#I’m pretty sure for a while I thought he was a lady

[shadowqueenjude]

I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS ELAIN DAY UNTIL NOW SO HERE IS A LITTLE SOMETHING I JUST WROTE:

Smile, Elain. They won’t like you if you’re cold.

Elain blew out a long hard breath through her mouth as their mother’s words came back to her. Moira Archeron had never had much time for her, always busy doting on her eldest. This had left Elain to run into her father’s arms, who had been more than happy to indulge her. Alwyn Archeron had never received much love from his first-born, too pre-occupied with their mother and grandmother as she had been, so Elain seeking parental love in him was a pleasant surprise.

While Elain knew how demanding Moira could be, at least she was invested in Nesta’s success. At least she believed in her, guided her, hoped she would be something. When it came to Elain, her advice was minimal; she mostly stuffed Elain into pretty, suffocating dresses, pulled her hair up tightly into a bun, and hissed at her to smile. Elain very much felt like a prize horse on display.

“Do you think I will marry well, Mama?” Elain had once asked. Moira had merely looked down at her, those eyes- the same eyes as Nesta- frigid as the winter snow. “Of course, Elain. You have a fine face and build, and you have grace. Some man ought to take a fancy to you.” She made a face. “The same cannot be said for your wild sister, I’m afraid.”

Feyre. She had always been the black sheep of the family. She had always been a little too wild, a little too free for their mother’s taste. While Moira put minimal effort for Elain, there was no attention given to Feyre. Elain tried to help her. She would brush her hair and put it into braids and make sure she wore her corset, and when she could, Elain tried to play with her. One time, Elain fell and twisted her ankle while trying to climb a tree with Feyre. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to try and climb in a dress, but she owned no pants unlike Feyre.

Mother had been absolutely furious; though surprisingly not at her, but rather at Feyre for “dragging her into this.” It was as if Moira didn’t view Elain as capable of making her own decisions.

Well, not much has changed, then, Elain thought bitterly to herself.

Graysen had been the only one to see her. He’d told her that her kindness was the most beautiful thing about her, not her face or her body. Elain had fallen hard and fast. It all ended bitterly when Elain was thrown into that cauldron. But now, looking back on it, Elain wondered if she had simply latched onto the first person to see her for more than just a pretty face.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, Elain sighed once more. She hadn’t had much luck here in the Night Court either. They loved Feyre and although they disliked and lacked trust for Nesta, they still respected and valued her more than Elain. They had sicced a couple of wraiths to spy on her like some kind of toddler in need of monitoring. Rather than call them out on it (Elain didn’t see the point in arguing with people who could kill her), she had simply won them over with her charm, turning Nuala and Cerridwen to her side. Although the beginning of their friendship was strange, eventually they became true friends.

But although Elain enjoyed their company, they were not reason enough to stay in this place. She would never have a place here. And much as she had been avoiding him, there was only one person who could get her out of here.

Elain closed her eyes to calm her body. Just being near her mate drew out feelings she wanted to hide away forever. It was cowardly of her, but Elain didn’t want to face it: how very much faerie she was now, how much of her humanness had been lost.

How much he affected her.

He drove her mad simply by being in the same room. She was afraid he could read her every desire on her face, or feel it with his faerie senses. She wondered if he had sensed it the nights when she’d woken up from a very scandalous dream of the two of them together.

A lady mustn’t have these thoughts.

It wasn’t as if Elain was unfamiliar with the marital act. She had performed it, even if it was just once. Graysen had insisted, begging and pleading her, and Elain, convinced they would be married soon and swept up by the romance of it all, had obliged. It was only afterwards that Elain felt dirty, felt wrong, an overwhelming sense of guilt overtaking her. She should not have let Graysen push her into it. It was the first and last time she had raised her voice on him.

“You have taken my purity from me!” Elain had shrieked, beyond hysterical. Tears were heavy down her face, and she knew she had to be red. Graysen, to his credit, looked abashed, but it was all too little too late.

“Elain-“

“I did not enjoy it,” she whispered. Her voice broke. “That was not how I imagined it would be.”

He had been too rough, too impatient, and he had only lasted about a minute or two. Elain knew little about sex, but even she knew that it ought not to be like that.

“You…did not enjoy it?” Graysen asked hesitantly.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?!!!” Elain snarled. “Not the way you have violated me?”

“I did not violate you-“

“YOU INSISTED THAT I DO THIS BEFORE MARRIAGE! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

Elain had run away, run to the one person who she knew would protect her at all costs, the person who had been more a mother to her than her actual mother.

“Nessie,” Elain had sobbed. Nesta’s sharp blue eyes had widened in concern at Elain’s words. She immediately rushed over to her, grasping her shoulders. “Elain! Are you alright?”

She shook her head, pressing her forehead against Nesta’s shoulder. Nesta wrapped her arm around her, rubbing soothing circles against her back. “Want to talk about it?”

Elain took shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself enough to explain. “Graysen-I-we-“ Another breath. “I let him take my maidenhood.”

Nesta’s other hand moved to stroke Elain’s hair. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Nothing else needed to be said.

That night, Nesta read her stories until Elain’s eyes became heavy and she fell asleep. They slept together on the same bed for the first time since the cottage. Although Elain typically liked her space while sleeping, she had to admit that she had missed this: the closeness, the easy comfort of sisterhood.

And now Nesta wanted nothing to do with her.

Elain clenched her fists. Moira Archeron would be shocked to see it, but she wasn’t alive to scold Elain. Elain had spent far too long being afraid to be angry, for fear of upsetting someone. But she was a sentient being, was she not? Was she not allowed to get angry, same as Feyre and Nesta?

Was she not allowed to feel desire, the same as Feyre with Rhysand or Nesta with Cassian?

When would she be allowed to live?

It was a long shot, but Elain knocked on the door to Lucien’s Velaris residence. He spent little time here, but Elain hoped he would be here this time.

To her relief, the door swung open a few moments later.

“Elain?” The surprise in Lucien’s handsome face quickly molded into something like…was that nervousness? He bowed low to her. “How may I be of service today, m’lady?”

Elain waved him off. “No need to be so formal, Lucien. I just have a request.”

His metal eye whirred as his brown eye studied her intently. “Anything.” And Elain knew he meant it.

“I want to explore the rest of Prythian and the continent.”

If Lucien was surprised at her request, he certainly did not show it. He merely opened the door a little wider, giving her room to enter his home. “Of course,” he replied. “When I leave tomorrow morning, you are welcome to come with me.”

Elain smiled in relief as she looked around his house. It was incredibly tasteful, mostly decorated in the colors orange, green, and blue. It was so much brighter than the interior of Rhysand’s palace, and far prettier too. She delicately settled down on the suede couch on one end of the living room, her heart buzzing with anticipation as she realized she would be leaving this place tomorrow.

@elainweekofficial

[quibbs126]

Random thing but did anyone else, upon first seeing Professor Sycamore, not know whether he was a man or a woman?

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2

[angel-sweets666]

Bakugos first time getting head

AGED UP!! Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader

warnings: smut,, jerking off, blowjob. Sort of a extension to hallway crush

AGED UP im talking like last year of UA 18 years old sort of aged up

A/N I realised people don’t really know me, so to make it easier my names angel and I go by she/her, I never really introduced myself, also this banner😍

sorry for disappearing I’m back now and I think the smut is kinda rushed sorry 😭😭😭

Katsuki never thought of loosing his virginity often, it never crossed his mind on a daily basis. He wasn’t like his idiot “friends” Denki, sero and kirishima who all had either lost their virginity or were planning on it, especially Denki when he would yap into katsukis ear about finding the perfect girl to plow into which often lead to bakugo getting up and leaving mid conversation.

but then there was you, you flicked a switch in his brain like no girl did before. Sure he had a huge crush on you like he’s never had a crush on a girl before, but he also had a lust for you. Katsuki would sit in class and stare at you from the corner of his eye while imagining bending you over his bed and stuffing you with his seed or thinking about dragging you to the bathrooms and fucking you in a stall ect, all thoughts lead to him asking aizawa to go to the bathroom because he’s got a massive boner he desperately wants to deal with.

And dealing with it would probably be the most pathetic (prettiest) thing ever. Katsuki would sit in the bathroom with his baggy pants and boxers pulled down and his hard sore cock up against the fabric of his shirt, poor boy would spit into his hand and stroke the length of it with a grumble and after a while he’d get desperate and just start fucking his fist, bucking his hips into his hand all while imagining it was you balls deep on his cock. You would be so pretty bouncing on his dick in the school toilets while he held your hips and buried his face in your tits with a grunt and if your lucky a whine.

but bakugo couldn’t just fuck you, not just randomly. You wouldn’t allow that, you have more pride than that.

So when you two started talking then started talking he was beyond happy, though he wouldn’t show it behind his usually stoic and aggressive personality.

One day you two were sitting together at the back of class, both of you bored out of your minds! Katsukis eyes wonder from the board to you.he admired how pretty you were from head to toe, his eyes lingered around your thighs… your soft pretty thighs… the blonde bit his lip before trying to distract himself.

not now not now not now.

