#(ooc; he just Kept Fucking Talking damn)

[al3x-just-v1b1ng]

Should I feel bad for you, robot LARPer? So obsessed with your tea drinking and beep booping that you don't even know Barry Employment's real name? GODDD, You are so pathetic. Frankly you're making Unjust look impressive.

And you're being so dramatic over it too! Nobody cares! What, you gonna go take too many pills and manically paint someone's nails for them until they cry? Honestly, that incident was probably more dignified than whatever little panic fit you have going on right now. For OG's sake...

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[he pauses at the implication of The Vibings Incident™️.]

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[sameschmidtdiffname]

Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

-

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

[vampire-matcha]

Part 4 of cheating!Soap. Simon's POV. Angst. Potentially ooc Simon.

---

Simon Riley is a bad man. He wasn't given much of a choice really. He was dealt a bad hand that kept getting worse and worse. He tried to live a good life, despite his childhood, but it was all taken away from him in fire and blood. So he threw himself into it headfirst. He dove into it and found comfort in the fire and blood. He knew fire and blood. He's good at fire and blood.

Simon Riley is a lonely man. All his life, he's never had anyone. He keeps everyone he meets at arms-length at a minimum. He doesn't do love. He doesn't believe in it. The last time he tasted it was from his mother, and that taste has long since been replaced by the tinny taste of blood. He's comfortable being alone. He fills his time with work, and on the rare occasion he's sent back home to his barren flat in Manchester, the most he does is find a quick fuck at a pub.

He doesn't care about their names, he doesn't particularly care if they're a man or woman or something in between. He doesn't care what they look like, he hardly looks at them at all. They're just a means to an end for him. Just a warm hole to stuff himself into to feel good for a bit, to make his head quiet for a bit. He leaves once he's done. He never stays the night, never even stays much longer than to tie off his condom and pull his trousers back up.

It all changed when he met that damned spitfire of a man John MacTavish. Goes by the name 'Soap'. A ridiculous nickname in Simon's opinion, but then again, he goes by Ghost, so he doesn't have much room to talk.

Soap is loud and brash, but he can be careful and focused, too. He's intensely loyal and has a deep sense of justice. He fights for what's right, Ghost has seen it. He makes the icy shell around Ghost's heart melt, ever so slightly.

It's a slow progression, the way Soap draws Ghost into his orbit. Ghost doesn't even fully realize its happened until Las Almas. There was a moment when he thought he lost Johnny- when did Soap become Johnny? They had gotten separated and Ghost waited for him. Ghost never waited. But he couldn't, in that moment, hiding out in a church with a whole militia after him, even fathom leaving Johnny behind.

By the time Simon realized he loved Johnny it was too late. Johnny was married. Simon hadn't noticed that when he read Soap's dossier years ago. It must have happened in the time they had known each other. Simon had never pinned Johnny as someone to keep his cards so close to his chest like that, but he was proved wrong.

Johnny didn't wear his ring in the field. It was a liability, not just to have jewelry on in life-or-death situations, but also for anyone to see he was married, be it friend or foe. He didn't find out until after Chicago. It seemed that Soap's near-death experience at the top of a skyscraper had shaken him more than he'd let on. He'd snuck off at the bar to use the payphone and Ghost had followed.

"Hey, its me... Just needed to hear your voice, bonnie... No, no, I'm alright, just a wee bit banged up... Yeah, I miss you too, lovie... No I promise I'm alright. Just got a bit worried the whole 'til death do us part' thing was comin' sooner than expected... Sorry, bonnie... No, no, you're right, it's not funny. I'm sorry... I'll be home in a few days... Yeah... I'll see you then. I love you."

Simon hated you. He hated you and he didn't even know you. He didn't even know you existed and he hated you. Who were you? Some civilian? Some random woman who decided to shack up with Johnny? Probably just chasing valor or benefits or something. What could you possibly have to offer someone like Johnny? You could never understand him the way Simon does. Their bond is forged in fire and blood. You could never hope to understand it. They'd been through hell together. And yet you've wormed your way in between them. You, a woman he doesn't even know, have ruined everything. But Simon, ever the stoic sentinel, keeps it all under wraps with practiced patience. He didn't survive this long by letting his emotions control him. He'll figure out a way to fix this.

Then several months later, Simon meets you. It's after another mission, and you're picking up Soap from base, who had gotten a mild concussion and couldn't drive himself. You're there, waiting for him with a lovesick smile on your face. Simon watches as you embrace Johnny, wrapping him in your arms and holding him for a long time. Too long, in Simon's opinion. And then you pull back and hold Soap's head in your hands, turning his face side to side to get a better look at him. You laugh at something he says. Simon sneers. Oh, aren't you just perfect? A sweet little doting wife?

And then Johnny brings you over to introduce you two. You shake Simon's hand with both of yours, gratitude broadcast to the world as you thank him for getting your Johnny home safe. Your Johnny. Simon hates it. He hates how sincere you are. He wishes you were something worse, something worth hating. But Ghost reads people. He's great at it. But he can't read anything but genuine in you. And it makes him hate you more.

It isn't fair, Simon thinks. You don't deserve someone like Johnny. You haven't earned him. You haven't fought for him like Simon has. You haven't fought alongside him like Simon has. Simon has suffered. His whole life has been nothing but blood and fire. Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Hasn't he earned it? Even the devil himself got to taste heaven before he fell to earth.

That's what he tells himself on that night. The night they were stuck in that frozen safe house in the middle of Bumfuck, Russia. They'd narrowly escaped the enemy, and they didn't dare poke their heads out for risk of being spotted. Soap's radio had broken in the escape. Ghost was the only one with a means to communicate with Watcher. She tells him exfil will be there in the morning. He unplugs his radio. He tells Soap he can't get through. He tells himself that he's justified. He's a devil seeking a taste of heaven.

And what is Johnny if not heaven? Simon needs him. He needs to taste him. Johnny is worried. Simon can feel it rolling off him in waves. Simon can make it all better for him. Just for tonight.

"Who knows when exfil's gonna get here?" He asks. "What do we have to lose? It's just for tonight. Just let me take care of you, Johnny."

Simon can feel the hesitation in Johnny's body when he kisses him. But Johnny let's Simon lay him down. Simon whispers words into Johnny's ear. Not quite words of reassurance. But Simon Riley is a bad man, and a lonely man, and those two things make a nasty combination.

Simon tastes every part of Johnny's body he can get his mouth on. Neither man has bathed in days, and a lesser man would be disgusted, but Simon has experienced far worse. Besides, nothing about Johnny could ever disgust him.

And when Johnny let's him inside, Simon, that devil, finally tastes his slice of heaven. A whole life of suffering was worth is just to feel Johnny beneath him. It's perfect, he thinks. Even if only for the night. Simon looks Johnny in the eye. Simon stays with him afterward. Simon sleeps beside him.

Then morning comes. Exfil comes. Regret comes for Johnny, but not for Simon. Maybe he shouldn't had lied about his radio, but it was worth it, wasn't it? But now Johnny won't look at him. He won't speak to him. He practically runs from him when they land.

No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to fix things! It was supposed to fix what you had ruined! You, Soap's perfect wife with your perfect life, perfectly ruining Simon's. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon more. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon as much as Simon needed him. What happened? What went wrong? Simon blames you. He always blames you.

Simon calls Johnny late that night, after he's sure you must be in bed. He pleads with Johnny to come to his senses. It wasn't a mistake! How could he say that? How could he say that it was wrong when Simon had never felt so right in his whole life? It's your fault. You've got Johnny trapped under some kind of spell. You can't love him like Simon could, like Simon does. Simon changes tactics.

"You have to tell her," Simon tells him. Maybe if you know, you'll leave. Then Simon can have Johnny all to himself, without you getting in the way again. "The guilt will eat you up, it's better if you just tell her. Its the right thing to do." Johnny reluctantly agrees.

Simon waits for Johnny to call him the next night, to tell him you've kicked him out. He waits for the call so he can swoop in and be Johnny's rescuer. Maybe then Johnny will see how much he loves him. But Johnny never calls. Simon would be tearing his hair out with anxiety if it wasn't so close-cropped to his head. What's happened to him? He hasn't lost control of his emotions like this in years. What have you done to him?

Simon drives to Johnny's house. He watches from the curb through your window. Johnny's alone. Good. He has half a mind to walk up to the door when he sees you come around the corner. He watches you two talk. He watches you cry. Crocodile tears, they must be! Poor you, having your perfect life be derailed. Simon was justified. It's only fair that you suffer even a fraction that he has so he can take some of your perfect life for his own.

But then Johnny is holding you. Johnny is kissing you. No, no this isn't right! You should be screaming at him to leave! You should be beating Soap to a pulp so Simon can put him back together! Why won't you let him have this?

He watches Johnny carry you away. He forces himself to drive away before he does something he'll regret. He speeds the whole way home. He turns his apartment upside-down. In the back of his mind he's thankful he lives in a shit part of town where no one calls the cops unless someone is actually dead. No noise complaints as he shatters every mirror.

It's your fault he's losing control. You you would just let him have Johnny, it would all be fine. But you, you selfish bitch, want to keep Johnny all to yourself. Why? Because you've got a ring? Because you made a vow? Well, Simon makes a vow to himself. No matter how long it takes, he will make Johnny his.

[akiraruru]

Call

Included: cyno, ayato, tighnari, zhongli, diluc, scaramouche/wanderer, Xiao, Aether, Kaeya, gn! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: In which they had to take a call while balls deep into you.

Content warning/s!: use of the word slut like once or twice, light spanking, degradation, praise?, modern au, lmk if I missed any.

Not proofread, possible ooc.

They picked up their phone to see who was calling and soon accepted it. You whined when they said they had to take the call, they just had to take the call. It's important! You had to muffle your moans and cries by biting into the pillow or burying your face onto it since he asked you to because he didn't want the other person to hear you :( He kept pounding into your poor little hole as he talked with the person on the other side; acting as if he isn't pounding into your tight hole. After the call ends you finally get to let go of the pillow and finally get to moan freely.

"You've been pretty quiet the whole call didn't you? Hm? How about a reward for being so obedient for me, you would like that wouldn't you. Of course you would" He says as he spanks your ass but then rubs his hand gently over the soft flesh to soothe it.

KAEYA, AYATO, Diluc(?), Zhongli(?), Aether

They heard their phone ring on the bedside table, they looked on the phone on who it is and saw an important person calling. They pushed your head into the pillow you were currently holding tightly on due to how hard they were being with you.

"Now, I want you to be an obedient little slut for me and keep fucking quiet. Okay?" They said in an almost mocking tone as they clicked the green button to accept the call, you were trying so hard not to be too loud while he kept pounding into you. How could you keep quiet when he was making you feel so good? Why did they just have to take the damn call :( You were trying so hard to be a good little slut for him. After he ended the call he pulled your hair then whispered "You weren't too loud but you weren't quiet either, do you know how loud you were? Even when your head was already pushed against the pillow. You just can't keep it down huh" they said as they snaked their hand up to grip at your neck.

CYNO, Childe/Ajax/tartaglia, Xiao, Tighnari(?) , SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER

Follows, likes, reblogs, and any feedback are greatly appreciated!

[chuuyasheaven]

5th day with chuuya?? I need more jealous chuuya content

"I’m gonna fuck you up, fuck you until you ask me for more.." - Hands up! by 6arelyhuman !!

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara / afab! Reader, PM! Reader, jealous! Chuuya, jealous sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, pet names, degrading / praising kink, slight choking, teasing, hickeys, fingering, soft to rough! Chuuya, ooc?, smudged makeup, overstim, might contain grammar errors, rushed, quite long lol, etc.

Notes: SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW; first of all, my asshole of a father took my damn phone, so i have to write on the computer now.(until I get it back). Also depression has been kicking me in my gut!! Anyway, enough abt me and let's carry on!! HOPE YOU ENJOY MWAH !!;:)

Update(two days later): THIS SHI BE LONG ASF BUT IDC ENJOY THIS FILTH RAHHH‼️

You put on one of your most expensive dresses on for this mission. Your make up was perfectly done too, and all this not even for him!

Just because you had to seduce the target to get them killed, still, this was just unfair to Chuuya..

"Hey, pretty,", you heard comming from behind you, assuming it was the victim to be. When you turned around, you were right. The target was hitting on you, infront of Chuuya too, just like you planed.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with a seductive tone, the target smiled at you, completely ignoring Chuuya. “Yes, you could, by coming home with me, sweetheart.”, you couldn’t wait until taking his life, this was getting annoying.

“I would love to, handsome.”, you responded, cringing at your own response. You weren’t enjoying this, this felt so wrong, but you clearly weren’t the only one thought that.

As you took a quick side glance, you noticed how Chuuya was giving him the death stares. You played it off as if it was nothing, then you felt how the target put their hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, we couldn’t miss the fun now, could we?”, you didn’t want to say anything, so you just left with him. Chuuya followed without you knowing though.

When the Victim entered his car, while closing his door. You got ready to shoot him dead on the spot, but Chuuya did so before you even got the chance.

As the target laid there dead in the car, you closed the door and Chuuya brought you home on his motorcycle, not even saying a word to you.

