#wouldn't even be surprised if it was more than twice but this is what immediately came to mind lol

[f1-stuff]

If I had a nickel for every time Carlos tried to get Charles to strip on camera... Well, I'd have two nickels, but it's weird that it happened twice. (x) (x)

[amazinglyashy]

Too heavy for me? Never

LADS men reaction to you only somewhat joking about being too heavy for them

Sylus -

He'll raise an eyebrow at you, staring down at you as you realize the joke fell flat. You try to back peddle, not wanting to cause any confrontation that never helps you feel better about your body anyway, but he simply holds up a hand to stop you with a shake of his head.

"I don't want to hear it, sweetie. I already know the nonsense you're going to say. How about you just come with me right now to the gym instead?"

You don't know how to tell him that saying that truly shattered your heart into a million pieces, so you just follow him in silence instead. You didn't think he would insult you so casually, and you were now trying to brace yourself for the inadequate feelings and self-loathing you were about to experience by having to train at the gym with him.

But... he didn't ask you to do a workout. He didn't tell you to get on a piece of equipment or to lie down on a mat for a physical exercise.

He told you to sit on a small bench against the wall while he went to the free weights close by.

Wordlessly, he loads weights- two- no, three times your weight onto the bar, before moving to lift it. Once. Twice. Again, and again and again-

His eyes flicker over to you at some point, and instead of making any remark or reference to the emotions clear across your face, he flashes you a slight smirk, just like he always does.

"Have I made myself clear, sweetie?"

Zayne -

Zayne will definitely think you're just pretending to be stupid at first.

He will look down at you with his brows furrowed and a small smile creeping on his lips, thinking it's all a joke.

"I lift myself during my workouts fairly easily, and I am capable of lifting a lot more. Quite funny, though I wouldn't make this form of humor a habit. It isn't particularly good for your mental health."

Then he realizes you're actually being serious in what you're saying.

He's upset, to put it lightly, but hes trying not to let it show. Favoring a small frown across his usually firm expression as he studies your face. Your heart will jolt just a little bit when you process just how sad his eyes look though... obviously he's hurt that you would even think something like that about yourself, much less come to believe it as true.

"Allowing a part of your brain to lie to you is not healthy if you don't push back with the truth. And the truth here, is that you are nowhere near too heavy for me to lift or carrying, even for prolonged periods of time. To demonstrate-"

And like it's nothing, he's picking you up and carrying you. His destination is not important, and the protests spewing from your lips fall on deaf ears as you try to gentle squirm out of his grasp. He'll continue to explain why your viewpoint is flawed, methodically and with logic, and in a way that you find yourself unable to argue back.

He doesn't want you to.

He knows you're wrong, and he will stop at nothing to prove it.

Xavier -

He's more surprised at the statement than anything. At first, he thinks you're making a jab at his strength, and wonders if he slipped up in front of one too many Wanderers and now needs to prove himself just to get you to stop teasing him for being 'weak'.

Once he (quickly) realizes that you're talking about yourself, jabbing at your own body and state, rather than at him, it's like a spark igniting in him.

"What? What would ever make you think that? No- that's not right. That's not right at all."

He's immediately going to try and grab you to lift you up, he doesn't care where you both are or what you're doing. Even if you've just woken up in bed and are still relaxing, he's trying to pick you up right then and there.

He stumbles trying to lift you, falling backward onto the pile of blankets and plushies that has taken over his bed. He feels awful, worried that you'll take his misstep as him falling over from your weight, immediately apologizing and trying to sit up and pick you up again before falling forward from the plush surface he's trying to rise on giving out too much beneath him.

You're both a giggling mess by then, and it's obvious to you that he's going to keep trying to prove it to you, just... a bit clumsily so. Several more attempts will be made as the evening goes on, and pretty soon he's showing you just how easily it is for him to lift you up- especially if he keeps doing it over and over and over again.

And he will continue to do it over and over and over again, even after today. As many times as it takes.

Rafayel -

You definitely made a mistake saying anything self-depreciating around him. Especially with how much he likes to prove you wrong in playful situations, this is something similar, but a lot more serious to him.

He'll make fun of you for anything, as long as you know he's just being lighthearted even if he's grumpy or upset when he fires a quip off at you.

But the second you agree with him, or say something bad about yourself- whether jokingly or dead serious- the gloves are off. He won't accept that from you, and he's already on it to figure out how to turn the opinion you've formed of yourself on it's head and into a more positive outlook.

Lifts you up bridal carry while spinning- quite literally sweeping you off your feet while he whisks you away. You would think you were a princess with how he spins around his studio with you in his arms, with no regard to the paintings or projects around him as he dances with you in his arms. And no matter how hard you protest, he doesn't stop until he feels for himself that he's done enough, giggling the entire time.

"Are you really going to doubt a sea god's strength? Geez, I didn't realize you were such a rude human."

He'll hold you up enough to press his forehead against yours, nuzzling against you with a smile, the slightest sadness playing across his expression.

"Man, I must be pretty lousy that you would ever think something like that about yourself. That must mean I don't think to pick you up enough like you deserve. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you by whisking you away every chance I see you from now on."

[hoshifighting]

Workaholic!Joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua consistently skips happy hours or works overtime. You've tried to warn your friend countless times, but he didn't listen to you. As a result, it's no surprise that Joshua experienced a burnout on the office floor. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, office setting, fingering (f. receiving), clit stimulation, handjob, penetrative sex, a little bit of car sex, protected sex, dirty talk, flirty Joshua.

[Please be aware that the following text includes mentions of burn-out, collapse, fainting out, which may be a sensitive topic for some]

[Issue Club Serie]

You remember when you heard your manager talking about a job vacancy in the recruitment and selection sector. The name immediately stood out to you—Joshua. You studied with him in college, and you knew he would be perfect for the role.

The manager loved him. Joshua was charismatic, empathetic, and dedicated—everything the recruitment team needed. Every morning, he would thank you profusely, and at least twice a week, he would insist on buying you an overpriced coffee. It took some time for you to convince him that he didn't need to do this.

But there was something else you couldn't help but notice. The sheer number of job interviews Joshua had to lead, the late nights you'd see him at his desk with tired eyes, and how he always seemed a little lonely, even though the team welcomed him with open arms.

Joshua would rarely show up to the department's happy hours on Fridays or the company parties, and even then, he would only talk about work. There was no relief, no relaxation. You found yourself listening to him until the end of the night, as the rest of the team started to ask if he would even bother coming anymore, knowing he probably wouldn't.

You couldn't help but feel for Joshua. He was clearly passionate about his work, but at what cost? You watched as he isolated himself, unable to find that work-life balance that so many of us strive for. It made you wonder, what was driving him to push himself so hard, and at what point would the stress and loneliness become too much to bear?

As his friend, you couldn't help but worry about his well-being. You'd seen him cancel plans, skip social events, and even miss out on family gatherings, all in the name of his career. It was admirable, sure, but also concerning. 

You could consider reaching out, inviting him for a coffee or a quick chat. Maybe he just needed someone to listen and remind him that there was more to life than just work. 

But then again, who were you to judge? 

Everyone has their own path, their own motivations. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that Joshua was heading for a burnout. You wondered if there was a way to help him find a better balance without undermining his ambitions. It was a tricky situation, and you weren't sure how to approach it.

As you glance at the clock, the hands indicate it's already 3:35 pm. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you've been so absorbed in your work that you've skipped lunch. Deciding it's time for a much-needed break, you gather your phone and wallet, heading towards the exit of the department.

But just as you're about to leave, you spot Joshua, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in a blur of movement. You can't help but let out a small sigh, knowing he's likely putting in extra hours again. Turning around, you make your way over to his desk, standing beside him.

"Joshua, it's past 3:30. Don't you think it's time for a break?" you say, your voice laced with concern.

Joshua looks up, blinking a few times as he registers your presence. "Oh, hey Y/N. I'm just trying to get this report finished before the end of the day," he explains, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You can't help but smile at his dedication. "Come on, you've been working non-stop. Let's go grab a bite to eat across the street. My treat," you offer, hoping to coax him away from his desk.

Joshua hesitates for a moment, glancing back at his computer screen. "I don't know, Y/N. I really need to get this done..."

"It can wait, Joshua. You need to take a break and recharge," you insist, your tone gentle but firm.

With a sigh, Joshua nods and starts to gather his things. "Alright, you win. Let's go," he says, shrugging on his blazer.

You can't help but feel a sense of triumph as the two of you head towards the elevator. "So, how are the apprentice interviews going?" you ask. "They're going well, actually. The candidates are all so eager and eager to learn," Joshua replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. "That's the best phase, but I hope they don't overwork themselves in the future, right Josh?" you say, casting him a knowing glance.

Joshua ducks his head, chuckling quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he says, the hint of a smile still playing on his face.

As you step out into the bustling street, you feel the sun's warmth on your face, a pleasant contrast to the cold, sterile office. You turn to Joshua, a playful grin spreading across your face.

"Alright, Josh, here's the deal. If you talk about work during this break, you'll owe me an ice cream," you declare, wagging a finger at him.

Joshua laughs, a genuine sound that lightens the mood. "Deal. Though, to be honest, I'd buy you an ice cream anyway," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't you forget it. And remember, I'm serious," you say, trying to keep a straight face as you give him a mock-stern look.

Joshua raises his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear."

As you both find a cozy little café, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee envelops you. You choose a table by the window, and as you settle in with your meals, the casual chatter of other patrons creates a comforting background hum.

"Did you hear about the latest drama?" you begin, leaning in conspiratorially. "The director's wife found out he was cheating on her because her strawberry jam kept disappearing from the fridge—and the director doesn't even like strawberry jam!"

Joshua's mouth drops open, his eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. Seriously?" he exclaims, staring at you.

You nod, your face a picture of exaggerated exasperation. "Yup. She noticed it was going down way too fast and started putting two and two together."

Joshua shakes his head, still processing the story. "That's wild. You know, during the last interview I led, they actually put some strawberry jam on the table so the candidates would—" He stops abruptly as your glare pierces him. He laughs, holding up his hands again. "Sorry, sorry! No work talk, I remember."

You can't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "Thank you. So, back to the story. After she figured it out, she didn’t just confront him. Oh no, she went all out. She invited him to a romantic dinner, complete with candles and, of course, strawberry jam."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened?"

You lean in closer, lowering your voice. "She waited until he took a bite of the dessert she made—some fancy strawberry tart. And then she calmly asked him if he enjoyed it as much as his 'office snacks.'"

Joshua bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "No way! That’s brilliant. What did he do?"

You grin, enjoying his reaction. "He turned beet red and started stammering. She didn’t even wait for an explanation. She just got up, left the table, and moved out the next day. Took the jam with her too, just for good measure."

Joshua laughs so hard tears form in his eyes. "I can't believe it. That's some next-level pettiness. Good for her."

You noticed Joshua seemed more relaxed after your lunch together. He even managed a smile when you passed by his desk later that day. However, during the week, your attempts to repeat the lunch outing were met with resistance. Each time you invited him, he had a different excuse.

"Hey, Josh, want to grab some lunch today?" you asked on Tuesday, hoping to replicate the success of your last outing.

"Sorry, Y/N. I need to lead the apprentice interview," he replied, not looking up from his computer.

On Wednesday, you tried again. "How about lunch today? There is a pasta sale going on at the mall."

Joshua sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I need to filter the job applications. We're getting so many, and I need to find the best ones."

By Thursday, your frustration was evident, but you kept it in check. "Lunch today, Josh? You deserve a break."

"I'd love to, but I need to solve the issue with the employees' late salaries," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's causing a lot of stress for everyone."

Joshua was developing into someone who rarely took a break from his work. Today was Friday, and as you were leaving with your coworkers, all you wanted was to taste a cold beer and find some refuge from the rough week. The whole department was eager to hang out together, and the air was filled with energy.

You were refreshing your makeup at your desk as your coworkers trickled out, laughing and chatting. Glancing over, you saw Joshua standing by the printer, watching the curriculums pile up.

"Josh, you coming out with us tonight?" you called over, hoping to finally get him to relax.

He looked up, "I don't know, Y/N. I have these curriculums to go through, and then there's the report I need to finish."

Tired of trying, you sigh in defeat, the weight of your concern for Joshua pressing heavily on your shoulders. He notices, his eyes meeting yours briefly, but you turn away and walk out. You knew you didn't have the responsibility of checking on him every single time—it was his choice to work himself into exhaustion. But how could you not worry? He was a great friend, and the thought of him breaking down alone between the dividers of his desk was unbearable.

As you sip your beer, trying to enjoy the happy hour, the image of Joshua's lost eyes lingers in your mind. The laughter and chatter around you fade into the background as your thoughts drift back to him. After a few hours, the night winds down, and you remember you forgot your keys at the office. Debora, your coworker, offers you a ride back so you can retrieve them before heading home.

The office is dark and silent as you and Debora step inside, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. Only one light is turned on, casting a dim glow over a single desk. You immediately recognize it—Joshua's desk. But he isn't sitting there.

A sense of dread fills you as you approach, the cubicle dividers blocking your view. As you round the corner, you see him—Joshua, sprawled on the floor.

You gasp, rushing to his side. "Joshua!" you scream out, your voice trembling with panic. You carefully lift his head and place it on your lap, your hands shaking as you check for signs of consciousness. He's unresponsive, his face pale and drawn.

"Debora, call an ambulance!" you shout, your voice tight.

Debora fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials. She quickly explains the situation to the operator and then rushes to find building security for additional help.

You gently shake Joshua, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Josh, wake up," you whisper urgently, but he remains still, his breathing shallow.