The blonde looked back down at your thighs before looking up at your face, only to see you looking back at him “what are you looking at?” You giggled, teasing him a bit “hah? I can look at you if I wanna look at you” he grumbled and turned his attention back to the board “righttt…nice hard on by the way” you teased him again as you pulled at a lock of his ash blonde hair. Katsuki looked down to find himself beginning to get a boner “shit…” he whispered and raised his hand “oi can I go to the toilet?”

You watched katsuki get up and leave in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. You giggled with amusement, you’d never think you’d have that sort of reaction out of him, you two never did anything sexual as of right now, you didn’t think he had a interest in it. But from that moment you realised maybe he did and just didn’t wanna tell you. You gave it a couple minutes before raising your hand too

“Mr. Aizawa, can I go to the toilet? Lady problems,” you said with a grin, knowing full well he suspected what you were really up to. The exhausted man barely glanced up from his desk, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “I don’t care…” he muttered, waving you off dismissively.

You walked down the hallway, the silence broken only by the rhythmic clicking of your shoes against the polished floor. As you neared the boys' toilets, you paused and knocked lightly on the wall before calling out, “Katsuki? You in here?” . After a brief silence, you heard a response. “Y-yeah! I’m… ah- I’m okay. Piss off!” Katsuki shouted back, his voice strained, you could hear slight panting. “Am I interrupting something?” You cooed, trying to tease him “hmmph.., yes! Go away!” He again yelled out “oooookayyy…”

you stood by the door as if you knew what was gonna happen

“you still there?” He grumbled out to you “yep” you called back out “you were jerking off huh?” You giggled “shut the fuck up!” “It’s alright it’s normal!” he mumbled in response. After a while in silence you decided to tease him more “so did you cum?” “What the fuck?” You laughed in response, riskily walking into the boys bathroom. “Do you want some help..?” You asked him, the silence was loud.

and that’s how you found yourself on your knees infront of him in the stall while he pushed your head down on his dick “fuck.. that feels good…” he grumbled and pushed you felt the tip of his dick slide deeper down into your throat, you gagged a little due to his huge size. Bakugo felt a bit panicked as it was his first time even getting his first time getting head “shit too far? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he pulled your head off his cock with a loud pop “n-nope” you said as a bit of drool fell down your chin, a dopey grin on your face,

before you knew it katsuki was pushing your head down on his hard cock again “Mmmm.. good girl…” he pet your hair as he pulled at your hair to push you up and down on him. Just as kirishima said he should. The slow pleasure began to build up into frustration, bakugo held your head up as he began to fuck into your face

“A-ah fuck! Don’t get caught don’t get caught… mmmmph…. Such a good girl..”

all while you gagged as tears built up into your eyes, he was much bigger then you thought and you could barely breath with the cock in your mouth. katsuki pushed his whole shaft into your mouth and crossed the line, painting your throat white with his hot cum.

“fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk”

you pulled his softened dick out your mouth with a pop, swallowing the semen left in your mouth. The blonde stared down at you with short breath, panting softly. “Thank you..I’ve never done that.. before..” “it’s alright baby.. first time for everything”

“shut up….”

HAS EVERYONE SEEN THE MHA ENDING? IM SO SAD. GIVE ME THE PEN IM RE WRITING THAT, I DONT WANT MHA TO END

[emoreemadden]

hii! it’s been a while <3 anyways here’s a request from a friend.

Outline: Gojo doesn’t want to be your friend anymore and tells you straight to your face. Unfortunately, you take it the wrong way.

Content Warnings: fluff kinda?, angst ish???, miscommunication trope 😭 idk not many tags or warnings for this one. lmk if i missed anything

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, fem!reader

A/N: i was supposed to finish this WAYYYYYY sooner 😭 my bad… word count: 1815

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Gojo Satoru. An enigma for sure.

You both have been best friends for longer than you remember. Well, maybe best friends is the wrong term. You said you were best friends, but it didn’t feel that way. At least not to you.

Every time you saw Gojo, your heart would flutter. Perhaps it was normal, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you had some kind of feelings for him.

You just wished he felt the same.

“What’s wrong?” Gojo had noticed you’d been acting different recently. He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’re being weird.”

You shrug at him, trying to act normal. Even though you’ve always felt this way about him, you’ve only just now stopped bothering to hide it.

“I don’t know.” Your eyes flit to the ground. “Just tired, I guess.”

And Gojo, being the nice guy that he is, pulls you into a hug. It shouldn’t make you feel this way, like there’s butterflies in your stomach. But it does.

You’re conflicted between wanting to cry and wanting to hug him until you two became one.

“You should get some rest.” He suggests, pulling away and flashing you one of his cheery grins.

“I’ll try my best.” You smile back, though it’s not very passionate.

Gojo pats your head. There’s a pitiful look on his face. “Are you still down for lunch tomorrow?” He asks. Always so considerate, yet he’s never realized how you feel about him.

“Yeah, sure.” You try to up the dosage of your weary smile. “You still working on that surprise?” You ask. Gojo’s been planning this for weeks, teasing you about his “lunch date surprise.”

He grins cheekily. “‘Course I am.” His slender fingers fidget with his sleeves. “What kind of friend would I be to go back on my word?”

Friend.

The word taunts you like a bully, but you push the thought away. It’s all you’ll ever be, anyways. Friends.

You chuckle when you snap back to reality. “A pretty shitty one, I’d say.”

“Language, young lady.” He teases. You open your mouth to say something, but his phone rings.

“Sorry, I gotta go.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be prepared!” He looks giddy.

“Yep.” You reply tightly. “Bye, ‘Toru.” You wave as he walks away.

“Do I buy her flowers or something?” Gojo says to Suguru over the phone.

“You’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Why has it only occured to you now to get her flowers?” Suguru replies, and Gojo can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Well I don’t normally confess to my best friend-” Geto tuts before he can continue.

Gojo sighs. “Okay, girl best friend. Better?” He asks.

“No, but continue anyways.” There’s an awkward pause on Gojo’s part.

“I’m nervous.” Gojo finally admits. “I’m like, really nervous.”

Suguru chuckles. “Gojo Satoru, the strongest Sorcerer there is, is nervous to confess to a girl.” He says, his laugh getting louder. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh shut up, would you?” And Geto only laughs harder, his chuckle turning into full blown howling.

“Fuck off!” And with that, the call clicks off. Gojo sighs, shoving his phone in his pocket and falling back onto his bed.

“I’m screwed.”

You sit at the cafe Gojo had invited you too weeks prior, sighing as you stare at the clock.

“Where is he..?” You mutter to yourself.

Suddenly, as if on cue, he strides in as giddy as ever, looking around for a minute before spotting you and grinning.

“There you are!” He says as he sits down at the table with you. He’s sweating slightly, like he’s anxious.

You smile back at him, and immediately it feels like there’s a thorny rose in your belly, poking you from the inside. “Hey ‘Toru.”

He beams at you. “Did I keep you waiting long?” He asks, giving you an apologetic look for being a few minutes late.

You shake your head. “It’s alright. Now would you please tell me what your little surprise is?”

“Well I can’t give it away so easily!” He pouts playfully. “You haven’t even ordered.” He notes the empty table.

You sigh, before flagging down a waitress. “Can I please get two iced coffees?”

The waiter notes down your order and runs off, leaving you to stare at Satoru expectantly. “Yes I have.”

He tuts, rolling his eyes. “We’ll get to the surprise later. For now, tell me how your day is going.”

So you do. You two talk for a few minutes, and you practically forget about the surprise, until he reminds you.

“Alright, I’ll tell you your surprise now.” He says after the waitress leaves with Gojo’s order of a tiramisu cake and two spoons.

You perk up, curious to find out what he’s been alluding to for so long.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”

You can almost hear the sound of your heart crunching as he steps on it with his words.

“What?” You squeak, tears forming in your eyes.

Gojo stares at you, confused. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You swallow thickly, feeling bile rise in your throat. “But… why?” You feel your tears rolling down your cheeks.

Gojo is alarmed, staring at your crying face. “Why are you crying? Do you… not feel the same?”

You shake your head feverishly, about to open your mouth, but the waitress places down your cake before you can speak.

Gojo looks down at the cake and then back up at you, his expression dimming.

“So you want to be friends?” He asks, sounding heartbroken himself.

You nod, confused. “I thought you did too!” Your chest swells with hurt.

Gojo seems completely distraught. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. “…No.” He finally says, looking down at the ground.

You stand up from the table with your purse, placing down a few bills before sniffling, trying to wipe your eyes. “I’m going home.” You mumble, turning to leave.

Gojo just stares at you walk away, feeling his spirit burn. “Oh.” He whispers, looking down at the cake on the table.

You hop in your car, tears streaming down your face rapidly as you grip the steering wheel tightly. Your head collapses against the wheel and your body convulses as you sob, shaking like crazy.