At home, you walked into your room, not noticing Chuuya again. Sitting down onto your shared bed, you just let out a sigh. 

Suddenly, he came through the door unannounced. This startled you a little bit, but he just stood there. Feeling confused, you decided to ask him why he was acting this way.

“Look, sweetheart, I know this mission was really weird and all, but-,”, you got interrupted by Chuuya grabbing your arm slightly harsh. He pulled you up rather quickly and pressed you up against him. “What a-are you doing?-”, again you were interrupted by him.

This time, it was by a kiss, a kiss so gentle but yet possessive. It truly caught you off guard, but you didn't complain, he kept on kissing you.

Chuuya pulled away shortly, then kissed you again, harder this time, with more hunger and lust. While he was kissing you, he kept on walking towards the wall until he cornered you there.

Chuuya pulled away again, looking deep into your eyes. “I couldn't wait to finish off that bastard, i can't stand when someone takes something that's mine.”, he growled into your ear. “Guess I'll have to mark you up tonight..”, he added on, you looked away from that remark, knowing what he was talking about.

You felt your face being positioned back to look at him, Chuuya was grabbing your chin, as you looked at him you could see him smirking. “Unless you don't want me to, i won't force ya, darling,”, Chuuya said, hinting for you to whether consent or not.

Nodding 'yes' as an answer, Chuuya looked at you, like a hunter would look at it's prey. “Good, 'cause i won't be going easy at it either.”, he warned, hinting what he was about to do.

He went back to kissing you, his hands held you by your waist. You melted into the kiss, letting go once again, Chuuya licked his lips. “Be good for me, will you, princess?”, you nodded again.

“Good girl.”, Chuuya said before he went down on your neck, kissing down his way to your collarbone. You let out quiet but soft whimpers, which got him to smirk against your skin.

“Sensitive, huh?”, Chuuya slightly teased as his knee made it’s way between your thighs. As he gently removed the straps of your dress, he pulled it down until it reached your stomach, revealing your favorite bra.

Chuuya kissed his way to your nipples, sucking on them lightly. Your whimpers got louder, knowing your super sensitive there. When he was done with that, he patted on your thighs, you knew what he meant.

You jumped up for him, he caught you mid-air and held you by his waist, his grip was firm so you wouldn’t fall.

Now he was kissing your lips again, smudging your lipstick. Chuuya turned around and carried you back to bed, placing you there. Your arms still clung around his neck while he was topping you.

Separating yourselves from the kiss, Chuuya smirked at you while he ripped off your dress. “C-chuuya, this was-”, “I know, baby, I’ll buy you plenty more of ‘em, promise..”, he promised you.

The ripped dress hit the floor, now you were in black laced panties under him, and he was enjoying the view. Chuuya was still in his clothes, even his gloves, the same gloves which were pushing your panties to the side to finger you.

His fingers were inside of your cunt, making you feel good. Since you were wet anyway, he already got slick on his gloves. “Look at how wet you’re for me, slut.”, Chuuya said to you.

You felt your first release near, as his fingers were buried deep inside you, every spot was reached almost perfectly. When your knot snapped, you tried to warn him, but failed. Chuuya pulled out his fingers, looking at the mix of slick and cum stained on his black gloves. “Now you got my gloves dirty..but that’s okay,”, Chuuya claimed while licking some of it. “You taste so fuckin’ good, so I’ll let it slide.”, you looked at him as he removed your panties completely. You got desperate now, you wanted his cock to replace the emptiness inside your pussy, and he clearly knew because you were dripping slick again.

“Oh? Wet again, darling?”, you looked away in embarrassment and desperation, suddenly Chuuya was hovering over you again, grabbing your chin. Giving your lips a quick peck while smirking at you, you talked again.

“Chuuya. P-please..”, you said quietly. “Please what? Speak up f’me, princess..”, Chuuya asked in a mockingly tone. “Need you so bad, p-please,”, you slurred at him, Chuuya could feel his cock harden up at this. “Really? How bad do you want it?”, he denied you even longer.

“S’bad, I need you so fucking bad, please.,”, you paused for a few seconds, “I need your dick inside me, need you to fuck me, Chuuya..”, you begged, now he couldn’t eventually deny you any longer, he needed you now.

Chuuya looked satisfied with this, he slightly aggressively removed his pelt and freed himself from his pants and boxers. “Such a needy whore, hm?”He gave his cock a few small rubs and pushed it past your walls.

You slightly tense up at the feeling, but pleasure followed after. Chuuya then thrusted into you with force, rough and desperate, he was finally fucking you!

You grip the sheets, his skin clapping against yours, huffs and moans were heard from you. His dick reached all the right places, when Chuuya held your legs up to his waist, you could feel him even deeper inside. “F-fuck,”, he cursed under his breath, “You’re suckin’ me in, tell me, who’s fuckin’ you this good?”, Chuuya asked while he waited your response. “Y-you, Chuuya. Nobody else, j-just you- ah!”, you almost shouted when his tip hit your sweet spot.

“Good girl, seems like I found your special spot, right?”, Chuuya asked in a teasing tone, as he hit that spot repeatedly now. You nodded, he chuckled. Your orgasm started to build up again. The urge to cum was big, to you and Chuuya, at this point he started to grunt by every thrust. Deciding to add more pleasure, he started to draw lazy circles on your clit, now your grip on the sheets got more firm.

Chuuya’s thrusts got more sloppier and messy but were still rough, the overstimulation becoming too much for you, your knot snapped faster. Your sweet release washed over you.

After you, Chuuya came right inside you, filling you up. It felt like a lot, and it probably was, or it wouldn’t be spilling out slightly past Chuuya’s cock. Actually, why hasn’t he pulled out yet?

“—Well, seems like I’ll be needing to fill you again, princess. You might need to take a day off because you won’t be walking tomorrow..I will make sure of it.”

That’s very hot of you, Chuuya.. meow. ;3

IMPORTANT NOTE: I might need to pause this event because I’m traveling with my family! So I’ll be able to post like 2-3 fics before I go! Sorry that it came so sudden, but I promise I’ll be very productive after!! Until then, bye pookies!!

[aakariiiii]

I kept tellin’ her to piss off ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

features: Draken x fem!reader

contains: Draken and reader are arguing in front of all toman members

a/n: yaaayayy my 3rd story since i’ve gotten back!!!! uts draken this time since iys been a while since i’ve written a fic ab him (mostly cuz last time was bad n i keep making him ooc n its so annoying ugh) but yeah i hope u guys enjoy this and i hope i see some requests in my inbox soon!!!!.!.!

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a fighting with my boyfriend during a Toman meeting. Never.

So why is it that we are currently yelling at each other, caught in a storm of emotions, while hundreds of eyes glare at both our faces?

“Well, you started it, Ken,” I argue, my body filled with heat as anger curled inside of my guts, burning. Or maybe it’s sadness, because the sight of her arm hooked around his stung, a pang of hurt I couldn’t shake.

“Haa? Are you fucking serious right now? I started it? Entertain me, dumbass,” he yells bewilderingly as a bulging vein appears out of his forehead.

“You know damn well what you did,” I whisper as my emotions threatened to spill over, but I fought to keep them at bay.

Whispers and piercing gazes felt like relentless spotlights, each adding weight to the already burdened air. To make it worse, being surrounded by an audience with menacing curiosity felt suffocating.

A chilly whisper of the passing wind delicately teased my senses, I found solace in its fleeting touch. I could feel Draken’s unbearable yet contradictingly reassuring presence creep up near me. A callous but soft grip embraced my wrist and pulled me out and away from the intrusive crowd, pumping a sense of relief within me. The hushed whispers and murmurs faded away into nothingness as Draken pulled me further away.

As if a thousand feathers took flight from my shoulders, carrying with them the burden that had settled there, I had felt much more comforted.

So why is it that unbidden tears raced down my cheeks, tracing an unexpected river of emotion, painting the canvas of my face with the silent tales my heart refused to voice. The tails that would carve unwanted scars from the truth unveiling within Draken’s awaited words.

Surely, he didn’t cheat right? is what I’d like to tell myself but his arm hooked around hers tells me otherwise.

A despondent sob escaped my mouth shattering the fragile silence as my feet came to a halt, and his grip released my pale wrist.

“Y/n, look at me,” he breathed, his voice tangled with a mess of melancholy.

I shake my head as my sobs continue to dash out of my mouth and my hands involuntarily start rubbing at the tears cascading down my cheeks.

But then I feel the touch of his benignly crude fingers tilt my chin so that his eyes can meet mine. His eyes, black as night, contrarily exuded a soothing presence, urging trust with their serene and comforting gaze.

“Y/n—I swear it’s ain’t what you think. I’d never cheat on you, dumbass. Promise—she was buggin’ me the whole day and I kept tellin’ her to piss off. I was so ready to punch the hell outta her tell I reminded myself that she’s a woman—I swear. I have never talked to her after that day, y/n. You gotta trust me, because both you ‘nd I know that I’m not the typa person to do that kinda shit,” he exhaled, arms falling down to my waist.

I didn’t know how to react, deep within me, I knew Draken would never do that to me. He’d never do that, so why did I not go and ask him about it instead of pulling the shitty move I did by going around his team members and sparking up unwanted conversations with them, while Draken was watching me. He must have felt awful.

I curse at myself as I bring my head to his solid, toned chest, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“I’m so—so sorry, Ken,” I sniffled.

“I do trust you—I just didn’t know how to react after I saw her arm wrapped around yours—I’m so sorry for trying to get back at you the way I did earlier,” I mumble in a muffled matter as my head is buried into his chest.

“I didn’t know you get easily jealous, babe” a teasing chuckle echoed through Draken’s body as he ruffled my hair.

“Oh, shut it! Of course I’d get jealous over you!”

“Of course I’d get jealous when I like you this much,” I mumble, flustered as heat spread into the apples of my cheek.

And with that, he broke our warm embrace to pull me into a kiss that blazed with the fervor of our shared affection, each touch a spark igniting an inferno of love between us.

“I’m joking, babe. I love you so much” he said while pulling away.

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.

[sherewrytes]

ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇꜱ- SAME OLD SONG {CHAPTER TWO}

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

summary. You and Toji were broken up for 8 months+. Your constant pressure for him to improve led to frequent fights, driving him to spend more time at the mechanic shop and racing than with you. Despite knowing you meant well, the strain became too much, and Toji eventually ended the relationship.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

series masterlist

chapter one

chapter three (coming soon)

Toji's POV It had been eight months since you walked out of his life, leaving a void that Toji filled with work and the thrill of street racing. Seeing you in front the mechanic shop today, staring at him with those eyes he used to know so well, had him twisted up emotionally. He

He clenched his jaw, trying to clear his mind of you while looking around the mechanic shop for some form of distraction from his racing thoughts. A surge of anger mixed with an all-too-familiar ache in his chest he fished his cigarettes out of his pocket.

You had always pushed him, never letting him grow at his own pace, always demanding more. He understood where you were coming from, but your impatience had suffocated him. Now, seeing you again, it felt like a slap in the face, a reminder of the life he had almost lost himself in trying to keep up with your expectations.

Toji, staring blankly into space, cigarette slowly burning out and dangling from his mouth was lost in thought.

"Yo, Toji, you good?" Sukuna's voice broke through his thoughts.

Toji shook his head, startled by the jolt out of his long lost thoughts but not wanting to discuss it. "I'm fine," he muttered, though he knew Sukuna could see right through him.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He was good like that, knowing when to back off. "Alright, man. Just let me know if you need anything." Toji knew it wasn't good to bottle up his emotions like this, but he also hated being caught off guard emotionally. "Why is seeing her again got me all fucked up like this." Toji muttered to himself while smoking his cigarette. He decided to order some pizza for everyone in the shop to ease his mind.

Later in the day, while mindlessly doing an oil change, Geto showed up for his shift, his usual laid-back attitude was thrown off a bit by Toji's simmering frustration.

Gojo also arrived, loud as ever, coming to chill with his friends and also looking to tune up his car for the night's street race. Sukuna must have filled them in, because they both gave Toji a long leash, sensing his foul mood.

Geto, however, wasn't one to be easily deterred. Strolling over to where Toji was now working on Choso's blood red Nissan GT-R Nismo, tweaking it up for tonight's race

"Yo, Toji, what's eating at you?" Suguru  asked, leaning against the workbench.

Toji grunted, not in the mood to share. "Nothing, Geto. Just drop it."

But Geto, being the persistent friend he was, wouldn't let it go. "Come on, man. You've been off all day. Talk to me."

Toji sighed, running a hand through his hair. He sat on his stool, the weight of the day pressing down on him. He reached behind his head to the table where the infamous weed jar is kept in the shop, pulled out a nug of OG kush and rolled a blunt between his fingers before lighting it up. The first hit was deep, the smoke curling around him as he let out a long exhale staring at his work boots.

"She drove by today," Toji finally said, his voice rough. "Y/N."

Geto's eyes widened. "Y/N? Damn, no wonder you're all twisted up."

Toji took another hit, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Seeing her... it pissed me off. But it also hurt. You know why we broke up. She wanted me to change, to be better, but she couldn't wait for me to get there on my own. It was always on her terms."