Minutes later, which feel like an eternity, the sound of sirens pierces the silence. The paramedics arrive, and you reluctantly let go of Joshua as they take over, assessing his condition and preparing to move him. You insist on riding with him to the hospital, unable to leave his side.

As the ambulance speeds through the city streets, you hold Joshua's hand, your heart pounding with worry. Outside the building, a few employees gather, watching the scene unfold with concern. You barely notice them, your focus entirely on Joshua, praying silently that he'll be okay.

You don't know exactly how many hours you've been by Joshua's side as he lies in the hospital bed. You watched the morning light grow brighter through the window, dozed off, woke up to find him still sleeping, went to the bathroom, and grabbed something from the cafeteria. When you return to his room, you see Joshua awake, a nurse measuring his blood pressure. An uncomfortable silence settles in as the nurse finishes up and leaves.

You sigh, walking next to him and turning your back to him.

"Are you mad at me?" Joshua asks, his voice still weak.

You shake your head, the words snapping out before you can stop them. "No, I'm letting you rest, since you don't do it yourself."

He sighs deeply, and you close your eyes, immediately regretting your harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you this much trouble," he says softly.

You shake your head negatively, looking down. "I found you on the floor, Josh. The only reason I was there was because I forgot my keys. What if I hadn't come back?"

Joshua struggles, but he manages to reach out and catch your hand that is hanging by the bedside. His cold touch makes you glance at him. His eyes are full of exhaustion.

"Please, don't make me this worried again,"

Joshua squeezes your hand weakly. "I'll try, Y/N. I really will. I'm sorry for pushing myself so hard and for pushing you away. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."

You nod "You don't have to do everything alone, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "I know. And I appreciate it more than you know. I just... I need to find a better balance."

"Promise me you'll take it seriously this time," you say.

"I promise," he whispers, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, weakly. "I'll take better care of myself."

You sit down next to him, your hand still in his. "Good. Because you can't go through that again."

You didn't like the rumors circulating around the office about Joshua while he was away. It bothered you to hear whispers about his collapse, especially since everyone in his department knew how hard he worked and yet pretended everything was fine. 

As the days passed, Joshua's desk slowly filled with Post-it notes and snacks, contributions from you and other departments. Joshua's sudden health scare was a wake-up call, touching more hearts than just yours.

When Joshua returned today, Friday, you watched from your desk as he walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his desk. Messages of encouragement and little treats were piled high. 

His face goes red as he glances around, catching the subtle glances of his coworkers. They quickly return to their tasks, but you see the corners of their mouths twitching with barely concealed smiles.

He worked at his desk, and his department members spared him from taking on too much. As the windows started to show the darkening sky, some people had already left to go home. Unlike regular Fridays, there was no happy hour planned for tonight.

Seungkwan approached Joshua's desk, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Josh, you should really think about not doing extra hours today."

Joshua shook his head, "I'm going to take it easy for now…" a small smile formed as he looked at you. "Also, I have a happy hour for two tonight, so no extra hours."

As his friends gave you sly glances and teased you with their smiles, you felt your cheeks blush.

"Looks like someone's got a date," Seungkwan said, grinning.

How did you two end up on a date? It started in the hospital. Joshua was still recovering, lying in bed, holding your hand. The room was quiet, the noise from machines was the only sound.

"How can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your face. "I'm not mad at you, Josh. But it would be cool if you took a break every now and then. Maybe we could go to a happy hour someday."

Joshua licked his lips, still holding your hand and giving it a weak squeeze. He looked up at you, all flirty. "Would you be open to having a happy hour with just you and me?"

You blinked, shocked. "What?"

He blushed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Come on, it's so difficult for me to take a break. I'd love to have you as the motive for my breaks."

You scoffed, attempting to conceal the warmth that spread throughout your chest. "You should take breaks for your health and my sanity."

Joshua brushed his thumb against your hand, a playful grin grabbing at his lips. "Don't scold me, Y/N-nie, I'm sick," he teased.

You stared at him, a shocked smirk on your face. "You're taking advantage of me."

"Yes," he said, his smile growing. "Using the advantage, so you accept having an encounter with me."

The memory of that conversation makes you smile as you walk out of the office together, the evening air cool and refreshing. 

"So, where are we going for this happy hour?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Joshua chuckles, his eyes bright with excitement. "I thought we could try that new restaurant around the corner. I've heard good things."

You nod, feeling the tension of the week melt away. "Sounds perfect."

As you both enter the bar, the atmosphere is lively but not unpleasant. You find a cozy corner table and settle in, the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop.

Joshua looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else that makes your heart skip a beat. "Thanks for convincing me to take a break."

You smile, raising your glass. "To more breaks and less stress."

He clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile on his face. "To more happy hours with you."

After dinner, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Joshua's car. The air is filled with a comforting silence, both of you soaking in the cozy warmth of the evening. As he pulls the car up in front of your house, you pause for a moment, your heart quickening in your chest as you struggle to gather the courage to look over at him.

Instead, you direct your gaze out the windshield, staring at the street ahead of you. The dim glow of streetlights paints the night in soft hues of orange, casting shadows on the quiet neighborhood.

"Do you want to come inside?" you ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Joshua turns your face toward his, his touch gentle as he lifts your chin with a soft touch. "You want me to go inside?" he enquires, his tone soft.

You nod, your gaze drawn to his mouth. "Yes."

"Then tell me," he teases, "what exactly are we going to do inside?"

You gulp, your mind racing. "We can... we can..." you stutter. You didn't have an answer on the tip of your tongue.

Joshua leans in close to you, his smile growing wider as he whispers against your skin, "I'm going to come inside, but go easy on me," he says, his breath warm and sultry, "I'm not quite recovered yet."

You shiver at his words. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice still low and quiet as you look up at him.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I mean," he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your ear as he speaks, "that you might have to take it slow with me."

"Slow? How slow?" You're whispering, not because you're afraid of being loud, it's because you're so horny that your voice is strained. 

Joshua's lips curve into a smirk as he sees the effect he's having on you. 

"Slow," he whispers back, his voice low and seductive. "Slow to the point where you feel yourself starting to drip."

He closes the gap between you, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours as his hands slide up your hips.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside?" he asks, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Your mind could only focus on the two last words. Mind foggy. "Come inside?" 

Joshua widens his eyes slightly, then a cocky smile spreads across his face as he registers the double meaning of your words. "Hmm look at you, how nasty... I guess we can do this too..."

His lips crash against yours, no longer gentle but filled with urgency. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring, tasting. You gasp, the wet noises so sultry inside his sleek car. His hands unclasp your seatbelt, and one slide from your knee to your thigh, slipping under your pencil skirt to feel the lacy panties you wore.

"Slowly, like this," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice too sultry.

His hand moves to the front of your panties, and you instinctively raise your hips as he pulls them down, discarding them onto the car's floor. The air inside the car starts to feel foggy, just like your senses, and your breathing becomes more rapid.

Joshua's hand returns to your now bare skin, his fingers teasing and exploring the wet folds of your pussy. You moan softly into his mouth, your body reacting to every touch. And slow, just like he said, he starts to circle your clit with his finger, making you instantly melt against the seat as you spread your legs wider for him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, filled with fascination as he watches your reactions. Your mouth can't correspond to the wet kisses anymore, your hips roll against his hand, your legs spasm as you try to keep them open, and your skirt rises, revealing your sopping cunt glistening.

You find yourself pushed back against the seat, your body arching as you grow more desperate for him. His eyes never leave yours.

“I can feel how much you want this.” 

You can only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his fingers speed on your swollen bud. 

“So open, so needy.” he murmurs making you feel that sharp stitch in your belly一your horniness growing. 

His words make you moan, and he chuckles, his voice filled with a gloomy promise. “I want to hear more of that,” he says, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You cry out, your body responding instantly to his touch, your head thrown back.

“Joshua,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Yes, Y/N? Tell me what you need.”

“More,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, “I need more.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a fiery intensity. “More? I can give you more.”

With that, he increases the pace, his fingers moving inside you making the squelching wet songs, louder. He watches you so closely that you feel embarrassed; it is as if he reads everything about you and knows every secret you keep.  

“Every little touch, every little tease… you’re soaking it all up.” He coos, and you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer. 

You can only whimper in response, your body trembling with the need for release. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can sense that you are nearing collapse.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. “Let go.”

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, your body convulsing against his leather seat. Joshua holds you through it, his touch possessive, trying to keep you still so you can feel the waves better. As you come down from the high, you find yourself panting, your body still trembling non-stop.

His fingers are soaked, glistening in the pale light. With a teasing grin, Joshua brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied pop. You immediately turn your face to the window, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try to straighten your skirt. His chuckle fills the car, rich and warm.

“Shy now, are we?” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your skirt. But Joshua isn’t done with you yet. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “We can resume this inside. What do you think?”

You nod, finally daring to meet his gaze. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. You watch him circle around to your side, suppressing a laugh when he catches the glimpse of your knees trembling as you exit the vehicle.

“Did you get this horny?” he can't hide the amusement in his voice.

The walk to your front door feels like an eternity, your fingers fumbling with the keys as Joshua’s need becomes more apparent. He’s pressing his bulge against you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses your neck, making it hard to focus on unlocking the door.

Finally, the door swings open, and you grab Joshua by the collar of his white shirt, pulling him inside. Your mouths collide in a desperate kiss, his hands clutching your hips as you stumble toward the bedroom. You don’t care about the noise or the awkward angles; all that matters is the friction among you, the urgent need to be closer.

With outstretched arms, you brace yourself against the wall, your body arching toward his as he presses against you. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your blouse, unhooking your bra, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his hair while you're absorbed by the feeling.

“Bedroom,” you manage to gasp, your voice breathless and needy.

Joshua’s response is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you through the hallway. You barely make it to the bed before you’re pulling at each other’s clothes, the fabric tearing in your haste to be free of it. His shirt falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, his pants, your blouse—until there’s nothing between you but skin and heat.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kisses you sloppy. His hands continue their search, teasing, caressing, making you frantic with need. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his back as you pull him closer.

His cock lays heavily against your belly, a warm, wet spot forming on your skin from his precum. You grab his throbbing length, feeling it pulse under your touch. Joshua shudders, moaning needily against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and adding to your own arousal.

Your hand collects the sticky lubrication, spreading it along its entire length. You begin to stroke him, your other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes flutter open, trying to stay locked on yours as you speed up your strokes. His gasps and whimpers alimented your hunger, making you feel yourself oozing more and more.

At a certain point, he lets out a high-pitched squeak, hiding his face in your neck. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained and desperate.

You close your eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Open this drawer," you murmur, nodding towards the bedside table.

Joshua extends his arm, fumbling slightly as he opens the drawer and finds a couple of condoms. He picks one up, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Always prepared, huh?" he says, tearing open the shiny packet.

His hands move with such practiced ease that it makes your breath catch when you watch him slide the rubber down his length. His cock looks even more inviting now, sheathed and ready for you.

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes. Slowly, he pushes inside, filling you inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. Joshua’s groan is deep and throaty, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

For a moment, neither of you moves, so you adjust to his side, but thankfully his fingers prepared you well in his car. Then, he begins to thrust, his pace is slow at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction, his ears alert to your every moan, and every wet sound from your stretched little cunt.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Faster, Joshua,” 

He complies, his pace quickening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room is filled with the sex sounds—the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps, the creaking of the bed. You feel yourself climbing higher, the knot on your belly desperately wanting to blossom.

Joshua’s rhythm falters for a moment, his grip on your hips tightening. “I’m close,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Me too,” you reply, your nails digging into his back.

Joshua takes his cock out of you, positioning himself a little further back before slamming all the way in again. The sudden movement makes you grab his forearm, while his other hand lays on your belly. Each thrust is powerful, hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. You grow tighter around him with every second, the stimulation driving you both wild.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Am I?" you manage to gasp between his thrusts.

"Absolutely," he praises, his words going straight to your core. "You're so tight, so wet. You're perfect for me."

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back and cum for him. Joshua smiles at the sight of you unraveling beneath him—Your legs try to close instinctively, but his hips keep them wide apart. Your eyes roll back, your pussy gushing as your fingers curl around the headboard.

He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it just as your orgasm peaks. It shatters you, making you curse.

"Fuck, Joshua! You're so deep... don't stop... please, don't stop. God, you're going to make me cum again."

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, his pace quickening. "I can feel you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard."

"Keep cumming for me, baby," he whispers, his own voice shaking.

His moans grow louder, his pace more frantic. Your dirty talk pushes him to the brink, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cums hard. His loud moaning, combined with the sensation of his cum filling the condom, makes your head spin.

Joshua leaves you shaking for the second time that evening, fully exhausted and completely satisfied.

Joshua falls on his side beside you, his breaths coming hard and fast. You can't help but tease him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Are you going to faint here too? Should I call an ambulance? After all, you weren’t as slow as you said you would be."

He laughs, his chest heaving. "I’ve got enough energy to fuck you all night if you want to, leave your bed all drenched," he says, kissing your cheek and playfully slapping your clit, making you shudder.

"All night, huh?" you tease back, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Big talk for someone who just collapsed next to me."

Joshua grins, his eyes sparkling. "You doubt me?"

"I’m just saying," you reply, your tone playful. "Maybe you should pace yourself. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’m not going anywhere. And if you think that was all I’ve got, you’re in for a surprise."

You chuckle, your fingers dancing down his stomach. "Promises, promises," you whisper, your hand inching closer to his now half-hard cock. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joshua groans, his body responding to your touch. "You’re going to regret challenging me," he murmurs.

