#Maybe he learned how in order to comfort them and let them know he loves them

[shitty-mechs-headcannons]

Heracles is really good at making hot chocolate or whatever the equivalent of hot chocolate is in the City

I don't know what your justification is but I'm here for it. I love Heracles people should write more fic about him

-mod andy

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[pandoraslxna]

ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)

The Na‘vi way

adult Spider x female recom reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard

Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴

"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!

Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.

Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.

Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."

"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"

The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?

For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.

As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.

When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.

"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.

"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.

A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.

"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.

"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.

"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.

Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.

"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.

He’s entirely too close like this, you think.

You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.

You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.

Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—

Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.

You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.

A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.

Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.

Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.

"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.

"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."

It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.

"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"

"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.

His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—

"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.

"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"

"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."

His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.

"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.

It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.

"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.

His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.

"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.

"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"

"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.

The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.

Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.

He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.

"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"

Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.

He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—

"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.

Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.

"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.

But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"

"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.

A smiles tugs on your lips.

"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."

His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.

Well. That’s new.

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting.  Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it) 

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA!  I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets.  Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.  

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody,  a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys. 

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country and western, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

 “What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?” 

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss.  Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke.  Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks. 

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you. 

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body.  The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close.  His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free.  It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you.  The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender.  "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me.  You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence.  You didn’t know how to finish the sentence.  You were so hurt and confused.  That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?” 

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.”  he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that.  Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you.  “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours.  The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,”  he whispered, as he looked down at you.  His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own.  “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so.  Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek.  With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.  

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes,  slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft.  Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer.  “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own.  He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline.  His other hand on your chest continued its exploration.  It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater.  The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that?  Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me.  I wanna hear you moan for me.”  

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater. Deftly he fumbled under your t-shirt and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat.  “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”  

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you as pleasure surged through your veins.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses.  “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.  

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase.  Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you. 

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor like raindrops and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there. 

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“It’s too much.” you said hoarsely  “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading.  Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

[thedevilspearl]

are they a dom or a sub — brothers & dateables

a/n: i’ve seen dom/sub headcanons floating around since the dawn of time and now it’s my turn. these are my headcanons (spoiler alert: most of them are switches) and i want you to know that it’s okay to have differing opinions, and i’m 100% down to discuss your versions with you, just be nice about it loll this is all just for fun <3

tags: all brothers + dateables, no explicit smut but consistent discussion of dom/sub dynamics so minors do not interact!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑  ➛  switch but dom–leaning. as a sub, he is so good and soft. it’s a way for him to accept and nurture his vulnerability with someone he trusts. but as a heavily dominant person, he takes on the dominant role most of the time — though, there are many times he prefers no dynamics of the sort and to just have sex as him and you. but going back to his dom side, he can range from hard to soft and it depends on many factors: his mood, your mood, the time of day, how much energy he has, if you two are alone etc. he does either really well, but he prefers to be a soft dom because he craves soft loving and intimacy over rough and lustful sex. but i will mention, as a hard dom, he loves a challenge so do him a favour and be as bratty as you can be.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  he is exactly in the middle as a switch. he’s neither dom nor sub–leaning, but perfectly balanced. and similar to lucifer, it all depends on his mood and the atmosphere. as a sub, he’s quite bratty. very moany and loves to feel pain (though, not too much). he has his softer subby moments, but he’s mostly a bratty sub and loves to be tamed (and punished). but as a dom, he would mostly act as a soft dom, or somewhere in between soft and hard, never going into full hard dom mode. don’t get me wrong, he loves rough and nasty sex but he can do all that without being a hard dom. he’s also massively into dirty talk and teasing, so even when he’s a soft dom, you’ll get glimpses of his harder, meaner, dirtier side even if it never comes into full fruition.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  ➛  we’re all convinced levi is sub–leaning, even he is. but i believe his dynamic can change greatly. he starts as a sub because he feels more comfortable with someone else taking the lead while he’s learning what he likes and dislikes, and also what you like and dislike. but his subby–ness can get repetitive and unexciting really quickly. he may be a brat sometimes and would prefer punishments like orgasm denial or no touching over pain–inflicting punishments. but most of the time as a sub, he is so good and sweet, obeying every order like a zealous golden puppy who worships you. later on, he explores his dominant side and he is fully committed to being a soft dom. sex with dom levi is like having sex with your best friend; he’s always praising you and asking if you’re doing okay. he can still be rough (and mean, if you ask for it), but that only makes him eager to be more affectionate.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍  ➛  is a switch but let’s talk about his dom side since we all love to think about rough, mean dom satan. he can be a soft dom and i do headcanon him as one, but he is better suited in the role of a hard dom, particularly when he needs to release his pent up frustration. he needs someone who can take all of his rough, mean energy whilst also accepting his genuinely caring and affectionate side. what i mean to say is, during sex, you would mostly see hard dom satan, but afterwards, it’s nothing but soft and loving dom satan to take care of you. as a sub, he also also better suited as a hard sub. he wants you to test his limits. make him cry. make him scream. make him beg for more and make him beg you to stop. he wants you to treat him in a way no one else would dare to treat him and he very reluctantly wants to be put in place.

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒  ➛  hard dom and hard sub for asmo are a no–no. the hardest he will go is calling you mean names (but they’re somehow always mixed in with praise), maybe spanking and a little bit of hair pulling. oh, and he does love to see you cry. rough sex is fine but with the way he speaks to you so softly and teasingly, it can hardly be considered rough, even when you’re brought to tears. if you want to see dom asmo, be prepared for him to always be a soft dom. as a sub, he may lean towards some harder things, but again, no matter how kinky or experimental sex with asmo is, he has his charming ways and it will turn out soft in the end. he’s kinky but he’s soft mostly all the way. and i would say he is more dom–leaning as a switch. sex is his expertise (sexpertise?) so he prefers to guide the way in the bedroom.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁  ➛  dom/sub dynamics aren’t that important to beel but when it does play a part in sex, he is most naturally dom–leaning. sub beel has never crossed my mind and it probably never will. even if you are in control, he just can’t find himself in a sub mindset. but if it were the other way around, he could potentially slip into a dom mindset. beel is the demon most in touch with his animalistic nature, and that’s why it’s easier for him to be a dom. i would not categorise him as either hard or soft but rather just someone who likes to be in control sometimes. he can give you a good, hard fucking, but that doesn’t mean he’s a hard dom. he can also be a lot more gentle, and that doesn’t mean he’s a soft dom either. it’s hard to label him specifically, so i’ll leave beel as dom–leaning.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑  ➛  belphie as a sub is a dream. he is so whiny and bratty, just imagine how he moans....i just know he makes himself sound especially pathetic when he’s in his subby persona. he likes being slapped, he likes being brought to tears. but he’s a switch and as a dom, he loves to do those exact same things to you. he can be quite confusing as a dom because he is soft and slow in his movements, very rarely fucking you fast and hard. but it’s in his words and sadistic behaviour where his hard dom shines. so physically, he’s a soft dom. but mentally, he’s all up in his hard dom space. he’s also the type of dom that will demand sex whenever and wherever he needs it which definitely boosts his hard dom side. he’s so mean with his words but he’s caressing your face and wiping your tears at the same time. dom belphie to you is exactly how he wants you to be with him when he’s a sub.

