea of paying his respect to a girl who’s nothing but a memory now is not for your benefit. It’s for the grieving, and while he’s not worthy of that relief, he came to the cemetery in case he won’t get the chance again for a long time.

He’ll likely be going to prison soon. His lawyer said the best case scenario is a reduced sentence and a heavy fine.

Rafe’s numb to it. It’s why he’s been getting fucked up at parties, telling anyone who asks about you or him to shut up because he knows they don’t care. All he does is get wasted and open his wallet only to buy more shit to dull the pain.

You were a light in the clouds that always consumed him, and because you’d followed him after he’d gotten arrested, you died.

He’ll never forgive himself for the fact that caring for him is what killed you.

╰┈➤ one week later

It’s Rafe’s last night of freedom.

He was sentenced to 14 months. His life is fucked. All because he was an idiot who decided to sell coke.

Brading sat in the courtroom as the arresting officer, looking bitter, likely because his plan to get Rafe to crack about Porter’s case never worked.

His lawyer told him it was a win to get such a short sentence, as if living behind bars can ever be considered some sort of victory. He’s being locked up tomorrow, a nasty blotch on his record, a traumatic experience waiting for him.

He’s at a party on Figure Eight, dipped into a numbing high on a couch. Coke and booze coarse through his veins. He’s subconsciously been hoping that it’d kill him before he has to go to prison.

It’s been a month since you died. The hole in his chest only digs itself deeper, burying him alive. He ignores the people who pretend to care about him, remembering how they’d acted when rumors spread about him doing something to Porter.

He knows this will follow him forever, being suspected for Porter’s disappearance, being connected to you, the innocent girl who got involved with him then tragically passed away.

He doesn’t care what people think. He thought he was lethargic before. That was nothing.

He gets lost in the high, hearing the people and the music around him, catching flashes of phones in the crowd as people celebrate life while he wishes his would just end.

“What were you doing with her?”

Rafe’s vision blurs and refocuses until he can see who’s standing over him in the crowded living room. It’s Pope, his nostrils flared in anger.

JJ and John B stand close behind, disgusted looks on their faces.

“Fuck off,” Rafe slurs.

“What were you doing with her?” JJ shouts louder. A few heads turn at the noise.

Rafe’s jaw tenses in anger. His body is heavy, but he pushes himself off the couch, staring at your friends, knowing they have no fucking clue how badly he’s been suffering without you.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe mutters, “because she knew you assholes would make her feel bad about it.”

“She’s… she’s fucking dead because of you,” JJ says, his voice laced with tears. “She was on the road because of you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Rafe yells. He swore on his life that you’d always be safe with him. He deserves to die.

He has nothing to lose. He shoves JJ down onto the floor, landing a single punch before he’s pulled back and struck in the jaw with a hard fist.

Rafe spits out blood, his neck at the crook of the couch, knowing no amount of physical pain could come close to matching how bad his heart hurts.

·········

When you see Rafe in the background of a Kook’s social media story, your breath hitches. He’s sprawled out on a couch, head tipped back, lips parted and eyes rolling.

You know it’s stupid. You know you’re putting yourself in danger by doing it. You’re not supposed to contact a soul from your past life.

But he looks near death in the video.

You go to Rafe’s account and start to type with trembling fingers. You’re using the burner account you made, a fake name with no photo, but you hope reminding him of something only you two would remember is enough.

It’s me. The girl you always gave a $50 to at the club. I’m okay. I had to go into hiding. I had no choice. Please take care of yourself and don’t tell anyone about me. I miss you.

You don’t see his reply until you wake up the next day. What kind of sick joke is this?

It’s not a joke, you respond. I used to tell you all the time not to call me a Pogue, remember? I know this is confusing. I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t blame him. He thinks it’s a twisted prank. But even though it was a stupid risk to take, you’re glad you tried. You just wish it worked.

A day later, you unsend your messages and delete your account just in case.

╰┈➤ sixteen months later

“It’s completely your choice,” the program agent continues, sitting in the living room of the home you still don’t consider home. “We set you and your family up for permanent placement, but the man you saw was captured with his associates and died in a shoot-out. We’re confident you’re no longer in danger. You can choose to stay here, or go back.”

You look at your parents with wide eyes, in utter disbelief. It’s been over a year. You all have jobs and friends and a foundation now, even though it’s built on lies.

But you’ve been aching to go home since the day you moved here. And you’re going back to the island, with or without your parents.

╰┈➤ three days later

The flight was painfully long. You came alone. Your parents didn’t feel the need to go back in time and come here. They don’t have the ties you do to home.

The fact that they could watch you leave was confirmation that all you shared with them was a last name. You always felt alone around them. You never had their love. Not really. It’s why you clung to your friends.

Kildare’s salty breeze is the same. Even the way the sun hits here feels unique. You keep the window of your rental car down as you drive through familiar streets.

You’d considered contacting your friends before finding them, but what happened with Rafe would likely happen with them. They’d think it was a cruel prank. They wouldn’t believe you.

It’s a sunny afternoon. You knock on JJ’s door. Your heart is in your throat. You’ve been discreetly keeping up with what your friends publicly post. It seems life here never changes much.

You crave the familiarity. The peace.

The door swings open. JJ stares at you like he’s seen a ghost. You expected as much.

“Hi,” your voice is thin, what you rehearsed coming out rushed. “I witnessed a crime and I was put into protection. They had to fake my death and put me somewhere safe. But I’m not in danger anymore. And they let me come back.”

He doesn’t have the words. You don’t blame him. He pulls you in and this is what you’ve been missing so agonizingly – feeling wanted.

He invites the guys over and after a tearful reunion and a long catch-up, you finally ask them about Rafe, terrified you’ll hear the worst, even though you’ve been keeping up with local news.

“He just got outta jail,” JJ says.

“For what?” you ask, worried he took the fall for what you did to Porter.

“Selling coke,” he says. “I think he got like, a year. I’m pretty sure his dad paid to get it scrubbed from the internet.”

“He kind of went crazy after you…” Pope trails off. “Crazier than usual. But since he got out, he’s not bothering us. He’s just quiet. He’s different now.”

You nod, desperate to go see him.

“What happened that night?” JJ asks. “Were you and him… like, a thing?”

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s… He wasn’t who we always thought he was. I was surprised, too. It happened really fast. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” JJ says.

You give him a grateful smile, knowing it won’t take long at all to get used to this again, to being your old self with your old friends. You left, but your heart stayed here.

·········

Rafe’s sister is visibly in shock to see you when you show up at the Camerons’ doorstep later that afternoon. You tell her what happened, sure the gossip will spread before you even step foot off the property, and ask her where Rafe is.

She tells you he went out on the family’s boat. You thank her and head over to the marina.

·········

Rafe spent every day in prison thinking about those messages he got the night before he was put behind bars. The person behind the account knew things only you would.

It might have been a twisted joke or someone’s way of keeping him above water while he wished he could drown.

But nobody would care enough about him to do that. Only you.

He never saw a response after he replied, and fourteen months later, when he got his phone back, the messages and the account were gone.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since you left. Hope is a ridiculous thing. He doesn’t even consider it your death anymore. You left.

The only thing that kept him going through his monotonous, soul-draining time in prison was the nearly invisible shred of hope that it really was you who sent him those messages.

He wishes he could remember the account name. It was a random assortment of letters and numbers. Sometimes, he’s convinced he dreamed it, like his survival instinct kicked in and made him hallucinate the possibility that you didn’t actually die.

He gazes out at the deep blue water, white caps tumbling over the waves as the boat bobs with the tides.

After you, he missed the sea most.

You remember where his boat was parked. Every detail of that night is burned into your mind. Vowing to keep the secret in the beach house, dragging the body over the dock, planning your alibis on his boat.

There haven’t been any developments in the case. Porter’s body is still out there somewhere, your secret lying with him.

Your heart stops when you spot Rafe’s back as he pulls a rope on his parked boat. His hair is buzzed now, his back broader and his arms larger than you remember. You close the distance, almost falling off the dock when you approach his boat because you’re that awestruck.

You’ve dreamt of this moment. You weren’t sure it’d ever come.

He turns, wrapping the rope around the cleat of the boat, squinting under the sun. He breathes a quiet grunt as he tightens the rope, then stands and surveys it.