"Bring it on," you whisper back.

[hanaruri-tunes]

The demons’ reactions to Y/N asking them to fuck them (headcanons/short scenarios)

⚠️ As usual MDNI!!!

The MC can be whichever gender you want in this one. (Pretty sure I managed to keep it ambiguous?)

What follows are individual scenarios btw, it’s not MC asking every single one of them at the same time haha (I could write one like that as well though if people like this one? Not sure of how well it would turn out but I could.)

Anyway, enjoy 👇

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lucifer

He could tell something was different right away. You’re not the type to be shy with them and particularly not him. Sometimes your blatant disrespect towards him is refreshing… sometimes it’s infuriating, and yet here you are now, shifting in place, fiddling with your hands and looking down nervously. It catches his attention right away.

"Is something wrong? Y/N, if something is troubling you, you can tell me. In fact, please do so freely."

"...lease …uck me."

"...Excuse me?"

Surely he heard wrong, no matter how honest you are, there’s no way you would ask something like that with no build up-

"Please, fuck me…"

"..."

Lucifer puts his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his delight in vain. He has always wondered how to go about it, what to plan, how to charm you and get you in the palm of his hands. To think that you would come marching right ahead, falling into his hands on your own just like that. He approaches you, taking you into his arms, feeling up your body against his.

"But of course, no need to be so shy about it. Shall we go upstairs Dear?"

Mammon

Mammon felt like something was a bit different about you tonight. You kept coming closer to him, more than usual, brushing over him, smiling at him in a special way. Were you seducing him? Because if you were, it was 100% effective! But well, wouldn't it be rude to point it out? What if you stop? What if it wasn’t on purpose? So he keeps quiet and you get more and more frustrated with his inaction until it explodes.

"...Don’t you want to fuck me?!"

"Wha- Yes?!?"

Thinking twice? He didn’t even think once. He was surprised for sure but when you ask for something like this, there’s only one correct answer to give. In a flash, he pounces on you.

"Anytime, anyday, whenever you want. Please only come to me Y/N…"

Leviathan

You were harder to handle today than you usually are. Leviathan is used to holding his breath when you hug him or kiss him on the cheek. He’s used to looking away when you bend down or shutting his eyes tight when your face gets too close. But today? Today was different. You kept clinging to him, not giving him any personal space. Constantly praising and teasing him. His heart had skipped at least eleven beats in total, and even that might still be an understatement. Levi ends up breaking, asking you outright if something is wrong.

"C-Could it be that you want something from me? Sorry, I really don’t know um, if uh. Well I just don’t understand where you're getting at."

You hold back the urge to facepalm, well, it’s not like you didn’t see it coming. Leviathan thinks that he’s so unattractive that no one, and especially not you, could ever want him.

You press yourself against him, circling your fingertips on his chest.

"Jeez, you really are an idiot sometimes Leviathan… I want to fuck you. You get it now?"

His third member rises immediately at the request while his mind is still buffering.

"Uhh?? Um, y-yeah? I mean, errr. Are you like, 100- no, 1000% sure? O-Out of all my brothers me??? Isn’t that um, of course I’m not judging but maybe I’m not-"

You kiss him on the corner of his lips, shutting him up.

"I only want you to fuck me, can you do that?"

"Y-Yes. Anything you want...! ♡"

Satan

There he was again, nose stuck in his books. However your perfume caught his attention right away. You always smell nice but this fragrance was different from your usual scent. It was more mature, more seductive, more… He looks up to you, even your clothes show more than usual. Your hairstyle is different as well. Are you going out? So then why did you come to him? He coughs.

"Excuse me for staring. You look very good. Is there a soirée tonight that I’m not aware of?"

You look to the side, a bit flustered. Without a word you sit next to him on the sofa, then you slide your hand on his knee, not daring to go up to his thigh yet.

"...Would you like to fuck me?"

"..."

Silence.

He’s processing your request, making sure he understands your intentions. After a couple of seconds that seemed to go on forever, Satan closes his book and leaves it on the table. Then he leans over you, encouraging your hand to go higher on his thighs.

"Well, since you asked so politely how could I ever turn you down, hm?"

Asmo

He can tell right away what you really want since he is the avatar of lust. However he lets it play out, curious to see how you’ll go about it. Will you be all shy and cute or will you be more confident? He enjoys seeing the gears turning in your head as you’re awkwardly holding your hands together, sweating from the pressure. However he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable when asking for something as wonderful as sex, especially with him since he is quite the fanatic.

"Relax your shoulders and breathe Y/N♡"

He places his hands on your shoulders, sliding them down your arms then going back up only to fall down again, on your back this time. He starts massaging you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, making you comfortable and eager rather than nervous and scared.

"...Asmo?"

"Mh-hm?~"

"I’d like you to fuck me, is that okay?"

He stops, then pulls you over. Your back against his chest, he whispers his answer.

"What a coincidence, that’s what I’ve wanted to do to you since the very first time we met♡ How lucky that you asked for it first..."

Beel

Beel is devouring a rotisserie chicken in the kitchen… again. It seems like that’s all he does, everytime you want to find an appropriate moment to ask, well, it never is a good moment. You look at him, your spirits down, readying yourself to leave as usual. Surprisingly, he stops you and invites you to sit down.

"Y/N… Lately you always look sad when I see you. Would you like some? You know if you’re hungry you can always ask me to share."

"That’s not it Beel…"

You look down, discouraged from asking for it. All Beel always thinks and talks about is food anyway. Will he even care if you ask him something like that? Maybe he has no interest in such things, or in you.

Beel puts the food down, looking grim.

"Beel? What’s wrong…?"

"It’s difficult to enjoy the food when you look down, somehow even the taste turns foul when you’re sad."

Your chest feels tight at his words, maybe it would be good to just be honest and get it over with.

"Beel, truth is- Uhh. ... I want you to f-fuck me… But well, I can understand if you’re not interested in that sort of stuf-"

Beel’s eyes light up, his gaze stuck on you.

He takes you into his arms, carrying you out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs.

"B-Beel?!"

"That’s all you wanted? Should’ve said so earlier, I’ll finally be able to quench my hunger for a while."

Belphegor

You came to wake him as you do every morning, since you’re apparently the most skilled at this task according to the others. Still, some days it’s a challenge even for you. Like today for instance: he keeps complaining, bitching and moaning. You’d like to make this easy for the both of you but it’s complicated to keep finding different ways to encourage him to get up. Kisses, hugs, dates, and the exact same offers rarely work for over 3 times in a row. It pisses you off, could it be that he just got tired of you already?

You give up and lie down next to him, sulking and muttering.

"Asshole… What if I asked you to fuck me. Bet you wouldn’t even care, hm?"

Belphie’s eyes shot wide open, then he turned over to you. Extremely attentive to your every move and word.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Only good boys who get up at reasonable times have a right to have a go at me."

He clings onto you greedily, begging you to repeat.

"Come on, pleeease? I’ll get up right away if you ask for it."

"Nope, too late to smother me now."

He puts his hand on your waist, grabbing it firmly and pulling you towards him into the bed.

"...Please? I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be the one to ask to stay in bed."

You ponder it for a bit… Well. Truthfully, you do want him so- Shyly, you ask him.

"Mh. Then um. Will you fuck me good…?"

You feel him smile against your neck, and he answers.

"I promise I won’t let you go until you’re completely satisfied with me. ♡"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Doneee.

And my askbox is open just so y’all know, no promises on anything but do know that anything you send will definitely be seen/read even if I might not be able to answer to everything! I don’t know if I can say that my "commissions" are open but if you send me ideas and I like them, there is a chance I might write some stuff based on them 🫰

[felixbit]

employee discount, p2

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: part 2 of this fic, where you learn jeongin, a cute barista, has been giving you the employee discount at the coffee shop you frequent. after giving you his number, you decide to give it a chance. warnings: none a/n: this was super fun to write! there will be a part 3 (maybe not immediately), and it will be the final part of this story! thank you for all the support on this story :)

Ever since you walked out of the coffee shop with Jeongin's phone number on your cup, you've been smitten.

You thought that the little crush you'd had on the barista was a normal thing for a regular to have at their local shop. A cute worker was part of the fun of going. It turned out, understanding that he was at least the slightest bit interested turned you into a maniac.

After getting his number, you saved his contact in your phone and shot him a text a few hours later (and many attempts at psyching yourself up to do it) briefly saying hi and who you were. His response was almost instant.

jeongin: hey! was wondering when you'd say something

Even just one message had your heart stirring and jumping to conclusions. How long had you kept him waiting for? You forced a response out anyways.

y/n: worried i wouldn't say anything?

A pause. His texting bubble popped up once, went away, and back again.

jeongin: a bit. y/n: i'm here now!

Now that the first hurdle had been jumped through, things seemed to flow a little more naturally. His conversations over text felt as cordial as talking to him behind the counter, so you got the feeling he wasn't faking interest when you'd spoken in the past.

Originally you'd sat down to have a quick text chat with him before doing the rest of what you needed to on your lunch break. Unfortunately for you, Jeongin seemed a little too interesting and time slipped by quickly. Before you knew it, your allotted time to eat and relax was over.

y/n: bad news jeongin: what's up? y/n: lunch break's over. didn't even realize we'd been talking that long jeongin: oh gosh, i'm sorry for taking up your time! don't go hungry because of me y/n: pay me back in coffee tomorrow? jeongin: deal

After sending that text and clocking back into your shift, it dawned on you that what you said sounded a bit like a date invitation. Surely he knew that just meant you coming in normally, right? Not that you would be against a date. You considered writing a text to clarify but decided against it to get focused on work.

Throughout the rest of the day, you were plagued by thoughts of Jeongin. Normally you'd think of him once or twice and a smile would come to your face, but multiple times an hour was starting to get excessive. He was just a barista, wasn't he?

Your shift finally came to an end. As you were going home, your mind was still buzzing at the promise of seeing Jeongin tomorrow. It was almost hilarious how excited you were to see the guy you saw almost every day of the week. It wasn't even going to be that different than how you always saw him.

You got to eat your lunch when you finally settled in at your apartment. Maybe it was eating and thinking that got your mind away, but you found yourself opening your phone and searching up the name 'Jeongin' on social media. It wasn't a surprise there were quite a few people in the area with his name, but you searched anyways.

As you scrolled, one account caught your eye. The profile picture seemed like it could be him but the username confused you a bit. "i.2.n.8"? His display name was Jeongin, and when you opened the account it was almost immediately confirmed it was him. Username aside, you began to dig into his posts.

He was just gorgeous. There was no other way to put it. Every post was taken in a way that looked like he wasn't trying but somehow turned out perfect. The entire account seemed to have an unintentional aesthetic and you just couldn't stop scrolling and zooming in on photos.

Against your better judgment, you followed him. It wasn't five minute before he followed you back and you saw a text message pop up.

jeongin: stalker much? y/n: guilty

That night was fun. Your text exchange lasted almost another hour before you decided to go out. It pained you to say goodbye but you knew it was best not to burn out on conversation before you saw him next.

The next day rolled around and you were way too nervous about going out. You put on a work outfit that looked what you thought was your best and made sure to look as exceptional as you could.

The time came where you had to leave your apartment and face him. The trip over to the coffee shop was short as usual and a little too calm for how you felt inside. You approached the doors and peered inside, seeing Jeongin behind the bar hard at work.

Gaining your strength, you opened the door and walked in. Jeongin peered up from his coffee he was making and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't contain the feelings that felt like they were blooming in your chest. Either way, you continued on towards him.

"Good morning," Jeongin said in a sing-song voice as you approached, not looking up from his work.

You peered over the counter to see the cream design he was pouring into the cup, "Good morning, what are you making?"

"Ah, a little frog. I saw a video of someone making it and I wanted to give it a try," Jeongin snickered as he finished and showed you, "Looks a little lopsided, though."

It was true that the frog wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly cute. "It's wonderful. I love him."

"Well, if you like it, I like it," He said as he slid the coffee out and called out the name for the order. A man walked up and took the drink, smiling at the design. Jeongin turned his attention back to you. "What are we getting today?"

The two of you walked over to the register just as you had the morning before, "The same thing I get every day."

You began to grab your wallet from your pocket and Jeongin held out a hand, shaking his head. "My treat today. Pay you back in coffee, remember?"

A free drink was hard to say no to. You stuffed your wallet back in your pocket as he input your order into the system and punched in something that took the total down to zero. Jeongin really was sweet, wasn't he?

As he broke away from the cash register and walked back to the bar to start your drink, he looked up at you. "So, you went and found my socials yesterday?"

Your face flushed a bit. Even though it was true, you weren't expecting to be put on the spot for it. "Well, yeah. Couldn't help it."

Jeongin smiled deep. He was looking down at your drink, but his dimples gave him away. "Why's that?"

Again, not an easy question to answer honestly. "Your favorite barista gives you his number, why wouldn't you look him up?"

"Okay," Jeongin nodded, "Did I hold up to your expectations?"

After finding his page the day before you ended up looking at it an embarrassing amount of times. "I liked it, yeah. Did you like mine?"

"Yeah, it was so you," Jeongin looked up and you noticed a small flush on his cheeks, "That's a good thing, by the way."

You couldn't help but laugh. He was so charming and sweet, but he still had a bit of that boyish charm. "Thanks, I'd hope it was," You said, "How's it going over there?"

"Almost done, you keep me distracted," Jeongin grabbed a lid and popped it on your drink, holding it over the bar for you to grab from his hand, "There."

You reached over and took it from him, your fingers slightly touching and your heart pulled a few somersaults. God, this was a high school crush all over again. "It looks perfect, as always."