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎  ➛  the demon lord is probably the biggest (or second biggest after mammon) switch in the entirety of obey me. he is a flip–flop in the making. he can bounce from one end of the spectrum to the other in an instant. his dom/sub dynamic is literally so dynamic that it gives you whiplash. with most switches, if they begin the session as a sub, they will most likely finish as a sub. but dia can switch during sex, going from dom to sub or vice versa. maybe even switching three or four times, depending on how long you go at it with him. he can go from hard to soft and soft to hard. he knows how to read the room, how to read you and because his mood is so changeable, you need to be able to read him too. sex with dia requires a whole lot of understanding and chemistry. if you don’t have it, the sex can be too confusing that it becomes unenjoyable. but if you do have it, then it will be the best sex you’ll ever have.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒  ➛  he is another one that i rarely see as a sub, if at all. i don’t think barbatos has any strong sexual preferences or kinks in general. and while they do exist, sex just isn’t a huge ordeal to him. but during those times when he is excited to experiment with sex, he would be a dom. he can be a soft dom but i don’t think he’d be particularly good at it, mediocre at best. he would excel more as a hard dom. he’s the type of person who will have a dark and rough sexual side, but is wholly soft and affectionate outside of the bedroom. he’s a dom but if you wanted to be the dom, he wouldn’t mind acting as a sub — just know he wouldn’t enjoy is as much. but, he also wouldn’t mind having to compete with another dom until one of you submits; that would be fun.  

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍  ➛  now this angel can confuse you at first but first impressions are always deceiving. dom/sub dynamics are not heavily implemented into his simeon’s sexual preferences but i must say, when they do come out, it is absolutely stellar. simeon is a dom, a soft dom most of the time but every now and then, he’ll show himself as a hard dom. it’s very rare but it’s the kind of thing that lingers in your brain for weeks after it happens. even if you beg him to give you that mean and nasty sex, he won’t do it unless he decides to, or when he feels the need to. but as a predominantly soft dom, he is sweet and caring, a little bit of a tease (read: a lot) who loves to test your limits but in a gentle way. he can be subby at times, but he prefers to guide the sex as a soft, gentle dom or have sex with no dom/sub dynamics over being the sub.

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  i think he’s lived long enough to have a very aged libido. it’s hard for him to be excited about sex until you come along and it’s just like having sex for the first time. he’s discovering his sexual preferences, old and new, with you and he is steadily paced with his experimentation. i want to say he’s a switch but i also believe he doesn’t enjoy being a sub much. so he would definitely try being a sub, but will learn that he is more suited to the dominant role. he’s spent so long being powerful and almost uncontrollable, so being out of control upsets his personality. as a dom, he is quite balanced and i think he mostly relies on your preferences and moods. he finds it hard to decide for himself so if you want it hard, he’ll give it to you hard. and if you want it soft, he’ll give you all the love in the world.

[aureatchi]

˚୨୧ ｡ ˚ IT WAS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER . — osamu dazai

⟢ SYNOPSIS. after a long week of work, you and your best friend retreat to a bar to distract yourself from your responsibilities. however, you find it unfulfilling and decide you need to just go home. as you head out the door, you bump into someone more than familiar.

a/n. it’s the way i immediately thought of him when i first heard this song. <3

info. fem!reader. exes to lovers!au. we have the full recipe…fluff; light angst; gets really sugg. mentions of drinking; scars. your best friend hates dazai. hc dazai doesn’t bandage his tummy. (ᗒᗜᗕ) ﾉ wc. 3.6k

“It’s just a lot.”

You just finished the final shift of your job for the week, and you were more than exhausted and burnt out. You had called your best friend immediately after to get some comfort, and despite how busy she was, she agreed to meet you for some drinks and listen to you rant.

“My coworker’s getting on my last nerve,” you continued venting. You had already told her about select crappy people you had to interact with during the day and then your boss, who regarded you with no empathy whatsoever. “Today’s already been bad enough, and then she decides to just pile more stress on me.”

You swished the ice around your emptied glass, creating clanking sounds while coating the cup in water.

“Maybe you should just quit,” your friend replied, taking a sip out of her glass. “I would’ve been long gone if I had to deal with annoying people all around, nine to five.”

She looked up at you. “Besides, you’re well off anyway. I don’t see why you’re working. Are you…trying to distract yourself?”

You sighed. She knew you too well.

“Love, don’t tell me you’re still hung up over—“

“It’s not what you think,” you cut her off, yet you avoided eye contact. It was easier to lie that way. “I just feel I’d have too much free time on my hands. I’m not sure what I’d do with it.”

You let out a dry chuckle. That wasn’t wholly false in itself, either. At your age, everyone had their own things going on—your best friend being an example. Therefore, you couldn’t find much time to go out with any of your friends, and you weren’t interested in meeting new people either.

You could blame your job. Perhaps the ones you meet every day put a sour taste on your tongue, making you lose any desire to interact with strangers. You could blame your exhaustion. Or…

“Honestly, I think that calls for someone new in your life,” your friend replied. “That’ll surely cure your boredom.”

“No thanks. I don’t feel like dating anyone right now.”

“I’m just kidding,” she laughed. “But it’d help you feel less lonely, no?”

“…you didn’t believe my answer to your earlier question, huh?”

“No. Of course not.”

It had been over five months since you broke up with your boyfriend. You tried seeing people after that, but in truth, you were only using them to try to move on.

Once you realized that it wasn’t working and it wasn’t fair for others to play with feelings, you decided to take on a new job on the other side of the city so you’d still get out of your house and have a change of scene.

“…But you know what? Screw him. I will keep saying again and again, I hate that man. Suicidal maniac. I know it’s hard, but you’re too hot to keep dwelling on this. You need to learn to move o—”

Your friend’s phone suddenly buzzed, interrupting her little lecture.

She picked it up, and you waited for her to finish speaking.

“I’m sorry, I think I got to go. I left my boyfriend with my cat, and he just told me he lost her already…” she shook her head. “Have you gotten out everything you wanted to say?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied. “I think I’ll go home soon, too. Not really feeling it.”

She stood up, handing you a bill with a smile. “Drinks on me tonight. Don’t complain—I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer. And we didn’t order much anyway.”

“That’s okay; I appreciate you coming to listen to me anyway,” you replied.