Something catches the corner of his eye. He looks up. And pure relief washes over his handsome face.

Rafe rushes towards you like you might disappear if he doesn’t reach you fast enough. He jumps off the edge and nearly knocks the wind out of you when he surrounds you in his heavy arms, squeezing you.

Tears prick your eyes, and suddenly, you’re sobbing. From disbelief. From relief. From love.

“I knew it,” he whispers shakily, nuzzled into your neck. “I knew it. I knew it. Fuck.”

Your eyes are shut as he holds you, both of you suspended, bobbing boats creaking around you, gulls crying in the sky.

He finds the strength to pull back, meeting your eyes. Those eyes. They never left his mind. He knew you were out there and he wondered what they were seeing every single day.

You gaze up at him, vision blurred from your tears. Safety. That’s what he feels like to you. Like nothing can hurt you.

“I missed you,” you say in a whisper, but the words can’t possibly represent how painful life has been, how much you’ve been worrying about him.

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek like you might break, like you’re a dream that might slip away. “I can’t believe…”

You nod. You can’t believe much of what’s happening, either.

·········

You’re in Rafe’s arms until the sun goes down, sitting in the hull of his parked boat, not wanting to part for even a second to allow him to drive out into the water. You don’t need to go anywhere. You want to be rooted with him.

You sat here once before, in a past life of a past life, conspiring and coming up with a story to cover up the murder.

“I never forgot what you did when I got arrested,” Rafe says into your ear, your back flush against his chest, the sun an orange sliver on the horizon. “Yelling at that asshole not to hurt me.”

“It was horrible seeing him do that to you,” you murmur, remembering how hard Brading had pushed him against the car to handcuff him. “He eventually gave up, huh? I kept checking the news, but the case went cold?”

“Yeah. He left town,” Rafe tells you. “He had no evidence. We got rid of it all.”

You nod with a long sigh.

“How was it?” you ask.

You don’t have to say it. He knows you’re asking about prison.

“Knowing you were okay kept me through it,” he admits. You turn to meet his pained blue eyes.

“It’s all behind us now,” you say.

He presses his lips against yours, warm and tender and soft, dismissing the cold that’d been sitting in your soul since you were forced to leave.

Epilogue

You’ll always feel the void of the year and a half that you were gone deep in your heart. But as time goes by, it gets smaller and smaller.

You’d planned to stay with one of your friends while you found your footing to get your own place, but Rafe insisted he buy you a condo, saying it’d be the best use of his money.

He hadn’t expected to still have access to his family’s bank account, but his father seemed to see a difference in him after prison.

You see a change in him, too. You mention it to him sometimes, how his temper has completely faded away.

“Still like me, though?” he once asked, half-joking.

“I love you,” you told him. It was the first time you said the word and his heart felt like it was going to burst. He kissed you hard and told you he loved over and over.

Rafe comes over all the time, preparing meals together, making up for lost time.

One night, as he dozes off next to you in your bed, you realize you still don’t regret your crime and if you don’t by now, you never will.

Sometimes you wonder if you should be remorseful for taking a life. But that man was evil and the world is a better place without him. People die, but the past doesn’t, and while you may carry it with you forever, you wouldn’t take it back.

Your eyes slowly trail over Rafe’s face in the dim light, your heart pounding as you think about how you got here, two broken people who found each other on a terrifying night.

It’s all still so crystal clear in your mind. The blood on his face the night it happened. The way he held you when you told him what your real motive was. The tears in his eyes when he reunited with you.

You pull a blanket over him. He’s everything to you now. And like your love, your secret remains between you two, binding you together forever.

(the end)

[jellyfishthingblog]

You can ignore this if you'd like to!

I want gender neutral where reader is an old friend or lover who left Zaun before Silco’s rise. Their return stirs unresolved feelings and bitterness, reigniting both tension and passion

This could be a mix of angst and 18+

"Ah, Reunions."

Author's Note: First request, was very excited while writing this, hope you lot enjoy!! (This is not proof read + English isn't my first language, so apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes!)

Disclaimer: This is an 18+ blog, so if you're a minor please click off! If you feel uncomfortable reading this at any point, you are more than welcome to click off too!

Contains: gn!reader, reader referred to as Y/N, a very long backstory, Y/N accused of murder, angst in the beginning, smut at the end, no specific genetlia stated for Y/N (stated to have a hole), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), groping, Silco referred to as 'Darling', Y/N referred to as 'Sweetheart', sweet talk, hurt/comfort, praise (y/n receiving)

Y/N and Silco. An inseparable duo. Their first meeting when they were ten.

Y/N was known to be one of the happier and more beautiful children, as if the world could never get in their way, or even harm them!

Silco was quite... the opposite. He was more closed off, and was even compared to a rat by the other children, because of his skinny figure, long limbs and fingers. At least he had his angelic eyes going for him.

The sun rose up slowly, the light just barely reaching the streets of the Undercity and it's only playground. That didn't stop children from arriving and thriving with each other. Amongst those children was Y/N. Their eyes full of joy and glee as the other kids immediately came up to them, begging to play. How could they ever refuse?

Hours pass, children still playing as the sun was fully up, shining brightly. Silco was hiding in an alleyway, not close enough to be seen, but not too far for him to see the children playing. Vander came up behind him.

"Hey, why don't you ever join them?" Vander asked Silco, sitting down next to him.

"... I want to, but I don't want to scare them away." Silco responded simply.

"Who?" Vander queried.

"Y/N..." Silco murmured, his eyes fixed on Y/N and full of wonder and admiration.

"Oh, c'mon Silco! Hey, I challenge you to go up to them and give them something, at the very least, if you're not going to speak to them." Vander proposed.

Silco sneered.

"Give them what? They deserve something better than what I could ever find here." Silco stated.

"I heard their favourite flower is a dandelion." Vander casually mentioned.

"Dandelions? That's not a flower, it's a weed. I'm sure someone as smart as Y/N would know that..." Silco huffed.

"Dandelions are easy to find, you can make one of those mini bouquets to show off that you know." Vander added.

Silco hummed.

"Tomorrow... I'll do it tomorrow at school." Silco said.

"Really?" Vander exclaimed. "Are you actually?"

"Yes. I'm not a coward." Silco stated.

The next day, he did indeed do as he said he would. Early in the morning, Silco gathered up as many dandelions as he could before going to school. He carefully tied them together with a string he found into a bow and put it inside a box.

When break time arrived, the children all went out to the school yard and played. Y/N was stood in the middle of playground, speaking with a few others.

Silco held the box in his hand, trying to work up the courage to walk up to them when Vander came up behind him.

"C'mon buddy, you got this. The worst they can do is say no, right?" Vander quietly cheered Silco on.

He took a deep breath and slowly walked up behind Y/N. One of the girls that were speaking with Y/N noticed him.

"Ah! Silco the Rat!" She screamed, running away, the other children following suit.

All the other children heard it too, they all laughed at him as Y/N turned to look behind them, finding Silco.

Avoiding eye contact, Silco held out the mini bouquet of dandelions to Y/N. The other children seemed to laugh harder and louder.

"Look, he brought dandelions!"

"The Rat is in love!"

Y/N wasn't listening to anything, too focused on the cute boy in front of them with the mini bouquet of their favourite flowers.

Y/N took the mini bouquet and smiled.

"Thank you. Dandelions are my favourite." They told him.

Their words were louder than any insult to Silco.

'Did they just say thank you?' Silco thought. "They're not insulting me?'

A small blush crept on to his stunned face, he just nodded and walked away as quickly as he could.

—

"I remember going back home, putting the dandelions in a vase and on my nightstand." Y/N muttered into Silco's chest. "They didn't leave that spot till every single one wilted."

Silco chuckled.

"Is that so?" He humoured, kissing Y/N's temple softly.

Moonlight slipped through the thin curtains. Their legs were tangled together as the sheets lay messily over both of them, clear evidence of them having a passionate love-making session.

In the morning, the sun just started rising when Silco and Y/N arrived at their shift in the mines.

Suddenly, Enforcers came running in, leaving everyone there confused.

"Oi, what's going on?" Vander asked, stopping the Enforcers from coming any closer to the mine.