"My pleasure," Jeongin wiped down the bar with a cloth. You saw him stop for a moment, his eyes trained on something and his breathing was a little hard. He looked up and met your eyes, "Would you want to go out sometime?"

Oh. Oh shit. Maybe his flirting was a bit overt, but the question still caught you off guard. You stood there shell shocked for a few seconds as your brain relentlessly tried to reboot and catch up. Realizing you needed to respond, you nodded a little too hard. "Yes, yeah, I'd love that."

Before you could cringe at your own words, you saw the brightest smile on Jeongin's face. You'd never seen him smile so hard, but it certifiably made your heart melt. He nodded and seemed to compose himself. "You probably have to go to work, text me later about the details?"

You checked the time, muttering a small oh shit under your breath. A bit behind schedule, but you'd get away with it. No part of you wanted to leave him now that you agreed to a date, but duty calls. "Yeah, you're right. I definitely will!" You said as you began to walk towards the door.

"See you later!" He called out from the bar as you opened the door and walked out. Oh, shit. It was happening!

[ni-idea-07]

you will never be alone again.

Platonic Yandere Jason Todd X Reader.

TW: illegitimate siblings, cheating, mild yandere, mutilation threats, non-graphic mutilation, paranoia, threats. English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes

Somehow Jason found out he had a younger sister. It didn't really matter how he found out, but he was excited and panicked at the same time. Well, he had a lot more emotions on his mind.

He had to find you and see you for the first time in person which touched him the most.

You weren't of age yet and you weren't a baby, you could take care of yourself, but he wouldn't allow you to be alone like he was in the past.

–"Hey, brat, how much for a candy?"

You were surprised when he asked you, after all he was twice your size and he didn't seem like the kind of person who would buy the ugly and cheap candy you sold out of obligation.

Once you told him the price, he pulled out his wallet, a rather full one, you threw away the box of candy and took his wallet from him, leaving him with a smile.

He wouldn't chase you, he already knew where you would go.

Like every night you returned to the shelter where they let you sleep, that night you slept well, when you gave the money to the "Madam" - as everyone called her - she let you sleep in a bed and gave you decent food. She always took in children and forced them to sell candy so they would bring money, if they didn't bring anything at the end of the day they wouldn't eat, but those who brought enough money could eat and sleep well for a week.

The next morning you woke up feeling strangely satisfied. You had brought more money than usual and you hadn't had to run too much to get it. The "Madam" had given you a decent bed and a hot meal, which was a luxury in your daily life. But that feeling of security didn't last long.

As you stepped out onto the street with your box of candy in hand, you ran into the same man from the night before.

Jason Todd.

You didn't know his name yet, but his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall, muscular, and with an expression that seemed a mix of amusement and something more... dark.

–"Morning, little thief"– he greeted you with a sly smile, leaning against a lamppost. I hope you slept well with my money.

Your body tensed. It wasn't the first time you'd stolen, but you'd never encountered someone who came back for what was theirs. Or worse, who seemed to enjoy the game.

–"I don't know what you're talking about" – you muttered, feigning disinterest as you tried to walk away.

Jason chuckled, but his hand moved quickly, catching your wrist with ease. He didn't hurt you, but his grip was firm.

–"Oh, come on. Don't worry about it."

–"Consider it a gift."– He leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper. –"But tell me, do you like that place?"

Your expression hardened. You didn't understand what he meant.

–"I mean, the 'Madam' and her cute way of treating children. Making them work for their own food... that doesn't sound very fair, does it?"

Your stomach clenched. You didn't know why, but something about the way he said it made you feel uncomfortable.

–"It's none of your business"– you muttered, trying to let go of your wrist.

Jason didn't budge. His eyes, a deep blue, shone with something you couldn't figure out.

–"It is. And even more now that I know you're my sister...."

Your breathing stopped.

–"What... what did you say?"– you whispered, feeling the world around you shake.

Jason smirked, as if he'd been waiting for that reaction.

–"Yes. You're my little sister. I looked into it."

–"Don't worry about the details, the important thing is that I found you."

His other hand rose to ruffle your hair with a strange tenderness-. And now that I know you exist, I'm not leaving you alone in this hole.

Your instinct told you to run. To flee immediately. But Jason's grip tightened a little more, as if he could read your mind.

–"Calm down. You don't have to decide anything now."

His smile turned a little colder. –"But I'll make one thing clear to you..."

He leaned in, his breath brushing your ear.

–"If that woman ever lays her hands on you again or forces you to work one more day... I'll cut off her fingers, one by one."

A chill ran down your spine. There was no anger in his tone. There were no screams or empty threats. Just a promise said with the calmness of someone who would really do it without thinking twice.

And for some reason you knew he meant it.

Things went on as usual for the next few days... or at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. But the feeling that someone was watching you never went away. Sometimes, when you turned a corner, you saw a silhouette that disappeared too quickly. Other times, you felt a presence nearby when you were selling candy, as if someone was making sure everything went well.

And worst of all: every time you brought money to the shelter, the Madam would You looked more closely. Something had changed in her attitude.

One night, when you returned after a particularly long day, you found her waiting for you with her arms crossed and a tight smile.

–"You've been bringing too much money lately."– Her voice sounded sweeter than usual, which only put you more on alert. –Who have you been kidding, sweetheart?"

Your jaw clenched. You knew any wrong answer could cost you dearly.

–"I'm just selling well"– you replied calmly.

The Madam clicked her tongue, approaching with slow steps.

–"Don't lie to me. I've seen that man following you. Tall, leather jacket... too well dressed to be a common customer."

Your stomach churned. You couldn't deny the obvious.

–"I don't know what you're talking about."

The slap came before you could react. Your cheek burned, but you didn't make a sound. It wouldn't be the first time this happened, and you knew that reacting would only make her continue.

–"Listen to me, you little shit"– her voice sounded icy. "If you're saving money or if you're thinking of leaving, you'll regret it."

You didn't answer. You knew you didn't need to.

That night, as you lay down on the bed you'd won, fear settled in your chest. Not just because of the Madam, but because you knew Jason was right. You weren't going to last much longer here.

And sure enough, the next day, Jason stopped watching from the shadows and took matters into his own hands.

When you left the shelter, you found him waiting for you right outside, leaning against his bike with a bored expression.

–"Good morning, sis. Ready to move in with me?"

You opened your mouth to refuse, but he just held up a hand, stopping you.

–"I don't want to hear excuses. I know what that witch did to you last night."

His gaze hardened for a moment. –"I made sure she never touches you again."

Your body tensed.

–"What did you do?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly.

–"Nothing too drastic... yet. I just made it clear that if she tried to hurt you again, she'd lose more than just her fingers."

You didn't know what that meant exactly. You didn't want to know.

But when you looked back at the shelter, you saw the Madam peering through the window, her face pale as a ghost.

Your chest tightened. You didn't want to admit it... but being with Jason seemed safer than staying here.

The days with Jason in his apartment were... strange.

The place was horrible, unkempt and almost empty.

There was no decoration, just some functional furniture and a couple of guns lying around, as if they were decorations. The smell of gunpowder, cigarettes and old coffee permeated the air. Still, everything was in perfect order. Jason had made an effort to clean the apartment because he was afraid that you were allergic to dust.

Still, the real danger was him.

Jason was not normal.

From the first day, he behaved intensely. He wouldn't let you go out alone, always having an excuse to accompany you. He insisted on knowing what you were doing all the time and, if you took longer than expected in the bathroom or kitchen, he called your name impatiently, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

And when you didn't get an answer right away... well, you'd learned that Jason didn't have much patience

One time, you locked yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes longer than usual because you wanted some peace. You hadn't thought it would be a problem... until you heard a loud BANG and the sound of the door being smashed in.

Jason walked in with his gun drawn, his eyes red with fury and his breathing ragged.

–"What the hell were you doing!?"– he demanded.

Your heart stopped.

–"I... I was just in the bathroom..."

Jason stared at you for a second, then let out a shaky breath.

–"Don't do that. Don't make me worry like that."

And then, without warning, he hugged you.

It wasn't a warm, comforting hug. It was tight, suffocating, almost desperate.

–"You can't leave me alone. Not again."

His words made your blood run cold.

Again.

You had no idea who he was referring to. But in that moment, you knew it didn't matter.

Jason wasn't sane.

And you were stuck with him.

==================================

Thanks for reading.

Interactions and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.

Regards.🫠

[etherealily]

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

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

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

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

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

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It's not like you even knew Nate.

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

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

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

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

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

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

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

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

--------

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

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

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

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

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

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

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

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

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

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

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

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

A picture, along with six other messages.

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

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

"You should be."

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

"You should be here. Come."

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

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

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

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

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

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

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

So much red.

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

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

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

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

But not like this.

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

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

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

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

Yup, that sounded about right.

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

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look-"

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

"Why?"

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

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

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

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

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

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

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me go , McKay!"

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The other team's captain.

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

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

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

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

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

"Yes, Coach?"

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

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

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

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

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

"You came."

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

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

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

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smiled.

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

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

Not crack. Probably fent.

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

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

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

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

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

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

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just a coincidence, right?

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

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Small dicks?"

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

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When the fuck did you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, okay, get out."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

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

The entire football field gasped.

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

"Go. Play now."

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

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

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

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

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

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

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

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

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

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

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

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

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

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

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

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

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

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

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

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

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"You wanna come in?"

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

"I'm good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not dressing that wound?"

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

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

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

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

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.

[nattblacklupin]

Never was much of a romantic

Pairing: Cassian x Fem! Illyrian! Reader

Warning: mention of wing clipping (just as a threat), Devlon being asshole, reader simping on Cassian, reader is described as being shorter than Devlon and Cassian, random switches in pov (like two times), little bit of angst (cassian feels like he doesn't deserve love), swear words, little bit of Nesta slander

Summary: Cassian meets you in Windhaven and sees you arguring with Devlon. Something about your fierce attitude makes him want to be closer to you.

Part two ● masterlist

Cassian was never much of a romantic. He was one night stand guy. He never felt the need to actually love someone. But later on in his life, he has been feeling more and more alone. He saw his friends find love, mates. Everybody had their own person while he was stuck alone.

He, of course, had his family, the inner circle. They would help him with anything and do anything for him. But it's not the same as having a mate. Someone to love and cherish. Someone who will see through him and know when he really isn't alright.

For a while, he thought that Nesta was his mate. But then she left the night court for autumn court, specifically for the heir of autumn court. And he was alone again.

Nesta absence took a tool on him. He really thought they were meant to be, and she even acted like it. But then one day she just left, only leaving a letter as a goodbye. That made Cassian believe he didn't have a mate. They were rare, so maybe he was meant to never find her. It was possible, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was like that. At the end of the day, he is a low born bastard who doesn't deserve anything more than his ratty tent.

Rhys sent him to Windhaven to check if everyone is being trained as commanded to. If he had any say in this, he wouldn't come here. He hated Devlon and this place. It reminded him of all the bad things that happened there when he was just a child. The only good thing about this place was when he met Rhysand with Azriel. His two brothers are the only reason he's still alive.

But he had to follow the orders of his high lord. Maybe he could go to Rita's after and enjoy the night with his family after he is done here. That thought made him feel somehow lighter. Nothing is better than night with his family.

,,I will train, and I don't care what you tell me"

Cassian immediately looked the way the voice was coming from. He saw illyrian woman standing in front of Devlon. There was a visible high difference between them, but she didn't let it affect her and continued to stand her ground. Cassian was amazed by that and decided to watch for some while. If something happened, he could help her, not that she looked like she needed it. Yet as he was standing there and seeing her arguring with a man that was nearly twice her size, he came to conclusion that maybe women in this camp could put Devlon in his place even better than he ever could.

"You should be glad that you still have your wings, I could just clip them as a punishment for your disobedience"

You just laughed in his face. "do it, and my high lord will have your head. "

Cassian heart warmed at the thought that illyrian women trust Rhys to protect them. They finally trust Rhysand enough to rely on him to protect them and punish those who hurt them.

Devlon just laughed in her face, and that somehow made Cassian mad. He didn't know why he was feeling like this. He had this uncontrollable need to protect her and to make her like him. It was the first time he ever felt like this.

"Do you mean the little princeling and his two bastards? They don't give fuck about some useless woman like yourself"

"Sadly to inform you, Lord Devlon," cassian said mockingly, "but we surely give fuck, so i suggest you to step back and let that woman be"

Cassian flared his wings to make himself the bigger threat in this situation and stepped in front of you. While the two men in front of you had their own silent battle, you couldn't help but admire Cassian.

You knew who he was. Who wouldn't know him? Yet you never seen him. Yeah, you heard stories about how he looks, but your imagination could never come up with the god that stands in front of you. His tan skin. The way his muscles flexed under his leathers. And his wings? They had little scars all over them, yet you couldn't help but admire them. They were so strong. True to his reputation, these were the wings of warrior.

He slowly turned around and you couldn't see his strong back and wings, which was slightly disappointing to you, but the moment you were met with his strong chest you wished for him to never turn around. Everything about him looked so right and hot. You looked up and saw Cassian grinning at you.

,,you alright there, sweetheart?"

Your heart started beating uncontrollably fast, and you swear that it could be heard on the other side of the Windhaven. You couldn't look away from his Hazel eyes. It was like they were holding you in their mercy and weren't planning on letting you go. Yet you still needed to answer him, to hear his voice again.

"I-" before you could finish your sentence something snapped between you two.