“The offer is still open, by the way! If you want to find someone, I’ll schedule a date by this weekend.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks.”

…

You only had one more drink before you decided to leave, still mostly sober—you figured it’d just be best if you’d take care of yourself at home.

Another thing your job was also distracting you from was witnessing all the relationships around you. Your friend had to go home for her boyfriend. You noticed a few couples at the bar you were at. You’d probably see more when you walked outside.

Not that you minded, is what you tried to tell yourself every single time. You didn’t have to be with someone. It’s okay to have a break.

But was it okay to still have a particular person at the back of your head all the time?

You stood up, leaving the bill and tip for your bartender before you walked toward the door. Opening it caused the bell attached to it to jingle. You were greeted by a cool, night breeze—and someone’s torso.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you replied, too tired to even catch the face of the person you bumped into.

But you had no choice when the man didn’t move out of the doorframe to walk in or allow you to pass.

So, when you met the almost-surprised, caramel-kissed eyes on a face framed with dark brown bangs and wavy hair, you felt your heart plunge into your stomach.

You whispered his name—almost scared to say it, the syllables feeling foreign from not having spoken it aloud for months.

“…Osamu.”

He was halfway through saying your name when you dashed for the exit, shoving him aside and speed-walking out.

“Wait! Bel—“ he caught himself and shouted your name once more.

You started walking down the parking lot, unsure of where you were trying to go, except away—away from Dazai. You had forgotten this bar was in the heart of the city. You didn’t know Dazai came to this one, but you knew his work was somewhere close.

“Hey!” you felt a breeze behind your back, and then a hand gently land on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“What…why are you following me?”

You turned around, getting your second full view of your ex for the night.

His hair was a bit longer. He still had those bandages on his neck—did he bother to change them out recently? His scent was as still as you remembered—grassy and toasty, a resemblance to green tea.

“I’m not sure why I’d leave a girl I know to walk alone at night,” he shrugged. “It’s dangerous!”

You continued walking, not responding to his reply.

“Where are we going?”

“Who’s we?”

“Aw, that was really rude.”

You ignored Dazai, making sure your stroll stayed a few feet in front of him.

You then entered a park, him trailing behind you.

“Why were you at the bar alone?”

“That’s none of your business.” You walked down the path, trees casting dark shadows onto the grass under the moon’s light.

“…And I wasn’t alone the entire time. I was with a friend, but she left to attend something.”

Dazai nodded, trying to catch up to your face. You immediately gave him more than enough space when he reached you, not wanting any invasion of your personal space.

“But you usually don’t drink unless you’re either celebrating or stressed,” he said. “And from what I’ve seen, it looks like the latter.”

You stopped again. “Again, it’s none of your business. Maybe you should focus on yours. You go and drink tons when you’re stressed, too.”

“Hey, I’ve actually gotten better at that…”

“You still ended up at a bar midweek.”

“But I didn’t even go in, no? I’m with you at a park right now.”

You were silent once again. But now you couldn’t complain that he was following you.

Why do I care if he drinks or not?

No. It’s normal. You’d care for the well-being of anyone you know.

You approached a set of swings in the center of the park. It had been ages since you’d been on one, swinging back and forth in carefree.

“Want me to push you?” you heard Dazai over your shoulder when you examined the equipment.

“Heck no,” you responded.

“Why not? It’d be fun!” He moved closer.

“No! I’m not sure if it’d even carry me,” you laughed. “It’s for kids.”

“You can try it. Just sit. And I’ll catch you if it breaks—“

“Shut up. I can catch myself.” You lowered yourself onto the seat, seeing that the metal poles did hold. You swung yourself a bit to test if it’d keep up your weight.

“It works.”

“Great! Can I push you now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I won’t kill you, bel—I won’t! I promise.” Dazai childishly held out a pinkie toward you.

You sighed. “Fine. Just please don’t push me too high.” You clasped your pinkie around his.

“I got you!” You felt palms on your back, and then a light push that moved you forward, and then gravity pulled you back toward him.

Everything pulls me back to him—my mind and the universe both.

You were suddenly pushed higher, catching you off guard. You felt yourself fly multiple feet off of the ground, and you clutched the metal in panic.

“H-Help—Osamu!”

“You’re fine. You won’t fall,” Dazai chuckled. He pushed you again, sending you even higher than the previous time. You wanted to scream, but it came out more as a laugh.

“Is the thrill fun?” he asked while you were in the air, noticing your smile.

“Yeah, it is—HEY!”

Dazai had pushed you hard, sending you swinging all around the equipment, in a complete three-sixty.

“Osamu!” you cried, the momentum spinning you around once more. You couldn’t stop it—it was too fast.

You were clutched from behind, arms tightly wrapped around your torso to stop the swing. You could hear the sound of Dazai being dragged through the rocks below, but he was able to ground the both of you before you went flying again.

And you felt warm. Despite the evening’s cool air, you felt like you were encompassed in a fireplace’s heat on a winter day.

“Got you.”

You let out a giant exhale of relief. And then, you turned around in anger.

“I told you not to push me that high!”

“But I didn’t kill you, did I? You stayed on the swing the entire time! You were safe! Plus, I think you enjoyed it.”

You stood up, causing Dazai to let go of his arms. “I’m dizzy now.”

“Do you need water? We can buy some. And did you drive here?”

“No, I took a taxi.”

“Let me drive you home then,” he said.

“I think I’m fin—“

“Please,” he cut you off almost urgently, but then he caught his tone and reverted.

“I mean, many kidnappers disguise themselves as taxi drivers. Especially at night.”

“You’re still so cynical,” you replied. “Stop being so protective. It’s not like we’re…nevermind, sorry.”

You didn’t dare look at Dazai’s expression.

…

You each got a yogurt drink, and it helped soothe your dizziness immediately.

You walked by Dazai silently, but compared to earlier in the night, you were no longer repulsed to standing by him.

He opened his car door for you before getting in his seat on the other side.

“What have you been up to these past months?”

You asked as he found his keys, turning them into gear.

“A case. It’s something huge going on.”

Dazai’s work accounted for part of your breaking up with him. He was too secretive—despite you knew that he trusted you so much that he explained to you exactly what his job consisted of, and he only left details out to protect you from getting involved, you couldn’t handle it.

Maybe you were selfish for that. But you needed to know what your boyfriend was up to—if he was safe. Perhaps that was another reason why. You would never let him go if you knew of the exact danger he was volunteering himself in.

“I see. Sleeping okay?”

“If I do, sure.” He was suddenly reaching over your body, grabbing your seatbelt.

Your heartbeat fastened as Dazai hovered over you, pausing to look at anticipating eyes and a risky glance at slightly parted lips.

He sighed before fastening the buckle and moving away, acting like nothing happened.