"We're looking for someone named Y/N. They have been found guilty of a murder that occurred last night." The Commander stated. "Give them to us now."

"Y/N? Murder? No way." Vander argued.

"We have evidence and a trial today, we must take them now." The Officer retorted quickly.

Silco turned to Y/N.

"You were with me last night, how is that possible?" He asked.

"I don't know. I swear I never did such a thing." Y/N responded.

"Y/N." Vander called out, gesturing for them to come over.

Y/N did so and the Enforcers took them away.

—

That night was 15 years ago.

Many things changed. Vander is gone, the Silco that Y/N knew too. Or so they heard.

But that's okay, Y/N is changed too.

Y/N outgrew their sunshine, who could never do no harm, phase within the first year of being in that wretched prison.

Their face was the somewhat the same though. Those beautiful wide eyes that were once filled with joy and curiosity, now sharp and filled with cunning thoughts. That once soft and round face now more structured and refined.

But the good thing is though, tonight Y/N has been released from prison.

They walked slowly through the streets, looking around the city, nostalgia slapping them in the face. It was all familiar, but... different too. They couldn't put a finger on it.

—

Meanwhile, Silco was sitting in his office.

Jinx left to her room not too long ago after a conversation with him. He was sat there pondering, lighting a cigar in hand. He took a deep puff, closing his eyes, letting the smoke escape past his lips.

The Last Drop has been open for only two hours now, but the noise could be heard from upstairs, creating background noise for Silco.

Half an hour passed when the noise from the bar abruptly silenced. Silco sat up slowly, confusion etched on his face. Soon, there were rushed footsteps on the stairs then a knock on the office door.

"Somebody better be dying." Silco huffed, annoyed.

"Somebody is looking for you, said they just got out of prison." Sevika answered behind the door. "Told me to tell you their name is Y/N."

Silco froze.

'Y/N? No...' Silco thought. 'That's not possible... They're still alive?'

Silco stood up from his chair and walked over to the door. He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out to the stairs. His eyes locked on to Y/N standing in the middle of the bar, a whiskey in their hand.

They looked up at him and smirked.

Silco frowned, disbelief in his expression.

"Am I dreaming, or is that you Y/N?" He humoured, returning his face to neutral.

"Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants, darling." They replied, taking a sip of their drink.

Silco scoffed. Y/N took that as a sign to walk up the stairs to take a proper look at him.

When they reached the top stair, they had a full view of Silco. Their eyes lingered on the scar that wasn't there when they last saw him.

"So, what did I miss?" Y/N asked.

Silco rolled his eyes and turned to go back to his office, Y/N didn't take offense and followed him. They shut the door behind them.

Silco put out his cigar in the tray on his desk. He was slightly panicked, not having expected the feelings he buried long ago to have raised up once more. Especially from having just a glimpse of Y/N for the first time in a decade and a half. He was so deep in thought, he didn't noticed Y/N calling out to him.

"-ilco? Silco? Are you alright?" Y/N asked, standing behind him.

"I'm fine." Silco snapped through gritted teeth.

"Then answer my question. What happened to your gorgeous face?" Y/N snapped back.

Silco turned to look at Y/N, his brows furrowed.

"You would have known if you didn't leave me all those years ago." Silco stated in a frustrated manner.

Y/N threw their glass to the side. It hit the wall, shattering at impact and dropping to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for having been framed for a murder I didn't commit!" Y/N yelled. "I'm sorry you didn't have the heart to visit me to tell me what's been happening! Do you think this was easy for me? No one ever visited me! I was disconnected from this city, not having a single clue whether you, or Vander, or even Felicia were alive or not!"

Y/N was stepping closer with each word, making Silco step back, the back of his legs hitting the desk.

"Those two are dead!" He yelled back. The distance between the two just mere centimetres. "There was a war between Zaun and Piltover, the Enforcers killed Felicia! Vander tried to kill me, hence the fucking scar."

He gestured to his face.

"That coward couldn't even finish the job. So he had died too, leaving Felicia's children behind. I don't know where Vi is, but I took Powder in. Her name is Jinx now." He added. "There. You're all caught up. Happy?"

Y/N just stood there, stunned. For a moment, or two. They sighed.

"I'm sorry... I was wrong to yell at you. I see that now, but-" They muttered, pausing. "Oh! Stop being so stoic, Silco! Go on. Shout, scream, say something!"

Silco face softened, his hand coming to cradle Y/N's face. To confirm that Y/N wasn't just a figment of his imagination, and to reassure them too.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you..." He whispered, leaning his face closer and giving Y/N many chances to move away. But they didn't.

Silco pressed his lips against Y/N's, feeling their warmth. Y/N put one hand in Silco's hair, the other on his hip, pulling him impossibly closer. Silco moved his other hand to Y/N's lower back, hands craving to touch Y/N as much as he could, grabbing whatever flesh he could reach. Y/N moaned softly when Silco touched their inner thighs.

"Hm, still as sensitive as I remember?" Silco teased, kissing along Y/N's jawline.

"Or... It's been too long since I felt your touch." Y/N whispered, barely holding back a whine.

Silco chuckled, he turned both of them around, pinning Y/N to his office desk.

"I guess I better make up for what you, oh so desperately missed, shouldn't I?" Silco continued to tease.

"Please..." Y/N whined softly.

"Well, how could I refuse when you ask so nicely for me, sweetheart?" Silco chuckled.

He leaned in, tracing kisses along Y/N's jaw and down to their neck. Paying extra attention to the spot between the collarbone, all while tracing his hands down to slide down their trousers.

While he's busy with that, Y/N has a hard time keeping quiet. Their hands tangling in Silco's hair, messing it up.

"No need to be quiet. Let me hear those pretty noises, sweetheart." Silco whispered in Y/N's ear.

Y/N's thighs tried to shut together unconsciously, but Silco only spread them wider.

"Not on my watch." He adds.

He unbuckles his trousers, freeing his hard on. He brings one hand up to Y/N's mouth.

"Open wide."

Y/N allows Silco to put two of his digits in, in turn they suck and lick.

"That's it, good job sweetheart."

Once he felt that his fingers were lubricated enough, he took them out of Y/N's mouth and down to their now exposed hole. He slowly inserted them, feeling Y/N clench around him desperately. Y/N couldn't help but let out a pathetic whine once Silco's fingers were fully in.

"Hm, that's it. Let me hear how much you missed me." Silco whispered.

Y/N moaned as Silco started to slowly move his fingers. Their hands reached over to Silco's shoulders, gripping him tightly as they made the sweetest sounds for Silco. Once their hole was ready, in Silco's opinion, he pulled his fingers out, earning a desperate whine from Y/N. He aligned his tip, which was leaking pre-cum, to the hole. He looked down to Y/N's face.

"Ready, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Mhm." They replied.

He slowly pushed his tip in, enjoying the feeling, making him groan softly.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who missed this." Y/N teased.

Silco simply smirked. He placed his hands on either side of Y/N, then thrusted deep into their hole. They moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion.

"You gonna keep teasing, or will you be a good doll for me?" He teased back.

"I will be good, I promise. Just don't stop." Y/N moaned.

Silco listened. He gradually increased his speed, making sure to hit the spot that makes them make the sweetest sound each time.

"You sound so angelic, sweetheart." Silco praised.

Y/N managed to only grip Silco's shoulders tighter and whine louder in response. And when Y/N's hole squeezed Silco's dick just right, he whimpered. Y/N smirked.

"Did I hear that correctly, darling?" Y/N teased in between pants. "That was hot."

Silco rolled his eyes, but his ears turning red betrayed his real embarrassment. Just then, Silco hit the right spot at the perfect force making Y/N arch their back. He took that as a sign to keep doing just that, bringing them closer to the edge.

"Fuck... Right there. Don't stop." Y/N mumbled incoherently.

Silco leaned in, whispering sweet nothings into their ear. That was the final straw to tip them over the edge. Their thighs squeezed Silco's waist, their hands gripped harder and leaving marks on his shoulders, head thrown back as their orgasm hit them hard. Silco following suit after, burying his cock deep.

The two took a moment to collect themselves, relishing in the afterglow.

"Such a good doll." Silco whispered between groans as he pulled out.

"Only for you." Y/N whispered back.