You knew Gojo would never feel the same way about you as you did with him, but you thought you’d at least always be friends.

You whimper as you curl up into a ball in the driver's seat, too upset to drive.

Meanwhile, Gojo is inside the cafe, eating the cake silently while he stares at the second spoon.

He’s so confused. He had a sneaking suspicion that you’d reject his love for you, but he didn’t expect you to do it so heartlessly. You cried, for god’s sake! He hadn’t predicted for you to be so opposed to the idea of being more than friends with him.

He feels his heart clench when he remembers your face after he confessed. He sighs, finishing his desert before leaving the cafe defeatedly, his hands in his pockets as he walks home.

The second he opens his door, he collapses against it, sliding to his knees and curling into a ball. He thinks for a moment, before calling up Suguru.

“Have you done it yet? What did she say?” Is the first thing that comes out of Geto’s mouth when he picks up. The reminder of the whole debacle just makes Gojo even more sorrowful than he already was.

“She rejected me.” Gojo says solemnly. The air falls silent for a few moments.

Geto is the first to break the silence. “What did you say?” He finally asks.

Gojo sighs. “I said I didn’t want to be friends anymore.” He replies.

A beat of silence passes.

“And?” Geto urges.

Gojo, confused, replies. “And what?”

“And then what did you say?” He asks.

Still extremely confused, Gojo pauses. “…Nothing.” He says, a hint of uncertainty in his answer.

Geto, with a loud sigh, rolls his eyes. “Are you dumb?” He asks.

“Huh? What’d I do?!” Gojo frowns.

“You goddamn idiot, she probably thought you meant you didn’t want to be friends at all!” Suguru slaps his forehead, which is heard from Gojo’s end of the line.

“Because I don’t!” Gojo protests, now even more confused.

Suguru heaves with annoyance. “She thought you didn’t like her anymore, dumbass.”

Another beat of silence.

A wave of realization hits Gojo. “Oh, fuck.” Is all he says before hanging up and hopping to his feet, running out the door to go find you.

Luckily, on his run to your house, Satoru sees your car still parked outside of the cafe. Panting like a madman, he walks up to it and knocks on your passenger door window, startling you back into your surroundings.

Your eyes widen when you see Satoru awkwardly waving at you through your window. Your eyes are puffy and red from crying, which he notices.

He taps your window, as if to say ‘open up!”

You sniffle as you roll it down, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, I think you misinterpreted what I said back there.” He gestures to the cafe, his sentence broken up by loud, heavy breaths.

“Why are you so tired?” You ask in return.

“I ran here.” He replies, giving you a lazy grin before he continues with his explanation.

“When I said I didn’t want to be friends anymore, I meant because I want to be more than friends.” He begins, poking his head through your open window to get a little closer to you.

“I really, really like you.” He confesses, a light blush tinting his cheeks. “And I don’t want to be friends. I want to be your boyfriend.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, before letting out a breathy laugh. “Of course you screwed up like that.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as you smile.

He ignored your little jab. “So? What do you say?” He asks. “Please don’t reject me, I ran all the way here.” He begs.

You laugh again, rubbing your red eyes and unlocking your car door. “I don’t want to be friends either, Satoru.”

His eyes light up at your statement and he immediately throws the door open, fitting himself into the passenger seat before he turns to face you.

“Really, you mean it?” He asks excitedly, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You don’t?”

You smile. “Not at all.”

And with your confirmation, he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss, gently wiping your past tears as he does so.

He pulls back for a second to grin at you. “Thank god, because I was not ready to run all the way back home.” He jokes before going back to kissing you.

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LOVE EXPERT — NEUVILLETTE.

contents. established relationships, it’s literally just teaching neuvillette how to cuddle bc he doesn’t understand humans sobs :(, also idk how to write him yet. i apologize i tried my best. i’ll get it soon i swear

“come here,” you tug neuvillette by the arm, shuffling closer, “i want to try something.”

neuvillette, for all his brilliance, doesn’t understand human customs—you can’t help but find it hopelessly endearing.

he doesn’t understand the concept of bringing you flowers. you’ve never minded, never mentioned it until one day, lady furina teases that he’s never brought you so much as a single rose. he questions you that day, innocent and curious and just a bit confused, if it’s normal to gift flowers, if they mean anything special. so you chuckle, kissing between his brows as you explain to him. he brings you them regularly from then on.

one time, he notices a couple holding hands, eyeing their intertwined fingers and swinging arms—you watch in amusement as he studies them for a while, watch him simmer in his thoughts before you chuckle and grab his own hand, squeezing gently. he makes sure not to let go for the rest of the day, making a point to tangle your fingers and guide you through the city. you realize after that day that he’s probably never felt someone’s body so close to his—and you decide you’ll have to change that.

“what…what are you doing?” he asks, looking at you confused. for a second you think he might be uncomfortable, and then you realize he really doesn’t know.

he’s certainly the most unique man you’ve ever dated.

“i’m cuddling you, of course,” you grin, resting your head against his sturdy chest as your arm loops around his neck. he sits stiffly on the couch, as if it’s his chair in the court, as if he’s not here to relax.

“and that is…?” he raises an eyebrow.

you giggle, shaking your head as you lean up and kiss his cheek affectionately. he’s adorable—quite uninformed about romantic affairs, but adorable all the same. and he tries his best, just for you.

“we hold each other, like this—” you explain, taking his arm and wrapping it around yourself. you shuffle closer, pressed tightly against his body as your hand finds his chest, “—and it’s romantic.”

“i see,” he nods, “i think…i think i understand.”

you’re pretty sure he does not understand—you chuckle to yourself as his forehead is still covered with those crinkles from his furrowed brows, the gears in his head working to try and figure out what makes you crave this. and then you start to rub circles into his chest, and the tension melts instantly from his shoulders…and then he thinks he does understand.

“isn’t it nice?” you murmur, cheek pressed against where his heart is as his hand lays on your hip—it’s warm, he thinks. you’re warm, and you’re close, and he can feel your heart beating from being so near. “we get to just feel each other, you know? and not worry about anything else.”

“but…your worries won’t disappear simply by holding—”

“oh, neuvillette,” you huff, “you always take things so literally. just relax, would you?”

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely, as if he’s offended you by not understanding your cuddles. you look up at him fondly, cupping his cheek as you stroke a thumb over the soft skin.

“you don’t have to apologize, silly,” you peck his lips, trying to hold back the laugh that bubbles through your throat. and, if you’re not mistaken, you think there might just be a faint pout tugging at his corners of his mouth.

“now you’re laughing at me,” he frowns.

“i’m not,” you insist, smiling teasingly, “i just find you adorable, is all.” and then, as your head finds its way back to rest on him, you add, “it’s just nice to have someone close. to know they’re right here with you. does that make sense?”

“yes,” he smiles softly, “i suppose it does.” and then his hand starts to mimic yours, rubbing those slow, careful circles into your hip just like you do against his chest. “i enjoy having you close. your presence is comforting.”

“you’re catching on,” you tease, grinning brightly, “pretty soon you’ll be an expert at love.”

“i’m not so sure i’m quite there yet,” he chuckles, but his cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink.

you think you fall deeper in love right there—there are so many feelings neuvillette doesnt understand, but you’ll help him. slowly but surely, you’ll teach him by loving him in between every emotion so that it’s easier.

“i think you’re doing great,” you say softly, “i love you, y’know.”

he knows he understands this much for certain when he replies, “i as well, love you. very much.”

guys he’s literally just a weepy dragon are u kidding me we have to coddle him i accept nothing else

[sugar-phoenix]

𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔

synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!

ao3 link here!

The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.

Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.

“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”

You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.

“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”

You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.

Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.

Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.

“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.

A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.

“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.

“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”

The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.

“All good?”

“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”

You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels.  Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.

You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.

“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.

Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.

The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.

“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.

“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”

You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.

“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.

“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.

“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”

There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.

Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.

“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.

“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’

“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.

He chuckled before answering.

“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.

“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.

“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”

You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.

“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.

“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.

“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.

“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.

“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”

“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.

A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.

It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.

“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.

“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”

dividers by cafekitsune

[spicyhamsamson]

I am. So fucking tired of Batman being portrayed as a bad parent and a toxic person. And it’s so goddamn widespread. Fuck, it might be as bad as the whole “Superman being a kindhearted Boy Scout is boring” take.

I get it, the man’s not exactly stable, he watched his parents get murdered in front of him and spent years of his life training to fight crime dressed like a giant scary bat, of course he’s not perfect.

But to say that Bruce Wayne isn’t caring, isn’t empathetic, to call him abusive…it just misses the point of who the character is to me.

Why do you think he fights crime? Yes, part of it is because he’s bitter and sad because his parents were cruelly ripped from him as a child, and he’s lashing out against the corruption of his city. It’s arguably the focus of his earlier years. But he learns to become more than that. He learns to bring hope, a chance to be better.