…

You two drove in silence, you gazing out of the car window to admire how the city looked in the absence of the sun.

A song was suddenly put on. You looked at Dazai.

“Do you still like this song?”

“Yeah,” you replied. He had put on your favorite song, indeed.

You silently thanked him for it. The awkward tension to speak to one another had vanished; you could indulge yourself in music.

Until it ended, of course, but by then, you could see you were almost home.

“Osamu.”

“Yes?”

“This was a really bad idea. I hope I never see you again after this.”

“Probably, but maybe I wanted it to happen. Maybe I thought about you so much that I had to seize this opportunity.”

“What?”

“What if I hope to see you again after this?”

“You can go flirt with any other girl for entertainment.” He did a lot of that, too. Even if it was Dazai’s most efficient tactic for getting information, he had also said he simply couldn’t help it sometimes.

“I don’t find that interesting anymore.”

You looked at his distant, faint reflection through your window.

“…you think about me?”

You were answered with a nod.

Dazai turned, pulling you into your driveway.

“I’ll continue to even more after tonight,” he said. “Whether we see each other again or not. It plagues my mind every day. What I could’ve done better—how much you deserve that I failed to reach.”

He parked. “Of course, I’ve tried to move on. It’s the most fair thing to do for you. But if someone were to ask me, bella, saying that I don’t still love you would be a lie.”

“You’re selfish,” you commented.

“I know. I’m very.”

You opened the door, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you for driving me,” you said.

You walked towards your front door and then looked back at Dazai, who was standing by his side of the car.

You contemplated for a second.

“D-do you have something to do for the rest of the night?” you carefully asked.

“No.”

“Can you stay? Just for a bit. We can talk about things. And hopefully, you get some answers that will help you stop occupying your mind of me.”

You said that as if you were trying to convince yourself, rather Dazai.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You pushed open the door.

Dazai followed you as you walked through the house—through the hallway and to the kitchen.

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” he replied.

“Alright. Uh…feel free to make yourself at home. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.”

…

You walked into your room, first washing your face in the bathroom. You stared at your face through the window, noticing how pigmented your cheeks were.

Why did I do this?

You were in the middle of changing your pajamas when Dazai knocked on your door.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh—“ you hastily buttoned two thirds of your shirt before, “Yeah.”

A smell of your favorite scent immediately flowed into the room as Dazai came in. It was of the candles you had around your house.

“You lit my candles?”

“Yeah. I got curious because the flavors looked nice. I like them. The scent matches you perfectly.”

“Oh…thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t know how else to respond.

Dazai glanced around your room. Some things changed—you had moved some things around, redone the decor on your nightstands, changed your bed sheets…what he didn’t know was that you actually donated them after the break-up so you would never see them again.

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah. Do you still happen to have bandages?”

“Yes.” You had Dazai sit on the bed while you searched your closet for the box of bandages you would keep for whenever he came over. Unlike your sheets, you had kept them for your emergency first aid.

Or in case he happened to be in an emergency.

“What do you think you could’ve done better?”

There was a silence right after. You had hit Dazai with a hard question first.

“I’d stop disappearing so much without warning. I only realized how much I took that for granted when we stopped seeing each other. I would try to communicate better…” He looked down. “I’m terrible at it, I know, but I would try harder.”

“Why me? You could move on and find some other girl to treat right the first time.” You found the box, pulling it out.

“Because I would feel like a loser,” he added your name to the end of the sentence. “I was a total jerk to someone who loved me, and then I decide to switch it up for someone new and pretend to start on a clean slate? No, bella—I’m cursed with not forgetting and forgiving myself of the past. It feels cowardly.”

“Osamu, stop. You hurt me, yes, but you weren’t the only one in the wrong.

“I-I’m sorry.” You hadn’t apologized to him yet, through months.

You noticed his eyes almost widen, surprised.

“And I also forgive you. It took awhile, but I’m forgiving you of the mistakes that hurt me,” you continued. “And I’m apologizing to you too. So please forgive yourself. You don’t need to feel guilt.

“It’s only fair to you as well to move on.”

“Why, bella? How is it fair? How is it fair when the only person I want to see is you?”

“Osamu.”

You were right in front of him, the closest you’d been to him that night, discarding how he had tightly hugged you on the swing earlier. You were drowned in emotion that surrounded his desperate pleas.

“Can you please bandage me?”

“Why?”

“I miss your touches.”

You regret asking. He had no shame in expressing his thoughts, no matter what you two were going through. You regret asking, yet…

“Your coat.”

You climbed behind and rid Dazai of the top portion of his clothes—his vest and dress shirt. Then, you started unwinding the bandages on his arms, chest, and neck.

Gently, your fingers grazed the scars that hid underneath his attire, and his mind. Months ago, you had learned what every single mark came from after knowing where each one was—it was one detail Dazai fully opened to you about.

You were thankful you couldn’t see scars of the heart.

He would have thrice as many. Perhaps one of them would include you.

You rewrapped Dazai, leaving only his stomach unbandaged. You moved to do his neck when he paused you with his eyes, mere inches away from his face.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

You wish he weren’t so pretty. You would’ve been able to rationalize yourself quickly—you would’ve been able to give him a final answer without hesitating. But he ended up being the face of your dreams and the depth of your heart.

“I tell myself it’s fair,” you whispered. His nose was almost touching yours. “I tell myself it’s better that we’re done. But my heart isn’t so sure. It asks the same—how is it fair? To keep myself longing?”

Your arms were around Dazai’s neck with the bandage, yet you did not move to finish.

His gaze moved to your lips. A hand moved to your hair.

“Is it fair? If it truly is, push me away, bella.”

He didn’t force himself any closer, leaving you with the choice despite his yearning appearance. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours and the soft air of his breaths on your cheeks.

“Yes. It’s fair, Osamu.” You came to your conclusion.

Yet, you dropped the bandages, cupped his face towards you, and pressed your lips on his.

“But I’m selfish too.”

You moved your hands to waft through brunette locks as Dazai pulled you onto his lap. He held you tightly—desperate at the acceptance of your invitation.

Closer, along with the fresh scent of green tea, there was a note of sweetness as intoxicating as chocolate. You came to know this pleasant surprise every time you were pressed up against him, tucked well into his embrace.

A hand moved down your waist, tracing your curves. Meanwhile, his kisses became sloppier, changing course to your jaw.

“Bella,” he whispered.

“Osamu?”

“Too much? Just let me know.”

“Don’t stop.”

He planted his lips on your neck, leaving a mark when he moved to the next area.

“I don’t want to lose you again. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, pulling him down over you.

“Everything about you,” Dazai continued. “It’s enchanting. How you smile when you’re flustered—like right now, and how you react when I touch you here…”

His hand found its way under your shirt, and you started laughing. He knew how and where to draw every specific reaction out of you, including where you were most ticklish.