Geto nodded, understanding in his gaze. "I get it, man. Sometimes people push because they care, but they don't realize they're pushing too hard."

"Exactly," Toji said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I wanted to grow, but at my own pace. She couldn't see that. And now, after all this time, she just drives by and stares at me like that? It brought everything back."

Geto placed a hand on Toji's shoulder, offering silent support. "Maybe seeing her again means something, Toji. Maybe it's a sign."

Toji snorted, taking another drag from his blunt. "A sign of what? That I should let her back in? After everything?"

"Not necessarily," Geto replied. "Maybe it's just a reminder of how far you've come. You bought your uncle's shop. You've made something of yourself. Don't let her presence mess with your head. Chill out a bit man"

Toji nodded slowly, the words sinking in. He looked around the shop, his shop, and felt a sense of pride swell within him. Geto was right. He had come a long way, and he wasn't about to let the past drag him down.

"Thanks man," Toji said, the anger beginning to fade. "I needed that."

Geto grinned, giving Toji a playful punch on the arm. "Anytime. Now, let's get back to work. This shit aint gonna fix itself."

Toji watched as Geto walked away, feeling a bit lighter. The pain of seeing you again was still there, but it was no longer overwhelming. He took one last hit from his blunt and stubbed it out on his stool strolling through the shop to start on Gojo's car. Your POV You had no idea what possessed you to drive to that side of town, knowing Toji worked there. Maybe it was the lingering memories or the unresolved feelings. Maybe it was the fact you couldn't get him off your mind.

As you headed home, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing Toji again had shaken you more than you wanted to admit.

He looked different, maybe even better than when you were together. The new tattoos, the lip ring, the slightly longer hair – he had changed, but he was still unmistakably Toji.

You still attended the street races sometimes, unable to completely let go of that part of your life. You and Toji had been together for almost three years, and the thrill of the races had become a part of you. You always made sure to stay hidden, not wanting to be seen by him or his friends.

A text from Shoko broke your reverie. There was a race tonight if you wanted to attend. Your mind was twisted up from seeing Toji, but you felt an inexplicable pull to go. Maybe it was a subconscious desire to see him again, to confront the feelings you had been trying to bury.

When you got home, you decided to pick up Shoko and head to the race. She was waiting for you when you pulled up, a knowing look in her eyes. "Ready for some action?" she asked, a grin spreading across her face.

"Yeah," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

At the race spot, the familiar sounds and sights greeted you. You saw your classmate Ijichi with his fully blacked-out 1969 Chevy Camaro SS. You greeted him and hung out for a bit, the familiar roar of engines filling the air.

You knew those engines well. The purr of Gojo's blue 2016 Dodge Viper, Geto's black Dodge Hellcat, Sukuna's red Dodge Hellcat, and Toji's signature metallic purple 1967 Eleanor Mustang Fastback Build. They came in, speeding and drifting, showing off just like you remembered.

Your eyes locked with Sukuna first. He glared at you slightly and skidded his car to a stop right next to you. He rolled down his window and said, "Jump in before Toji spots you. We need to talk."

You turned to Shoko, who encouraged you to go with a nod. You jumped into Sukuna's car, and he pulled off, driving to a quieter spot. He put the car in neutral, letting it idle.

"Why are you even here?" Sukuna asked, his voice edged with irritation. "Haven't you stressed him out enough, Y/N?"

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "I don't know, Sukuna. I guess I just needed to see him. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Well, you did," he said bluntly. "Seeing you messed him up. He's been trying to move on, and you showing up out of the blue isn't helping."

You looked down, guilt gnawing at you. "I understand. I just... I still care about him, you know? I didn't come here to hurt him."

Sukuna's expression softened slightly. "Look, I get it. You two had something real. But you need to let him be. He's finally getting his life together."

You nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "I know. I just... I needed closure, I guess."

"Closure?" Sukuna scoffed. "That's a dangerous game, Y/N. But if you really want it, you need to be honest with him. No more sneaking around."

You took a deep breath, realizing he was right. "Okay. I'll talk to him. But not here, not now."

Sukuna nodded, starting the car again. "Good. Just don't make things harder than they already are."

As he drove you back to the race spot, you felt a mix of apprehension and determination. Seeing Toji had stirred up all the old feelings, but maybe it was time to finally face them and find a way to move forward.

Sukuna dropped you off near Shoko, but not before Toji spotted you getting out of Sukuna's car. You saw his eyes widen in disbelief, and for a moment, it looked like he might crash out. Sukuna immediately tried to explain, but Toji was having none of it. The emotions he tried so hard to keep in check were boiling over, and it was clear to everyone around that he was on the verge of a meltdown.

Geto and Gojo were quick to act, practically pushing Toji back into his car to calm him down. You knew how it looked; the area Sukuna had driven you from was notorious for hookups and quickies. Toji’s mind must have been racing, seeing red completely. He shot himself in his car, rolling up the heavily tinted windows but leaving them cracked slightly. The races weren’t starting for another 15 minutes, but the tension was already palpable.

Inside his car, Toji finally let the tears fall. It was the first time he had really cried since the breakup. He had always stopped himself or drowned out the pain with something else, but now, alone in his car, he couldn’t hold back anymore. The passenger side door opened, and Geto and Gojo climbed in, the cramped space filling with their presence.

Geto passed Toji a pre-rolled blunt, already lit. Toji stared at it, his teary eyes reflecting the flame. He remembered how you used to pre-roll his blunts before his first race. The memory stung, but he took the blunt and inhaled deeply, taking five consecutive pulls before passing it to Gojo. The car quickly turned into a hotbox, the smoke mingling with the lingering scent of motor oil and burnt rubber.

Geto was the first to speak. "You really think Kuna would fuck around with Y/N like that? He knows what she means to you, bro."

Toji scoffed, his voice thick with emotion. "You mean what she meant."

Gojo rolled his eyes, taking a drag from the blunt. "From the way you were gonna crash out, she still means something to you."

Toji let out a bitter laugh. "Does it even matter? Seeing her with him... it just brought everything back."

Geto shook his head, leaning back in the seat. "Look, man, we all know Y/N. She wouldn't do that to you. And Sukuna? He might be a dick sometimes, but he's not stupid. He knows better."

Toji wiped his eyes, frustration mixing with the sadness. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her again. It fucked me up."

Gojo passed the blunt back to Toji. "Then maybe you need to talk to her. Get some closure, or whatever."

Toji took another hit, the smoke filling his lungs and momentarily numbing the pain. "Yeah, maybe."

Geto leaned forward, his expression serious. "You gotta figure this out, Toji. For your sake. You can't keep letting this eat you alive."

Toji nodded slowly, the words sinking in. He looked at his friends, grateful for their support. "Thanks, guys. I needed that."

As the minutes ticked down to the start of the race, Toji felt a small sense of clarity. He wasn't sure what he would do next, but for now, he knew he had to focus on the race.

[demigodickrider]

indefinitely, forever ☆ okkotsu yuuta! [1/3]

okkotsu yuuta (post shibuya) x fem!reader click here for: part one | part two | part three - no spoilers from the manga, dwdw ;) - alternative universe where yuuta is an SCP? - [18+] three-part series, 10k+ words in total

(note: not proofread, expect grammar mistakes) warning: contains descriptions of blood, yuuta is a bit OOC/has that gojo satoru influence, romance, happy ending but contains slight angst and comfort, 2nd person pov, reader swears like a sailor

"Slacking off already?"

You scramble into standing at the authoritative tone. You could feel the heavy rush of blood creeping up on your face, and the hammering of your heart in your ears. It pounds almost painfully against your chest, lungs contracting and expanding fast; both out of fear and embarrassment, with the latter being more prominent across your lethargic features as you stared up at your supervisor.

Nanami leers down at you. Disappointment is etched all across his face, followed by a knowing sigh. "I expected better."

"S-Sorry, sir." You apologize profusely, bowing down. The bright red nametag dangles from your neck and you can't help but notice how your leather shoes had worn out a long time ago. "I must've dozed off somehow. It will not happen again."

"Might a coffee help?"

You raise your head to see a paper coffee cup offered to you, light steam still rising from within. While Nanami had been nothing but ridiculously strict from the start, he was considerate enough to check in on you every once in a while. You accepted the coffee in his stead with a smile.

"Thanks, boss. I'll keep watch."

The blonde man simply hums in response. He leaves as quickly as he came, leaving you alone to watch the hallways.  You see him walk down, turn a curve- and then he's out of your sight.

You lean back, the chair creaking as you did. Working as a security officer was more lackluster than you thought it would be; movies portrayed tales of saving and glory, but this was nothing like it. The hours were long and boring, lasting 12 in total. Every four hours you were required to fuck off your post and switch to another one down the hall. Sometimes you regretted signing the NDA that never once stated just how large the underground facility was, and just how much area coverage you'd have to keep watch single handedly.

Not to mention, the anomalies that lie within.

See, the Foundation had just three main jobs for you: Observe, Check-up and Report. The comically huge button was right next to you, shining in all of its glory and always just a stretch away in any case of a problem.

You flicked between CCTV channels. Some displayed the outer areas, hallways going beyond your line of sight and others within the confined cells of those you’re keeping watch about. Most of the anomalies here are kept in solitary confinement. You’ve had your fair share of jumpscares when an entity approached too close to the camera, slobbering all up against the lense; before your screen flickers and the anomaly returns to its restful state. Oftentimes it leaves a foggy residue and a prisoner would be assigned to clean it up.

And more than often, they die doing it.

But with a clean camera and one less burden on the face of Earth— who really gives a shit? Certainly not you. Certainly not when the pay was so damn good you spent it on a trip to Bali the first month you made bank. And certainly not for…

Is that a walking person?

You thrust forward in your seat, eyes glued onto the screen as if you could make his face out in any better resolution than the crappy screen could ever do you service. The choices linger in your head: should you approach or report? One choice would lead to the individual’s death and the other might just lead you to yours.

So you took the third option: to talk to them.

There’s a static in the speaker. You tap the mic briefly, earning the attention of the stranger. They stop mid-track, head turning up and staring almost right into your very eyes, as if they could see through you.

“Identify yourself, or you will be detained.”

Person puts both hands up. “My name’s Yuta.” The voice of a man, no doubt, but you kept your suspicions still. “I woke up in a room and the door was unlocked, so I left. Where am I?”

“What room?” Your tone sharpened in inquiry.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

“Identify yourself.” You repeat, customary of the protocol you learned before you started the job. Half of you thought of contacting Nanami; but it would risk him encountering the mysterious man. On the other hand, you couldn’t just let an unknown person roam around the facility. Much less: what if this person was an entity?

A shapeshifter of sorts, perhaps? You wouldn’t really know considering the fact that half the anomalies here are capable of human speech.

He stays silent for a while.

You repeat, “I said, identify yourself. I will give you 10 seconds to prove your humanity before I hand you over to the authorities.”

“Fuck.” Yuta mumbles, running a hand through his hair. Prove my humanity? A million thoughts ran through his head at once. Clearly, this place he had wandered into is nothing human-like. Rather, it's designed like a prison. He rummages through his pockets— nothing. All items that he brought with him prior to being caught had been confiscated. 

The countdown had started.

10

9

8

7

… “Wait,” He thought of an idea. “I can prove to you that I’m human. You can touch me. That’ll be enough, no?”

You sneer at his idea, “No physical contact.”

Yuta sighs, looking down at his uniform. At least he had his outfit intact, which means that they never intended to strip him bare at all. The man pursed his lips in a line, hands holding onto the clasp of his jacket.

6

5

4

3

2

1

… “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” You yell at him, dashing to the door. You were outside just in time before Yuta could fully undress himself. His hands stop fumbling with the belt of his pants. At a loss for words, you could only watch as he drops his shirt back over his body, leaving little to imagination. 

He cranes his head up at you with a knowing smile, “Have I now proven my humanity, ma’am?”

“Nudity is strictly prohibited in this facility!”

His eyes fold into crescents at the revelation, “I’m sorry. That was the only solution I could think of. Can you show me the way out?”

You folded your arms, “No.”

“I thought so. May I at least use the restroom?”

“No.”

Yuta’s eyes drift upwards, deep in thought. “If so, will I ever make it out of here?”

“That depends,” You answer, crossing your arms together. The taser strapped onto your belt felt heavy and dangerous— more than usual. Something about Yuta just didn’t feel right, and your gut instincts claw at you to run. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

The man says nothing, merely watching every step you take as you head back into the control panel.

Your hand rests on the red button, eyes never wavering from the man that stood below you at a safe distance away. “Your choice, Yuta.”

“How must I prove myself then?”

“By showing me the anomaly that you are.”

His eyes visibly harden at your words, no longer having the glimmer that they once did. It was in the present that you felt it— the darkness that radiated off his very body, and the reason that this particular man had been wandering the halls of the facility unbothered. 

“An anomaly?”

“You’re not human.” You simply accuse.

“You might be right about that. But I choose to be human regardless of what I am.” 