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

not anymore.

luke castellan x reader - college au, only one bed, enemies to lovers.

im back!! sorry for being afk, ive had lots of exams!

"oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." you hear luke say as you drag your suitcase into the room.

you rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, already mad as it was. this was supposed to be a fun weekend: your college has organised a trip for students to go to new york, which you had been excited for.

the trip was off to a great start - you and your friend clarisse had explored the city where you had eaten the best bagel in your entire life.

your happiness, however, was short-lived.

"I'M SHARING WITH WHO?!" your voice echoed through the hotel lobby, causing clarisse to nudge you.

"luke. apparently." clarisse says, almost amused.

"that can't be right. how is this even allowed?" you frown.

"well you're adults, so you're probably trusted-" she starts but you cut her off.

"i can not share a room with him clarisse, i fucking despise him." you groan. you had hated luke since kindergaten and he hated you. that was the way it had always been.

"it's only two nights." she tries to comfort you.

"ONLY TWO NIGHTS, THAT'S TWO NIGHTS TOO MANY." you despised him. he was the bane of your existence.

"you think I want to be sharing a room with someone as stupid as you?" a new voice came from behind you, you turned round to see luke stood, glaring at you. next to him was chris, who waved at clarisse.

"i'm way smarter than you. i have every right to complain." you glare back.

"oh, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous." he replies.

"literally shut up, your opinion is irrelevant to me." you say.

"you're so fucking annoying oh my god." luke groans.

"i'm annoying?! you're the one who-"

you continued to bicker, completely forgetting your surroundings. chris and clarisse shared knowing looks with each other, the two of you claimed that you hated each other, sure. but the tension between the two of you was unmatched.

"hey.." clarisse says, dragging your attention from luke "at least there'll be two beds, you can just ignore each other."

this put a smile back on your face.

"thank fuck.." you say and the two of you begin to walk up to your respective rooms.

"what is it-" you were about to come out with some form of insult until you realised what his reaction was for.

there, in front of you, was your hotel room. with only one bed.

"are you taking the piss?" you let out an exasperated sigh.

"i think i'm going to die." luke groans.

"oh shut up, go see if we can change rooms." you remark.

"why can't you?" he responds.

"because i can't be bothered to come up all those stairs again" you respond, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"you're so lazy." he replies.

"are you gonna do it then or what?" you put your hands on your hips.

"fuck yes." luke replies, and leaves the room.

when he is gone, you let yourself fall onto the bed and groan. this could only ever happen to you. having to stay in a room with the boy you've hated since the age of 6 was one thing, but sharing a bed with him? even worse. you wish you had never come on this stupid trip. then you'd be at home, no luke, curled up in bed, watching the new season of bridgerton. was it too late to-

your thoughts were interrupted by the return of luke, who looked as if he was going to kill you for even breathing near him.

"well?!" you stand.

"there's no other rooms. this is the only one, we have to wait till tomorrow." he frowns.

"oh for the love of god." you say, putting your head in your hands.

"yeah. that's how i feel right now. stuck in a room with a freak." luke says.

"i hate you." you glare at him.

"the feeling is mutual." he glares back.

"you're such a dick."

"only because you are the most annoying person on earth."

"fuck this, i'm having a shower." you grab your pjamas and make your way too the bathroom.

"be quick. i want one." luke calls out.

"i want, doesn't get." you stick your tongue out at him.

"what are you.. eight?" he glares.

you flip him off and shut the door, locking it, and get in the shower.

the hot water calmed your anger, as you tried to take as long as possible. maybe you should try and drown yourself? i mean it would get you out of this situation. that was what you needed.

you continued to ponder the logistics with this until you realised your skin had gone a bit wrinkly from being in there for too long. you got out, dried yourself, and put your pjamas on. you regret how little you brought. the heat was stifling, so you had only brought some shorts and a small crop top. in your defence, you thought you'd be sharing with clarisse.

you opened the door, and walked out the bathroom, luke was layed on the bed, on his phone.

"fucking finally, are you done in the bathroom yet, you took-" he blinks, stopping once he sees what you are wearing.

"oh shut up. i'm done." you glare.

luke nods awkwardly - what the fuck was up with him? - his gaze lingering on your figure. he clears his throat.

"uh yeah. um good." he finally responds standing up.

"the fuck is up with you?" you give him a funny look.

"nothing weirdo." he snaps out of it, and makes his way to have a shower over his own.

you frown at his reaction - why was he being so weird. you shake your head, and get into bed, laying on the edge, and go on your phone.

after about fifteen minutes, luke responds and gets into the other side of the bed.

you lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, both not knowing what to say.

"you still awake?" luke asks you, turning over to look at you,

"why wouldn't i be?" you retort.

"it was just a question.. why are you always so hostile?!"

"because you annoy the living daylight out of me."

"you can't even look at me when you say that." he smirks.

he was right, your back was still turned. you roll your eyes but turn so you are facing him.

"yes i can. you annoy the living daylight out of me." you say looking into his eyes.

his eyes.. were they always this pretty? what was up with you? it was luke. LUKE.

"i know i do." he smirks, looking into your eyes.

you feel flustered. the two of you go quiet for a minute until luke breaks the silence.

"why do you even hate me anyway?" he asks.

"because you anger me." you respond.

"but why?"

"do you not remember when you pushed me off my bike when we were 6?"

"oh yeah. that was so funny." he smiles at the memory.

"no it wasn't." you retort.

"it was." he looks at you again.

the two of you go silent again. what was happening to you? was luke moving closer or was it just you? no he definitely was. was he leaning in-

"turn the light off. i'm tired." luke suddenly demands, catching you off guars. you immediately move away from him.

"um no? i'm not tired." you respond back. you weren't crazy.. you swear you had just had a moment with him.

"do i care?" he asks, avoiding eye contact with him

"i'm not doing it." you retort, rolling you eyes.

"fine. i'll do it." he gets up and turn the light off, leaving just the lamp on the corner on.

"oh you are so irritating." you glare, looking up at him.

"whatever, just go to sleep, we have to meet early tomorrow." he responds and gets into bed, turning his back away from you.

you mock him whilst his back is turned, and turn away yourself.

how were you supposed to get to sleep? you swear you were about to.. i don't know.. kiss luke. your mortal enemy.. except not really. you knew for sure he was right back to being the same old luke as before.

you frown and lay there for about ten minutes, trying to fall asleep.

"(y/n).. i'm.. sorry." you hear luke mutter, next to you. luke had NEVER apologised to you before. EVER. but you were still mad.

"go to sleep." you repeat what luke said to you. you were petty, what can you say?"

"i can't." he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"you can't?! you literally said you were tired." you say.

"how in the hell do you expect me to sleep when you're right there and i can't stop thinking about you?" he raises his voice, catching you off guard.

what. the. fuck. what did he mean. what.

you turn over, to see luke already staring at you.

"what.." you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you see luke already looking at you.

"you're the bane of my existence. i hate you. you get under my skin. but fuck.. why do you have to be so beautiful?" he says, looking into your eyes.

"luke.." you mutter.

"i can't hold back any longer, (y/n), i can't keep pretending i don't l-"

you interrupt him by crashing your lips onto him, kissing him hungrily. luke happily returns the kiss, wrapping his arm round your waist.

after about ten seconds, you pull away.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-" you aplogise.

"don't be sorry. i liked it." he replies, making you smile.

well one thing was now certain for sure. you definitely didn't hate each other anymore.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!

i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...

pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes

warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst

It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.

Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 

Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.

It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.

At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.

The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.

Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.

It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.

The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.

“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.

Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.

You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.

It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.

Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.

You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.

At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.

“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.

The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.

You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.

You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.

You just had to pretend for a little while longer.

Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 

The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.

“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.

“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.

“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.

“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.

Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.

The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.

After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”

Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.

“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”

“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”

“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”

Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”

Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”

Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”

It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.

It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.

You could let them in.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Twenty

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Twenty: Investigative Transfer

Summary: Akechi begins to investigate Saiki's "psychic-ness."

            “You’re (Y/N) (L/N), right?” said Akechi, appearing behind (Y/N) in the hall. It was between classes, and (Y/N) jumped. Akechi didn’t give (Y/N) a chance to respond and barreled right into his next question. “You’re in my class. You sat with me at lunch. I just wanted to make sure you knew who I was. I noticed you and Kusuo seemed to be close.”