Harleen Quinzel is the Joker’s right hand lady, but she’s also a victim of an abusive relationship and a woman with a surprisingly strong moral compass and a love for animals, and wants to get better. That’s why we see time and time again that he has a noticeable soft spot for her, because he knows that she’s a good person at her core.

Harvey Dent is a man who will decide someone’s fate on a coin toss(and a pretty inaccurate depiction of DID), but he’s also Bruce’s close friend who clearly needs help learning to live with his condition, rather than try to get rid of it, and someone who he still goes out of his way to visit, even after everything, because he recognizes he’s not just a criminal with a weird gimmick, he’s a man who is struggling with a condition that he’s mishandled his whole life.

Victor Fries is a cold, emotionless man who will callously discard allies and blame them for being careless, but he’s also a man who’s either lashing out because he had the love of his life taken from him, or just desperate to make sure she isn’t taken from him, and is willing to do anything just to guarantee her survival. Of course Batman would understand, his whole life was defined by having people he loved taken away from him.

Even the Joker, arguably one of the most morally bankrupt characters in all of fiction, is someone that Batman has offered a chance to. After the guy shoots the daughter of his friend, a girl he cared for like she was his own kid, and paralyzes her from the waist down, he tells the Joker that he doesn’t want to hurt him. He wants to get him help. He looks at this monster who has taken countless lives and says “You don’t have to be alone.”

For fuck’s sake, he sat with Joe Chill in his last moments so that he wouldn’t be alone. Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents, who took so much from him, the person responsible for all of the misery and suffering he’s gone through. And he sits with the man to comfort him while dies. Do you know how much emotional intelligence and maturity that must take? To comfort someone who arguably ruined your life?

And you’re gonna tell me the man who did that would abuse his kids?

That he’d hold up the young man whose death was his greatest failure, the boy he grieved, and say this?

That he’d look his goddamn son in the eyes and say this to him?

Why the FUCK do you think he took in Dick Grayson in the first place? It wasn’t because he saw the kid and thought “Ah. A potential soldier.”, it was because he saw a boy experiencing the same heartbreaking loss he had so many years ago, and wanted to make sure he didn’t end up as bitter and miserable as he was.

Why do you think he smiled when Tim Drake presented him a broken watch for Father’s Day? Because he was just happy to see the boy alive and safe.

DAMIAN LITERALLY POINTED AT A COW AND SAID “I’m keeping her. She’s Bat-Cow.” AND BRUCE JUST WENT WITH IT. DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO ARGUE WHY BRUCE SHOULD LET HIM KEEP HER. HE SAID “this cow is my pet now” AND BRUCE SAID “aight, bet”.

The thing about Batman is that he wants to make sure nobody else ends up feeling the way he does. That’s not just about stopping a mugger so a boy’s parents aren’t gunned down. It’s about giving his loved ones the support and care that he couldn’t have, because it was taken from him. It’s about comforting someone who just went through a traumatic experience and letting them know that they’re going to be okay. It’s about going to someone locked away in a cell who thinks that they’re a lost cause and a burden to society and telling them that he wants to help them get better. It’s about EMPATHY and COMPASSION.

That’s what makes him a HERO. He’s meant to inspire us, to show us that we can have that same empathy for others around us, that we can turn our suffering into hope for a better future.

I just wish more people at DC would start recognizing that. But I might as well follow that example myself. Maybe through this struggle of having to see this hero mistreat the people around him and act like a grade-A jackass, people will start to recognize that missing compassion, and slowly but surely, it might come back. After all, what is this post, if not trying to bring attention to the matter in the hopes of fixing it?

[lulunothulu]

“Migraine Induced”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You have a migraine and Jake’s the one who caused and clocked it.

Content: good ole Hangman charm, migraines, FLUFF

Your call-sign: Sparrow (yes I know it’s been used before but not the same universe lol)

“Sparrow!”

You wince at Hangman’s loud and obnoxious voice. You’d had a migraine for the past few hours and his loud, southern drawl wasn’t helping.

“Sparrow!” He calls again. You pinch the bridge of your nose before turning around.

“What?” You ask harshly.

“You joinin’ us tonight?” He asks, winking at you.

As much as you’d like to react to him winking at you (and god did you want to) you furrow your brows, placing pressure on your right eye before shaking your head. “I’m sorry, where?”

“Hard Deck,” Rooster says, walking toward the two of you. “We asked you about it yesterday?”

Oh fuck.

“Yeah,” you start, “I think imma have to sit this one out.”

“C’Mon,” Phoenix joins in, playfully elbowing you. “Don’t leave me here with all these boys.”

“We’re men,” Coyote corrects.

“Whatever,” Phoenix laughs. She turns to you, expectantly waiting for your response.

“Um,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut to then open them again. “Sure.”

———

Later after work, you and Phoenix are playing pool and about a beer or two into drinking. You thought it would help but of course…it didn’t. Your migraine still hadn’t passed and you were starting to squint, trying to keep the light out. So you asked Bob to get you a water, thinking that would help.

Of course the one day you need an ibuprofen, you leave it at home.

“You okay?” Bob asks from the stool he frequents.

“Never better Bobby boy.” You flash him a tight smile before groaning when Hangman approaches you and Phoenix.

“Ladies,” he says loudly. If the music in the bar was loud, Hangman made sure to be louder. “What’re we drinking?”

“I’m having beer, Sparrow’s drinking water,” Phoenix tells him.

Hangman turns his gaze to you, green eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before. Was that worry? And why did that do something to you?

“Is that so?” He asks, flashing you his famous cocky smile and shedding whatever possessed him before.

“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood to drink,” you tell him.

“Let’s change that.” Before you can begin to resist, Hangman turned to the rest of the Dagger Squad before yelling, “Let’s play a little game called ‘List Five Things’.”

Around you, Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote gather around in a circle. Bob, Payback, and Fanboy decided to sit this game out and are acting as the judges.

You knew the game well—list five things for whatever someone chooses. The twist to it is you have to remember what the person before you said that way, you can not only repeat what they had said—but also add on. If you end up forgetting, you have to take a shot.

“Coyote,” Hangman calls. “Start us off.”

“List five things a woman would say to you on a first date,” Coyote smiles.

“You’re handsome,” Hangman smirks across from you, winking in your direction.

“You’re handsome, you look nice,” Rooster adds.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile,” Phoenix adds.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, yoi have something in your teeth,” you add, a fake smile directed toward Hangman.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, you have something in your teeth, and your dance moves are killer,” Coyote ends it. 

This goes on for a while, only you and Jake drinking five shots compared to everyone else’s seven to eight. You were all pretty plastered and you knew your migraine would be ten times worse tomorrow.

“Sparrow, my dear,” Hangman smiles, taking a swig of his beer. “You’re up.”

“Name five things you can say in bed,” you randomly blurt.

“That’s tight,” Coyote laughs.

“Thats tight, where are my clothes?” Hangman smiles.

“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?” Rooster adds, wiggling his brows at Coyote making him howl in a laugh while simultaneously making you flinch at the loudness.

Across from you, Hangman’s brows furrow.

“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?…”Phoenix thinks before shouting very loudly in your ear, “GOT PROTECTION?!”

“Fuck!” You yell, grabbing your right eye and shutting both in pain.

“You lose, Y/N!” Everyone yells.

Well, everyone but Hangman.

No, he’s watching you with the same worried expression on his face. But instead of hiding it like he did before, he makes a point to walk up to you and tilt you head back for you look up at him.

“Let’s go outside,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you start.

“Now.”

You obey, hearing the others whoop and whistle behind you. You allow him to walk you out to the beach before sitting you down in the warm sand.

“What’s going on? You’ve been a lot more irritable today and that says a lot because normally loud noises wouldn’t bother you.” He’s squatting before you, practically begging you to rip his vocal cords out by how loud he’s talking.

“Just for once, can you please talk quieter?” You scold. “It’s bad enough you’re already loud, just…dial it down.”

He silently watches you, at least you assume because you’ve already closed your eyes again. Even though you’re fairly far away from the bar, you can still feel the pulsing in your eye every time someone inside yells.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Sometimes I get over-excited and can’t help myself.”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. Hangman had never apologized to you or anyone for anything. Not even when he almost got into a fight with Rooster that one time. Or that other time he ran into you as you ran during PT.

You squint to look at him. He’s breathtaking. The moonlight lights his handsome face and makes his green eyes look almost aquamarine. His golden skin practically glows, his hair along with it.

You were caught off guard by those thoughts. Why are feelings suddenly manifesting for him? And why do you like how it feels deep in your stomach?

“Are you seriously apologizing?” You ask.

“Don’t get used to it, sweetheart.” He smiles down at you before grunting and joining you in the sand.

You sit in comfortable silence, taking in the crashing of the waves ahead and the beautiful night sky.

“I have a migraine,” you finally tell him. Looking up at the barely starred sky. “I’ve had one since,” you look at your watch and it reads 2:35 AM. “4:15 PM yesterday.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to drink,” he states. “You didn’t want to have to nurse that and a hangover.”