You don’t care enough about his reasons. The way his dark eyes reflect absolutely nothing terrified you to the very core, more than any jumpscare you’ve encountered. The bright red button underneath you burns with such ferocity that it was only right to hit it— and send the foreign man back into the cell he once broke out of. You watch as soldiers dressed in hazmat suits flood into the hall at your call, almost always a millisecond away, their specialized guns pointed at the man.

But he did not flinch, not even once spared a gaze to look around him. He stayed his ground, only to be dragged away.

His eyes were trained on you, and only you.

“Did he hurt you?”

You’re now on break in the staffroom with Nanami and another supervisor named Maki, right after he heard of what happened. You shook your head, taking a sip of the fourth cup of coffee you had that day. The caffeine had long worn out its effects on your body that you just had to keep drinking, regardless of how detrimental it might just be to your health.

“Thankfully, no. What the fuck is a Keter class doing out there? How is he uncontained?”

“He broke out.” You turn your focus onto the coffee that had run cold, wedged between your fingers. You’ve always hated how fragile these paper cups were. It reminded you of how easy it was for these entities to crush humans to brine and bone with little to no mercy. Yet at the hands of Yuta, you were miraculously spared.

He was friendly, even.

“What kind of SCP is he?”

“He’s not an SCP. He’s a human host with an SCP living in him. Sometimes it appears, sometimes it doesn’t.” Maki shrugs.

“Damn, that’s cool.”

“He tells us that it was bound to him through love.”

You choked on your drink, splattering brown  everywhere on the table. Nanami sighs and pats your back. Maki looks at you in disgust, wiping the stains off her uniform with a handkerchief. You wanted to laugh. Out of all things, an SCP of love. You chuckle a little, smiling at your supervisor only to be met with a flat stare.

Oh.

“No way.”

“It’s true. The entity demands that no one lays a finger on him. Most times he can control the SCP. But when he’s hurt, it’s a different story entirely.”

“Wait, wait. So how did you guys manage to catch him?”

Maki recounts the details, “Apparently, he was a secret weapon in the military designed to decimate hundreds in one sweep. That SCP came to him naturally as a child, but it wasn’t his actions that got him caught.”

“So what did?”

“His superiors betrayed him and sent him over to us as they feared that he was getting too powerful for them to control.”

Oh. You started to feel a little bad for him now. But a memory crosses your mind and suddenly that sympathy is gone. 

“He almost stripped naked in front of me.”

“Huh?” Nanami was caught off-guard for once, both eyebrows raised instead of one.

“I asked him to prove his humanity.”

“And then he started stripping?” Maki had an equally confused look on her face. She pushes up the frame on her face before leaning forward, “Don’t tell me that you liked it.”

“I mean…”

“Seriously?”

You laugh sheepishly at her words, tossing the empty cup into the bin behind them in perfect accuracy. “I’m just kidding. At least I won’t have to meet him anymore. Can’t have him strip naked around me every time we cross paths.”

Nanami frowns at your words, “Be careful.”

“Sure, sure.” You wave goodbye to them and take your leave, heading towards your last shift of the day.

You found yourself in front of his cell.

Realization only hits you once you read the tag off the door, painted red and in bold: KETER CLASS. DO NOT ENGAGE. Unlike other cells, Keter cells had no windows to peek through. You could only rely on the CCTV back in the control panel room, but you found it unreliable considering how easy it was for Keters to destroy such puny little things. You take a step back.

"I really should stop drinking coffee." You mumble to yourself and turn away.

"Did you come to visit me?"

An all-too familiar voice echoed behind you, and you jump away instantaneously from the door. It's still intact. How he managed to hear you, you don't know. What you do know now is that you're standing in front of his cell.

"No."

"Is no the only word you know?"

Witty. You cough, "I heard about you."

"What about me?"  

You hesitate a little, "That you're not the anomaly."

"So now you know." There's curiosity in his tone, erasing any lethargy you had left in your body. Guilt paws at your heartstrings for doubting his reasons during the encounter earlier, but the man is still Keter class. It doesn't make him any less of a monster compared to others. The only difference between him and others is that he's placed in a jail befitting of lower ranked anomalies. "What else did you hear?"

"That you still pose as a threat to humanity."

"Am I a threat to you?"

"Yes." was your answer. You were here for money, not morality. While the notion that he would rot in his cell for the rest of his years was indeed a question of one, you weren't paid to stay idle and chitchat with an anomaly. You were expected even less: to simply cast morality aside and do as you were told by the Foundation. So you dusted yourself off and turned on your heels to move towards the next post you were supposedly assigned to. 

"I see. Well it was nice to know you..."

At the sound of your name, you freeze yet again.

"How do you know my name?"

"It's on your tag."

"How can you see me?"

Goosebumps prickle your skin all over. Your legs pick up the sudden skip in your heartbeat and in a flash, you start sprinting for your life. You were just in time, out of range as the metal door breaks open with a crash, sending debris everywhere. You were far enough to get hit, but the sound had been loud enough to garner attention from creatures all over the place. Hisses and banging scratched at your ears as you continued down the hall, the opposite direction of where safety should be. But it didn't really matter; people outside would have heard of it and safety would come for you any minute now.

You force a look over your shoulder to see an enormous white creature behind him, large grey claws extended and chillingly long arms draped around his frame resembling a protective stance. Behind the cages of muscle on her head lies a single eye, glaring right into your very soul. It's mouth move in ragged breaths, teeth sharper than its claws ready to bite. If you squint hard enough- the man with his pet monster was smiling at you. 

"You do know its rude to leave without saying goodbye, right?"

And like a predator, he started to chase you.

The entity lets out a bloodcurdling scream, getting on its arms and wriggling towards you. Now you're fully awake and drunk on adrenaline, sweat dripping down your body with how fast you were running. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Curses slew out of your lips as you ran even harder knowing how quickly he was catching up. You focused ahead instead; to the left is a dead end, you know that. And to the right is an even longer hall of agitated anomalies that most likely are on his level too. With a giant monster chasing after you however, were you really on the spot to give a shit about what would happen?

No. Anyone in your spot would've done the same.

It helped that your paycheck had been deposited earlier last week. You could really give less of a fuck about damage control.

Your feet started to hurt. "Fucking leather shoes." You grumble to yourself and skid a turn towards the elongated row of Keter-class anomalies. You pass multiple warning signs, the alarms going off. Eventually you see red all around you, shadows dancing on the walls as they approached even closer, slowing down just to taunt you. 

"Stop running."

"Then stop chasing me, you freak!"

"Well, the 'freak' has a name. It's Yuta." He closes the gap between the two of you, voice steady despite how fast he was chasing up. 

You paid him no mind as you duck underneath a warning sign and roll on your back to avoid a reaching arm from the screeching creature. Stubborn as you are, you notice an emergency exit and made mental note to stay close to it. You unclasp the taser off your belt just in time when a hand grabs your shoulder. You fire up the taser and jab right, but miss and eventually find yourself falling to the ground.

You made romantic contact with the floor, lips on the cold hard tile. "Shit!" You hiss from the pain and roll away just in time as Yuta was about to grasp a hold on you yet again.

Blood gushes from your split lip, and it tastes disgusting knowing that you just made love with the floor. Right before you could get up, though, you found yourself encaged within the palms of the alien-like SCP. Pain bursts through your nerves everywhere, feeling like knives stabbing deep into your gut. You could've swore you heard your ribs break from the amounting pressure.

"Caught you."

"Yuuuuuuta," The creature closes its janky fingers around your body, salivating as it eyed you from head to toe. The pressure around your body tightens and you felt like you could break just from how tight it was gripping you. Hair stuck to your face like a wet rag, leaving you with limited eyesight. "What should I do with herrrrrr?"

"Let.... Go... of me!" You rasp between breaths.

"Don't kill her. She'll be our lifeline, Rika."

Rika lets out a displeased grunt and sets you down on the ground, but has its hands still wrapped around you. Not as tight, but much like a warning that it could break you anytime it needed to. You catch your breath with a chain of fitful coughs, your legs and lungs burning from the marathon. Your chest heaves heavily, sore and most probably bruised. There's splitting pain from your lips, blood dripping onto the very same tile you shared your first kiss with.

You now see him eye-to-eye, close enough to notice his parted hair and sneakers. He couldn't be any younger than 20, but the eyebags that hung below his eyes tell a different story.

"I'm sorry. I need you as a hostage."

"Fuck you." You spat at him coldly.

Yuta kneels and presses a hand to your shoulder, forcing you to stop writhing under his touch. You try shoving his hand away, but the grip stays firm. Some fuck ass glowing magic flowed through his hand and loosened the soreness in your muscles, easing your tension. From your point of view, the man radiated like a glowstick. 

"Don't touch me!"

He locks his eyes with you, "I'm healing you."

"Would've been nice to not get hurt in the first place."

Yuta sucks a sharp breath in, "Look, I'm really sorry for hurting you. I just need to get out of here. You'll have to be my hostage."

You click your tongue in annoyance at his genuine apology, "You won't even make it out the front gate. They'll be all over you soon. You think the Foundation gives a shit about some security guard like me? They'll kill us both, dumbass."

"You're right." Yuta is clearly amused by your personality now that you're being treated as a partner-in-crime rather than a stranger. You stood stunned when his hand moves up and his thumb ghosts over your lips, "Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

His thumb was cold against your lips. The action felt more intimate than you'd like, and it had you holding your breath.  It needed major balls not to flutter from the contact.

The bleeding stopped, prompting him to move his hand away.

The cold lingered a little longer than you'd like for it to be.

"Us? I'm not going anywhere with you."

"You will. Now that you're with me, they'll think you're complying with me. And if you won't, they'll imprison you." The bleeding stopped, and he wipes the remaining blood off on the side of his pants. 

You fall silent. What he said was roughly the truth. In reality, it would be even worse if you did get caught- not only will Nanami be under fire for the inability to protect you- but you might also be on trial under suspicion of letting Yuta escape. And such trials might just end in your death. All in all, its a lose-lose case; but you'd much rather be on the winning team.

"Damn you."

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

You raise your head to glare at the man who had just obnoxiously turned your own words against you. His eyes light up a little, seeing your reaction. "Your choice."

"Fine."

"What was that?"

"I said yes!" You retort, flipping the bird at him.

He flashes you a grin, "That might've been the first time you've said yes to me!"

Oh, how you wished for supernatural powers like his to decimate the teasing man on the spot. Your fists crumple to a close, keeping that rage preserved in the back of your head. One day you'd get your revenge on him.

"Rika. My katana please." Yuta caresses its face gently.

You could feel her giddiness from the shake of Rika's enclosed palm around you. She reaches up to her neck and pulls out a long blade from within, handing it over to him. "For youuuu, Yutaaa."

He takes it from her, swishing it in the air and stretching his limbs free. "Thanks. Lead the way, I'll keep you safe." There's shouting and stomping from a distance, the roaring of soldiers fending off escaped anomalies. Nanami and Maki are out there too, calling for you. Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of betraying them.

You huff, blowing hair out of your face.

"It's on the other side. Opposite of the way we ran in. But I need you to do me a favor and not kill everyone you see."

Yuta brightens up. The likelihood of him fighting against a large horde of people had him excited. "That's not something I can promise."

"Fine. Then at least spare Nanami and Maki."

"Who's that?" 

"Uh, guy with blonde hair and a woman with green hair."

He shrugs, “I’ll try.”

Deep down inside, you felt a part of you die.

----------------------------------------------------------------------> part 2

[emotionally-clumsy-soldier]

ATTEEEEN-TION!

The name's Sgt. Jane J. Doe. I'm the best damn killer America's got! 48 years young, transmasc, bisexual polyamorous. War vet and amputee (my left hand). I've been a mercenary for going on a decade now and I don't intend to stop now! Welcome to my damn blog!

I'll give you a warning right now, son, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to fight. To win. I ain't friendly, never have been and I never will be.

When you're a merc, you have to be real adaptable to bullshit. I've kept a combat log of everything that goes on here:

#soldier's radio - Talking. Rambling. Cussing. The like.

#incoming signal - Got a question? I keep 'em here. Come to visit? I also keep those here. You are under constant surveillance, maggot!

#teleported bread - Reblogs. They're my posts now. You will act like they're original!

#zoldier arc - A log I kept of that time I turned into a zombie.

#tacitus traumas arc - ...

#awol arc - I'm not proud of what I've done. But I would lay down on train tracks for them.

That's all you're getting out of me. You want more answers? Pry 'em out of me!

Here's my old intro. Do with it what you will.

ooc/ boundaries and more info below

here is his ref:

other info about jane: he's autistic, he's an amnesiac, and he suffers from ptsd (primarily the robot wars, as you'll see brought up on this blog a lot) and has an extremely covert case of DID.

despite his tough talk, he's not all that hot. he's a big softie when he lets his guard down - if he lets his guard down.

he doesn't live on-base anymore and is an ex-mercenary. he lives in a house in an abandoned construction site with his two robot nephews, otto and arthur (@pinniped-medibots and @emotionally-anxious-spybots).

my name is box btw! i go by they/them and my tag is #box's lockbox. i'm 21 years old and i love to draw !!

i'm not straight-forward with my writing. you have to read between the lines. i'm not gonna just give you answers, you have to work for em ;3

BOUNDARIES:

don't godmod, please. (ie write yourself or your ocs into jane's backstory, write jane for me, etc).

no ableism, sexism, racism, etc. i will not take any nonsense about jane being any of these things either.

do NOT send jane weird fucking asks, such as implied nsfw, intense gore, or anything else under that vein of things. you WILL be publicly shamed. just because i'm an adult doesn't mean i want your shitty gross "jokes" or "angst prompts" in my inbox.

this blog is run and maintained by @angel-cove-choir. any and all drawn art is done by @mxboxlocks.