“Osamu! Stop, hah-!”

You let him stay hovered over you and left his curious hands to wander your skin. Dazai looked free of emotional distress for once—being able to calm just by admiring you. It was like medicine.

“Do you still keep a spare pajama set?” he asked.

“Yes. However, the guest room is being renovated.”

“It’s fine. A couch was a luxury for me at one point.”

“Or you…could stay here. And you can have your favorite side, the side closer to the window.”

“Because I always see how the sun’s rays lay on your skin when I wake up,” he smiled. “And how spellbound your eyes make me when you open them and the light hits it.”

“You remember so much.”

“I told you how much I think about you, belladonna. I remember every night that I’m with you.”

dazai listens to music w/ u if u rb. reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

[sednas]

[HOW'S THE TASTE?] — geto, gojo

꒰ ͜͡➸ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you know exactly from which twitter fanarts I took the inspiration from

pairing: dom!geto x brat!gojo x sub!fem!reader

tw: NSFW, threesome, oral (f receiving), beware the bisexuals 👹

geto never really considered himself being a lucky man, his whole life was made by disastrous events and dark and twisted thoughts occurring in his mind at midnight. was he completely healed of his past? probably not, some chains were still wrapped loosely around his ankles and wrists, but he was now learning how to walk with them. sometimes the incessant sounds of those chains dragging on the ground behind him became too loud and he needed to clear his head, to focus on something in order to ignore those ghosts creeping on his shoulders.

and it's during these times that he thinks that perhaps, luck has crept into the pages of his story. maybe those chains are just a small price to pay for having two beautiful puppies like you and gojo at his feet.

“faster.” he orders, getting more comfortable in his seat.

gojo grunts, his two fingers circling faster around your little clit while feeling your hands rubbing him faster too. your two bodies are glistening with sweat, you're both panting, hungry eyes devouring each other's gaze. the air is almost steamy, heavy with lust and desperation. a loud whine echoes in the room when you feel gojo's finger slowly making its way in your drenched pussy, slipping so easily inside, making your head fall back on your shoulder. all of this under the dark gaze of geto, relishing in the sight.

“fuck… you're just going to stay here or what suguru?” gojo breathes out, his cheeks flushed with a pink blush.

your eyes are pleading him to come too, but you know better. the dark haired man smirks, his eyes falling on yours.

“always the same who's complaining uh?”

the most powerful sorcerer has always been difficult to bend, his smirk adorning his pale face and that glint in his blue eyes that nobody ever seen except you and geto. that confidence is just here so geto can break it, they both love that game, and you can't really tell if geto always wins or if gojo always let him win. either way, you always end up with one of them buried inside you.

goosebumps of excitation run through your body when you see geto standing up, slowly walking towards the bed. gojo wears a confident smile, his finger still torturing your pussy at a slow pace.

“I don't think you've been good enough to deserve her touch.”

gojo whines as geto pulls his hair, his thumb grazing the soft skin of his cheek and you feel his cock twitch in your hands. just when his lips are about to touch his, geto turns his head towards you, still holding gojo's face.

“lay back pretty girl. we're going to take care of you.”

shivers run down your spine as you nod, slowly letting yourself fall on the soft covers, your head resting on a comfortable pillow.

“since you can't keep your mouth shut, why don't you use it for good?” geto rhetorically asks, his thumb softly caressing the bottom lip of the white haired man.

he smoothly guided him between your legs, as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sex.

“is this supposed to be a punishment?” gojo playfully asks.

he doesn't have the time to add anything else as geto pushes his head towards your heat, the sorcerer immediately moaning at the taste on his tongue, willingly opening his mouth to have more of your sweet pussy. they both smile after hearing your cute whimpers, your hand making its way through his white hair, pulling at them every time his nose brushes your clit. you're practically sure he's eating you out for his own pleasure, whimpering against your skin and lapping at your juices as if it was the best thing he ever tasted.

“does he make you feel good angel?” geto whispers into your ear, his body close to yours, his hand softly squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

no matter what can happen, you will always be their weaknesses.

your hips buck against gojo's face when geto pulls you in for a kiss, both of their tongues making you moan. with the way he's controlling the kiss, you don't feel his hand sliding down your body. you only feel it when he roughly pinches your clit, your whine muffled by his own mouth while gojo is smiling mischievously. they are both working perfectly together, geto's finger slowly working on your clit while gojo is licking you as if his life is depending on it.

“do you want us to make you cum pretty?” geto asked you, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your jawline.

gojo whined at the same time as you, feeling your thighs squeezing his head, your whines getting louder as you tried to say yes.

“why don't you beg us then?” gojo ordered, just before languidly trailing his tongue up and down your pussy.

geto hums in approbation, and soon enough the room is filled with your pleas, your body trembling in the hands of the two men.

“alright darling, go on, make a mess for us.” geto finally said, gojo greedily nodding at his words while repeatedly entering his tongue inside your wet entrance.

the dark haired pushes his two fingers a little bit deeper into your flesh, accelerating his movement around your clit.

”I want you to look into his eyes when you cum.” he ordered, his other hand slightly gripping your hair, forcing you to keep your head raised.

you obey, your eyes diving into the blue ones of gojo, his intense gaze fixed on you as he is fucking you with his tongue.

”delicious, as always.” the most powerful sorcerer answers, his big hands lovingly caressing your waist as you're slowly coming down from your high.

you cry out the white haired man's name as you cum, just before shakily whispering geto's name, your eyes raising to look at him through your lashes. gojo wears a greedy smile, getting on top of you just next to geto, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"how's the taste?"

“gimme a taste.”

jjk masterlist

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

[visionsofmagic]

when they’re your best friend but secretly in love with you. || jujutsu kaisen

short, fluff, no proofread, tried best to stay in character. • masterlist. • just came into my mind, hope you like it! enjoy.

will buy you lots of things from flowers to necklaces, rings to treats, cute toys to dresses all the time. just love spending money on you because the smile on your face, kisses and hugs you give are enough to make them spend their money on you. nothing is precious than you. will kiss you like they do it accidentally but they blush anyway when you kiss them in return - chuckling. will want to be beside you all the time - day and night because you’re their source of air, energy, comfort - safe zone. will cling you while watching a movie - will choose horror movies purposefully in order to hug you or even sleep on your chest at the end of the movies. will get excited every time you get closer to them intentionally or unintentionally - blushing, shuttering, losing their own reality and focusing on you only. will try to be the only one in your life, getting a bit annoyed when others trying to flirt with you and can literally write an essay about how he can treat you better - can be a boyfriend/girlfriend material for you than others which will probably conclude by asking them whether they are in love with you or not. after a few moment in oblivion, they will understand what you are asking, getting fluffy, will say yes lots of times until you kiss them to shut them and chuckle. also, will try to show off their skills in front of you, asking how well they deal with the situations, being proud whenever you praise them.