            (Y/N) coughed, and they opened their mouth to speak, but Akechi continued.

            “I have a few questions about Kusuo. What is he like? Has anything strange ever happened around you while he’s there?” said Akechi.

            “Not really,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Everything is fine with him. Sometimes we’re around weird, but fun, people, so there’s that, but Kusuo doesn’t do anything weird.”

            They don’t think of my abilities as weird. From the floor above where he was listening to the conversation, Saiki smiled slightly.

            “Anything unexplained? Sudden things appearing or disappearing? Things moving how they shouldn’t?” Akechi leaned in. “You’re obviously the closest to him. Are you just friends? Or are you dating?”

            (Y/N)’s face turned completely red. “I—”

            “Judging by your reaction, you’re either dating or at least have a crush on him,” said Akechi. “Do you have a crush on him because he’s a psychic? Is he impressive? Do you have proof of his powers?”

            (Y/N) crossed their arms. “I like Kusuo—” I love Kusuo “—because he’s a good guy. He’s nice and helpful. Anything else doesn’t matter. Who cares about stuff like psychic powers?”

            Oh, wow. I love (Y/N). Those words sent him head-over-heels for them again.

            “So you don’t see him doing anything weird?” said Akechi.

            “Nope. Everything he does is just Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Akechi deflated slightly. “Thank you for your time.”

            Saiki breathed a sigh of relief. He could really rely on (Y/N).

l

            “Line up!” said Matsusaki, the sun beating down on the class. They stood in gardens, reading for their jobs. “We’re digging up potatoes, today.”

            Our school does this every October, thought Saiki. Yare yare. We’re not little kids. Nobody gets excited—

            “Let’s dig up potatoes!” said Hairo.

            “Yeah!” cheered the other students.

            I’m proved wrong.

            “We’re fart after eating sweet potatoes,” laughed Nendou.

            An idiot.

            “You can’t hide from me,” declared Kaidou dramatically. “You can’t escape my Sweet Potato Radar.”

            What a useless radar.

            “A golden treasure lies in wait!” said Mera.

            She’s insatiable.

            “If I can get a few potatoes, I can make potato-based bread,” said (Y/N) thoughtfully. “That’s very good.”

            “Let’s get to work, then,” said Saiki. A good pastry from (Y/N) was all the incentive he needed. He grimaced as soon as he stepped into the fields with (Y/N). His one weakness would be present, unfortunately. “Bugs…”

            “What was that, Kusuo?” said (Y/N).

            “Nothing,” said Saiki, pulling on his gloves. At least he was working with (Y/N). I’ll just pretend to dig.

            “Hi, there, Kusuo, (L/N),” said Akechi, appearing beside them. “Can I join you? We harvested potatoes once. It was October third in second grade when I was on the bus with you and peed my pants. I caused so much trouble then.” He crouched beside (Y/N) and Saiki. “Potato harvesting is fun, isn’t it? It makes me smile.”

            “I hope it doesn’t make you pee.”

            (Y/N) nudged Saiki in the side for that comment.

            “Kusuo, watch your feet,” said Akechi. “You might step on a worm.”

            Sure enough, Saiki looked down and saw a bug. He jerked back immediately. “Crap!”

            “Are you okay?” said Akechi.

            Saiki swallowed. I held it in. That was close. He had almost exploded all the potatoes up from the ground. If I did that in front of this guy, it’s all over.

            “You don’t look well,” said Akechi.

            “Don’t worry, Kusuo,” said (Y/N). They picked up the caterpillar and set it on a bush farther away so it could eat and grow. They smiled back at Saiki. “I’ll protect you from the bugs.”

            “Are you an angel?” blurted out Saiki, and (Y/N) laughed.

            “Hey, pal, pinky, look what I harvested!” called Nendou, holding up a dozen giant potatoes.

            “Great job, Nendou,” said (Y/N).

            “Those are impressive potatoes,” said Akechi, thankfully distracted.

            “Right? His are even better, though,” said Nendou, gesturing to Kaidou. “Show them.”

            “Shut up,” huffed Kaidou. “Here.” He held up a few shriveled potatoes.

            “So tiny.”

            “Impressive, little guy!” laughed Nendou. “The skinniest potatoes!”

            “Shut up! It’s about how they taste! Not how they look,” said Kaidou defensively.

            “Those will definitely taste bad,” said Saiki.

            “Yeah,” agreed (Y/N), chuckling.

            “Did you know that the purple color of these potatoes is due to a pigment called anthocyanin?” said Akechi.

            “What’s that all about?” said Nendou.

            “My character talks a lot, so I need to talk now or you’ll forget,” said Akechi.

            “I don’t think we can forget you,” chirped (Y/N). “You leave an impression.”

            “That’s not a good thing.” I should leave while Akechi is busy. He took (Y/N)’s hand and pulled them away with him a few steps.

            They paused as they looked at Mera, who stared up at them tiredly. She had been harvesting so quickly she was already tiring. Saiki blinked. (Y/N) blinked. Mera blinked. Saiki patted her on the shoulder, and a light burst for a moment. An energized Mera jumped up and walked off for more potatoes, leaving a few for Saiki to pick up without having to face any bugs.

            “Go and prosper,” said Saiki as Mera happily went searching for more food.

            “Bye, Mera!” said (Y/N), waving.

            “Did you already finish, Kusuo? When?” said Akechi, appearing behind them.

            “When you were rambling about potato taste and color,” said Saiki.

            “But your gloves are still clean,” observed Akechi. “Did someone help you? You can’t have someone else do it.”

            “Kusuo and I were working together. He spotted the best plants, and I pulled them up,” said (Y/N), smiling and holding up their own dirty gloves.

            “The whole point of this exercise is to serve the community, so he should pull at least one for it to be fair. Come on, Kusuo, let’s do this,” said Akechi. “Help me clear away these vines.” He tossed a vine to Saiki.

            Instantly, Saiki’s eyes narrowed in on the worm about to crawl onto his hand. He sucked in a breath.

            “Look at this one, it looks like a turd!” said Nendou, showing a strange potato to Kaidou.

            Bam! It exploded.

            “It blew up!” cried Kaidou.

            “Oh, something happened,” said Akechi, looking back. He looked at Saiki with an evil look on his face. “Let’s continue.”

            He figured out I hate bugs…

            He knows Kusuo’s weakness.

            Kusuo hates bugs! though Akechi. Enough to unconsciously use his psychic powers. I’ll find some more.

            Saiki shivered and braced himself as best he could as Akechi approached. “Here, Kusuo,” said Akechi.

            “Oh, Akechi, watch out,” said (Y/N), interceding with a smile. “There are still some bugs on the vine.” They took the bugs in their gloves and deposited them back on the ground. “You don’t want to disturb them from their habitat.”

            “Oh. Right. They are good pollinators,” said Akechi, his plan interrupted once again by (Y/N).

            Saiki stared at (Y/N) like they were a real angel in the flesh. Not only had them somehow been nice to the gross bugs, but they had saved him from Akechi.

            “It’s no problem, just be careful. Leave them on the ground,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Kusuo, will you help me pull on these?”

            Saiki nodded and knelt to help them. He knew no bugs were around if (Y/N) was asking him. So, he pulled out a potato, and (Y/N) grinned.

            “There, Akechi. Now Kusuo has helped on both sides of our team-up,” said (Y/N). They gestured to their basket. “We have to head out, now. Bye.”

            Akechi watched them go. They are definitely dating. But are they covering for Kusuo because of that or do they truly not know about his powers?

            You will never find out, thought Saiki. It was bad enough that Akechi was figuring out they were dating and could blab to everyone, but he did not intend for Akechi to learn that his abilities were real.

l

            “Thank you for dealing with the bugs.” Saiki shivered as he remembered them.

            “It’s no problem,” said (Y/N), smiling and putting down a freshly baked loaf of potato bread. It had taken until the weekend to finish it up, but they had the loaf now. “Everyone has their fears.”

            “You don’t,” remarked Saiki. They faced everything easily.

            “I get scared of haunted houses and ghosts,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s only because Toritsuka is a creep and makes everything creepier,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) laughed. “Fair enough. But I am scared of things.”