[fanonimus]

My brother is obsessed with TTG, and I am baffled. We binged it, and I looked around in the... Fandom? I know the show is lighthearted, but I'm a psychology nerd.

Tw: Abuse, neglect, shitty people in general, mind conzrol and trauma. Progress with caution.

Not many people talk about the abuse Robin faces. I don't understand why is there basicaly no angsty content.

I also want to scoop that boy up and hug him and take him away from those people that surround him.

This boy has no positive influence in his life. Get him a therapyst.

He's neglected. I was sick watching this.

WHAT THE HELL DUDE this was genuinely hard to watch, and even the colour coded idiots aknowledge how badly he was treated.

Oh but they don't get away scott free. The little idiots.

They constantly hurt him (which I noticed is a reocurring joke, but it happens to him so constantly that it's not even humour. It's just... painful.)

What the fuck was that prank?

Considering I know his backstory pretty well (look, I watch enough dc), this prank just makes me want to cry. He smiles. His smile broke my heart. I genuinely started crying, alonside Robin. It was not a nice experience.

So they clearly don't have a problem with triggering traumatic responses.

Robin is also almost always the butt of the joke, even tough he is the leader nobody respects him.

Which would be understandable if he didn't try his damn hardest. He's resourceful and can make the best of a situation.

Like the time he got dance powers (which is just amazing, holy shit I want dance powers).

He found great use of an othervise "useless" pover.

Speaking of useless, his "friends" look down on him because he has no powers. Even though he is capable of beating all of them without it.

Yknow, like in the movie.

Oh yeah, nice recall to the movie the one where they competed with the Super Hero Girls team (love that show).

Y'know, where it started like this

And ended like this in like, five seconds.

Abandonment issues go brrr:

He's my angsty boy.

Also, the fact that he answered mind control on the last question, and it wasn't even on the board, broke something in me.

Him being a "control freak" is also played up for jokes, which I personally hate, but you can also go with the route of the Titans just not listening, ever, and Robin, still raised by the batman even if differently than in canon, in a city where if you are not on top you are dead, it's obvious that he developed an instictive need for control. He had gotten used to being on top of every situation, so when he felt that control slip, he grasped it and held on. This behaviour is not good, but he can't help it, and without proper consuling, he won't be able to stop this behaviour. He could, if he just let go of the illusion of control he clings to, a safety net, and we all know one can not simply just do that.

(I was someone people called a "control freak". I worked on myself, and I changed, but it took years after I noticed. Letting go is the hardest thing people like me and him can do because letting go means losing control, and that can be the scariest thing in the world. So I have experience, yes.)

(Yes, I also have experience. No, I am not going to talk about it, but it wasn't physical, don't worry)

For the hitting... Wild hot take and shit: Since Batsy was not a stellar dad, he kept robin in line by means not so family-friendly. (He hit his kids in canon, it's really OOC for him, but we have proof that happened) And it was really effective. Children of abusive parents go a lot of ways, but repeating the parents' mistakes is one of them. So maybe Robin decided that violence might be the thing to keep his teammates in line. (We are circleing back yeah.) But it clearly didn't work.

Edit: Holy shit I just realized that this Robin is all of the worst qualities of the other Robins. Obsessive, Controlling, full of himself, violent, and then throw their insecurities into there too (Abandonment issues, parental issues, anxiety, paranoia). Holy lady.

Edit2: Thank you, Yurki-posts, for pointing out some things my little rant was missing. I shall update it now.

[whiskeypascals]

Open Arms

(NOT MY GIF)

Request from anon!!

Warnings: Major character death, mention of Y/N panicking, Joel blaming himself, somewhat ooc Joel (he’s so insecure please get him a therapist jfc), not necessarily a warning but this can be seen as platonic or romantic!

Summary: It was 10 years after the outbreak, Y/N left his home town and found Joel, who was on a smuggling mission. After completing it, Joel decided that keeping Y/N around would be helpful in the long run to get to Tommy, who was in Wyoming as of the last time Joel had heard anything. On the way out west, Joel opens up more to Y/N bit by bit and they found love in a the wasteland that’s left of the planet. They get to Wyoming and Tommy isn’t there, no trace of him even. it sparks something in Joel and things take a complete turn and Joel ends up leaving and as soon as he goes, they get trapped by a group of fireflies and Joel really regrets what he says

On the day of the outbreak, Y/N had no choice but to stay where he was, but after ten years, he couldn’t stand to stay in this place anymore. The QZ was full of fascist FEDRA officers who would do anything to keep ‘order’. The streets would be patrolled all night long, there would be casual searches of apartments where they claimed they would look for criminals but all they would do was go in and take people away from their families and shoot at any sign of protest. There were many nights where Y/N was awoken by screaming from his neighbors but he couldn’t get up and fight for them.

He couldn’t fucking take it any longer.

So, he left. He snuck out of his building under the cover of night fall and made it out like he’d seen smugglers do so many times from the window.

It was nearing a year since Y/N left the QZ, he’d come and go from different groups of people and ended up alone and scared for what seemed like the millionth time.

That’s when he came.

Joel.

He was on a smuggling trip and was making his way to Michigan, and got caught in an ambush and found Y/N hiding.

“No don’t shoot!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing his hands up “I’m unarmed.” he said, keeping his hands where Joel could see.

“Please help me, I don’t know who those people are. Please.” He started to beg, “I escaped my QZ about a year ago.”

Joel looked around and put his finger up to his lips. Y/N stopped talking and Joel moved to hide in the same spot that Y/N was just minutes ago. Y/N crouched back down next to Joel and watched as a few trucks passed by.

“Name.” That wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Y/N.” Y/N whispered.

“Where did you come from.” Another stern demand.

“San Francisco QZ.”

Y/N didn’t know why he trusted Joel as much as he did in this moment, it was probably because he was in a life or death situation right now and he was his only chance of making it out alive.

“Listen, I’m goin’ to get us out but you have to listen to what I say, and then you’ll be on your way Y/N.”

Y/N nodded.

The two stood up and Joel pulled the gun off of his hip and held it out in front of him as he slowly treaded into the street, it was dark outside but he couldn’t pull out his light because it was an obvious death wish.

Joel heard shooting behind them. He turned around and shoved Y/N back behind him and cocked his gun. There was someone shooting at them from afar.

“Shit aim.” He said to himself before he himself started shooting.

“Stay behind me.”

Joel walked toward where the person was shooting from, luckily it was only one person and Joel one shotted them.

“God damn idiot.”

Joel turned back around and the two kept quiet as they walked out of danger.

“Thank you.” Is all that Y/N could say when they were far away from the town.

“Keep quiet, there might be some more of them out here.”

“I think you’re overthinking”

Joel turned around, “I’m thinking rationally, we have no idea what’s out here.”

Y/N sighed, “Yeah, sorry…” He thought for a second, “Hey I never got your name.”

“Why do you need to know, we’re splitting our ways, I’m goin’ to finish my job and you’re gonna keep surviving.”

The two did not split ways.

It was a week later and Joel had brought Y/N all the way to the city in Michigan where he was taking his cargo to, and in return he got another gun from the person he was selling to.

“Here, you must know how to use it if you’ve been out here for this long.” Joel handed the pistol to Y/N, who nodded in agreement.

“Where are we going from here?”

Joel said nothing.

“Joel?”

“I’ve got a brother out west, I was thinking that I could get there easier if I had you navigating the way.” It took him ages to finally reply to Y/N’s question.

“What if he’s not there?”

“He will be.”

The two men walked out of the abandoned building that Joel met his buyer in and Y/N spoke up.

“The distance is a good fifteen hundred miles so if you have a truck hidden somewhere like all that ammo, it would be best to find it.”

“We’ll make do.”

The first few days went by cruelly slow, back and forth bickering between Joel and Y/N and sleeping in the middle of the woods feet apart, but as the days went past, the two started to open up more to each other. It was easier said than done for Joel, but Y/N had no issues with sharing his most of his story.

It was day twelve of walking and Y/N had found themselves in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t been going this way before, but that was a year ago, so to say the least they were lost.

“Joel, I hate to say this to you but we might need to find a map.”

“Y/N tell me where we can find a map, look where the hell we are.”

“I sort of remember this area, there should be a truck stop somewhere.”

Joel said nothing and just kept walking.

Five miles later there was indeed an old truck stop, worn away by time and taken over by wildlife.

“You swear it’s empty?” Joel said, looking for an entrance.

“Well, I can’t promise anything, so pay attention to everything.”

“Save that advice for yourself Y/N” Joel found a loose board covering up a broken glass door and the two went inside.

They were met with the smell of mold and decay, the only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps crunching on the debris on the floor.

“Let’s find the map and get out, ‘kay, I think I remember the layout of this place” Y/N said quietly.

Joel nodded, it felt good to Y/N for Joel to agree with him for once, even if what he said was common knowledge between the two.

‘Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.’ Joel thought to himself, looking around seeing two dead bodies of what looked like smugglers based solely on what they were wearing. Y/N’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped

“Fuck.” He mouthed

He pulled his gun out and Y/N did the same. They both held their weapons out and started walking, it got to a point in the building where the sunlight stopped leaking in and the both of them had to pull their flashlights out too.

That’s when Y/N heard the clicking.

He turned to Joel and put a finger over his mouth. Joel turned to look forward and took the smallest steps he possibly could to not make any noise and Y/N walked in the same manner.

They got to the back room where a clicker stood. Joel went to line up his shot, but before he even got his finger on the trigger, a gunshot from Y/N rang out. The clicker turned and screamed a guttural sound, Joel let out two quick shots from his gun and the clicker fell to the floor.

“We have to get out of here. Now.” He said bluntly, Y/N turned to run out of the truck stop and made it to the doorway they came in before realizing that Joel wasn’t behind him.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Y/N started to panic.

“JOEL?” He yelled out.

“Y/N GO.” Joel yelled back, he sounded far away from where Y/N was standing, there were two gunshots and then the sound of heavy boots on tile floor, Y/N got out of the door and waited for Joel to make it and slammed the board against the door.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” is all Joel said between heavy breaths.

“What happened back there?” Y/N grabbed onto Joel’s arm, “Scared the fuck out of me man.”

“Those smugglers turned, they almost got me.”

“Thank god they didn’t, I don’t want to be out here alone again.”

“Thank you for waiting, I’m not 100% sure if they’re dead so we have to get going.”

“What about the map?”

“Fuck that map, we need to go, Y/N.”

The two kept walking West. It would take at least 6 more days for the two to even make it to Wyoming, let alone find where Tommy was.

Just as it started to turn to night, Joel and Y/N decided to stop for that night and set up camp in the woods so if anything was coming, they would be able to hear if a branch snapped or leaves rustled.

“Hey, Joel, can I ask you something?” Y/N asked, setting down the lamp that Joel brought.

Joel looked up from where he was laying out their sleeping bags.

“Do you have any other family out here besides Tommy?”

“M-mm.” Joel shook his head.

He really didn’t, he would have Sarah if he could have saved her that day, but things didn’t go the way he had planned to that night.

“D’you?” Joel asked, getting into his sleeping bag.

“No. My sister died the night of the outbreak, we’d planned to get to LA but it was so damn crowded in the streets, the runners got to her before we could run out of the town.”

Joel turned to see Y/N starting to tear up.

“Sorry, talking about her makes me so emotional, she was only 17. It almost felt like I was her dad, or at least in that moment.”

Y/N sniffed and laid down in his sleeping bag.

“I know how you feel,” Joel turned off the lamp and laid down too.

“You said you didn’t have family out here?”

“I lost my little girl when the outbreak started.”

“How old?”

“12.”

Joel turned away to face away from Y/N

“Fuck I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew it would upset you.”

Y/N sat up and looked over to Joel, he’d never seen the older man so vulnerable.

“Joel,” Y/N moved closer to him “I’m sorry. I know how you feel, I know that you feel like you need to protect me, and I need you to know that I’m gonna survive this and we’ll get out asses to Wyoming and find your brother.” He said putting his hands on Joel’s shoulder. He felt the man tremble slightly under his touch.

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N.” Joel shrugged Y/N’s hand off his shoulder and turned to look at him, Y/N got up and kneeled by Joel’s side to hug him.

Joel didn’t know what to do at first honestly, it was the first time he had felt any empathy in 11 years. Just as Y/N was going to pull away and apologize, Joel swung his arm around his side and hugged him tightly.

“Okay, shit Joel, too tight.” Y/N struggled to say, Joel took his arms out from around Y/N and mumbled a small ‘sorry’.

“Tell me about her in the morning.” Y/N said, scooting back to his sleeping bag.