“Yup,” you say, lips popping on the ‘p’.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he tells you.

You snort. “How?”

“Let’s go for a dip,” he smiles.

“Now how the hell is that gonna help?” You frown. “I’m not skinny dipping with you.”

“As much as I know you’d love that, no. The water’s cool.”

“Okay?” You reply, still frowning and ignoring the comment.

“The cool water to your feet will help minimize the pain in that thick ass head of yours,” he says, standing and offering you his hands.

“I do not have a thick head,” you mutter, taking his rough hands. “That’s all you, Bagman.”

“I’m just here helping you out of the goodness of my heart and you want to insult me?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand after you both remove your shoes.

In fact, he holds it even when you both start splashing in the water and again when you decide to walk down the beach, shoes in his other hand.

He stops you in your tracks when you both return to Hard Deck. You’re standing on the back deck of the bar and looking in on your colleagues and friends laughing up a storm.

“What?” You ask, a small smile creeping on your lips.

“Did the water help?” He asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

You smile up at him, you never realized how much taller he was than you. Maybe a head taller? And god, he smelled so good.

“Yes, it helped a lot actually,” you tell him. “Thank you, Jake.”

“I like how your voice sounds with my name on your lips ,” he flirts.

“Are you flirting with me Seresin?” You grin.

“God, even my last band sounds good,” he rolls his eyes in pleasure.

You laugh, going on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Fuck off, Bagman.”

You make to turn away but he catches your wrist and spins you around so fast, you feel like falling. Only, he catches you before planting his lips on yours.

It’s like a scene from a cheesy rom-com you and Phoenix watch. You used to think it was funny but now actually living it? You loved it.

Jake pulls away, panting before giving you the biggest smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Have you?” You ask.

He nods. Then, pulling you up and in his arms, he asks, “So did this help ease the migraine aftermath?”

You smile, reaching up to pull him in for another kiss.

“Definitely. But I think a date would settle it once and for all.”

Before he even has time to answer, you’re pushing him away softly and swaying your hips to walk into the bar.

“Fuck, I think I’m in love,” he mutters to himself.

I kinda wanna write a part two…. Their date maybe and her realizing she really likes him? Let me know 💗💗

[solarmorrigan]

Silly idea I talked about ages ago with @azure7539arts, inspired by a similar event my workplace hosts every year. Would minors be allowed to participate in such an event? Probably not! But then again, it was the 80s, who can say for sure. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'll post nonsense if I want to <3

-

“I need you to buy me.”

Eddie looks up from his notebook, effectively jarred from his campaign-plotting fugue state by Steve’s declaration.

Steve is standing at the other end of the dining table, staring at him expectantly.

“Y’know, this is the part where someone usually follows up their completely bonkers demand with an explanation,” Eddie says slowly.

“At the charity auction,” Steve clarifies. “I need you to bid on me, and I need you to win.”

Ah, yes, that weird Rent-an-Athlete charity auction the school runs every year; anyone on any Hawkins High sports team could volunteer to be “auctioned” off in order to raise money for said sports team, to spend a day at the beck and call of the highest bidder (within reason, supposedly). It’s generally restricted to students, but occasionally, prominent alumni are invited to participate – and Steve certainly fits the bill, especially after the story the government spun about his heroism in the face of “serial killer” Henry Creel last spring.

“And what, deny all those pretty girls a chance to get at you?” Eddie asks drily (he’d never turned up at previous auctions himself, but you could hardly avoid gossip in a school their size; it had usually been some cheerleader bidding with daddy’s money who won a date– that is, a day with Steve Harrington).

“It wasn’t always a girl who won,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest. “One time it was Mrs. Dalton – you know, the lady on the school board who lives on my block? I just spent the day doing yard work for her. She gave me lemonade. That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eddie drawls. “And I’m sure she definitely didn’t sit outside and stare at your ass while you were working.”

“She did not– she– I mean she was on the porch, but, like– she wouldn’t have– she’s, like, seventy, Eddie,” Steve splutters, and it’s all Eddie can do not to laugh.

“Older gals have needs, too, Steve,” Eddie says, giving in to a smirk. “So she was checking you out from the porch, huh?”

Steve goes red. “Shut up, that isn’t the point. I’m trying to ask for your help.”

“Right, right, your absolutely reasonable request for me to buy you at market. Why, again?” Eddie asks.

“The kids are planning to bid on me,” Steve says gravely.

Eddie blinks at him. “Okay?” he says, when no further explanation is forthcoming. “You basically do most of what they ask, anyway, so…?”

“Okay, believe it or not, I actually say no to at least half of what they ask me to do. I would literally never get anything done if I gave in to all their demands.” Steve jabs a finger at Eddie, who holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, this is all Henderson’s fault.”

“It usually is,” Eddie agrees, nodding sagely.

“He decided that he was going to bid on me and then use that day to finally make me play your nerd game with you–” Eddie snorts, and Steve shoots him a look, “but Wheeler doesn’t want me to play, so he said he was going to bid against Dustin and make me do anything but sit in on a session with you guys.”

“So let Wheeler win.” Eddie shrugs.

“No! I can’t let fuckin’ Mike win, he’ll probably make me do something even more ridiculous!” Steve exclaims. "He’ll make me play chauffeur for him and El on a date, or something, and he’ll probably include the stupid hat.”

“Wait, I thought El broke up with him,” Eddie breaks in.

“No, they’re on again,” Steve says absently, shaking his head. “Which is why Max has been in a bad mood lately.”

Eddie bites back the reflexive need to ask “How can you tell?”, going instead with, “I thought she and Sinclair were on again.”

“No, they are. That’s why no one’s been actively murdered,” Steve says.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Eddie asks, squinting at Steve.

“It’s a natural skill. And we’re getting off track,” Steve says quickly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that worried, because Dustin regularly blows his savings on weird science gadgets or whatever, but then Lucas and Will started taking sides.”

“This is getting very involved,” Eddie says.

“So you see why I’m stressed!” Steve insists, smacking a hand to his forehead (personally, Eddie thinks Steve is stressed for many other reasons, but he figures pointing that out just now won’t be appreciated). “Lucas is on Dustin’s side, and that kid does odd jobs like nobody’s goddamn business; he actually has shit saved up. And usually I’d have faith in him being more, like, sensible than to spend it all on this, but the little shit is really fucking competitive.”

“Wonder who he got that from?” Eddie mutters.

“Okay, we do remember that I’m not actually biologically related to any of these idiots, right?” Steve snaps.

“Well now we’re just getting into nature versus nurture–”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry, continue.”

“Well, Will took Mike’s side–”

“Shocking.”

“Right? But anyway, I don’t know if the kid has much saved up, but between him and Wheeler, they might be able to win.” Steve sighs, looking far more world-weary than Eddie feels the situation really warrants.

“You know you don’t actually have to do what they ask you to, right?” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If an auction winner complains to the school that the person they bid on didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain, they can get their money back. It’s a whole…” he waves his hand vaguely, “thing. Happened once when I was a sophomore; Deacon McNab. Lost a good chunk of change for the football team, and they vandalized the shit out of his car.”

“Ah, right. Forgot we went to school with literal psychopaths,” Eddie hums.

“So, I just need you to bid on me and win, so I’m not stuck wasting a Saturday on whatever the hell the kids are going to try to make me do. Or not do. Or– whatever,” Steve says.

“Okay, not that I don’t understand your predicament here, but I think you’re forgetting something kind of important, Steve,” Eddie drawls.

Steve’s brows draw together in question. “What?”

“I’m fucking poor.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t mean– no, I will give you the money, you don’t have to spend a dime, man, I just need you to get me out of this.”

“Why not have Buckley do it?” Eddie asks.

“That was Plan A, but she actually has a date that night, and it’s kind of a big deal, so I don’t want her to cancel,” Steve says. “But I assumed you wouldn’t be busy.”

“Wow, rude,” Eddie scoffs, and Steve sighs.

“Fine, sorry, I just really hoped you wouldn’t be busy.” Steve gives him the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes Eddie has ever seen, as if there had been any chance from the beginning that he’d be able to say no. “Please?”

Just for show, Eddie lets out a long sigh, falling against his chair and letting his head flop over the backrest like he’s deflating.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve groans, sounding so genuinely relieved that Eddie almost feels bad about how quickly his thoughts dip into the realms of the inappropriate. “Oh my god, I owe you.”

Eddie glances back up at Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips almost unconsciously. “You know I’m not as easy to appease as a couple of fifteen-year-olds, right?”

Steve’s eyes drop for just a second—maybe down to Eddie’s lips, maybe not; who can say?—before he looks back up, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “I think I can handle it.”

Slowly, Eddie grins. “We’ll see.”