            “I don’t believe that.” (Y/N) was one of the strongest and bravest people he knew—maybe the strongest and bravest.

            “I’m scared of losing you,” teased (Y/N).

            The sudden flirting made Saiki’s cheeks warm, and (Y/N) laughed. “I bring a lot of trouble. Your life would be calmer without me.”

            “My life would be boring without you,” corrected (Y/N). “And I like my life with you in it.”

            “Even when you have to deal with people like Akechi or Teruhashi or Kusuke?” said Saiki incredulously.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), shrugging as if it was obvious. “Kokomi is my friend, and she is growing, maturing. She is so used to her identity being her looks that she’s still figuring out who she is beyond that. I think she’s going to find who she is and be happier for it. So she’s no bother.

            “Kusuke is…eccentric, but I know you and I can handle his ridiculous games.” They laughed.

            “And as for Akechi…I think he’s just looking for answers. Whatever happened between you two, he’s clearly been left with questions, and I can’t blame him for wanting to understand,” said (Y/N). “If you had just teleported away when I found you teleporting the hotel, I would be confused and try to get answers.” They shrugged. “So I don’t care about all that. I like having you in my life, Kusuo. You’re my boyfriend now, and you were my friend before. Nothing changes that I care about you.”

            “You’re too nice.”

            “And you’re too pessimistic, so we balance each other out,” laughed (Y/N).

            “…Should I tell Akechi?” said Saiki. “Would that get him to leave us alone?”

            (Y/N) looked at him. “Do you want my honest answer?” Saiki nodded. “Probably not. I think he wants to be your friend like you were in elementary school. And he seems like the type that becomes part of our friend group.” They laughed.

            “I don’t know if he wants to be my friend about elementary school,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) paused. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “I…did something I shouldn’t have,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) sat down across from Saiki and held out their hand. Saiki took their offer and held their hand. “You can tell me if you want.”

            “I healed him after he was bullied. He was nice to me, and I wanted to help. I thought he was unconscious, but he had seen everything. He started calling me a psychic, a healer, the next few days, and the bullies started demanding I prove it.” Saiki paused. “I didn’t. I acted clueless. I thought that would stop everything, but—”

            (Y/N) squeezed his hand encouragingly, gazing at him.

            “I found Akechi beaten up again. I saw them standing over him, and I just snapped.” Saiki swallowed. “I destroyed the entire classroom and barely managed to wipe the memories of the bullies of what I’d done. But Akechi saw. And I had to leave schools. All because I lost control and hurt people.” He looked at (Y/N). “That’s why Akechi can’t find out it was real. Because I was a danger. He’ll tell everyone that I’m a danger. And I didn’t mean to—”

            “Of course you didn’t,” said (Y/N), squeezing his hand. “You were six years old, Kusuo. What six-year-old can control their emotions, let alone psychic powers? It was an accident, and it happened because you wanted to protect your friend. No one can fault you for that.” They smiled. “And you don’t know that Akechi thinks you’re a danger. Maybe he just wants to know if you really did help him. You two were friends. Maybe that’s what he wants back. His friend.”

            “Maybe. I don’t know.”

            “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” said (Y/N). “But if you decide to do anything or just want to talk, I’m here, alright? I’m always here.”

            “Even knowing I’m capable of harm?” said Saiki quickly.

            “Everyone is capable of harm. Everyone is capable of good,” said (Y/N). “What’s important is that you choose to do good.” They smiled, lifted his hand, and kissed the back. “That’s why I like you so much.”

            Saiki smiled slightly. “You always know what to say.”

            “I just say what I think,” said (Y/N).

            “I know.” And it meant the world to Saiki.

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[thedivineden]

needing more izuku stuff !!!!

would love any kind of perv izuku🙏‼️

also love the writing style!

I LOVE IZUKU AND IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT ABOUT HOW GROSS AND PRECISE HE’D BE IF HE WAS A PERVERT ESPECIALLY TO THE NEW MOM NEXT DOOR !!! I GOT SLIGHT CARRIED AWAY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, THANK YOU FOR THIS INSPIRATION AND BEING MY FIRST REQUEST! HOPEFULLY OTHERS WILL COME FORWARD WITH ANOTHER REQUEST! ૮꒰ྀི◜༝◝ ꒱ྀིა

Mentions of: stalking, surveillance, dubcon/noncon, single mom, self-gratification, drugging, manipulation, insecurity, paranoia, intruder staging/descriptive imagery.

♤ Pervert Izuku is perfect by design; very sweet, humble but it’s not overbearing, helpful, handy, and most importantly, good with kids.

 ♤ You quickly became his target, and the day you moved in, Izuku insisted on helping you carry everything in. Naturally, as many mothers, you were apprehensive to accept the newly acquainted young man inside your home and denied his assistance. Izuku quickly responded by mentioning his own single mother, how he only wants to make her proud, and how she would hit him across the head if he didn't help you.

 ♤ Izuku is a wonderful liar; he did not lie about his single mother, nevertheless he has already made her proud in many ways. Izuku utilized the excuse of "helping you move in" to remember and photograph your house layout, taking special note of where your bedroom would be and the most convenient entry points to reach you in the smallest and quickest span of time.

 ♤ Naturally, you offered him money in exchange for his services, but Izuku politely rejected and instead requested that you prepare him a dinner. He could tell you were stressed; he notices the absence of a band on your finger and the bags under your eyes. You would be his easiest target, and invading your life would be his number one priority: 

 You prepare a three-course dinner for him and yourself granting his request. When he is done hauling everything in, he comes to the dining room and much to your surprise, attempts to assist you in setting the table. You lead him immediately to the table he put together for you and tell him to wait, which is when the true game begins. 

 Izuku did exactly as you said, making sure to move his seat closer to yours and graciously thanking you for your hospitality and the meal you made for him. He could see the glint in your eyes and the darkness surrounds you temporarily lifting. “It’s the least I can do after you helped me move everything in.  It’s been really hard so I really appreciate it.” 

 The entire meal is spent in conversation between you two as you tell him about your life, including learning that your high school love cheated on you for years, which finally led to a divorce and your move into his neighborhood. When the moment is right, Izuku puts his hand on yours, and you give him a beautiful grin in return, but you move your hand away.

 Izuku's tactics are like that of a predator expertly pursuing his prey; he is aware of your vulnerability and can practically hear you berating yourself for falling for the first man who shows you kindness and telling yourself that you should be concentrating on your children and your collapsing life.

 Over the course of the dinner, you two exchange stories and laughs. Izuku apologizes for the affair and divorce, saying your former spouse is a moron who would never screw a woman like you. He noticed the glimmer in your eye growing, but he wasn't prepared for you to hurry him out the door with leftovers and a heartfelt thank you. It left the young man both perplexed and interested. Making you his and his alone was the only thing on his mind.

 Over the next year, Izuku slowly becomes a household name, a part-time nanny, and a full-time pervert. It was all apart of his five step plan:

1. Slow and steady wins the race. Your love languages consist of acts of service and words of affirmations. Make a point to always bring flowers, to help out whenever he had the chance, and passionately express how great of a mother and person you are.

2. Whenever he had a chance to be in your house he’d place or fix any cameras and mechanism he had. 

3. After a year, if you voice the three phrases: “I don’t know what I do without you”, “"I value you and our relationship so much", “"I'm so thankful for you" that’s when he’ll begin to prepare the trap and catch his prey.

  The first line was spoken during a storm that left you without electricity, but fortunately Izuku had a generator. You had a lovely day with your baby at his house. You three cooked dinner, baked s'mores, and ended with watching finding Nemo with your head on his shoulder you whispered, "I don't know what I'd do without you.”

  The second line describes an evening you spent returning home from work. You asked him if he wanted dinner after you returned home, clearly agitated, and thanked him for watching your daughter. Izuku moved quickly toward you, stroking your arms and inquiring as to how you were doing. When you told him about your day, you began to break down. You explained how your manager and clients yelled at you, and your supervisor had gone over the articles you had sent in and given you a 24-hour window to create another one. Izuku gave you reassurance right away and even offered to assist with brainstorming and drafting another piece.