Joel nodded and reached to turn off the lantern behind the two of their heads.

Joel didn’t get much sleep that night, he kept waking up and falling back asleep to only repeat the process until morning. That was a common occurrence for him lately. When the sun came up, Joel started getting all of his things together to be prepared when Y/N woke up. It was only about a half an hour before he did wake up though.

When he woken up, he saw that all of Joel’s things had gone and he started to think that Joel left him like he had done with so many different groups of people.

“Morning.” Joel said from a few feet away, he was sitting on a tree trunk that had fallen down a long time ago.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief and got up from his spot. He noticed that Joel had packed all of their stuff up into their backpacks except his sleeping bag. He rolled it up quickly and fastened it so it wouldn’t come undone while they were walking.

“What was she like?” Y/N asked after a while.

“She was a lot like her mom, same eyes and smile y’know, things like that.”

Joel kept what he said about Sarah short and sweet and they moved on from there.

It felt weird to Joel to be this open with someone he met less than a month ago, but it somehow felt right to him at the same time.

The two kept walking, and walking, and walking some more for a full day and a full night. They reached a sign that read

“Welcome to Nebraska!” In massive letters, it was covered in graffiti and rust from all the time it was out there with no one to keep it pretty.

As day turned to night once again, Joel and Y/N found a place far from any life that would be out there, and called it a night.

Joel watched Y/N lay out his sleeping bag and turned to do the same, he thought for a second and decided to speak on his thoughts.

“Y/N, bring your sleeping bag closer.”

“Uh, okay,” He moved his stuff closer and sat down on top of it. “Is everything alright Joel?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah just thinkin’” He said quietly.

“So you wanted me to move closer to you because you’re thinking?” Y/N laughed a little.

“Yeah about you idiot.”

Y/N looked and Joel confused

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Y/N went to speak but Joel cut him off

“I’m mean and I’m bossy, I have no redeeming traits.”

Joel finished and Y/N sat there for a minute thinking of what to say.

The hardened man he had grown to know just spilled out to him and he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Joel, you saved my life, you’ve kept me out of danger that would have killed me by now, yes you’re mean but that’s who you are.” he finally said breaking the silence that seemed hours long.

Joel hugged Y/N, just like they hugged when Joel told him about Sarah.

“Can we uh, sleep like this?” Y/N suggested, still hugging Joel tight, he was enjoying the human touch just as much as Joel was.

“It’s kinda complicated with two separate sleeping bags Y/N. How big is yours?”

Y/N tensed at those words and Joel noticed.

“Your fuckin’ sleeping bag Y/N.” Joel said flatly.

“Oh it’s big enough for both of us I think, we’d have to squeeze together but it would work.”

Joel let go of Y/N and scooted out of his own sleeping bag and Y/N got in and opened up the zipper to let Joel squeeze in next to him. It was kind of uncomfortable at first for both of them and they knew they would wake up with aching backs but they repositioned themselves and got comfortable.

That was one of the first nights Joel had slept fully through.

‘I’m fuckin’ losin’ it.’ He thought when he woke up with the heat off of Y/N’s body radiating onto his back and an arm around his waist.

He was again, the first to wake up and the moment he moved to try and get up, Y/N woke up.

“You feeling better Joel?”

Joel hummed in response, as much as he hated feeling vulnerable, he really liked having someone not tell him that he should fix himself.

“Good, let’s get going.”

The two packed up their stuff and trekked through rain and sun until they reached a sign that brought a smile to Joel’s face.

It was the first time that Y/N had seen Joel smile a genuine smile.

“Kay enough ogling the sign let’s go find Tommy.” Y/N smiled.

“Welcome to Wyoming.”

As Joel and Y/N walked further into the state, they were awestruck about how beautiful the landscape managed to stay,

“Joel listen,” Y/N whispered

“It’s just deer Y/N.”

“No those steps are too heavy.”

“Well, whatever it is I’m sure they don’t need us to help, there’s no screaming.”

Y/N nodded and they kept walking.

They had finally reached Casper, the last place Joel had heard from Tommy, the city was desolate, not a single form of life as far as the eye could see. Joel’s joy suddenly disappeared.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked quietly.

“I- He-.”

Joel screamed out Tommy’s name, he didn’t want to think that he wasn’t here anymore, he needed him back. Ten years was a long time without your brother.

“Joel we’ll find him don’t worry,” Y/N went to put his hand on Joel’s shoulder, put Joel pushed it away before it even made contact.

“You don’t know dangerous this place is for him, Y/N. He could be dead.” Joel started getting angry and Y/N backed away from him.

“Joel, I do know.” Y/N assured

“You only survived because I helped you, you were unarmed and you would have died, and do you think Tommy is armed?”

“Yes Joel, he was a firefly of course he would be armed.”

Joel sighed and stopped talking and Y/N scanned his face for any emotion.

“I need to go, I dug myself too deep and I need to go and you need to go back to San Francisco.”

“Joel, I can’t go back, they’ll kill me, and I know you’ve been smuggling for a long time but you were just as lost as I was when we needed to find a map, I can help you Joel.” Y/N begged.

“No, I’m going to look all around here and find my fucking brother.”

Joel walked away and Y/N just watched him,

“Joel, don’t fucking leave me here.” He started to get choked up.

Joel said nothing and kept walking.

Y/N accepted defeat and turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch Joel leave.

Just as Joel reached the door of the building they were in, he noticed a group of people walking towards it, he turned around and ran back to the room Y/N was in.

“I thought you were leaving, Joel.” Y/N said, he was sitting on the floor with back against the wall.

“There are people coming towards here, we need to hide. Right now.”

“What?”

“Right now, Y/N.”

Joel helped Y/N stand up and they found a smaller room off the room that they were already in and crouched down behind boxes.

They were in the same position they were the night they met. Joel was crouched in front of Y/N and pulling out his gun, and Y\N was behind Joel, he was armed this time, but it still felt the same to him.

“Joel, let me go out there I can protect myself.”

“No. You stay he-“

Before Joel could even finish his sentence, Y/N was getting up from behind him.

“Fuck. Y/N, get the fuck back behind me!” Joel whisper-shouted.

Y/N didn’t listen and he made his way back into the room they were in moments prior.

It was almost cliche how Y/N was struck down as soon as he walked into the open area. Joel heard the gunshot and booked it into the room.

“Holy shit.” is all he said when three firefly members stood in front of the door to leave.

“Joel?” Y/N asked weakly.

“Hey, stay with me Y/N don’t fucking do this, I’m sorry for what I said earlier please don’t fucking do this to me.” Joel started tearing up.

Four shots rung out through the building, Joel shot all three of the members, he missed one but almost instantly got them down with the fourth shot.

“Joel, who were those people?”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Joel looked down to see blood spilling onto the floor. “Fuck, c’mon we have to get you up.” Y/N winced as Joel tried to slide his arm under his waist.

“Joel stop.” Y/N said, pushing Joel’s arms off of him.

“Please, Y/N I- I’m sorry for saying you would have died back in Chicago.”

Joel just broke down at this point, he gripped onto the front of Y/N’s shirt and held him in his arms, just like he did that night in Nebraska it hit him, he realized that no matter how much he tried, people around him would keep getting hurt or killed, it happened to Sarah, God knows what happened to Tommy, and now it’s Y/N.

All Joel could think about was how he said that Y/N would have never survived and that’s why he got up when he had told him to stay behind him,

He wanted to prove to Joel that he could save himself.

And that’s what killed him. Words that came out of Joel’s mouth. Words that Joel said to him. Joel thinking that he was weak.

The man would never forgive himself, he would never let anyone close to him ever again in fear of the pattern repeating.

[heartcereql]

am i the girl that you dream of?

✩ xavier thorpe x f!reader

SYNOPSIS- all over the summer, xavier has been having dreams of a certain girl, who, much to his surprise, arrives at nevermore for the new school year. 

CW- lowercase intended, cursing, bianca and xavier don’t have any history, also divina may be a bit ooc since we didn’t get much of her. 

A/N- i know it doesn’t really follow pretty when i cry (the song i got the prompt from) but i loved how it turned out. sorry in advance, it’s pretty long LMAO. also feel free to send request for wednesday characters! :)

moonlight bathed her features. her eyes glistened, reflecting the stars. hands delicately mused, fingers interwinned, softly caressing the other hand. her chest rose up and down, inhaling midnight air, fueling her lungs with the pure atmosphere that surrounded her figure. 

dreams always felt surreal. but when she was in them? they went beyond that. xavier stretched his hand towards her. slowly, his fingertips grazed her shoulder. and then he saw. 

his vision suddenly flooded with flashing memories. dazzling blue lights, very muffled chattering, hands, lips, figures, were all his senses were taking in.

4:39 AM

xavier woke up covered in sweat once again. the sun wasn’t up yet. dim light from the stars came through his window. 

he hadn’t been thrilled about going home for summer holidays. he thought he’d be staying at ajax’s or be sent to a summer camp. he would’ve liked that. but his father had kept him home. all. fucking. summer. and then the dreams started to appear. the first one, he doesn’t even remember. he just brushed it off. but then they continued appearing. and he found himself enhanced. for almost two months, he’d drawn the girl from his dreams. wether it were only sketches of herwaist, or doodles of herparted lips. he even had an unfinished painting of her moonlit face in a big canvas. anybody who had seen his latest pieces would’ve thought he was a stalker. he was just trapped in his house. it only conforted him  how close the beginning of the new school year was. 

back at nevermore, xavier felt at ease again. getting back on track carried an euphoric feeling for him. settling everything in his dorm, catching up with ajax and rowan, cleaning his art shed, it all gave him a sense of belonging that he wouldn’t change for anything. the dreams even went away.

and, in one of his conversations, he found out. about your arrival. though, at first, he paid no mind to it. ajax had said something about two transfer students incorporating this year.

“yeah, one of them will be here in a couple days. i heard the other’s application is still pending or something like that” rowan added. 

“damn, does everyone know but me?” he said. he meant it as a joke, but, deep down, he was worried he’d been living under a rock the whole summer.

“it’s not that big of a deal” ajax shrugged “but most likely.”

xavier groaned and mentally face-palmed himself. he could’ve checked enid’s blog. idiot. 

✩✩✩✩

meanwhile you were talking to principal larissa weems alongside your parents. the woman before you had an elegant and intimidating beauty and her words came out graceful and confident. 

she’d explained how the school worked, what the classes consisted in and the insitute’s norms. your parents were delighted with weems, relieved she would be in charge of your security and safety. she seemed trustworthy. she inspired comfort, but also discipline and respect. 

“now, now, y/n, it is time for you to meet your roommate and she will give you a tour around school. i’ll leave you sometime with your family to say your goodbyes” weems spoke with a warm smile. 

your parents nodded and thanked her as she escorted you out of her office. 

✩✩✩✩

as you were seeing your parents’ car drive away, a presence approached you. you turned around to meet a girl with chestnut, shoulder lenght hair and pale blue eyes. 

“hey! you must be y/n. i’m divina, your roommate” she gave you an enchanting smile as she offered her hand.

“charmed to meet you” you smiled back as you shook her hands.

“i think your belongings have already been moved into our dorm, so let’s take a look at the school first, shall we?” she asked, linking your arm with hers as you nodded, delighted. 

✩✩✩✩

xavier was working on his latest project very near the quad. it had been half his and half weems’s idea. a mural adorning one of the walls adjacent to the quad. his mind ran free as he painted some details in a crow. 

as he changed some of his used brushes for clean ones, his eyes scanned the quad. some girls chatting in a bench nearby, a group of gorgons in the back of the quad, and then his eyes made their way towards two moving figures. 

was that divina? she indeed was. and she was talking to a girl, who was looking for something in her bag. she was not wearing the uniform. she must have been one of the transfers. xavier stopped whatever he was doing to take a proper look at the pair. 

as the new girl found what she was looking for, her face now exposed, xavier realised. it was you. the girl he’d been dreaming of all summer. too shocked to react, he could only watch you walk away towards thelxiepeia hall. 

✩✩✩✩

september passed by faster than everyone had wanted. 

you and divina had become quite close and she’d introduced you to bianca, yoko, enid and kent. you’d even thrown a slumber party at your shared dorm; the girls helped you settle in and decorate your side.

xavier, on the other hand, had been thinking of how to approach you, if he even should. he hadn’t wanted to be affected by it, not wanting to start the neverending cycle this past summer had been, filled with incognitas about you. but the dreams came back. and they were different. you actually spoke to him in this new dreams. nothing that he could comprehend though. sometimes you spoke in unsolveable riddles, sometimes in a language he couldn’t understand. 

“it is time for you to make the very first project of this semester” professor Cross, horror literature’s teacher anounced, earning a groan from all the students. “it could’ve been an exam, no need to be so dramatic. the couples assigned and the book assigned for each are displayed on the classroom door. have nice evenings!” and with that, he vanished from the class. 

you and bianca made your way towards the door. she was the only one from your friend group who had horror literature in this period. 

“i’m up here and you, oh here!” she pointed at your names.

she got paired with a girl named iris. your name was written nexto to ‘xavier thorpe’. 