,,mate"

[jweekgoji]

Hi can I request for yandere Sentinel Prime x maid femme s/o please

Yandere!Sentinel/Femme!Maid!Reader [TFO/hcs]

tw: yandere themes, jealousy, possessive behavior, power imbalance, master/servant relationships, mentions of objectification of reader (from Sentinel's side), controlling behavior. word count: ~1300 additional tags: cogless!reader (but I didn't state reader's height just so it will fit for everyone ig), cybertronian!reader, femme!reader, maid!reader. a/n: It's funny, but in the ± official Transformers comics, at least Nightbird, Starscream and Windblade had some sort of maid job.

I can imagine Sentinel already having a bunch of maids, running up the tower while he's too 'busy' being a Prime.

Knowing Sentinel, and his obsession with appearing like a real Prime, it's not surprising that as soon as he gets his high title, he surrounds himself with a bunch of servants who humbly work for him.

If he wants to live like a real king, then he definitely needs assistants to provide him with constant comfort.

In fact, it amuses me to think that the original thirteen Primes didn't worry about such things. Sure, they were busy on Cybertron, constantly creating new things for a young, future race, but having maids? Yeah, well, no, thanks.

After Prime takes his position, like I said, he immediately surrounds himself with trusted confidants. Airachnid is also a very good help at this point. She may not be quite the 'social' bot that she seems at first glance, but her perceptiveness can easily crack any potential rascal.

Such a concept as 'maids' hardly existed on Cybertron, so the term came right after the Sentinel → Prime.

↑ Most likely, like miners, no one thought about their need until the newly elected Prime decided to introduce a new class.

↑ Given that, there's a good chance that bots that play the role of maids aren't as high just like miners, so it's a likely that maid bots won't have t-cogs either. Poor things.

I'm not sure if it got that much popularity among the rest of Cybertron's elite, but at first the rest of the Iaconians were surprised.

↑ Like, we definitely need a new class of bots that will be used every day as servants and will suffer from the elites? Really?? But yeah...! Knowing how much they idolize Sentinel, I wouldn't even question such a decision.

Sentinel is pretty careful about who he accepts into his inner circle, so naive, incompetent, but utterly respectful bots are exactly what he needs.

This bastard can watch for hours, sitting in a comfy chair in his office, Airachnid standing silently beside him as he flips through each profile.

'Too bright, too dull, I don't like this type of frame-' even without looking twice, it can go on like this for hours until he accidentally bumps into you. Everything about you seemed to fit his every whim. You were the perfect size, the perfect paint job, and without a single flaw, what else could a bot of his stature want?

↑ Yandere! Sentinel definitely got a sense of “love at first sight” in this scenario, but I'm not quite sure what he feels for you can be called love at all.

He's not going to immediately order your services the minute you do, but you can't say he doesn't want to either. Sentinel is very concerned about how he looks in front of others.

“Should I contact her?” Airachnid decides to speak, leaning a little closer to take in the sight of the bot on the panel.

Too focused on his thoughts, the Prime flinches, but quickly hides it as he tries to compose himself and sit up straight in his seat.

“No-no need to, for now,” he clears his throat. ”I need some time to think.”

And then he can't help but come back every time to look at you. It's no secret he's interested. Each new profile is now more boring to him than the last, and at some point he doesn't have the patience not to call out Airachnid.

↑ But...! It would be too suspicious if he only called you. No, he can't let the others think he has favorites, so grudgingly, he might as well call out a few other assistants, even though he hardly paid attention to who they might be. All his attention was only on you.

From the moment you arrive, it seems that everyone's favorite Prime just can't live a day without you. Every day, you'll be at his beck and call.

He needs to clean up his own office in a hurry? You go straight to him. In the middle of the night, you're called to bring a few cubes of energon directly to his chambers? You forget about your rest for the whole night. And sometimes it gets absurd.

At some point, he even forgets that he also has other maids that run errands for him; at some point, you're promoted to be his personal maid.

Since then, you can say bye-bye to your privacy since Sentinel gets even more greedy about it. Having you helping him and cleaning around is not enough at one point. Of course, like any other hardworking person, you need to rest; he doesn't want you to end up passing out because of low energon in the middle of nowhere. That is why you should always be kept next to him.

During the important meetings, when many members of Iaconian elite group came to the tower, discussing boring, important stuff, you're here to make sure that everyone is satisfied and happy. He wants to keep his high rate of approval after all!

Seeing how other bots look you up makes him practically grind his teeth. Part of him hates it deep to the core of his spark; the other is arrogant about it, knowing how none of them can actually have you. You're his personal favorite, so there is no way someone would dare to take Prime's maid.

↑ but if someone dares to make a gross, disgusting comment about you, he'd make sure that they learn the lesson. He wouldn't kill them, since he doesn't want to stain his servos in energon, or lose an important member, so he just scares them off in ‘seize them, cut their throat! oh, wait— I changed my mind!’ way.

The more you stay close with Sentinel, the more comfortable he gets. At first, it's all started with keeping your presence nearby. Nothing too suspicious or weird; you may think he's just testing your skills, and that alone makes you put more effort into your work,  even though the reason for his staring is a little different than you might think.

↑ He's not a hardcore yandere even though when he ‘‘falls in love’, it hits him hard. There will be this overly sweet period with him, where he shows that he does actually care about you. Like when you can't reach for something, he will help to get it for you, or if you're too tired, he lets you rest with him together in the privacy of his office. Overall, when he wants to show himself from the good side, Sentinel is such a perfect mech.

↑ He's always polite, and when he's with other bots who are lower in rank than him, he acts all humble; it's hard not to feel at ease around him.

But as much as a bastard Sentinel is in canon, yandere Sentinel still doesn't treat his darling as equal. Like I mentioned in previous headcanons for Sentinel, he sees only himself as ‘a king’, and sharing that title with someone else will only take the part of power he wants to have.

He's still selfish and arrogant, since he believes that his maid lover was created only for him, and him only. There is a part of him that actually sees you as an object that he wants to possess, and it's not really romantic.

↑ Sentinel loves to control everyone and everything, and his pretty darling is not an exception. If he sees you slacking off when you're supposed to work, he's not shy to scold or even punish you. It's nothing too drastic, at least for now, but that will make you remember that you work for a Prime, after all.

[loverickyys]

. ݁𖦹₊ ⊹ Professor Hanbin!

minors dni (answering an ask by anon, can't include it unfortunately!)

- frankly speaking you were not a bad student. always able to keep up with the burden of assignments in uni but it all changed when your psychology professor had to leave mid semester, a younger professor coming in to substitute him.

- you never thought the new professor will turn out to be so hot that from being a top scorer your grades will plummet so badly, all due to him of course.

- don't get it wrong, hanbin is a great teacher. he listens well, he never discourages anyone, helping everyone around with his ever pure and angelic smile. in your eyes he is literally an epitome of gorgeous.

- and that's where the problem starts. he is so hot and pretty that all you can do is stare at awe, blushing when he smiles back at you so beautifully or your stomach exploding in butterflies when he bends down slightly against you to help you with a question.

- no wonder all you think about before, during and after his class is him. your head is filled with him. hanbin, hanbin, hanbin cluttering in your mind even at a glance of him.

- exam season comes and you fail badly. (who else can be blamed other than your sexy professor of course). while distributing the results hanbin's eyebrows furrow with disappointment as he asks you to stay back after the class to have a chat. the sadness from the awful result already vanishing as your heart beats with excitement getting to spend some time alone with him.

- "i wouldn't lie to you. i am pretty disappointed, you were among the top students earlier the semester. makes me wonder if my teaching methods are not helpful to you. do you need any help, you can always ask me." hanbin sighs, leaning back on his desk with you standing in front of him. the class is empty and only the soft music he plays during the sessions can be heard in the background. he looks displeased and confused, staring at you for some reason.

- you look in his deep black eyes. he is looking even sexier today, wearing a white shirt, left unbuttoned to show his tattoos, brown trousers that fit make his thighs look delectable and glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose.

- "it's not my fault professor, you are always distracting me." you smile a little, a weird confidence overtaking you (probably directed by the horniness you feel looking at him) as you stand up straighter coming on his eye level. hand moving slowly to pop open a button of your pink blouse to show some cleavage.

- hanbin gulps slightly seeing your movements, eyes not so shyly going to your boobs. "i am not sure what you mean by that. and if it's what i am thinking it is, i'll have to say that is highly inappropriate of you." he tries to fight back. he has now rolled up the sleeves oh shirt, hand flying to open another of his shirt's button as if to mimic your actions.

- you know he is clearly not backing away. pushing yourself more you lean towards him, palm coming in contact with his chest, your index finger tracing the lines of his tattoo. "and what are you going to do hanbin, report me? you want this too, accept it."

- there is a glint of surprise in hanbin's eyes but he regains his composure almost immediately. smirking as he grabs your chin pulling you closer, lips inches away from you. his arm wraps strongly around your waist, trapping you in his hold. "what do you want? just say it" he scoffs and let's go of you leaving you a little frustrated with the want to connect your lips together and taste him. your thighs rub uncomfortably, panties sticking due to how wet it feels underneath your white skirt.

- "i want you to pass me in this exam" you cross your hands across your chest. hanbin chuckles darkly, eyes now filled with lust. "and why would I do love?" he smiles at you, taking off his glasses and putting them on the desk. "because if you do i'll let you use me as your personal cumslut, professor"

- he doesn't need to be told twice, picking you up immediately, nails digging in your thighs as you yelp and hold on to his shoulders. he throws you on his desk not caring about the mess he is making. "you really shouldn't be talking like that you know?" he grabs you by the neck pulling you in for a messy and rough kiss, tongue sliding in your mouth instantly. your hands tug at his hair pulling him closer and closer while his pry your legs open, now standing between them.

- you let go to catch your breath, a string of saliva between you both as hanbin attaches his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking harshly. you moan at the sensation and feel one of his hands sneakingly going inside your skirt and underwear. his fingers excitedly rub circles at your clothed core and he slips his index inside your hole, hooking it up and teasing your sweet spot. "fuck i- hanbin i-" you groan out as he fingers you slowly. "cat got your tongue now huh?" he teases you adding another finger.

- the way his fingers move in and out of you and the added pleasure of his mouth marking your neck and collarbone has you cumming in no time. he helps you ride the orgasm, cooing at how pretty you look practically screaming his name. he pulls out his fingers to pop them in his mouth, groaning in satisfaction at your taste before taking them out and pushing them in your mouth for you to suck on.

- you suck on his fingers delicately then instantly drop on you knees to return the favor. looking up at hanbin as he stares at you with pure lust and awe in his eyes. "let me help you professor" you give him an innocent smile and unzip his trousers. there is a patch on his boxers, cock begging to be freed from its confinements. you palm him gently as he grabs your hand. "don't be a tease now love" he says and you follow his orders, pulling his boxers down with the trousers. cock slapping at his stomach, tip red leaking with precum. it looks pretty just like he does all the time. your mouth waters as you lick a big stripe from the top to the bottom of his cock, sucking the tip lightly.

- hanbin grunts when you take him fully, mouth wrapped around him and hands playing with his balls. your tongue swirls around his cock, loving his taste. "you are such a whore, aren't you love" he groans in pleasure fingers tugging your head as he starts to fuck your mouth. you moan around him, the degradation making you rub your thighs together. you take whatever he gives you, now speeding up as tears well in your eyes, spit gathering at your chin.

- hanbin cums with a low groan, eyes blown, shirt all messed up, not letting your mouth leave his cock for one bit. when he is done he lets go off your hair and pulls you back. you still sit on the floor diligently, opening your mouth to show him you have swallowed everything. he smiles, his whisper dimples showing at his cheeks, "such a good girl, my little cumslut. consider your grades up love." you smile back at him, never been more satisfied.

(Had to repost because my account likes to get on my nerves sometimes :)

[moonchild701]

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Secret Santa

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Summary: The League has a Secret Santa event and you get Dabi. Chaos ensues.

Pairing: Dabi/Gen Reader

Content Warning: Crack, Fluff, SFW, Quirked Reader (kinda like Blackwhip?), Endeavor Bashing(?)

Word Count: 1.7k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 2nd part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Secret Santa

My Masterlist

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It's really Toga's fault.

Her wanting to celebrate Christmas wasn't really a surprise to anyone who knows her, because it really shouldn't be.

In Japan, Christmas is like another Valentine's day, where it's full of couples in love celebrating with each other, going into the new year.

It's also a time of family, one of which she no longer has, biologically speaking. Now with her new family, she wants to celebrate with them and show them how much she loves them!

And being the baby of the group, the others tend to indulge her when they can, letting her have a childhood as much as they can manage in their line of life.

So when she asked to decorate the bar, they let her.

When she asked to make chocolate chip cookies, Kurogiri made them right along with her.

When she asked to do a secret Santa exchange, they indulged her.

.....And that's where it went all wrong.

Because see, you got Dabi as the one you're to give a gift to.

You think anyone else might've been easier to find a gift for.

Shigaraki would've been easier. Just throw a new video game or game merch at him, and he'll be happy.

But Dabi? What the fuck does that man even like other than arson and revenge?!

You thought to maybe get him some new piercings or something but that just seems so....bland.

And it could work, could be enough for him, but it wouldn't be enough for him to you.

Not after nursing a festering crush on him for almost as long as you've known him.

So after agonizing for days over what to get him, with time ticking down, you resorted to asking the others for ideas.

What made you think asking criminals, murderers and psychopaths, would be a good idea, you don't know, but you did.

And maybe there's something to be said about you that you actually listened to their advice.

"Chocolates and confess!" Toga had said. You swear her pupils turned into hearts at the thought of love, and frankly, you were scared.