yuji, satoru, nobara, choso, mei mei

will be mess around you, especially when you both are alone and no one else is around you because they can’t calm down enough to think straight beside you. probably will smile more, chuckle more, and even feel more talkative around you since you give them good vibes. will teach you the things you need to learn - want to learn with great attention and focus. will get blushing when they see how you are amazed by their skills, saying how it means nothing - literally humble even though they are so strong. will try to help you even if you don’t ask for it because they love taking some of your concerns from your shoulders, being there for you all the time even when their hands covered in blood. will confess their love to you all of sudden - even can be at a moment of highness, after a great mission maybe, just saying aloud their love and when you ask them directly, will get nervous and ask, “what? no. no?” but eventually will tell you - not so directly but enough to make you realize they love you. will smile childishly when you say you love them back.

suguru, megumi, yuta, nanami, toge

will act so cool around you like they even don’t know you are exist but they do - oh, they really do and you have all of their attention whenever you are in the same place with them. however, will act calm down when you get closer to them, making your presence known and smiling widely - such a brat but pretty, cute, beautiful, attractive, nearly perfect brat they love. will make you beg for them to help you since you are looking so cute while doing so. will not get excited so easily but oh, when they do, they will make sure you feel excited more than them at that moment. will not stop themselves to getting closer to you because what you can do when they get right behind, top, down on you? - nothing. no, you like it too and will reveal this fact like it’s a simple fact. will kiss you back - deeper each time, not realizing you being weak with their touches. will let you be the first one who confess love, then, will think about it for a while, teasing you and finally, will accept that they love you back but will not tell it aloud, no, will use their body language to make you realize that. will let you tease them in return though because you are their brat, no one’s else.

toji, maki, sukuna, shoko

[celestialwhoree]

Hello! Can you write Lieutenant Ghost x Colonel or Captain reader, please! And take your time with it! Thank you 💗💗

I really did take my time with getting around to this whoopsie🥴 Anyways !

John Price retired four months ago, and to the surprise of everyone in TF141, had been replaced externally, instead of by one of them. Ghost, in particular, had not been thrilled with that information. Until he met you.

You'd been one of Laswell's most trusted associates, worked alongside her for years in all different military and CIA branches. Truly the cream of the crop. Despite all your acclaim, the 141 had always been a tight knit family, held together by Captain John Price. What if you couldn't fill his shoes? Keep them running like a well oiled machine?

He'd be the first to admit that despite he and Price's similarity in age, his Captain had been the closest thing to a paternal figure he'd ever had, in his own weird, fucked up and emotionally distant way.

Admittedly, you're beautiful, funny and completely magnetic - but you're not Price. Something about how - how seemingly flawless you are seems to only make you less approachable to Simon, like he'll say one wrong thing to you and not be enough.

You feel the exact same way about him.

Realistically, you know he's your lieutenant, he was Price's too. He should've been the next choice for captain. All of them could've been better for the position than you. Gaz had shadowed Price for as long as he was in the 141. Johnny was the youngest ever to pass the SAS recruitment test. Ghost was noted as exceptionally physically proficient on his file, and had been in the military since he was legally able. Not to mention, Laswell had raved about him to you. You can see why now.

When he lurches at your back, seeing you safely to your office like some loyal guard dog, you can't help but to feel so immensely comforted, like he's a storm, in which you've somehow found yourself in the eye, protected fro, the world outside. And Ghost, loyal as he is, will always protect his team.

The others had taken to you so well, instinctively protective towards the only woman on their team, although you've shown them time and time again that you can hold your own. Simon, however, is on a different level entirely. It's stayed the same since day one. Something in him calls to something in you, and vice versa, and where you go, he goes.

At first, you had thought maybe he was trying to suck up to you, earn your favour, but when he'd started getting in your space, memorising your coffee order and helping you with everything you could imagine, you'd quickly realised that your lieutenant, the big, brave Simon 'ghost' Riley, has a big fat crush on you.

The feeling is mutual.

Obviously, you've got to be careful with the way you go about showing it, especially in a professional environment where fraternisation is frowned upon. It's clear to the both of you though, the pining isn't one sided.

Maybe when you're fully comfortable in your position as captain, well settled into the team, and sure that no one will think that to only way you achieved your position was by blowing someone higher up, maybe then you'll act on your feelings. God forbid you want to. One thing you've fortunately learned in your months working with Ghost, however, is that he's a patient man. He's willing to wait, to let you get comfortable.

Good thing you're patient too.

But until then, you'll settle for the stolen glances with soft eyes, or the way he's always checking on you when you're in the field together. You'll savour the gentle hands patching you up, or the moments between sparring sessions when you sit there sweaty beside one another, just breathing, touching, being.

Pining!! Mutually!! fuck yeah!! They can't have each other!! (yet)😛

still in love though

just subtly

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter one:

Love You More

Series Masterlist

Next part: Wine and Dine

Word Count: 6,987

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Steve sat pretty in his office at the compound, he had changed from his usual work clothes into his workout clothes not too long ago, preparing to switch from boring office work to one on one training.

He had gotten a call a few minutes ago letting him know an agent was being sent to him for disciplinary action due to some unfavorable behavior.

So he sat and waited, moving side to side in his swivel chair with a grin on his face, anticipating he knew exactly who was about to walk through that door.

And just like he thought, you stormed in his office like a little grey rain cloud. Not a single knock on the door before entering, not a professional greeting, no eye contact.

Just you, plopping down on the less comfortable swivel chair across his desk. Arms folded, eyes on the pothos plant he tried his hardest to keep alive, and your face contorted in such a manor that gave away all your internal emotions. You were seething, the pinch in your brow and the twinge in your pout told him so.

He sat with a sympathetic grin on his lips as he waited for you to pull your wireless earbuds out so his words didn't get lost behind the music you seemed to always be listening to in order to keep your mind occupied and away from reality.

"Hi, Bug." Steve greeted his friend who had been sent to his office as if he had been through this many times before... because he has.

"Hello Roger Stevenson." You responded in the same tone, slouching further into the same chair you've slouched in dozens of times now.

"What did you do?" He questioned, just as dryly as he greeted you.

"Kicked an agent in the dick." You stated confidentiality.

Steve smiled. "Why did you do that?"

"Because he cornered me durning training and tried to scare me into dropping out of the program with you." You complained.

This was the problem nearly every single time you sat in that very chair. Women agents in the compound were far and few between, and women agents that were high up in ranks were even further and fewer. Not because they were incapable, but because of the way they were treated.

Steve saw the misogyny from miles away, he saw it every day, and he had to deal with it every day. The agent training programs were chalk full of toxically masculine men who very obviously felt threatened by the presence of strong women.