[despacito-uwu16]

PRETTY PLEASE

(Pining! Kenji Sato x Reader)

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

"pretty please come on over and ruin my life" - Pretty Please by Dutch Melrose

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Kenji woke up in his room with a pounding headache and a wave of nausea hitting him like a ton of bricks. Mina held the trashcan as Kenji threw up the contents from last night’s party. After he was done, Mina set down a sandwich, along with some water and painkillers. “Thanks, Mina”. He said as he took a bite of the sandwich. Before she left his bedroom, she closed the curtains, making the room dark again. Kenji put the sandwich back on the plate and lied back down on the bed. He closed his eyes again, and the events of last night came flooding back. The techno music blasting, the alcohol, the girl…

The girl… she was all alone at the after party so Kenji approached her. It went from small talk and flirting to long, deep conversations. The next thing he knew, they were dancing on the dance floor. He remembers her angelic laugh, her strong lavender perfume, the way she would look at him while he held her as they danced. They were perfect for each other.

“She was so pretty”…

“Fuck what was her name again”?

Kenji looked through his contacts, trying to see if there was a name or a phone number he wasn’t familiar with. But alas, nothing. As he sinks further down into the soft pillows, his hands fell onto his face. Of all the things he didn’t do, he didn’t think to ask for her phone number.

He couldn’t stop daydreaming about the girl. Everywhere he went, he thought he saw her. But he always ends up mistaking her for another random lady. 

His pining got to the point where it annoyed his baseball team. Every time Kenji would bring up the mystery girl, his teammates would groan, yelling at him to shut the fuck up.  Even his coach had enough of the mystery girl nonsense.

“If you don’t get your head out of the gutter, i’m trading you to the tigers. That’s a promise”. His coach threatened.

Even Mina noticed how distracted Kenji was. Every time Kenji came back from battle, he would show up with more bruises and injuries. 

“Kenji, what’s going on with you? You keep loosing your focus”. Mina asked. 

“I’m fine Mina, really I am”. Kenji puts an ice pack on his shoulder, the cold stinging his skin. 

“This is about the girl from your dreams, isn’t it”? Mina pressed on.

Kenji sighs. “She isn’t some girl I made up! She’s real Mina, and the thought of her is driving me crazy. What’s even worse is I never got her phone number”. 

“I’m sure you’ll see her again”. Mina reassures him. 

“In a city like Tokyo? I doubt it”. He pouts. 

Everyone around him is well aware of how down bad he is for the girl. The thought of her is ruining him, but he didn’t care. He wants to see her again. Scratch that, he NEEDS to see her again. 

But a few weeks go by, an the thought of the mystery girl eventually died down. His focus came back and Kenji can properly function again. 

He was filling up the water coolers for his team, minding his own business when all of a sudden, he heard a familiar laugh. He turned around and saw a (hair color) haired girl talking on the phone while filling up her water bottle at the same water station. 

“It’s you”. He muttered out loud.

The girl turned around and looked at him. Kenji panicked, he finally found the mystery girl that had been plaguing his mind for weeks, and now he couldn’t form a single sentence.

“Hey, can I call you back? Okay bye”. The girl hung up her phone and approached Kenji. 

“Well, if it isn’t Ken Sato”. She smirked

“I can’t believe it’s you”. Said Kenji.

“In the flesh. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried when you blacked out”. She said.

Kenji looks at her in confusion. “I blacked out? But Ken Sato never passes out”. 

“Well, you did. It was during our dance. My guess is the soju finally caught up to you”. She chuckled. 

He finally remembered now. He had two soju bottles and the next thing he knew, he saw stars. Talk about embarrassment.

“Anyways, my brother and I took you home”. She added. 

“Damn… I’m sorry, I really wanted to see you again, but I never got your number”. He said.

“I slipped my phone number in your jacket, hoping you would find it. But then I waited and then realized you probably didn’t want to talk to me”. She looked down at the ground. 

Kenji’s mentally face palmed himself. He didn’t think to look through his clothes before laundering them.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it! God I’m such an idiot”. He scratched his head. 

“It’s okay Ken. Here, give me your phone”. She gestured for it. 

He gave her his phone and she added her number on his notes app. 

“Text me and we can get dinner sometime”. She hands his phone back.

“I would like that”. He smiled at her. 

Suddenly, they hear the crowds cheering loudly from the stadium

“I guess that’s my cue to head back in. Can’t wait to see you play Ken”. She winks and turns to leave. 

He walked away, feeling incredibly lucky and lovestruck. But he snapped out of it when he realized…

“WAIT I DIDN’T GET YOUR”- 

But as he turned around, she was gone again. Lost in the crowd full of people.

“Name”…

“Well, at least I got your number”. Kenji thought

He looked down at his phone and saw the number she just put in, along with her name: 

“Y/N”

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated!!

FYI: Requests are open so feel free to send me some ideas for future one shots!

[ramonathinks]

Did I Do Good? / Nanami Kento

tags/warnings: (18+), age gap (reader is 22 + nanami is 32), infidelity, smut, blowjob, pet names (little lady, baby) daddy kink, mention of wife, bimbofication, reader used to be stripper/sex worker, black-coded reader

“Kento Nanami, you lucky bastard.” His co-worker slapped a hand on his shoulder much to his surprise. “Please tell me she’s got a sister…” He couldn’t remember the guy’s name but he knew he was hating the way he was eyeing you. The guy was swaying and slurring his words, licking his lips.

He wasn’t even this protective of his wife. He internally cringed at the thought.

None of his colleagues brought along anyone, using this business trip as an escape. He brought you. But in a way you were his escape, an escape from it all.

He just brushed off the comment but really it was hard to do especially since your arrival and what you were wearing:

A frilly hot pink skirt that hugged your hips and that was a tad bit short and constantly raising paired with a very tight light pink corset that made your breast look ever larger than they were. Even the high boots you were wearing that made everyone look at how long your legs were was making him uncomfortable. You even decided to get your hair done in a new style: long black pin curls that flowed heavenly down your shoulders. He watched multiple men wave at you and talk to you while you giggled and typed on your phone.

He didn’t want anyone staring at you.

He wanted to lock you up in the room. But he knew that was too much, this trip was all you’d been talking about for the past month since he causally mentioned it in passing.

“Kenny baby are you serious? We’re going to New York?” Your voice was so high pitched and happy even though he wasn’t planning on bringing you at first.

It was a business trip. With you around he barely got any work done. He’d find a way to have you milking his cock with that pretty pussy even if you’d only just woke up instead of scheduling his meetings, attending his meetings or anything.

“Yeah baby,” He watched your eyes light up in such delight and with a squeal you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But this is an important business trip for me, so I might not be around as much as you like… but I’ll give you your favorite card of mine to have fun with, you’d like that yeah?”

You pouted a bit, “I mean sure but I’ll be so sad without you,”

“I’ll try to get out of all my meetings a bit early so that I can at least make it to one of your fashion shows after your shopping spree, yeah?”

You pulled back to smile at him and nodded before kissing him all over. “Okay Ken.”

It was warm and he knew you dressed appropriately but fuck he didn’t like how everyone was looking at you like a piece of meat. Even he was.

You skipped slightly back towards him with the keycard in hand. “Penthouse suite…ooh, you’re spoiling me, Ken.” You told him, biting your lip. He knew what that meant. He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him.

“Well, I’m going now.” He quickly told his coworkers and dragged you to the elevator.

“Ken! You’re so rude!” You playfully glared at him. You turned back to his coworkers and waved, “Bye, see you boys soon.”

He could practically hear them swooning and didn’t bother to look back as he heard them saying your name and “goodbye”.

When the elevator door finally opened, he hurried to step inside interrupting your waving.

“You like making me jealous?” His eyes were intense as he stared down at you. He quirked a brow, “You think it’s cute? Funny?”

“Kento, you’re being too serious.” You whine a bit, trying to look away from his narrowed and intense eyes.

“Of course I’m being serious, you’re being flirty with everyone here, how do you think that makes me feel?”

A deep sigh is released from you and it’s the most frustrated he’s ever seen you. “You know they think I’m your wife…”

“Is that so wrong? You know what you mean to me. You know how important you are.” He cups your face and makes you look at him.

“When am I gonna be your wife?” Your eyes bore into his. You had only been dating a year and some months but you already saw a future with him and you wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

His eyes softened but the elevator doors opened up before he could answer and you slipped out of his grasp. “You know how complicated that is. But I promised you remember? I have always kept my promises with you, little lady.”

He had always kept them. He took care of you, moved you into his place, even turned his office into your own personal walk in closet. He gave you things that you could only dream of.

But that wasn’t all. He gave you much support in anything, helping you with any assignments even when he had work bright and early. He was always there, he was a big comfort to you and it was easy to fall in love with him.

You almost wanted to kill his bitch wife. When you met him he was nothing but depression in human form. It’s only now that his eyes aren’t so clouded and that his smiles are real.

You inhaled deeply and shook off all your bad mood. “You’re right. You’re mines as I am yours, that’s all that matters.”

He did a small grin before he took you into his arms and hugged you tightly like he hadn’t seen you all day. “You’re too good for me you know that?”

It was something he almost always told you. But really it was the opposite. He made your world so much brighter than it had ever been. You truly felt at peace with him and didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

You wanted to him.