"A new fashion sense may do." Compress said, doing tricks with a deck of cards. You still don't know if he was joking.

"A gift with meaning, maybe something you have in common." Twice said earnestly, before immediately ruining it. "You, wrapped in nothing but ribbons. He'd love that!" And, well, you don't feel like simultaneously embarrassing yourself and getting burnt to a crisp so.....

"I can show you where I got my Stain merch!" Spinner said with stars in his eyes. The poor guy looked so dejected when you declined, but again, you like not being crispy.

"Some manners perhaps?" Polishing a glass, Kurogiri said it so seriously, you had to laugh. Again, you don't even know if he was joking.

"Just get him some more jewelry, hon. You can't go wrong there, right?" Of course Magne was the most sensible but it just wasn't enough! You may not want to outwardly confess your feelings but you still want to show it in some way; show him that you care.

And as a last resort, you turned to Shigaraki.

"Tch, I don't know, Endeavor's head on a pike? He's always complaining about him." Shigaraki said, eyes trained on his switch, barely paying you any mind. And yet, it was the most profound thing to you in your dumb, love sick mind.

Because of course that's what you should get him! His revenge on a silver platter! You won't take his revenge from him, stealing his kill and the satisfaction of it, but you can do something.

Now, a sane person would step back and think to themselves, hey. This is the Number Two Hero in the country. Mayhaps have a solid, sensible plan.

But alas, that was not you, for you are in love with a less than sane person, which absolutely made you at least half insane by osmosis.

So with a bright, chirped, "Thanks Shiggs!", you went on your way.

Shigaraki did not acknowledge this, nor did he process a word of this interaction.

*****

Mind set, you find your way to Endeavor's house. You would think that being such a huge public figure, he'd live in a secure, gated community at least. But no, he just lives in a giant house in a normal neighborhood, albeit on the wealthy side of the spectrum.

The traditional style of it is beautiful, if a bit gaudy, but you figure it comes with being Number Two.

At midnight, you sneak in. It's honestly pathetic how easy it is, with no alarms or anything going off.

Light on your feet, you make your way through the house. It takes a while, but you eventually find his bedroom.

The man, of course, sleeps like the psychopath he is.

Flat on his back, hands clasped over his stomach, without a blanket, feet hanging over the edge of the bed by his ankles.

He snores like a congested bear, so whatever sounds you might've made are drowned out.

The black tendrils of your quirk whip out, simultaneously snagging his wrists, arms, torso and legs, as a thick cord of it wraps tightly around his throat, holding him in place as he momentarily struggles, while you inject him with tranquilizer, only releasing him when he falls back unconscious.

You hum in satisfaction at your handiwork, before realizing you need a way to transport and store him.

A quick text to Kurogiri has you in one of the League's spare warehouses, making use of one of the empty shipping crates lying around as it's the only thing on hand that's big enough to fit him into.

Using your quirk, you lift him into it, not caring enough to be gentle, instead just kind of....tossing him in.

Closing the lid, you leave him overnight, knowing he'll stay unconscious, though still breathing thanks to the holes in the box.

The next day, you come back with supplies.

Earphones in, you listen to the news on Endeavor's disappearance, and the fact that there are no leads, satisfied as you get to work.

After trying to make him look somewhat presentable, sticking a shiny, blue bow to his forehead with gorilla glue, because his sweat kept making it peel off, you wrap and decorate the crate, trying to make it as pretty as you can given the circumstances, and you smile satisfied with your gift. He's pumped full of tranquilizer and quirk suppressants, wrapped up nice and tidy, so all that's left is to present him.

You hope Dabi likes his gift.

*****

Christmas day is soon upon you, and everyone is ready with their presents.

Tomura gets some prequirk game from Spinner and he lights up brighter than the Christmas lights Toga put up.

Compress gets a pair of pretty, gold cufflinks from Shigaraki.

Twice gets a book that he's been gushing about for weeks from Kurogiri.

Toga gets a case with vials of blood, within a bat themed purse from Magne.

Kurogiri gets a new wine set from Compress.

Magne gets a dress from Twice, handmade and pretty.

Spinner gets some Stain merch from Dabi, which...fitting but why the fuck do they know where to get them??

You get a pretty knife with intricate carvings on the handle from Toga.

The last one to receive their gift is Dabi, and you're nervous. You ask Kurogiri to transport you all to the warehouse, explaining that it can't fit in the bar and it might not be safe anyway, and all of them follow curiously, not knowing what to expect.

*****

Dabi looks at the giant, wrapped box with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

It's big. Bigger than what should make sense for a Christmas gift. It's wrapped meticulously in shiny, blue and black iridescent wrapping paper, topped with a giant, pearly white bow, and it sticks out like a sore thumb, looking out of place among the bland brown of the surrounding crates and grey, concrete walls and floors.

He feels an ominous presence from it, and is sorely tempted to just light it ablaze.

Glancing at your nervous yet excited smile, he decides against it....for now.

You gesture towards it, with a shaky, "Merry Christmas Dabi." He hums, walking cautiously towards it. He considers burning off the paper, but decides to keep to the tradition of tearing it apart like a child on, well, Christmas, to reveal the shipping crate.

He glances at you one last time, then opens the crate, before promptly bluescreening.

Because inside the crate is the last thing he expects.

Within it, Endeavor lays slumped, tied up, with a blue ribbon stuck to his forehead, drooling onto his chest.

The warehouse is completely silent, everyone in disbelief at what they're seeing.

You play with your fingers, twiddling your thumbs. "Do you like it?", you ask, all hopeful and sweet, like you didn't just gift someone a grown ass man in a box.

In the silence, your voice echoes, and it seems to be what they needed, because everyone snaps back into their bodies, realizing that oh. This is real.

"What the fuck..." is Dabi's first response, his voice shaky with bewilderment.

"Um...I also have Chocolates?" You laugh nervously. Maybe he doesn't like it.....

Suddenly, Dabi grabs your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours in a firm kiss, then pulling back to stare into your eyes. "You're mine now."

And you smile, dopey and bright. "Uh huh."

The moment is interrupted when Shigaraki finally reboots. "WHAT THE FUCK, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU—" He begins to rant, but you cut him off, confused.

"Shiggs, you were the one that gave me the idea...." you say, brows furrowed.

Shigaraki looks positively baffled at the foreign truth you speak, a vein bulging at his temple.

"WHEN THE FUCK—" He starts again.

"WHILE YOU WERE PLAYING ON THE SWITCH?!?! TWO DAYS AGO!?! PAY ATTENTION WHEN PEOPLE ARE SPEAKING TO YOU DAMMIT!!"

In the background, eyes bright, Dabi kicks the crate, jolting the unconscious trash, and grins.

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[australet789]

Honestly, i wouldn't be surprised if Ares was indeed helping Odysseus beat Poseidon up and why his eyes were glowing up red

In the books, Athena helps Odysseus twice with the Phaecians before he reaches Ithaca and she reveals herself. Now, the Phaecians don't appear in Epic

However, Athena's helping does

"Keep Your Friends Close" appeared in Athena's Time Dive in "Love in Paradise". Considering no one knew about what the bag was supposed to do except Aeolus (and the winions), im almost certain she was the one who told Hermes about it to give to Odysseus again. Poseidon here is more active than in the books (he was busy partying lmao), the bag coming back as a Chekhov's gun makes sense. That would be the first helping tied to the books: Athena there helps Odysseus "infiltrate" the Phaecians since they werent used to strangers and would have immediately killed him. She was dressed as one of them so Ody could use his wits to convince one of the girls to help and so the King.

Anyone wondering why a specific Winion suddenly got a Voice Actor?

Now how do the Phaecians help? They make Odysseus travel to Ithaca safe, during the night so he is safe from Poseidon's eyes (beats me how they thought a god couldnt sense someone at night but anyways) and him being asleep in a boat full of "treasure"

You know what else is called full with "treasure" in Epic?

Oh yeah, the windbag.

Now about Ares. We know he was watching Telemachus' and Antinous' fight. He calls both Ody and Telemachus weak and cowards for not even trying to fight when odds are against them (see Scylla). But in "600 Strike" Odysseus wants to fight Poseidon, he is tired and done with everyone's bullshit but specially the Gods. And we know that Ares also didnt like Athena being bullied by Zeus' in "God Games".

He was promised a bloodshed by his sister, but how one man can proof to being able to handle 108 men just by himself? Odysseus in the books was seen as weak because he used only a bow in his fights, since it was a "cowards weapon for being used to long distances attacks".

So he now uses a Trident. Odysseus is willing to change his mindset to go to see his family, to use a melee attack instead of avoiding fighting. Like the King of the Phaecians being impressed by Odysseus journey, Ares is also impressed by him actually wanting to fight a god. So he grants him help.

The last of Athena's helping hand before reaching Ithaca

[corpsekiller]

pls can you write gintoki finding out her s/o is pregnant? would he be happy? would he not? your choice (you can make it fluff or angst and i will be happy either way)

thank you so much for sending this request, i absolutely adored this idea! i was honestly considering writing this incredibly angsty, but i don't think gintoki would let his partner down if he truly loved them, so fluff it is. i hope you enjoy <3

PAIRING. sakata gintoki x fem!reader

WARNINGS. unexpected pregnancy and so much fluff

MASTERLIST

It's one of those days — one that drags out in tranquility, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Gintoki slouches in his usual spot at the Yorozuya, draped over the blue sofa with no space left for anyone else to sit as he absentmindedly pokes at the remains of his parfait and he flips through the newest Jump magazine. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't even look up when you come in, though at least he puts in the effort to grunt lowly in a half-hearted greeting.

"Gin?" You ask carefully, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other as if the movement could ease some of the unbearable anxiety that churns in the pit of your stomach. "I really need to tell you something important."

"If it's about some new bill, just add it to the mountain in the corner over there." Your boyfriend doesn't take his eyes off the page he's currently reading, only raises his hand to give you a dismissive wave that gestures towards his desk where stacks of papers and unopened letters rest, right next to his wooden sword and a few coins of loose change that wouldn't even be enough to buy a bottle of strawberry milk.

For a moment, you just stare at him — to be truthful, you always admired his unheeding act, this mask of utter boredom that never seems to crack, no matter what kind of danger he faces like a rock amid the crashing waves of the sea, but right now, it's nothing more than infuriating. The thought of turning on your heels and leaving crosses your mind for a fleeting second, followed by dreading fear that tries to convince that he'd kick you out anyway if you tell him the reason for your unannounced visit and yet—

"Gintoki!" You snap, raising your voice just enough for him to actually look at you this time.

Just as you hoped, that catches his attention. Immediately, he straightens up and turns to face you, a glint of genuine surprise flickering across his face before it dims behind the furrow of his brows.

It takes him exactly five seconds to notice that something is definitely wrong.

Five seconds in which he lets his gaze linger on you, studying the way your hands fiddle with the hem of your sleeve and your chest heaves as you draw in a shaky breath, noticing the soft pout of your lips and the glaze in your eyes as if you're on the verge of crying before he speaks up.

"What's going on?" He asks tentatively, his voice gentle, now that he's realized how serious the situation truly is. There's a glint of confusion in the maroon of his eyes and you fight the urge to run away, try to keep your feet in place as you bury your fingers in the fabric of your clothes and push out the words before you can think too much about their weight.

“I’m… I’m pregnant, Gin.”

The silence that follows fills the entire Yorozuya and spills out into the busy streets of Edo. Your heart thunders in your chest, loud and violent, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stare at him, waiting for a reaction no matter how much it scares you.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen and his mouth drops open, perhaps to offer you a stupid joke or a sarcastic remark, but no sound tumbles from his parted lips as your statement slowly sinks in.

Instead, he blinks once, twice, gaping at you owlishly.

Then, as if on mere instinct, he jumps back like you just announced you're carrying an alien parasite inside your body. "Pregnant?! Like... with a tiny human? In there?" He asks, wide-eyed and stuttering, pointing at your stomach in disbelief. "Are you sure it's not just a food baby?"

Exasperated, you roll your eyes, though you can't help but crack a small smile at his idiocy. "Yes, I'm sure."

"How could this happen? I mean, I know how it happened, but—," Gintoki mutters to himself, stumbling over every syllable as he paces around the room, gesturing wildly and occasionally running his hand through his hair, tousling it in a frenzy — even worse, he looks like someone just told him strawberry milk has been banned for all eternity. "I was careful, I swear! I don't even eat my snacks without a napkin!"

Now, that's just a blatant lie.

Yet, despite the former shock, you can't help but chuckle, which only makes him pout more.

"Alright, alright," he finally mutters, seemingly trying to pull himself together. "So, I'm officially gonna be a dad, huh? It's not like I've been pulling this job off for two other brats... Just give me a minute process that — this is a big deal, like finding Jump's on break for the week kind of big. Y'know, traumatizing."

That comment earns him a slap on the back of his head.

"Yeah, okay, I deserved that," he huffs, rubbing over the sore spot where you hit him to ease some of the ache. "Guess I can’t get by on nothing but dango and parfaits if there’s gonna be another kid around, huh? My wallet was already dying, but now it’s going to be a corpse."

But even as he complains, you notice how his expression softens and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, dreamy and even a little proud. Slowly, he steps closer and wraps his arms around you, surprising not only you but himself as well as he pulls you against his chest and presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Y'know, I'm not exactly what you'd call dad material. Most people just call me lazy, reckless, a walking sugar crash waiting to happen," he murmurs into your hair, trailing off as he loosens his arms around your shoulders and pushes you back just enough to get a good look at your face. "But I guess if you’re crazy enough to want me in this with you… I’ll try not to screw it up. Too much, anyway."