He knew every single woman agent by name at this point because of how many times he had to put the men around them in their place. He had done it a billion times before, and he'd do it a billion times again.

You were the firecracker at the compound. Physically and emotionally, you outranked every agent the compound had ever seen. You worked your way through every training program so easily that you had been 'randomly selected' for more drug tests than any of your other colleagues. Peers always accused you of being on steroids, the men cornered you, belittled you, sexualized you, and sometimes even went as far as to touch your body.

At this point, you found yourself in Steve's generously spacious office a minimum of twice a week. Most of the time it was because your commander always sent you for disciplinary action because the only part of the altercations that were ever caught happened to be you defending yourself, rather than the initial issue. The other times were because you snuck away to the only place in the building you felt like you could take a moment to regain your composure, maybe have a little cry if you needed it.

For a few months now, you've been undergoing a completely new program to continue progressing in your training. Four days a week after your normal group work, you had private training with Steve.

You were learning a lot from him, and all the time the two of you had been spending together had turned you and Steve into close friends but naturally, that fueled the fire of all of your peers. The tormenting had turned up to a level that had you seeing red.

Steve couldn't and never blamed you for all the times you sat across from him for having kicked, punched, or screamed at a colleague. He was proud that you had it in you to stick up for yourself, but sad that you even had to in the first place.

However, everyone in the compound could tell that the never ending abuse from your peers was affecting your mental health. Tony and Fury had formally invited you onto the Avengers team twice now, not only because of your skill set, but also in hopes of making the situation a little better for you. Both times you professionally declined the offer with high honor, and when Steve questioned your choice both times, it was always because you didn't think you were good enough yet. Shit, you hadn't even made it through all of the training programs the compound had to offer.

It was painfully obvious that you were over qualified for a spot on the Avengers to everyone but you. The words being viciously spat at you nearly every day by inadequate men had sunken so far deep into your brain that you started to believe their words to be true. So, more one on one training it was.

"What should your disciplinary action be?" Steve asked, leaning back in his chair.

You noted his work out clothes, then looked at the time. "How about five minutes of peace and quiet before you beat my ass for two whole hours of training?"

"Peace and quiet?! That just seems so cruel." He offered an apologetic grin.

"I deserve it. I'm a terrible team player, far to emotional to ever be a good agent." Sarcasm dropped from your tone. "I must be on my period today."

"Go assert your dominance over on the couch and take a breather, I'm starting to feel way to intimidated by your feminine energy." Steve joked. "I have a few things to take care of but I'll get you when I'm ready for our one on one today."

You nodded, and stood up before making the very short walk over to the cozy couch in his office. Having spent many hours here with him before, you always felt comforted by the suede nook and throw pillow wonderland.

There was always an unspoken sense of appreciation when Steve knew not to make a big deal out of what happened. Sometimes if he harped on it for too long it would just make you cry, and if he went and yelled at the agents who had put you in this position, they'd only come back and try twice as hard to deliver you your downfall.

So pretend write ups and stern talking to's happened to be the best way to go about it.

As you sunk into the couch, Steve got up and grabbed you a water bottle and a snack. Having already trained for a few hours today with a few more ahead of you, he wanted to make sure you were taken care of.

Squatting down in front of you, peace offering in hand, Steve saw all the emotions you were trying to suppress. "Oh, and as part of your punishment you're required to hang out with Bucky and I tonight at my place. We're getting pizza and watching movies."

Only then did your smile appear. "How dare you? It wasn't even my fault and now I'm being punished far beyond the offense."

"I don't want to hear it young lady." He stood up. "You do the crime, you gotta do the time."

"Well I guess I can't say no." You took Steve's peace offering. "What time are you expecting my appearance?"

"I'm off work after training you so just come over whenever you're ready." He shrugged, moving back to his desk.

"I'm gonna shower and nap after this." You raised an eyebrow.

"Just as you deserve." Steve agreed as he sat down and fixed his eyes on his computer screen. "Your cruel and unusual punishment of peace and quiet starts now."

Feeling appreciative of Steve, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back onto the cushion. Trying your absolute hardest to meditate the anger and sadness out of your body, it was difficult to not allow yourself to sit in the emotional puddle of despair that these altercations constantly left you in.

Had it not been for Steve, you would've quit this job and ran far, far away by now. Every work day was proving to be a mental and physical hurdle that was starting to slowly chip away at your spirit, but you had no choice but to truck along considering you've already made it this far.

But eventually sunshine, rainbows, and a hot, cheesy slice to pizza consumed your thoughts to create a calmer peace of mind. That was until all of the green meadows and greasy goodness was cut off by a pillow gently whacking you in the face.

Upon ripping your eyes open, and the same seething pout returning to your face, the soldier stood proudly before you, hiding his invasive laughter by biting his tongue.

"You know, if you weren't my higher-up I'd kick you in the dick too." You grumbled.

All of Steve's self control broke free at your words, and his laughter sounded through his big and beautiful office. "I wasn't sure if you were awake or not."

"So the solution was violence?" You questioned, trying to hide your amusement. Though you could put on a pretty good act, you couldn't imagine a world in which you would ever be genuinely angry at the lump of wholesome goodness in the form of your big, strong best friend.

"That wasn't violent, that was a creative solution!" He smiled widened as your lips tugged upwards. "I chose the softest one!"

"I'll find a creative solution to get you back for that." You playfully threatened. "I know where you live."

"Can you find a creative solution to getting up off the couch so we can get training started?"

You let out a fake cry of complaint "but Stevie, my legs are so sore."

"You're being worked way too hard, we'll take it easy today." Steve offered you his hands to pull you up off the seat. "We can focus of hand to hand combat, give your legs a good break."

"No, it's fine. We can do tricking like you originally planned." You denied. Your hands found his, and he pulled you up with ease.

"Tricking is a martial art that relies mainly on your legs." Steve challenged, letting go of your hands when you were steady on your feet. "I don't think it's a good idea for today. Let's do it tomorrow instead."

"It'll be okay, I can to it." You shook your head.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Steve started walking out of his office towards the private gymnasium the two of you trained in together. "I know you can do it, but I'd rather you properly recover than prove a point."

"...it's not to prove a point." You stated, trailing behind him like a puppy. "I'm just trying to be a good little agent and do my best."

"Your worst is better than most of the other agents best." He looked back at you with a grin. "So there's no harm in waiting until tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, Captain."

Though Steve has made it abundantly clear many times that you didn't have to prove your worth to him, you harbored a deep sense of disappointment in yourself for letting that complaint slip passed your lips.

He would've wanted you to feel comfortable expressing your bodies needs and limitations. In fact, he reminded you all of the time that recovery was just as important as the training itself. But you wanted to be capable of doing it all without a single peep about your discomfort.