“I wanna suck your dick.”

His expression fell almost too quickly. “No, baby.” He chuckled. “But we can make love for the rest of the day and then maybe my coworkers will finally realize that I’m being nice enough to let them meet you but even nicer to hear those pretty little moans of yours all night.”

You did a shy small but rolled your eyes. He never let you give him a blowjob and with a dick like his it was criminal. Your mouth was watering just thinking about having his cum in your mouth but it probably would never happen.

It was the one thing you hated about him. He never came in your mouth, on your face or really anywhere. He didn’t want to defile you. He liked how pure you looked. Even though he seen you in your absolute filthiest.

“Please, daddy.” You touched him through his pants and he twitched. You didn’t call him daddy often but whenever you did, it was even harder for him to say no to you. “I just wanna a taste of your cum on my tongue.”

Maybe this was how you ended up with the bruised knees from being on the floor as you wrapped your sweet lips on him.

His cock was very pretty. A bit dark with a slight pink tip, very thick and long. His hair trimmed and clean, you were throbbing just from looking. You placed small kisses to his head before you did small licks all over him. With a moan you took him deep in your mouth.

His toes curled and he did his best not to grab your hair. There was some much slurping coming from your very wet mouth that he couldn’t bear himself to look at you. But when he finally decided to look, he couldn’t look away.

“You look so good on your knees.” His voice was completely wrecked and his eyes were burning inside of yours. His eyes narrowed when your hands squeezed at his balls before taking more of his hard weeping cock into your mouth.

He could feel your tongue tracing every vein and it was getting harder to stay quiet. Hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him, feeling hot all over your body.

Swirling your eager tongue over his slit, “Just… just like that, you’re doing so good.” He was whimpering but still managed to give you enough praises to last a lifetime.

He jumped when you touched his hand and put it in your hair. “I-I can’t…” He could barely contain himself now. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You sucked harder, bobbing your head before he finally took over. He was harsh. Very rough. Between his hips thrusting into your mouth, his tight grip on your hair forced you to stay in place.

He was using you and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it. Saliva dropped from your mouth and down your chin but you didn’t mind. You took him out of your mouth for a second.

“I want to be covered in you Ken, please? Cum all over me.” You knew he was close, could feel him throbbing and pulsing in your mouth. He muttered a small fuck when he heard you say that. He couldn’t believe just how nasty you were, wanting him to come all over you.

But he did want to see it. He wanted to see that you belonged to him. To see himself all over you. He stood up, standing over you and with his big hands he rubbed himself in front of your face.

It was erotic, the way he stared at you with such dark lust. Moving his hand up and down, slick coating his hand and wet noises all over the room. He swallowed before he let out a long and loud groan and finally came.

White warmth painted itself all over your tongue and some over your face. You swallowed, letting every bit of him flow down your throat.

“Did I do good, Kento?” His cock was still hard as he stared at you, his face reddened. He didn’t want to let you know just how much he enjoyed that.

“I’m going to make you my wife as soon as fucking possible.”

You smiled, cum still stained on your face. But you couldn’t have been any cuter.

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Don't Care, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Bucky is capital J-Jealous

Warnings: A guy being overly nice at a bar, drinking at 1pm, nothing else I can think of

Notes: Short little thing I thought of when i was visiting home and witnessing my sister's boyfriend be jealous lol. I just love jealous Bucky sorry not sorry. More Biker!Bucky here

“Oh hey sweetheart, you look lonely over here.” You looked up from where you were engrossed in the book you’d left behind the bar for days just like this, the crew was too busy to talk and the regulars weren’t your favorite. The man wasn’t a regular, not horrible looking and was dressed alright. You were confident he had stopped by because his car was in the shop. The demographic that frequented the bar that was not the vibe that this man was giving off.

“Oh you know, just waiting for my order,” you supplied with a polite smile. He had plopped himself onto the bar stool beside you and raised a two finger salute to Bruce, who was the daytime bartender.

“Waiting for your car?” he asked, “Nice girls like you don’t usually come around here.” Your eyes narrowed, an eyebrow going up.

“I’m a regular. And you? Waiting for your car? Since I haven’t seen you around.” Bruce came over, giving you a look that said ‘if this guy is bothering you I’ll toss him out’ and you knew he would. Bruce “The Hulk” Banner was not exactly known for his polite way of answering rude customers. You shook your head. No need to alienate a customer just because he got a little friendly at a bar.

“What can I get you, man?”

“Whatever IPA you have and whatever the lady is having I’ll put on my tab.” Bruce grinned at that and you were near protesting. You never paid for a thing at the Howling Commando, but you knew Bruce and you knew he was putting your lunch right on this guy’s tab.

“Sure thing.” Bruce turned away.

“Must just have not been around on the same days as you.” You glanced around the bar. It was pretty empty today, but it was still early. Your bosses had required you to use some of your PTO before they had to pay you out for it, and you were truly more than happy to oblige a staycation. After another glance around, Bruce still keeping an eye on you out of the corner of your eye, you decided it would be entirely harmless to engage in conversation.

“Not sure. I’m here every day. Basically. You here getting your car fixed?” You asked again. He gave you another sleazy smile, this one reminiscent of your male coworkers who thought they could get any more than a polite smile or handshake at a work happy hour.

“Waiting for my car yeah. Only place this convenient to get a decent bite and drink while waiting for them to get done.” As if on queue, Bruce slid over your usual burger and sweet tea, and then an IPA for the guy.

“Closed tab?” Bruce asked, putting his hand out for the card. The guy did a suggestive look over at you.

“You know? Keep it open.” You rolled your eyes at your sandwich, slightly regretting that you had begun a conversation with this man, and took a bite. Some of the tomato juice dripped down your chin and you snapped at Bruce to get his attention.

“You’re going to learn one of these days,” he sighed, tossing you a stack of napkins. You chewed and swallowed and then gave him a grin as he walked back over.

“You keep saying that, but I never do.”

“Good luck…” he looked at the tab as he slid it under a cup in front of the man, “Colin… you’re going to need it.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, you knew he didn’t mean good luck with you, or at least not the primary part.

“So you’re really a regular regular huh?” Colin was eyeing you with near a frown as he took the first sip of his beer. The clock behind the bar read a quarter past one.

“Yeah, lots of friends who work here. Just not usually in during the day. Sounds like you’ve been here before?” You took another bite before he could pivot the questioning back to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been before. They did a shit job though…” He started to ramble but you were quickly uninterested when the side door opened and a sweaty, grease stained Bucky Barnes walked in, squinting at a ticket.

“Paulson? Fucking Yelena and her handwriting. This is fuc-oh!” It was almost comedic to see Bucky go from a serious, frowning massive man to the grinning, golden retriever man he became when he looked at you. Bucky attention had turned squarely on you as he walked over, the ticket partially crumpling in his hand as he tried to wipe them off before he got over to you. The grease stains on some of your clothes were impossible to get out just from his grabby hands.

“Paulson, that’s me.” Both you and Bucky turned to Colin, as if he had just returned to existence. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and you could see them flicker across the length of the empty bar then back to where Colin had seated himself beside you. He knew it had to be him that sat beside you because not two hours gone, Bucky had come in for some water and to smack a kiss to your lips right where you sat now.

All concern for grease stains went right out the window.

Bucky came up behind you, reaching over your shoulder to take a few fries off your plate, the hand with the crumpled ticket going around the other side to hand it to Colin, effectively entrapping you between his arms and away from the guy.

“Your car’s done. You can settle it up in the office.” Colin stared at Bucky, who after handing him the paper, wrapped his arm around you and pressed your back to his chest, chomping on fries and reaching for your sweet tea.

“Did they make your burger good?” Bucky asked, “The new cook got specific instructions.” You elbowed him lightly.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a control freak.” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“They know I’m the control freak.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll go get my car then. Nice to meet you.” Colin left his mostly full IPA on the table and forgot to pay his tab, near running out the front door.

“What was that guys problem?” Bucky asked jokingly, spinning your stool so you were facing him. You wrinkled your nose.

“You’re stinky.”

“I don’t think you care,” Bucky rumbled, leaning down to press a long warm kiss to your lips.

“His problem was I was getting ready to deck him,” Bruce said, setting down a pint of Bucky’s favorite on a coaster beside your food. He whisked away Colin’s drink and wiped down the watermark.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Bruce responded before disappearing back towards the kitchen. Bucky plopped onto the stool beside you and waited for you to respond.

“He was just trying to chat me up. That’s all.” Bucky sipped his drink before taking a massive bite out of your burger.

“Hey! That’s mine! Smaller bite!”

“I’m just taste testing the new cook.” You bickered over your lunch as the rest of the garage crew began to filter in, a few of the regulars making their way through the front as well.

“Heyo! I heard someone was trying to flirt with-“ Bucky hit Steve in the arm, but Sam had already heard it from where he was clocking in behind the bar.