“it’s perfect that i got Lovecraft. i mean, i’ve loved him since i was merely in the womb. i spent all summer reading-” bianca was rambling about lovecraft before you interrupted her.

“hey, b, who is xavier thorpe?” you asked her, fidgeting with a sticky note in which you’d written his name along with ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’. 

“you know that kid who’s painting a mural in the quad? that’s him. i think he’s super good at literature , so you’re gonna ace this” she responded, walking you to the quad.

as you and her were about to start a conversation as to which outfit you should choose for your girls’ evening out, someone catched up to you. 

“hey, you’re y/n, right?” a tall boy, with sharp features and long hair, asked, locking eyes with you.

you felt a sensation of déjà vu run through you as you could only nod, enhanced by his figure. 

“i’m xavier” the boy smiled. “we are partners for this project, so, um, maybe you want to schedule for some days to work on it?”

“sure, sure” you reciprocated the smile, taking in the way his made you feel. “i’ll catch you later, bi” you said to your friend as she nodded and walked away. 

“so, uh, when are you free?” he asked as you turned back to him. “for the project, i mean”

“i think i have this afternoon free, and next one as well, if it works for you” you spoke.

you sounded exactly like what he’d dreamt. your silk soft voice reverberating in his ears, sending goosebumps down his body.

“sounds perfect. library, 4pm?” xavier said, observing your features in the sun, rather than the moonlight, admiring you. not a product of his imagination. just you. 

✩✩✩✩

xavier got to the library at the very time he’d told you. scanning the place, he finally found your figure. your bag was placed in a chair, and you were browsing through the shelves, looking for some books. 

“hey” he greeted. 

words caught up in your throat when you looked at him. he loved the way your eyes fluttered around, finally settling down on his.

“hi” you responded. “so. i’ve been collecting a few books about poe, you know, so we can make a deep analysis on the piece”

“cool, cool. i feel like the old man has a lot of connotations-” he started.

“wait you’ve read the tell-tale heart?” you asked, smiling. you loved poe’s works.

“yeah, everyone should” he chuckled. “i find poe inspiring. all of his horror pieces itch all the right places in my brain” he shrugged, licking his lips.

“i love poe too. i went to a summer camp this summer about him and it wa...” 

xavier let your words run through his mind as he focused on your excited expression, talking about something you were so keen on.

both of you sat now next to each other, rambling about nonsense, enjoying the other’s company, your assignment long forgotten. 

✩✩✩✩

and so the two of you had to meet again the next day and over the weekend, rushing your assignment.

but neither of you minded it. you grew closer, learning about each other. xavier found out about your passion for astronomy and your connection to the night. and you learnt about his relationship with his dad and his coping mechanism: painting. you’d even seen some of them, and you were captivated by them.

 he showed you his ability and he’d swear your reaction was his favorite thing ever. how your eyes widened in suprise, lips parted slightly, an amazed smile making its way.

and he told you about his visions. he trusted you enough. 

✩✩✩✩

“and, you know, sometimes i have dreams, but they’re real. the people, the creatures are real” he said, almost a whisper. 

you two were walking around the school’s surroundings, october’s cold breeze hitting your rosy cheeks. 

“like visions?” you asked

“sort of. the scenarios are barely real, but the people i see are. and lately, this girl has been appearing”

“is she a sleep nymph? i heard of them once, they’re pretty cool” he could feel your eyes piercing him as he looked forward.

“no, no, i don’t think she is. at first i thought she was just something i imagined, but then i saw her” he looked down at you as he spoke. 

“what were your dreams like?” you softly posed the question.

“i saw her, laying down under the stars. i could only see her in a blue palette. and then, i saw her memories. and i just can’t get her out of my head” 

you went quiet. he feared he’d scared you, and he was about to start rambling apologies when you stopped walking and took his hand. 

“xavier?” you looked up at him “am i the girl that you dream of?”

his heart skipped a beat. he wanted the ground to swallow him. he couldn’t scape.

“how’d you know?”

“i’ve been seeing you too. in the stars.”

he stared at you blankly. so he hadn’t creeped you out. he finally reacted, smirking.

his hands made his way to your face, holding your cold cheeks. you looked up at him, hands around his neck. he wanted that moment, that sight to last forever.

he leaned down and kissed you for an instant. he pulled away, just to watch your features before you pulled him down and kissed him again, loving the feeling of his lips on yours, like they were made for each other. 

[heavilykaffeinated]

Okay I’ve had a good day to contemplate this shit- let’s do this. I’m going to start with the fact that I found tsats aggressively disappointing- if you have an issue with that, leave now.

Addressing the highly debated concept of Will and Nico being incredibly OOC- I 100% agree. That doesn’t mean that teenagers don’t change, but they took away so much of both Will and Nicos personalities. Will genuinely lost so much- he used to be a very fun and honest enjoyable character even under stress, but we didn’t get any of that. While I like the concept of Will being rather uninformed and having a really hard time in the underworld, it was overdone and Shoved Down Our Throats from the beginning. That whole scene when Will was talking to Persephone??? (That’s an ENTIRE other post lmk if you want that) He just kept being like ‘ew this place that’s clearly special to you? Yucky.’ He insisted on going on a quest with Nico (which other people were clearly more well suited for,) then proceeded to insult Nico’s second home quite often. It’s like Riordan and Oshiro squished his character and made him two dimensional.

As for Nico, he’s missing a lot. I understand coming to terms with some trauma and your personality changing, (which is literally what the entire book is about) but it’s so extreme. They took the Nico out of Nico. This boy would never come out to an entire camp in some huge display to ask a boy out. Come on.

Uhm PERCY AND ANNABETH??? Bruh what was that scene??? Though the whole page 69 thing was amusing- they were just like Oopsie Poopsie We Fucked Up but you get to deal with it have fun 🤩. (Again, that whole scene was really OOC and an entire other post)

Uh oh the big one- the really weird queer rep. Before y’all come at me, I’m gay as hell, this shit isn’t new. Anyway, it felt really forced. The queer rep in ToA was amazing because it was casual and normal- this was not that. Why were demons coming out to them. Tf. The acceptance subplot is amazing in theory, but again, it was Shoved Down Our Throats. It’s like they slapped a rainbow sticker on the book and suddenly it’s supposed to be amazing. It felt shallow and artificial.

What on earth was Will doing down there??? Think about it- we have Hazel, Reyna, and a few other characters who were either not mentioned or barely mentioned who would have been better suited to the underworld.

Will and Nicos relationship felt really toxic and superficial- I get that it’s their first relationship and it’s not going to be perfect, but they were arguing the whole time, they had no chemistry, and they seemed like they hated each other.

On a similar note, this book lost the whole Acceptance thing from the other people Nico loves. HAZEL??? REYNA??? APOLLO??? They were all left out, and any mention of them felt like a rushed afterthought.

Another big one- the trauma motif. (Again speaking as a biatch with ptsd) Nico was scarily self aware- this whole book is supposed to be about Nico growing and being a kid, yet it was always Trauma Trauma Trauma Childhood Trauma, and he was aggressively self aware- there was no growth there. Things like that take time- and that wasn’t represented. It was like somebody snapped their fingers and Nico became a really angsty self aware therapist.

The conflict of the book felt half baked. Literally why did Nyx care. I don’t know. Does she? There wasn’t much action. (except for the dream sequences, those were good.) Tartarus didn’t feel dangerous or scary. I liked the idea of the Cocoa Puffs, but that also felt half baked. Instead of being like ‘these are literally you’ Nyx was like ‘these are your children lmao 🫃👶👶👶’ that storyline had so much potential but it didn’t really work out.

The whole damn thing read like fanfiction. It felt like Twitter fan service

Also Will was ignored??? This book was supposed to be about Nico and Will, but it ended up being just Nico. I wanted to see anxiety Will :(

Rick Riordan has done really well creating engaging middle reader books in the past, but this felt very Fourth Grade Learn About Gay People And Trauma.

Overall, there were good parts to the book, but I didn’t like it. The entire thing felt half baked and two dimensional. I’m going to reread some of Riordans work, and read some of Oshiros books to try to find the disconnect.

[vrmxlho]

Hi hiiii ? How was your day ? Can I please request an hq fluff with sakusa and Osamu ? In which they are flustered by their crush before confessing ? Thankssss and take care <333

i’m good, how are you? i love my lil babies aww jaskfldhg p.s. please tell me who your pfp is they’re so hawt 🫣 +++ sorry i’m only getting back to you now i hope you enjoy this at least 😭😭 ++++ i’m unsure if this is even what you meant 😞

cw: swearing + mention of disease in a love confession????? + NOT PROOFREAD + ooc (i'm sure of it) + one (1) mention of death

KIYOOMI SAKUSA 佐久早 聖臣

he never thought that he out of anyone would ever get flustered or even confess for that matter

nobody had ever caught his attention or interest

until you

the two of you were classmates

he was the quiet type while you were the slightly annoying talkative type

but he didn’t mind, he liked having some background noise for his thoughts

yet, he started growing attached to your constant rants and talks

how you’d ask him if he was alright, not because you wanted him to pay more attention to you, but because you were genuinely worried that he wasn’t okay

how you’d bring snacks with you every time you saw him

and how you started coming to his volleyball matches, standing in the stands (lmao) with a banner for his team

he wished you’d only cheer for him, “but you can’t always win” he thought

even the thought of telling you he liked your company, let alone the fact that he was in love with you, made him feel his heart palpitate excessively

it felt like he had just completed the most strenuous volleyball reps in his career

at first he thought he was just getting out of shape

“why is my heart not able to handle walking up the stairs???” he thought

and then he proceeded to start working out an extra hour a week to strengthen his heart

this obviously did nothing because every time he saw you he felt like he was about to faint

his heart felt full and he was sure its beating could be heard

he searched up the symptoms and even went to a doctor until the doctor was like???

“boy you have a crush stop wasting my mfing time”

and it all started to make sense

he liked you, so he’ll let you know

right????

wrong

now that he’s realised his emotions, he’s literally avoiding you, as in running away from you

this was all until he realised you were sad not seeing him as much as you used to 

so he built up the courage to tell you

“y/n, can we talk?” "oh so now you wanna talk??" you weren't actually mad, but you liked seeing him a bit grumpy, the way he would frown slightly and pout while looking away slightly was a sight to behold. he was rarely this expressive. "it's important." he was still looking away but this time his frown had softened, his pout had now transformed into him just biting his lip slightly. he looked almost...sad. "is everything okay?" he didn't reply to this but you could see him gulping and his ears going bright red. oh, you know what this means. he's nervous. "you know you can tell me anything, right?" you press on while reaching your hand out. but to this he flinched and pulled away; you could see his whole face burning red, his eyes wide and his eyebrows shooting up. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" "oh, i'm sorry..." you gave him a confused look, you still weren't mad at his sudden rudeness but you were really concerned as to what was going on. "no. i'm sorry i stopped talking to you. and for what i did right now...it's just..." his voice kept getting quieter and you didn't know how much longer you could keep this distance because you literally felt deaf in that moment. and because he looked so damn cute with his red face. "i feel like i'm dying when i'm with you." this was the first time you frowned at him. what the fuck does that even mean?? this was possibly the worst insult you had ever gotten. and it was from the person you really liked. you could feel your heart drop, and your eyes were already stinging with tears. "um..." "no, no i didn't mean it like that!" he was panicking now, his hands waving trying to prove his innocence, his face just kept getting redder and redder and he looked like he genuinely wanted to cry. "i want to die when i'm with you because-" "OKAY! I GOT IT DAMN!" you felt him tug at your arm as you turned to walk away. the next thing you felt was him hard chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. "because my heart only beats for you and it's rotting my internal organs." he was still blushing like a maniac and you could feel his heart beat hit your own body. but all you could do was giggle. this was 100% the funniest encounter you'd ever had with him. and you were glad. so so glad. the happiest you'd ever felt in so long. you wanted to stay like this till death separated you. you wanted to stay in his arms forever. "that was so gross."