 The third line came the same night, in the midst of Izuku consoling you, you took it as an opportunity to lean in and kiss him. You were stuttering, hastily apologizing and ushering him out the door. You expressed his importance in your life as a friend and would never want to make him uncomfortable. You shut the door before allowing him to say a word. Izuku went home and didn’t come see you until 3 days later. This is when the nexts steps continue:

4. Izuku will allow the connection to become awkward, flirty, and stressful. He will sexually frustrate you and infiltrate your home. The eventual effect of this phase will be sexual frustration, confusion, and exhaustion. Izuku's purpose is to make you hungry for him and afraid in your home so you invite him over more often.

 Izuku took his time in this phase, offering to watch your toddler while you worked. When you arrived home, dinner would be ready, and after you finished eating, Izuku would draw a bath with a glass of wine waiting for you and before the evening concluded you would always receive a massage from the talented man. Izuku's hands would droop and became eager with each massage. Your robe would drop lower, revealing more of your body, and he noticed it. This action indicated to him that you were mentally ready for him to take you somewhere. 

 When he came up to you in the kitchen, his footsteps were typically silent, but you could always feel his presence behind you. Izuku would be positioned behind you, gazing over your shoulder and begging you to feed him. You'd then turn around with a spoon, realizing how close he is and how he has you encircled and blocked on each side by his hands on the counter. The look in his eyes indicates hunger, but you both know it is not for whatever is in the pot.

 Izuku persisted in his antics, being a charming, flirty, and ideal man! Then at night he’d break into your house in one of three ways: through your bedroom window, your toddlers bedroom window, or directly through the front door. Why? The most horrifying ways for someone to enter your house are through the front door without leaving any trace behind, through the window in your own bedroom, or through the window in your child's bedroom.

 In an effort to instill fear in you, Izuku would, for the following thirty days, take objects you knew you had put away or steal a sock or piece of your underwear, forcing you to search for the missing items every wash day. He even went so far as to break in while you were at work and replace your usual nightly prescription with sleeping pills so he could record himself enjoying your nude body in front of him. He would cover your lips with a damp paper towel and brush his angry head over it so as not to shock you or cause any physical reactions.

   Whenever he leave his through your windows he he leaves a flower at the base, and set off a trigger mechanism rendering noises that sound like a break-in once he’s at home to wake you to his gift. As a result of all he did, you were always left crying and at his door in the middle of the night with your sleepy toddler on your hip, pleading with him to let you and her stay.

 Throughout these nights you two would either stay up talking about what happened or you’d end up in his arms sleep. His plan has one more final phase before he can officially steal your heart, mind, body, and soul:

 

5. Izuku needed to create a situation where he’s saving you or you and your child.

 Over the course of the following two weeks, Izuku took steps to ensure that you would be left helpless and vulnerable. A staging firm from another country was called upon to break into the house, give you and your child enough time to hide, give Izuku enough time to enter, and have extra staff on standby as police officers. The break-in happened a week later, and although you were already having trouble sleeping due to your ongoing anxiety and terror, it's real now, and you're terrified.

 You jump out of bed, make your way to your daughter’s room, and you both hide in a small nook in the back of your daughter’s closet. Your heart is pumping in your ears and the fear on your daughter’s face is heartbreaking and nauseating. You silently prayed with your eyes closed, you could hear the people rummaging through the house, and talking just loud enough for anyone in the house to hear. Then, a knock invokes silence through the house, you thought the intruders speaking was bad, this is ten times worse. Then the doorbell rings out breaking the silence and then your name could be heard. 

 The tension in your chest is temporarily lifted when you hear Izuku's voice at your door asking for you. Perhaps you two will be fine, but the sound of quiet shuffling can be heard once the key lock turns. You longed to leave the closet and warn him about what awaits him, but your child's safety comes first, and you know he would agree. When the front door opens, you hear scuffling and curses flying; you protect your daughter's ears when you hear: "Get him to the floor, fuck him up, kill him." You couldn't control your breathing, and it felt like all the blood rushed to your ears.

 The next thing you hear is what you believe to be a gunshot, and your body stiffens until you hear Izuku shouting to you and sirens outside. You clutch your babygirl tightly in your arms and rush out to him, yelling his name. Coming around the corner, you collide with him and collapse into his arms. You glance up at him and see the injuries he inflicted on the attackers, which makes you cry even harder. He assures you that everything is fine and expresses care for you and your daughter's well-being.

 After the "police" arrive, Izuku is by your side as you describe what you heard, did, and what has been going on for the past few weeks, but this is not new information. Izuku particularly called this firm since they are recognized for providing discretion for a lump sum of money and the ability to construct any fictitious scenario by any means necessary for as long as the client pays. He doesn't mind the glances he gets from various "officers"; he knows what they're thinking; he's sick, and he knows it.

Izuku insist that you and your daughter stay at his house until everything was handled and the investigation was completed. The officials authorized you and him to get essentials for you and your daughter. Everything is numbing; you feel powerless, useless, and incapable of leading a regular life. Then comes the breakdown: you're in the toilet of the shared room with your sleeping daughter, and the last thing you expect is a knock and Izuku entering with you.

 You try to wipe your tears away quickly, but he sits down on the floor with you and draws you close. When he starts caressing your back, you clutch to him and cry even harder; you two have been stuck like that for two hours, your eyes are tired and red, but when you look up at him, all he can think about is wanting to see the same expression in the bedroom. The feel of his hard-on should have been a red flag for you; you shouldn't have leaned in, but you did, and this is what he's been looking for.

 Izuku takes full advantage of this time, savoring the first kiss between you two; he's slow at first, which is great. He grips your waist and pulls you onto his lap, careful not to break the kiss, biting your lip to secure your closeness, which is rewarded with a tiny groan from you. He moves quickly with you in his arms, being sure not to wake your sleeping daughter, and brings you upstairs to his bedroom.

 Izuku is weary of being hungry for you, of using his hand while looking at pictures of you from the cameras in your bathroom and shower; now is the time for the real thing, and he will not disappoint. He tosses you on the bed, closes and locks the door, and then leaves you in his bathroom. You were perplexed, but the heartbeat underneath stopped all warning sirens in your thoughts. Izuku emerges from the restroom with a crimson fluffy garment and begs you to put it on for him. You'd never had a man beg you to do anything, but when it came to him, he gave the word a special meaning. How could you say no?

 The smile he gives you ignites your body, and you swiftly remove your clothes and attempt to dress in the bathroom. He's quick to stop you, noticing the perplexity on your face as he timidly asks you to undress for him. You were completely flustered; it had been a long time since you had done anything intimate, and you had never stripped for anyone before. Izuku's face is crimson, which calms you down; knowing that you and him are possibly going through something together and sharing the same emotions inspires you to remove your shirt, followed by your pajama bottoms. His gaze is fixed on your body as you tease him by pulling down your bra and underpants.

 He enjoys seeing you like this; he wants to see more, touch you, and that is exactly what he does. Izuku holds you close and kisses your stomach and thighs, getting particularly close to your pussy. He brings you to the bed and softly glides his hands under both of your thighs to the back of your knees to raise your legs up. Your eyes are fixed on the ceiling, and your mind is reeling from the excitement and adrenaline of the night's events.

 He asks if you are okay, and you only hum in return, he gets in your face and asks the same thing again. You reassure him, and he asks that you keep your eyes on him. "Say it, say you'll keep your eyes on me."He swears he sees a sparkle in your large eyes, and you respond, "I will keep my eyes on you."

Then he's in between your legs like a thirsty puppy; he begins with a soft kiss, testing your waters to see what makes you squirm, moan, and quiver, and once he does, you're putty in his mouth. Izuku takes his time with you, yet he leaves no aspect of you unnoticed or ignored. His tongue seems to write incantations on your clit and slit, causing you to buck and tangle your fingers in his hair. Izuku enjoys this moment, sighs into your cunt, and continues to lick and torment your clit. He looks up at you and falls in love. Your hair is sticking to you now, pleasure is written all over your face, and he understands what you want.

He lets you to rest your legs on his shoulders, relieving the pressure, and puts a finger into your dripping hole. Your moans are beautiful, and the way you speak his name makes Izuku happy right now, but he can't leave unless you're foolish on his cock. He takes a long lick before raising his head and saying, "How does it feel, pretty?" You've always loved his pet names, which he'd occasionally say to you, but this is overwhelming. Your response is breathy and hardly coherent: "I'm- It- it feels good, please don't stop." He can feel you tighten around his fingers, which are stroking your ravenous hole, laughs, and continues to devour you.