“Is he dead?” he yelled. The group devolved into ways that Bucky could have murdered this man. All of you failed to notice Colin walking in the front door, where he paused and stared at the group of massive, tattooed bikers calling out forms of torture that could have been inflicted on him. Sam saw him first.

“Oh hey man, what can I get you?” Everyone turned toward him and Bucky got to his feet immediately, having been the only one who could have identified him.

“Just-“ the man’s voice came out high and you suppressed a grin, already feeling a little bad for him. He cleared his throat, face red.

“Just the tab I left.” There was a quiet murmur of “ooooos” as the group dispersed, keeping an eye on you and Bucky.

"Sorry," you started, but Bucky shifted around the side of the bar, picking up Colin's card where it was sitting by the register. Policy was 20% on any leftover cards and Bruce had already closed it out with your meal on there.

"Here. Get lost." Bucky's expression had gone dark.

"Buck, he didn't know."

"Don't care." Colin took a few steps back.

"Man, I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't know she was your girl, she was talking to me too."

"Do. Not. Care." Colin fled under the close watch of the bikers.

"You didn't have to do that," you sighed, rolling your eyes at the men around you, "You're going to lose a customer."

"Don't care," Bucky muttered, back by your side, "You're mine, honey. Don't care what anyone else says."

"I am yours. He was just being nice." Sam had started the music for the night, and it whafted through the speakers.

"Dance with me, belle?" You laughed.

"When have I ever said no to that? In fact, kill me if I ever do because its an evil clone trying to take over my life." He laughed, the sound more than enough music to your ears for dancing. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and smacked a kiss to your lips, taking your hand and whisking you off to the dance floor.

[lenaluvbot]

morning suprise

say this tweet and immediately thought of tyler

warnings: smut/oral/morning sex/no pull outs/praise kink

the sun has just broken in through the blinds as your newly wed husband tyler’s arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to him.

his cowboy hat on the headrest along with you black bra, sure it wasn’t actual decoration but it looked cute with the room.

“Morning gorgeous..” he hummed the texan accent thick, while kissing your neck, the skin already littered with kisses from the previous nights.

“Hey baby, you just wake up?” Squeezing his hand as a way to show you were also awake

“Been up for a few minutes, just staring at you pretty lady” He smirked, his groin grinding against you, definitely feeling a morning wood you grunted.

“Oh really? See anything you like?” dryly chuckling underneath him.

“See a few things..” He hummed in your ear, pressing open your legs from behind, his hand on the outer part of your thigh, almost pulling ten completely apart “Tyler…it’s so earlyy” softly whining, your hand running over his callused fingers.

“Yeah early bird gets the worm or some shit like that” He smiled at you kissing your back all over

“If i say yes do i get to stay back from those stupid tornado vlogs..?” “Those stupid vlogs are the reason we are in bed together..”

He put his hand on yours and resting it on his buldge

“Your sooo gross” Rolling your eyes “Yeah well let me make your morning better..” Smiling at you as he straddled your waist,taking out his cock and gently pushing it into you.

His pre-cum and sliding in easy as he began to slow thrust into you

“Lord oh lord i missed this kitty…You look so pretty looking at me like that so early in the morning when im fucking you into our bed” He grunted loudly

“Fuck!- Damn i love you..love you so much baby…” He stated going faster, gripping the head board to get deeper in you on this sunny wednesday morning.

Reaching a shared peak he looked down at you while rubbing circles on your clit, pushing it into you, the sound almost hypnotic as you threw your head back.

“There’s my pretty lady, hold on tight i’m gonna get you a baby.” Was the last thing he said before blowing his load into you, trying to push to over the edge one last time.

Panting and grunts could be heard as you suddenly heard tyler say something with two intentions

“So how’s your day gonna be today? Mine is going great sweetheart.” Kissing you one last time before getting up.

[melzula]

My HC is that since Zuko is royalty, the heir, and also commanded his fleet on his hunt for the avatar, he’s used to taking charge. But the way I’m thinking of it is him being casually dominant with the y/n. Things like using a soft but firm voice to make sure they eat enough, that they’re warm, putting his hand on their thigh to keep it from shaking, etc. the gaang would start to notice how it takes one look from Zuko and y/n complies. Wrapping his hand around their hips to bring them down to sit in his lap, subtly tugging their skirt down when it rides up, stuff like that.

Could I please request some of your amazing writing for casual dominance with Zuko?

pairing: Zuko x reader

notes: okay so this was actually pretty challenging to write just bc i had to be careful about not making zuko come off as too controlling while also still fulfilling the details of the request. however i think it came out pretty good !

summary: Zuko shows his love for you the only way he knows how to

To those on the outside, your relationship with Zuko appeared to be… odd.

No one could quite determine whether he saw you as an equal or as someone who needed to be taken care of. Everyone knew you could handle your own; you’d been a skilled swordsman during the war and a master at hand-to-hand combat. No one doubted your ability to fend for yourself, but it seemed once you began dating the Fire Lord there was no longer any need for you to do so. Zuko took care of you, and being with him meant never having to lift a finger and never having to worry again. You were his prized jewel, and he took it upon himself to care for you in the only way he knew how.

Growing up, the Prince had never properly learned how to show affection or lovingly nurture a relationship. His parents weren’t the greatest example, and his father’s coldness left much to desire. However, his upbringing as a royal and his time commanding a fleet during his search for the Avatar allowed him to grow into a leader. In his younger years he’d been hotheaded and impulsive, but with time he had learned to be firm yet fair. He was a benevolent leader who only wished to do what was best for his people, and this same thought process extended to you.

You’d missed dinner one night and left him waiting in the throne room, too engrossed in your studies to realize how much time had passed or just how hungry you were. Your stomach growled incessantly and your head was beginning to ache, but you were adamant about finishing your book. Having recently been proposed to by the Fire Lord, you took it upon yourself to read up on the history of the Fire Nation and your expected duties as Fire Lady. You were overwhelmed, and eating dinner was the last thing on your mind.

“Y/n,” he had called, startling you out of your focused state as you rested your gaze upon his figure in the doorway. “We were supposed to have dinner together, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you uttered bashfully, using your book to shield your embarrassed features. “I must have lost track of time. Let me just finish this last page and then I’ll-“

“Y/n,” he repeated with a pointed look, one that had you slowly lowering your text.

“Yes, Zuko,” you had finally relented. You couldn’t ignore your growling stomach any longer, and so you’d tossed your book aside and taken the arm he’d offered for you before allowing him to escort you to the dining room.

Zuko wasn’t strict, wasn’t cruel, just firm. It was his way of showing he cared for you, and you took no offense to how he so often liked to be the one in charge. Whether it be in his actions or in his tone of voice, he took the lead and you followed. This wasn’t to say that you didn’t have a mind or will of your own, but often times Zuko took it upon himself to step in whenever he felt you weren’t taking care of yourself the way he believed you should be.

His love could be conveyed through mundane actions such as wordlessly slipping your shawl over your shoulders without you having to ask to ensure you won’t be cold during a stroll in the palace gardens or resting a comforting hand on your thigh to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg during an important meeting. Anyone and everyone could see the influence he held over you, the dominant role he’d taken in your relationship, and you happily fell into place with him.

“Don’t you think it’s just a little weird?” Sokka had noted once to his sister after watching Zuko carefully wrap his fingers along your hips and delicately pull your figure into his lap as if he were handling a porcelain doll. You looked radiant in your silk robes and ceremonial makeup, a look picked out by Zuko to ease your anxieties over your lack of knowledge of traditional Fire Nation fashion, and as the Fire Lord’s fiancé you were the talk of the ball.

“Maybe it does seem like Zuko is usually the one in charge,” Katara had agreed thoughtfully, her gaze carefully resting upon your features to search for any sign of discontent or restlessness. Of course, she found none. “But I know y/n, and if she had a problem with it she would have stood up for herself and said something about it.”

The siblings watched as you conversed with various guests, your smile sincere as you spoke with the people you would soon help rule over as Fire Lady. Shifting in your seat as you crossed your legs, Zuko took note of the way the slit of your skirt had partially opened to reveal your bare leg. Wordlessly and without interrupting your conversation, the Fire Lord shifted the fabric so that your skin was kept from prying eyes. He didn’t care in the slightest if anyone saw, but he knew you would be embarrassed if guests began to question your way of dress, so he took it upon himself to fix the problem for you.

“I think it’s a love language thing,” Katara had explained after removing her attention from the scene and returning it to her brother. “He’s showing he cares through actions instead of words. Maybe it’s the only way he knows how to.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sokka relented, though his features still displayed a mild sense of disgust. “But that doesn’t make it any less oogier.”

Maybe no one on the outside ever truly would be able to comprehend the dynamics of your relationship with Zuko, but it wasn’t for them to understand. He took care of you and loved you in the only way he truly knew how to, and you appreciated him endlessly. With Zuko as your soon-to-be husband, you knew you’d always have someone looking after your best interests. All the same, Zuko knew he’d always have someone to love and accept him for who he was.

You were a perfect match.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em