OSAMU MIYA 宮 治

he always feels like he misses you

he's in a constant state of longing

even when you're sat right beside him

in the same room, in the same class, talking to each other even

maybe it wasn't that he missed you, maybe he just wanted something more, different

osamu wasn't the brightest when it came to emotions so perhaps he was just feeling something else...

this obviously never hit him until atsumu asked him if you were dating

to which he got all flustered and was a fucking mess

"no of course not!? i don't like y/n like that!!"

he's insane...

what does he mean he doesn't like you

he thought of you every second of the day

from the moment he laid eyes on you

everything, every instance has been about you – you don't just matter, you are... everything

once he finally intellectualised this information everything made him nervous

he was scared to move too quickly, scared to move too slowly, scared of looking bad in your eyes and scared of appearing boastful and arrogant

he wanted to tell you but he also didn't

he resorted to rehearsing his confession in front of the mirror every night after atsumu fell 'asleep'

(he heard everything and told you, trust)

but when the day finally came, you were so prepared to make him work for that answer

he could confess all he wanted but all you really cared for was to make a mess of him

****you laugh maniacally*****

you were talking to your friends when he came up to you. you knew exactly how it was going to go. it would start with him taking you to the side. "y/n, i've been meaning to tell you this for a long time." him cutely apologising for being so abrupt. "i'm really sorry, but please don't interrupt." and a guarantee that it'll be swift "i promise it'll be quick." "what is it? you're worrying me." you wanted to start off simple. you were already off-script but this should be easy enough you thought. "nothing too serious. just. just hear my out for a sec..." "ok." "y/n, the time we've spent together has been amazing. the things we've done, the memories we have it's all just great. and i think i'm ready to you know." "are you breaking up with me?" that'll get him. "WHAT?!" he blurted out a bit too loudly that it made you back away a bit. his face was pale, something you didn't expect at all. "you know, i really liked you. but i guess i can't force you to stay with me." little did he know that you had been practicing too. you had perfected your fake cry and you were very prepared to use it. "what... no please. i love you, please i didn't mean-" "all men are the same." you were trying so so hard not to laugh but it was getting hard. his face was bright red and he kept reaching his hands out to you before recoiling, unsure if you wanted him around at all. "y/n, please wait. i- i'm so confused." "so be it! i'm so sick of you!" "WAIT! THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING I'LL EVER DO, BEFORE PROPOSING!" he honestly looked like he was going to pass out. as soon as those words came out he slapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes widened to the size of volleyballs. "proposing?" you had gone far too off script. you felt bad. you didn't know how to respond at all. "when i look at you i can feel it. i look at you and i'm at home. i'll never feel this way about anyone, because you are my one and only. i love you." "oh, this was so much better than the confession you had planned."

taglist: @https-true-egoist @cyno-luvr @aiethereal-xx

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 2.1

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU) [mentions of todoroki family]

chapter summary: In which Touya finally reveals how his spiral to darkness began (how he became an alcohol- and cigarette-dependent)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

Shouto visited him, of all people. It nerved the shit out of Touya. Of all people. Of. All. Damn. PEOPLE.

He half-expected their mom or Fuyumi or Natsuo, at least (or even their shitty father since he had become clingy as of late and constantly asked about his welfare at the treatment center, per Natsuo's letter.) After all, they kept begging him to let them visit him a few months ago, and just when he said they could go, he didn't know Shouto would be the first family member he would see in a while.

"My bad. Maybe I should've imitated Natsu-nii's hair or dressed up like Fuyumi-nee to make you feel better," Shouto remarked, aware that Touya would've wanted to see them first before him.

Touya could only cringe, imagining Shouto acting like their other two siblings. It's not the best thing to see in real life. "Please don't," he muttered awkwardly.

Shouto nodded, grabbing something from his pocket and sliding it towards Touya on the table. "I heard going cold turkey is difficult, so I thought this would do."

Touya incredulously stared at the object, his frown curving more and more at his brother's foul mouth and silly antics. He couldn't believe this was the boy he raised for quite a while back then.

Should've toned down my sarcasm back when he was young.

"It's fake cigarette. You can even eat it," Shouto revealed.

"I know that. I can clearly see what this is, Shouto," Touya retorted. Seriously, is he making fun of him right now?

"Just making sure, in case you're running out of options to satisfy your cigarette addiction." Afterwards, Shouto brought out a bag of beer-shaped candies and gave it to him. "And I heard you also drank a lot so..."

Touya groaned in exasperation. What the fuck is he pulling? What's with this shit?! "Do you really think you can solve my alcohol and cigarette issues just by giving me candy?"

Shouto shrugged. He didn't know what to do, to be honest. He was just suddenly told by Fuyumi and Natsuo that they had urgent matters to attend to so he had to be the one to visit their oldest sibling. He just didn't anticipate he would act this way.

"Well... I could... indirectly... as a source of your cravings... you can munch on them—"

"ARGH! I've had enough!" Touya stood and slammed his fists on the table, embarrassed with Shouto's point of view and solution for his issues. God, why did he have to have a brother like this? Is he really the masterpiece their father has been prancing around like a trophy?

Shouto awkwardly looked away, running out of options to appease Touya. It wasn't like he hadn't seen him prior to this. He met Touya back when he was doing carpentry and when they talked for the first time, the oldest couldn't be bothered to accommodate him, like he really didn't want to talk to him at all. He was even so rude that he smoked in front of him and didn't care if he was the secondhand receiver of his cancerous stick. That's why, talking to him again like this, he had little hope that Touya would be a bit nicer in a way.

Like when he would take him to Sekoto Peak in secret.

"Hey," Touya called his attention. "Have you taken Fuyumi-chan and Natsu-kun to Sekoto Peak yet?"

Shouto was stunned, speechless at his question but nonetheless happy. Happy that he remembered. Happy that Touya still held his end of the promise, that the four of them would go there. For so long, he went there alone, not taking his two siblings on purpose because Touya wasn't there. And now that he was here...

"I haven't."

Touya was only quiet, sighing as he scratched the back of his head. He wasn't used to this. Then again, he was his oldest brother.

"I'll see what I can do," he said while looking away from him in embarrassment. "Well, after this treatment, that is."

"Is that... your graduation gift for me?" Shouto meekly asked.

Graduation? Touya narrowed his eyes in confusion until it hit him. Of course, damn brat's already nearing graduation. He's 18, for fuck's sake.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you call it."

On that day, Shouto had been his happiest.

------

"When did you start drinking?"

"15."

The therapist took note of the age. Too young. Too young to drink. Too young to get drunk. Too young to be exposed to things he shouldn't be exposed to. Too young to grow up. Too young to mature.

"How did it happen?"

Touya recalled seeing a few senpais from the other building, having fun in one of the secluded rooms, merrily laughing like they had heard or seen the funniest thing ever. The 15-year-old Todoroki Touya was curious, wondering what it was until one of them motioned for him to enter their threshold, unbeknownst to him that this would mark his welcome to hell. They urged him to have a happy drink because he was always so serious, "lighten up," they would say.

Touya recalled how bitter it tasted, scrunching up his face in disgust, questioning on how it could be a 'happy drink' when it wasn't delicious enough. But then, they encouraged him further, until the bitter taste was nothing on his tongue and the name finally made sense. His inhibitions had been worn down, and all he could do was laugh and laugh and be numb. No one at home knew that he drank that day as he went straight to the toilet and washed up all traces of alcohol. It never happened. He never drank. He just went to school like usual. That was all.

"How about smoking?"

"I learned it on my own during high school."

"Why?"

Touya shrugged. Why did he? He honestly didn't know. One day, he just felt that urge creeping onto him, the urge to do something worse. It's not like he was slacking off. He was still getting those damn high grades. He never went absent from school unless there were important family matters to attend to. He managed to become the good son, but not the favorite. He was still the top student in their grade. He thought it would never get worse than this.

Like any first-timers, Touya had a rough start with smoking. He was coughing the entire time, still not giving up on his first try as he tried to inhale and exhale smoke the right way. It took him a few tries before he got hit by the nicotine, finally mastering the proper technique and being able to understand why a lot of people smoke when they get stressed. Since then, he would sneak out and smoke somewhere no one would know, preferably the school rooftop. Sometimes, he would be careless and take a hit in their family garden, ensuring to take his own trash out so no one would know.

Ah, but he became a bit careless once. He left his empty pack of cigarettes in one of his pants and one of the maids immediately reported it to Enji. So when he went home that day, the house was suddenly so quiet, like eerily quiet as his siblings sat on the living room sofa with Enji on the armchair holding the empty cigarette box. The next thing, he was getting slapped with Fuyumi trying to go between them, but to no avail. Touya received the worst beating of his life, and this scarred him the most to this day, locking himself in his bedroom and refusing to speak with anyone even when there was food left at his doorstep. Well, he did allow Fuyumi to enter as she was insisting on healing his wounds.

"Fuyumi-chan is so nice," Touya commented. "She's so nice, she should've been the favorite child."

"Why do you say so?" his therapist countered.

"Fuyumi-chan had always made sure to keep the family in check. Mother wasn't there anymore. She was sent to a mental ward after burning Shouto's face with boiling water," Touya answered. "Fuyumi-chan had always known that all things went south, but she would act like the responsible older sibling, making sure there would be no conflicts, no arguments, and even if there were, she would be quick to cover everything up."

"Touya-nii," she called his name, placing everything back in the first aid kit.

"What?" he spat bitterly, not wanting to hear any rubbish lecture, especially from her and her two goody-good pretentious shoes.

"Please don't destroy yourself further," she begged, her voice a mere whisper. "I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you. I don't want to lose you or anyone else." And now, Fuyumi was crying. Great. Just fucking great. She was crying because of him, snot and tears mixing up as she kept them together. "Please, Touya-nii," she hissed. "I beg of you. Just please. Please. Please. For us."

"What would you know?" Touya shot at her, dismissing her sobs even though he knew she was just worried. "You and Mother had it all easy. All the women in this house just stood in silence. You can't even fight. Grandma even sold Mother to Father for their marriage, right?"

"T-Touya-nii—"

"That's why we're all here, isn't it?" Fuyumi tried to reach for his hand but he just retracted it from her, glaring at her so hard with sarcasm. So much for being the best sister he could have. He shouldn't mock her efforts or belittle the things she did. "We're all here to be his successor until we weren't. We're failed creations, Fuyumi-chan. Get that shit in your brain, okay?"

He hasn't still apologized to Fuyumi for that after these years.

------

In the next session, Touya tells his therapist about the day he ran away, and the day he decided to abandon the Todoroki family. This was the start of him entering hell, according to him as his therapist readied his notebook to write the important details. After the cigarette incident, Enji would be watchful of his movements, and it was so evident that Touya could feel a lot of his teachers monitoring him, even disguising it as 'asking where he was going' even though he knew they would tell on him to his father. He would feel himself raging internally at this point, the darkness in him caged yet ready to burst any minute.

Great! I can't drink alcohol. I can't smoke a damn cig. Just. Fucking. GREAT!

He couldn't concentrate on his studies. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't function. Fuck, he was a slave to his own vices. He could feel himself dying without them already. And because of that, he would readily snap at people approaching him, may it be out of sheer good will or not. Touya did not give a fuck anymore. He was itching to destroy something—anything—no, no—anyone, someone—IT. WAS. THE. LAST. STRAW.

One of the school's delinquents decided to kick his desk and make fun of him, probably to get some cold hard cash because he thinks he's so powerful, bullying other kids who got no power over him. Touya was only nonchalant, minding his own business as he stared at the view from the window.

"Oi, Todoroki! Did you go deaf or something? I said—"

"Fuck off," Touya replied, still not looking their way.

The delinquent clicked his tongue in annoyance, pulling Touya up by his collar as he gritted his teeth. "You shit. You think you're so great just because you're dirty rich and all that crap?"

Touya only smirked. "So what? Can't handle my life being greater than yours?"

The delinquent only stared hard, narrowing his eyes angrily before letting go of Touya and saying, "At least I don't have a mother who's some kind of lunatic. Who knows? Maybe your sister's a psycho as well?"

And the next thing, there was a brawl in the hallway; more like a one-sided brawl as Touya pinned the delinquent down on the ground and punched him like there was no tomorrow, cold and bloody gaze on him that silently screamed murder. His pleas for help and stop were falling on Touya's deaf ears, uncaring if people were to brand him a monster for what he did. The fucker deserved it for being so careless with his words. He should've just shut his trap. He should've just not mentioned his mom or Fuyumi. The nerve of him. Imbecile.

The punching only ceased when the teachers came and the head principal decided to suspend Touya for 2 weeks before his graduation, much to everyone's chagrin as he almost killed his classmate. Of course, Enji was immediately called about the situation, and the moment they set foot inside the house, he took no time punching Touya in the face.

"Is that what you are now, huh?" Enji's hardened gaze was on him, emotionless and unwavering. "A fucking delinquent? Are you so hopeless you want to beat the shit out of anyone?"

Touya wiped off the blood from his mouth as he heard footsteps from his siblings down the hall. He couldn't look at them, especially at Fuyumi. Nonetheless, he also held his own at his father, not giving a damn if he was angry at what he did.

"Have you no shame for what you did, Touya? You're an embarrassment to this family."

Now that was Touya's turn to scoff, spitting out in front of him rudely. "How about you? Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Beating me up? Being the reason Mom was sent to the hospital? Casting us aside because of Shouto?"

Enji held a breath, his glare getting fiercer the more Touya meets it with his sarcasm. He raised his hand to slap him in the face, only for Touya to react with: "Go on. Hit me. Hit me like you always did. That's the only thing you were good at anyway."

That's when Enji stopped his ministrations, resisting the urge to choke those words out of his son and have him swallow them all back. They stared at each other for a long time before Touya trudged down to his bedroom and packed up a few of his important belongings. He has no idea where he'll go after this or what he's gonna do. He doesn't know, and he doesn't care. He needed to leave this goddamn place. His siblings would understand him. This wasn't easy for him, after all.

The three of them trailed behind him as Touya put on his shoes, their pleas for him to stay were hurting him more and more. He could never stay, not when Enji's around, not when this house was reminding him every time that he had no reason to be born in this world. He looked back at the three of them briefly before exiting the main house and sliding the door shut.

And afterwards, he buried the name Todoroki Touya, dyed his hair black, and went by the name Dabi.

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