Your lips curve upwards and you quickly cover your mouth with one hand in an attempt to stifle the laugh that dares to escape, but he already picked it up — he might not have reacted how a loving partner should have to such news, but he knows exactly how to ease your tension and bring back that smile he always loves to see on your face.

"We'll do this together, okay? Just promise me one thing," he continues, mischief glinting in his eyes. "If this kid tries to start eating my parfaits or cuts into my dango stash, you’re the one who has to deal with it. I’m not above grounding my own kid for a stolen snack, got it?"

With that, Gintoki gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and pulls you with him to settle on the sofa, cuddled against his side as things slowly return back to normal. Well, as normal as life can get now that he knows a child is on its way. But even if he has no idea what the future holds, one thing is certain—he’ll be facing it by your side.

Taglist: @jaerang @justwolosers @imjustaweirdnerd

[pollymorgan]

Teacher Negan - The Football Game - Part 1

Warnings: A very large age difference and of course, smut

Oh, and very important: It's all fiction of course! Please, my dears, use condoms and don't go with old men! :-P

That my mother has to move several hundred miles away with my aunt to open a beauty salon, especially before the last year of my high school, was initially a big shock for me, but now I also see the advantages it brings. First of all, I finally get out of my little town, and there's also the immediate proximity to my cousin. Cassady is 5 years older than me, to be exact 23, but we have always gotten along great. Another advantage is that I no longer have to see my ex-boyfriend every day, since we are no longer in the same class. Plus, I still have almost the entire summer vacation ahead of me to enjoy life to the fullest, like now at this football game. If I were to say I love football, that would be an understatement, because it feels like every American does. For me, it's an absolute dream to live in the city of my favorite team. That's why I'm wearing the appropriate hoodie over my dress and, of course, the matching cap at the game.

The atmosphere in the stadium is absolutely insane and totally captivating. Even if my cousin doesn't really see it that way and only came along because of me.

Now we just have to push through a horde of men to get to our seats. And then hopefully it will start soon. Even though the game will really become secondary. Because the atmosphere alone is reason enough to be here.

Getting to our seats, however, proves to be more difficult than expected. We each have two large beer cups in hand and somehow have to get through this crowd. But the line at the drinks stand was huge, and I didn't want to spend the start of the game waiting in line. So we planned ahead. I almost managed to get to my seat unscathed, when suddenly this guy turns around in a flash. Everything happens so quickly that I can't react anymore, and so I spill half of the beer on him and myself. The tall stranger initially looks at me very angrily and is about to scold me, but then his look suddenly changes as his dark eyes meet mine.

"What the hell.. oh, sorry.. I didn't mean to spill your drink, ...can I offer you a new one? Of course, only if you're already 21.." He starts to grin, and his perfectly white row of teeth shines through his silver-black beard.

I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation and look bewildered at the large wet spot on his black shirt under his dark jacket. Guys my age are never dressed so well. Only maybe for a funeral or a prom, and I've never been to either.

"I'm already 22.." I say somewhat defiantly, and according to my fake ID, that wouldn't even be a lie.

"Perfect.." he concludes.

He turns around to hand me a full beer from the drinks available behind him. I take it gratefully, and finally my cousin and I can sit down exhausted in our seats.

Immediately she whispers excitedly in my ear, "Did you see how that guy looked at you? He's at least twice as old as you and basically undressed you with his eyes .. pretty cringe..".

I look at her innocently, "Cringe? I actually find him quite cute!"

"Cute?" she asks in surprise, rolling her eyes.

The stranger sits down in the seat right next to me and toasts us.

"Thanks," I say again.

"No problem, pleasure to meet you, i’m Negan!"

"Sam.." I stammer somewhat clumsily.

Then everyone turns back to their groups. After a while, I'm engrossed in conversation with my cousin again, but the guy next to me has put on such an intense cologne that it lingers in my nose the whole time. It smells so ruggedly masculine that it almost drives me crazy. Whenever I have the chance, I shyly glance to the right, but he doesn't look at me anymore. I'm strangely disappointed, so I try to push that thought aside.

The game is running fantastically. My team is winning, which makes me so euphoric that I even infect my cousin with it.

After the game, as we're getting ready to leave, someone roughly grabs my arm. I startle briefly, then look back into the dark eyes that send a pleasant tingling sensation through my entire body.

"Do you and your friend maybe want to come with us to a bar to celebrate the victory a bit?" he asks with a deep tone, and I feel my stomach vibrating at his words.

Suddenly, my cousin's voice snaps me out of my trance. "No, sorry, we have to get up early..".

I look at her puzzled.

"Um, actually... apologize for us for a moment!".

The stranger seems to be thoroughly amused by this situation.

I turn to her and whisper in her ear, "That sounds fun... come on, let's go with them!"

"With these guys?!" she says a bit too loudly.

Startled, I turn around, but he is engrossed in a conversation again and apparently, thankfully, hasn't noticed. After a seemingly endless discussion, we agree that I will go to the bar with them without her. But only with the promise to be reachable on the phone at all times.

Reluctantly, Cassady bids me goodbye with a hug and whispers in my ear, "Take care of yourself... and don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Since my cousin has quite a bit of a checkered past, I don't even feel guilty promising her that.

When I agree to go with them, the stranger firmly takes my hand to guide me through the crowd out of the stadium. I'm initially a bit shocked by this strange situation, but fearing to lose him among the crowd, I interlock my fingers tightly with his and let him lead me out of the stadium.

The three of us, along with another man, take a seat on the backseat of a large black Audi. The men in the car are engaged in lively conversation about the game. Fortunately, I understand quite a bit about football and can engage in some discussion without sounding dumb, even though everyone else present is probably 30 years older than me.

After a short ride, we park in front of a small bar.

As we enter, the smell of smoke and alcohol greets me. The men take a seat at a round table, and I excuse myself for a moment to go to the bathroom.

There, I take off my sweater and am quite glad that I'm wearing a short black dress underneath. I take off my cap and let my hair down, then adjust it and try to fix my makeup a bit. I take a deep breath a few more times, looking at myself in the mirror. Then I go back, determined. But the table is empty. Startled, I look around, a thousand thoughts racing through my head.

But then I hear someone call out, "Here we are!" The voice comes from the billiard table. Relieved, I see Negan sitting on a sofa in front of the others. I walk purposefully towards them.

Two are already playing, and the clattering of the balls drowns out the conversations in the entire bar.

Since the couch is already occupied, I take a seat on the armrest next to Negan. He unabashedly looks me up and down and then offers me a beer.

"You look damn good..." he says directly, making my heart skip a beat and my cheeks blush.

After the men finish their game, I challenge him. He accepts with a smile, probably not expecting that I practically grew up at the billiard table. As he takes his first shots, he realizes it's not as easy as he thought, which pleases me.

Watching him concentrate more on the game makes me proud, and he looks even better doing it. As he leans closer to make his next move, he unexpectedly gives me a rather strong pat on the backside.

"Hey, unfair move!" I protest immediately, which only elicits a tired smile from him, but sends a strong tingle down in my lower abdomen.

But I manage to win against him, albeit very narrowly, which clearly annoys him. Afterwards, he has to endure some teasing from his buddies. Resignedly, he sits back on the sofa, and I proudly perch on the armrest again.

During the next round with his friends, we engage in animated discussions about their gameplay and continue drinking our beer. After a while, Negan starts touching my bare shin. At first, he just places his warm hand there, but then he starts stroking it slowly. The touches of his large rough hands are so gentle that they give me goosebumps. I enjoy this feeling and what it does to me to the fullest. I'm disappointed when he lets go of my leg, but only to offer me a vodka shot that the waitress had placed on a large tray in front of us. The drink is much needed, as my mouth feels incredibly dry.

We clink glasses, and I down the shot in one go. The sharp alcohol burns in my throat and then warms my stomach, shooting straight to my head. I can tell that Negan is watching my every move closely.

As soon as I place the empty glass back on the table, he puts his hand on my thigh.

"You look so damn sexy drinking it all in one go, do you like swallowing other things too?" he whispers unabashedly.

I almost slap him out of reflex, but as I look into his grinning face and his lustful eyes meet mine, my whole lower abdomen tightens, and I can't help but smirk. We gaze at each other for a while, and then I decisively say, "Why don't you find out.."

Without warning, he pulls me onto his lap, and before I know it, I'm straddling him, and he immediately starts kissing me. His lips are incredibly demanding. I place my hands on his cheeks to try to control the situation somewhat, while I completely forget everything around me and simply ignore the stupid comments from others.

His fingers trail down my back purposefully, immediately gripping my buttocks tightly. Then he presses me firmly against his pelvis. Excited, I breathe against his open mouth as I feel his penis getting harder and pressing strongly against me.

Sensing my hesitation, he whispers softly, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing.. it's just pretty big.." I grin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He smiles contentedly and presses me against him again, then gently kisses the sensitive skin on my neck and says in my ear, "Oh, don't worry, pretty princess, I'll order a taxi for us now, and then we'll go to my place where I'll pamper you so much that your little pussy will get nice and wet for me, and then my big, hard cock can slide into you slowly and effortlessly. How does that sound?"

His deep voice and direct manner drive me crazy. I nod decisively and kiss him again. I then take his right hand off my butt and guide it under my dress, directly between my legs.

"I'm already so wet for you, feel it!" I reply somewhat shyly.

His fingers deftly shift my panties aside, while his eyes scan my face precisely, enjoying every reaction from me. Slowly, he skillfully glides his middle finger through my cleft, causing me to involuntarily flinch.

"You're such a naughty sweet girl!" he remarks amusedly, as his finger leaves my most intimate place again, moistening my lips with my wetness. He then kisses me again, passionately sucking my taste from my lips. "You taste incredibly good.." he says contentedly.

[lilahisntsadanymore]

A very long time ago, seriously maybe a year ago, one anonymous person requested:

hii i was wondering if you can do a request where the reader is with bonnie, but finn secretly likes her? reader is worrying and cleaning up bonnie after boxing and finn is kinda jelly

Hope you will enjoy it!

Pairing: Bonnie Gold x fem!reader, Finn Shelby being into reader

Words count: 2.1k

Warnings: none I think

Y/f/n - your father's name

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Actions & consequences

Y/n Y/l/n - Bonnie's biggest fan and supporter in his boxing career. Since they've met, she had never missed any of his matches, nor his sparrings and surprisingly he won every time. Of course, Bonnie believed his hard work and the effort he put into training were just a half of the reason why he kept winning.

"You're my lucky charm, did I ever tell you that?" Bonnie said, like he did many times before. And like many times before, it brought a smile upon Y/n's face.

"Maybe once or twice." Y/n joked. Obviously, there were definitely more than two times. "Could you stop talking for a moment, though? Please, just for the moment I take care of this cut."

Bonnie nodded his head and let Y/n do what she usually used to do after his fights.

They were at King Maine's gym. The trainer was talking to Bonnie's defeated opponent. They were standing by the door, far away from the winner and the girl, so his words were inaudible, but the way he was explaning something seemed to be aggressive, considering his rapid gestures. Not like Y/n would pay attention to anything the trainer was saying, even if she could hear him. She was busy cleaning up her boyfriend's cuts, because even the best fighters get hurt. You can't win a fight without getting a few cuts and Y/n didn't mind taking care of Bonnie's.

The boy was sitting on a chair with the girl straddling his lap, her clothed chest extremely close to his naked, sweaty one. In her hand, she had a wet cloth with which she washed the blood off of the boy's face. Bonnie's hands unconciously landed on Y/n's waist, putting a blush on the girl's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't- I don't know how it happened-" Bonnie apologized awkwardly when he realized, immediately taking his hands away. Now he was also blushing.

Despite dating for a while, it was the point of intimacy they haven't reached before. Especially not in a public place. Not like they cared if others see that, but it just didn't feel... natural for them. They were taking things slow.

"It's okay," Y/n assured, "you're my boyfriend, Bonnie, you're allowed to touch me." A giggle escaped her mouth.

"Oh, yeah?" Bonnie smirked playfully. "Then I assume I'm also allowed to do this." His hands were suddenly under Y/n's thighs and he stood up, picking her up.

Y/n laughed. She dropped the cloth on the floor as her arms went around Bonnie's neck, helping her not fall down. They kissed and both smiled through the kiss.

Suddenly, they heard someone clearing his throat. It made them stop what they were doing, Bonnie put Y/n back on the ground. They turned to face the person who interrupted them.

"Finn?" Y/n asked surprised to see her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"How long have you been standing here?" Her boyfriend added.

Finn looked at Bonnie with an angry stare, "long enough," then shifted his eyes to Y/n. "Tommy sent me."

Bonnie spoke before Y/n could open her mouth again. "Why wouldn't Mr. Shelby come here himself?"

"Because it's not about you, it's about her." Finn walked up closer to the couple. He gave Bonnie another hateful look. "'Besides I wasn't talking to you, was I?"

"And what could Tommy possibly want from me at," Y/n looked at the clock nearby, "seven in the evening?"

"Exactly, it's seven in the evening. Your father gave Tommy a call, asking him to ask me to walk you home."

"How did my dad know I'm here? You didn't tell him, did you?"

Y/f/n wouldn't expect her to be at the gym, because he didn't know she was dating Bonnie. He thought they were just good friends, like she was with the Shelby boys or Polly's son. Y/n didn't want her dad to find out she's dating Bonnie.

"We're covering for you... as always for the past few weeks." He really put an emphasis on that. "Tommy told him you were in the stables by Charlie's yard. Taking care of the horses."