Izuku's speed increased the knot in your gut, and you felt heated and overstimulated.His tongue and fingers are a gift from heaven. He took his time to discover your sweet spot and what feels most comfortable for you, and once he does, you're a mess. Izuku suddenly stops in front of you and plants kisses on your lips, neck, and breast. Your eyes were no longer on him; instead, they were tightly closed as you braced yourself for the surge of pleasure that was about to hit. At this moment, your body is overheating and your cunt is aching and asking to be penetrated. "Izuku~ why did you stop?"

"How much is it really yours?" His head raises, revealing tears that look ready to burst. "Use your words, sweetheart; don't cry." You lustfully and clearly tell him how much you want to be fucked until you're sore. "Anything you wish pretty," he says, laughing at your audacity. Izuku takes off his clothes fast, and he quickly gets to work on you, nuzzling your clit with his fingers and your nipples with his lips and tongue. All he wants to hear is that you plead and beg for him to fuck you, to make you his, to put another baby in you.

Izuku exclaims, "I want you to have my babies," while spreading your legs apart and nudging your clit with his irate head. "I want to make you my wife," he said, and proceeded to insert his sensitive cock into you. Izuku groans at the feeling and tells you how wonderful it is, saying, "You're so fucking warm and tight. You handle it so nicely and are so lovely and gorgeous.” His strokes got quicker and deeper with each compliment, and your cunt got tighter and your head lighter. Your groans are hypnotizing him as you encircle him with your arms and legs, pushing him to remain close. Your nails are also digging into his back. You whisper to him in a gentle way how much you've wanted him since you moved here and how you stroked yourself to the thought of him.

Izuku goes into overdrive when you tell him something he already knew, pounding your cunt repeatedly and making a valiant effort to control himself. He couldn't deny that he is just as overstimulated as you are. Ever since you moved in, Izuku has taken delight in the surveillance cameras he installed in your home, even today. As you match his beat, you draw him out of his thoughts and convert him into mush. Izuku starts to cry as he gets into you. Even when he moans in your ear after cumming in you, you simply turn him over, re-insert his dick, and ride him.

Just in case this is the last night, you want to make the most of it. Izuku's voice is cracking and his face is a beet red. He bucks into you, eager to get to his next release, saying, "I- I didn't know you-ahh~." You keep up with him and pound into him. Izuku will never be able to let anybody else have you since you were such a vision of beauty, and the way your tits bounced in his face showed how much you seized control.

"Zuku~ please, cum in me," you say, Izuku doesn’t stop even though he can feel your legs trembling. He abuses your spot forcing  you to put your hands on his chest to make yourself arch more. Your eyes are now behind your head and your loud, broken moans are coming from every hit to your sweet spot. You eventually release on his cock, which propels you forward in his arms while you cry with sheer pleasure.

You are sound asleep and Izuku kisses your head and covers you with the blanket, making sure to be quiet as he exits the room. Izuku enters his workspace, signs in to his monitor, and activates his room's camera. He collects the footage from this night, takes out the sections that don't feature you and him, stores it on a flash drive, and conceals it in his attic for later. He finally got what he wanted and like he said before, he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

[oofthwoods]

VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley , @stinkyjax , @namgification , @judespoision , @cha-hot , @disneyprincemuke , @itsjustkhaos , @trouble-sistar , @ihateyougunthersteiner , @treehouse-mouse , @cherry-piee , @fangirl125reader , @cassie0sstuff, @be-your-coffee-pot , @elijahslover , @flannelforthetoads , @m0cha-bunny , @ironmaiden1313 , @glitterquadricorn , @spideybv28 , @celesteblack08 , @thatgirlthatreadswattpad , @itscrzy, @canihavemyhoodieback , @eugene-emt-roe

[steddieas-shegoes]

see where the night goes

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'only one bed' rated m wc: 867 cw: some borderline somnophilia-esque behavior? tags: forced proximity, unintentional cuddling, idiots to lovers, love confessions, implied sexual content

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

The full sized bed was covered in the ugliest plaid sheets Steve had ever seen, which was saying something since his own bed had been covered in ugly plaid sheets.

It looked like it would fall apart if Steve sat on it, let alone lay down on it.

"Bad news first or good news first?" Eddie asked as he walked into the room.

"There's more bad news? The broken down van and the storm knocking out the power everywhere but this inn isn't bad enough?" Steve responded, putting his hands on his hips as he watched Eddie sit on the bed.

Huh. Looked like it would manage to hold at least some weight, then.

"There's no other bed."

Steve shook his head.

"That's a joke."

"Nope," Eddie popped his lips together. "I did check the bathroom though and there's a decent shower with actual hot water, so. A win's a win?"

Steve groaned.

"Dude, this bed is not big enough for both of us," Steve gestured to the bed Eddie was sitting on. "It doesn't even look big enough for you."

"Sure it is. I slept in a twin until I was nearly 18. This will be like a California King!"

Steve knew he was trying to make light of the situation.

The van breaking down four hours from home on a night when the worst storm Indiana has seen in years decided to come through was only the beginning.

Eddie had lost his wallet somewhere between the van and his walk to a payphone, which meant he had to walk all the way back to the van without having called anyone. He was soaked and cold despite the air around them being relatively warm. By the time he got back to the van, someone had stopped to check on Steve, who had been panicking about Eddie getting lost. When they finally got towed to a repair shop, the mechanic told them he wouldn't be able to look at it until the morning and that from the sounds of it, they'd need to replace a handful of parts that were more money than either of them had with them.

A weekend trip to visit Robin at college had turned into an expensive nightmare.

And now, they would be sharing a very tiny bed.

Eddie and Steve had been closer lately, especially since Robin's classwork had made it impossible for her to visit much. But sharing a full sized bed?

"Well, guess I'll go shower. Maybe it'll help me feel less like everything is falling apart," Steve sighed.

"Okay, Eeyore."

Steve rolled his eyes, but ignored him.

They got ready for bed like they were dreading it, and maybe they were.

They both got into the bed, laying on their sides facing away from each other, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from the other.

The rain pelted the roof, and lightning flashed in the distance, but it seemed like the storm was almost past.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Sorry about tonight."

"Nothing you could do, Eds."

He felt Eddie shift, but they still weren't touching.

"I guess. Still sorry though."

"Yeah, me too."

Sleep fell over them, the exhaustion of the day hitting them hard as soon as their bodies were horizontal.

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

Steve was sweating, which wasn't completely unusual, but definitely rare when he hadn't woken up screaming from a nightmare.

He had something, no, someone, in his arms.

Eddie.

He was curled around Eddie entirely, his arms around him, his hard dick pressing into his ass.

Eddie was still asleep, breathing softly, chest rising and falling slowly.

Steve needed to wake him up, or at least get up so he could put some space between them until his dick calmed down.

But just as he went to pull his arm away, Eddie turned around in his arms and smiled in his sleep.

And then his eyes fluttered open.

His smile faded.

"Sorry, let me-" As Eddie started to pull away, Steve tightened his arms.

"A minute."

Steve sometimes said he needed a minute like this when the kids were all yelling about things he didn't quite understand or when Robin had been rambling on for too long.

Sometimes, when he and Eddie were just hanging out, he would say it like he just had too much going on in his brain.

Like now.

Steve was looking at Eddie, really looking.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I might love you."

Eddie blinked back at him, mouth agape.

"You think you might?" His voice was quiet, hesitant.

"Yeah."

"And this is...because of us sleeping in bed together or...?"

"No. It's because when we have a shitty day that could turn into another shitty day tomorrow, I'm still just happy to be with you for it. I didn't...I guess it didn't really hit until now," Steve admitted.

Eddie gulped.

"And you think that's...love?"

"I think that's part of it. I also think I'd like to kiss you."

Eddie let out a small breath, shaky as Steve pulled him flush against his front.

"You would?"

"If that's okay."

"Is that all?" Eddie smirked, obviously implying that he could feel Steve's dick against his thigh.

"We'll see where else the night goes."