"Thanks. I promise I'll tell him, but not yet. It's not the right time."

"Alright, sure," Finn didn't believe her, "let's go already, shall we?"

"No worries," Bonnie gave Finn a pat on the back, "I can walk her. I was going to anyway, you didn't have to bother yourself coming here."

Bonnie smiled kindly at Finn, he didn't quite realize that the youngest Shelby brother dislikes him. He's been acting like this since Bonnie had met him, so he thought that's just the way he is. He had no idea it's because of Y/n. Because of how quickly Bonnie stole Y/n's heart.

"Don't put your fuckin' hands on me," Finn pushed Bonnie away from himself, "unless you wanna fuckin' fight."

"Relax, we can spar sometime. When do you have time?"

"Even right now. Right here. Or we can go out, do it in the street. I don't care."

"Jesus, Finn! No fuckin' fighting." Y/n scolded her lifelong friend. "What happened to you? Did Arthur start giving you cocaine?" Met with silence on Finn's side, Y/n continued. "Alright, I guess it'll be me walking you home."

"And who's gonna walk you after you walk him?" Bonnie asked. "Remember about the vendetta. Your father helps Mr. Shelby, the Italians are after you also."

"I'm not a baby. You need to rest, it's a good idea I walk with Finn. Besides, we live close to each other."

Bonnie hesitated for a moment, but then agreed. "Okay. But I'll see you tomorrow morning, alright, love?"

"Alright, golden boy." With a smile on her face, Y/n gave her boyfriend a kiss that lasted a bit longer than she intended.

Finn cleared his throat again. "You'll see each other tomorrow, no need to be eating each other's faces."

Y/n said her final goodbye of the day to her boyfriend and then walked outside with her friend. Giving him a friendly bump to the arm, she asked, "Why have you been so stiff lately, Finn?"

The girl laughed, but her friend didn't seem to be in the right mood for jokes. He took a cigarette and put it between his lips, then lit it up.

"Why don't you see it?" Smoke left his mouth as he spoke.

"Why don't I see what?" Y/n was in a mood too good to notice there was something wrong with Finn. She hadn't noticed anything for the past few weeks.

He was disappointed. "Nothing..."

Finn took such a big inhale from his cigarette, that it made him choke and cough. The girl patted him on the back with a friendly laughter. As Finn fixed his posture and coughed for one last time, he offered his friend the cigarette.

"No, thank you." She refused. "I've stopped smoking 'cause Bonnie says-"

"This is what I'm talking about. Now you see what I meant? Bonnie does this, Bonnie says that. Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. And where is there space for me?"

The words shoot out of Finn's mouth like bullets from a gun. He would never target Y/n with a real gun, but these bullets were meant to get into her brain. And maybe, hopefully, shoot some sense into it.

"Bonnie is my boyfriend, Finn, you can't blame me for hanging out with him or supporting him in his path."

"Do you hear yourself, Y/n?" The boy slightly raised his voice. "We've known him for the same amount of time, which is few weeks, and you speak of him like he's your husband."

"Don't raise your voice at me, Finn Shelby. We've known Bonnie for the same amount of time, yet you've always treated him like he's one of the Changrettas."

"Don't tell me when I can or cannot raise me voice. Are you surprised I treat him like this?!"

"Yeah, I am! He's on our side, Finn! You didn't even give him a chance!"

"No, I really mean, are you surpised?" He put emphasis on the last part of the question. "Lately you've been all over him! You barely spend time with me anymore."

"Once again, he's my boyfriend!"

"After a few weeks he's your boyfriend, huh? You've known me your whole life, but have you ever thought of me this way?"

Y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn't know what to say. Finn's eyes were piercing her. After a few seconds, she finally spoke. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you've heard. How can you have feelings for someone you've known few weeks, meanwhile you've known me your whole life!"

"Excuse me? Have you ever put any effort into actually telling me you like me more than a friend?! Of course besides trying to make me jealous by flirting with other girls in front of me..."

Now Finn was the speechless one. She was right, he did all this just to make her jealous. How would she know? And why didn't it work, why didn't it make her fall in love with him? Isaiah said girls love men who hit on many women. He said the more jealous you make her feel, the more she wants you.

"That's right, Finn," Y/n continued, "I knew you're doing it on purpose."

"So..." Finn wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. He felt lost in his own thoughts. "Does it mean you're using the same technique on me? With Bonnie?"

"Please," Y/n scoffed, "I had feelings for you, I truly did. But I lost them, 'cause you were messing around with others. Bonnie doesn't make me feel like I have to compete with other girls."

Finn wanted to say something. Perhaps apologize, but it was too late for this. Nothing was Bonnie's fault, he didn't do anything. If Finn wasn't so stupid and didn't listen to Isaiah's advice, him and Y/n could've been something more by now.

They never stopped walking, so now they were almost by the door of Finn's home. By the time he found any words, they have reached the door.

"What now?" The boy asked, making Y/n scoff again.

"How about we keep things how they were before this conversation, except from now on you will tolerate my boyfriend and be nice to him?"

"But he-"

"No, I don't even wanna hear it. It were you and your actions that made me lose any romantic interest I had in you, Finn."

"That's not fair!"

"That's what you get for listening to Isaiah instead of using your own brain. Seems very fair to me."

Suddenly, the door of the flat opened and they saw Polly. She looked at them and raised her eyebrows. "Why are you chit-chatting outside? Come in, I'll make you some tea."

Y/n sent the woman a kind look. "Thank you, Mrs. Gray, but I was just about to go home. Actually, my dad called Tommy and Tommy told Finn to go get me, 'cause it was so late and-" She started babbling. It felt so weird to say no to tea offered by Polly, but Y/n stayed as polite as she could.

"No worries, Y/n," the woman smiled, "where were you so late in the evening?

Polly was curious, but she didn't want to pressure Y/n into answering. And Y/n didn't want to give her the honest answer. She knew what Polly thought of the Golds. Even if they were now working with them, Polly, and a few others, still saw them as savages.

"I was at the stables," Y/n said according to the excuse Finn told her.

"Yes, she was..." Finn added to purposely make her excuse sound less believable.

There wasn't a thing you could hide from Polly Gray. Even without what Finn said, she knew Y/n wasn't telling her the truth. She could sense it.

"Alright, you should head home then. You must be very tired." But who was she to force Y/n to spit out the truth? The girl had her own family to lie to. Whether they found out, was not Polly's business nor problem, as long as Y/n was safe. And the woman knew she was.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Gray, I'd love to come for tea another time," Y/n gave Polly one of her nicest smiles, "bye, Finn," and a pretty much emotionless bye to Finn.

Polly and Finn watched Y/n walk away. She did live nearby, a few flats away and was home in seconds.

"Whatever you've done to her, Finn, I hope you apologized. Or plan to do it."

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. li - monopoly

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

wc : 1.5 k

buy me coffee ?

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring Mingi into a dark alley even though you and Jongho were also there with him. You began chastising yourself internally for not bringing Yunho instead because surely, despite not knowing anything about Yeosang or his belongings, Yunho wouldn't make as much noise or distraction.

From the get-go, Mingi had hurled defences to his manliness, explaining how it was not the dark that he was afraid of, it was just the prospect of someone targeting Yeosang and now that they're back at the scene of the "crime", the "criminal" might be lurking about, ready to get rid of them. The residual police tape didn't help his case though as the moment the flimsy material brushed up against his leg, he freaked out and ran out of the alley.

"You guys, come on, we didn't find anything!" Mingi whisper-yelled from the entrance of the alley. You rolled your eyes at Mingi, ignoring him as you continued shining your phone's light on the ground, whereas Jongho sighed and called out to Mingi without faltering in the same task he was doing, "Hyung, if you're that much of a coward, you can just... I don't know, go into the convenience store or something?" "But how would you guys know if you found anything? You don't know what you're even looking for!" Mingi huffed but his voice got louder which indicated that he had returned into the alley. "Well, we'll just have to find something first, Mingi. From the looks of it, I'm not confident that the police hadn't bagged anything miscellaneous for evidence or worst case scenario, they just throw his crap as trash," you sighed, feeling a sense of negativity the more you talked about the possibilty.

The three of you stopped at one spot, a spot that had a faded mark and a spot that made you swallow the lump that was building in your throat. "Is that..." Jongho started, eyeing you and Mingi carefully, knowing that it was a rather touchy question. Thankfully, Mingi nodded and answered him before you had to, "Yeah, that's where they found Yeosang unconscious. The last place he was alive and well," Mingi sighed. Hearing that, you turned around and held your head high and not just because Mingi was a behemoth of a man, but because you were psyching your brain into being positive, "I don't know what you're talking about because Kang Yeosang is well, conscious, and alive, and he's in his computer like a little virus we can't get rid off so he's perfectly fine until we get him back to his body," your voice quivered slightly but your confidence was well noticed by your two friends.

Nodding firmly, Mingi exhaled sharply at you, "You're right, Yeosang is perfectly fine and all we have to do is find out the missing information, clear your name, and slap his face so he'll return to his body!"

"Well, as much as I'd like to be pumped about the prospect of slapping a comatose man, I don't think there's anything in this alley other than roaches and rats," Jongho shuddered, "Maybe we can ask around? I saw a lady selling tteokbokki nearby so she probably saw something." His suggestion made a lot of sense to you and Mingi so it was a no-brainer that you agreed immediately. "But hey, can we go to the convenience store first? I gotta pee," Mingi grinned. Seeing the chance to poke fun at his older friend, Jongho placed an arm on Mingi's shoulder and pat him twice, "I'm surprised you haven't soiled your pants just yet, hyung," he said equally as casuall which made you cackle as the two of you walked out of the alley, Mingi trailing behind the two of you as he retaliated by throwing his own insults at Jongho. It was unfortunate that Jongho didn't seem to care.

While Mingi went to relieve himself, you and Jongho decided to pick up some drinks and snacks for later when you go home considering you still had to go through discussion and brainstorming with the boys. On top of that, it's a transactional gesture because Mingi came in to use the facilities.

As Jongho placed the basket on the counter, you were surprised that the cashier suddenly clapped his hands before he pointed at you, "Hey, you're she!" he called out almost excitedly. "I'm sorry?" you asked, confused, "You're her! I remember you!" he said before he ducked down under the counter. "Do you know this guy?" Jongho asked, both confused and curious at the man's seeming recognition of you. "I don't know this guy, I swear," though you were sure that you didn't know him, you still tried to think of where you might have known him. "Do you have an online persona I don't know of?" Jongho half joked half genuinely asked which you answered by smacking him on his chest (that did absolutely nothing) and grumbled, "If you're asking if I secretly do porn, Jongho, I will hand you over to my cousin and make you do Cats in an actual cat costume," you threatened and Jongho only replied by mocking you which meant that he truly believed your threats and that your cousin would have no problem with executing the idea.

The man came back up just as Mingi jogged to join you and Jongho, placing a phone charger on the counter which only caused your confusion to double. "What's this?" you asked and Mingi answered, "Do you really not know what a phone charger is?" "Not only is it a charger, it's your charger!" the cashier said, grinning proudly. By the look on your face, the cashier's smile dropped and he tilted his head in confusion, "You don't remember?" "I... I mean, I did lose my charger a while ago but I don't think this is mine," you said sheepishly. The cashier shook his head firmly and pointed at the charger, "No, I remember this is yours because I was working the shift when you came in rushing because your phone died and you needed to charge it so you could open your online banking app. You sat at that corner and you kept muttering about not wanting someone to be right?" recognition dawned on your face but still, you couldn't really place the memory. Seeing you, Jongho stepped in and questioned the man, "How sure are you that it was her? I mean, that could be anyone, right?" The cashier shook his head immediately, "No, no, no, I remember you clearly because that was the night when that guy got electrocuted after arguing with some other guy, I overheard them when I was taking a smoke break and then the convenience store blacked out for a solid 3 minutes and I absolutely remembered everything correctly because that was the day I learned about turning on the generator and also because the cops came in after finding the guy in the alley, asking if I knew anything," he said proudly.

Your eyes widened as saucers and your jaw slacked. It was as if someone broke a damn in your brain and memories of the night you had gone out by yourself flooded your brain. "Oh my God," you whispered, remembering how you rushed into the convenience store because you desperately needed to charge your phone and you remembered the blackout. You had initially wanted to leave to go find another functional port at the cafe just on the other side of the alley but when the generator turned on, you decided to stay only for an extra 15 minutes because as soon as your phone hit 30%, you rushed home to avoid getting scolded by Leo. But it wasn't the memory that rendered you frozen.

"(y/n), what is it? Are you okay?" Mingi asked, worriedly pulling you to the side as Jongho finished up with the cashier. "I... Yeosang... He, he was electrocuted in the alley where the powerline is connected to this side of the building. I think... I think when he got electrocuted, he got sucked into my phone because I was charging in the port that bordered this convenience store and the alley," you muttered, putting information together that finally made sense in your head. Then, you looked up at him with your eyes glassy, pupils shaky as the information overloaded your brain, "Mingi, I was here the night Yeosang got hurt, I was on the other side of the wall when it happened. I could have helped him, I could've found out what happened to him exactly and I could've probably found out who hurt him but I didn't Mingi, I was here but I didn't do anything." It was obvious that you felt guilty but Mingi knew that there was absolutely nothing you could have done. So he pulled you into his arms and just comforted you, he rubbed your back as your fingers tighten around his shirt, calming you down and repeatedly telling you that you could not have known and that you shouldn't blame yourself.

But what else could you think? Another thing happened to Yeosang and you were right there, powerless and hopeless. Just like what happened in the past.

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