You wanted to be mighty, you wanted to be strong, you wanted to prove your worth.

Your friend always knew your value even when you couldn't see it, so he made a habit out of advocating for your needs when you wouldn't. While you studied him to become a better fighter, he studied you just as hard. At this point he knew what every single one of your facial expressions meant, he sensed your attitude change before you expressed it, he was an expert in your body language, and was knowledgeable about your body in general.

If you weren't able to properly take care of it, he would. With the most careful respect anyone has ever given you before, Steve knew you better than anyone else in your life.

Although he took training a little bit easy today, he never stopped letting prideful compliments slip past his tongue every time you nailed a new move on the head, or every time he noticed an improvement. Even if you didn't do something so well, his critiques always started with a compliment on your brave attempt and never ended with a belittling statement.

Training with Steve always ended with a hug, or a high five if the two of you were far too hot and sweaty to want to touch each other anymore, then he'd remind you to get some rest, drink some water, and fill your belly with lots of food.

Today was no different, and as he ended the session with a big hug and words of affirmation, your mind felt a whole lot clearer than it did when you initially stormed into his office.

You said goodbye to him, but not for long because not even two hours later, you were knocking on the door to his cozy apartment in the compound.

Most people in the compound lived in barracks. A few agents to a room, with a community living situation for kitchens, living rooms, and bathrooms. The only exceptions to this were the Avengers who got their own little apartments in a private sector of the compound and..... well; you.

You were initially assigned to the barracks just like everyone else, but much like the rest of your personal journey here at the compound, the living situation got complicated.

Not only were you getting bullied and harassed while you were working, it started seeping into your living situation too. Sleeping, showering, changing your clothes, there was not a single moment in which you felt safe and confident that you weren't about to get caught in the crossfire of an angry colleague.

So after one too many incidents, your commander moved you to an apartment to yourself. It was away from the avengers and all the other agents, so even though it was nice to have a place for your own, some days it also felt isolating.

Thats why you loved hanging out with the boys. Sometimes you just needed some comfortable interaction with people you trusted in places that felt like home.

Before your hand even made it back to down to your side, the door swung open.

"You know, you and Bucky both have a key to my place. I don't understand why you guys still knock." Steve was on the other side, now wearing a white T-shirt and some cozy pants. A smile stretched across your lips and he gave you the stink eye. "I also don't understand why you showed up to pizza and a movie like that. Especially when you said you were gonna take a nap."

Usually the dress code for his house was strictly cozy clothes only. But you now had a full face of makeup, your hair was curled to perfection, and your outfit definitely didn't look comfortable.

"There was a small change of plans." You shrugged, walking past him entering his place before kicking your shoes off in the entryway.

"What do you mean change of pla-"

"Bucky!" Your smile widened when you saw your other friend sitting on the couch.

Immediately standing up, Bucky approached you and wrapped you up in a big hug. "Buggy! It's been too long!"

"It has been too long, and it's all your fault" You joked, enjoying being wrapped up in his arms.

"How is it my fault?" He asked, pretending to be offended.

"Because you went on that mission a few weeks ago!" You reminded him.

"Well then it's your fault too because you left on a mission the same day I got home." Bucky disagreed, letting you go.

"Maybe if less people in the world were so needy and evil we'd be able to see each other more." You noted, plopping down on the couch.

"Why do you look so pretty?" Bucky questioned.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Steve added.

"Because I'm going to watch a movie with you boys... then maybe going out with a ...friend right after this." You sneakily explained knowing damn well they were about to hate what you were saying.

Like it was choreographed and synchronized, they looked at each other, then turned their heads back to you with a glare.

"You're seeing Harvey, aren't you?" Steve deadpanned.

"If I was, why would that be so bad?" You questioned.

"Because Harvey is your ex boyfriend. Emphasis on the ex." Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"No he's not. We didn't break up, we simply took a break. Those are two completely different things." You defended yourself knowing they both hated Harvey's guts.

"Taking a break is breaking up but just so much worse. He's just hurting your feelings more and dragging you along." Steve vented with his hands on his hips, like a disappointed dad.

"Exactly. And everyone knows he's one of the worst Agents in the compound." Bucky sassed, sitting next to you on the couch. "He's not nice, he doesn't have a good personality, he's falling behind so far we don't even feel comfortable sending him on missions anymore."

"He does have a good personality, he just doesn't show his true self to a lot of people. He's closed off to the outside world." You defended him.

"He's friends with all the douche bags that torment you every day. How could you be okay with that?" Steve dropped his tone to a more gentle one as he sat on the side of you opposite Bucky.

"I still haven't forgiven him for breaking your heart not even 3 months ago." Bucky reminded you of when he broke up with you over text, just to beg for you back not even a full week later.

"I know on paper it all looks bad, but you guys just don't get it. You won't understand unless you see it from the inside like I do. He can be really sweet, and he is a good agent, he just lets his dumbass friends distract him too much." You continued your defense with a shrug. "He's a Scorpio."

"Oh please" Bucky laughed. "Don't bring astrology into this."

You leaned back onto Bucky's arm and let your legs rest over Steve's lap. If you had to hear their lecture, you at least deserved to be comfortable.

"What does that even mean?" Steve questioned curiously.

"Scorpio's are kind've intense." You explained. "They're mysterious and charming, but sometimes vindictive. Harvey feels things strongly, and acts on his feelings immediately with not much to rationalize his behavior."

"Yeah, vindictive is definitely the right word to describe him" Bucky backhandedly agreed, slinging his arm around your shoulders allowing you to get more comfortable.

"What am I?" Steve asked.

"A cancer, I think." You smiled. "Let me look it up. Your birthday is the Fourth of July, right?"

"You know me so well" Steve nodded.

Your fingers typed on your phone and Bucky watched the screen. "I'm a Pisces." He stated.

"Okay, Steve. Cancers are soft, loving, creative and nurturing. They care deeply for the people they love and are uniquely in touch with their emotions. Cancers are able to handle all the roles their counterparts get lost in, they are chivalrous but are sensitive and easily emotionally wounded." You read the google search to them.

"Okay you can stop now, that made me feel vulnerable." Steve joked with a smile.

"That's Steve if I've ever heard it." Bucky agreed that the description matched him perfectly.

"Read Bucky's now." Steve encouraged, poking your leg.

Your fingers typed quickly once again. "A Pisces man is kind and unafraid to nurture his feminine side. He has the ability to listen compassionately, show deep empathy. They tend to view attention as a gift, and only ever wants to feel loved and cherished. Oh, and they're lazy, idealistic, and use escapism as their main coping mechanism."

"Awww, that's just like our sweet little Bucky boy." Steve cooed.

"Now I feel vulnerable." Bucky momentarily hid his face in his hands earning your laugh.

"What's yours, Bug?" Steve questioned with a giggle.

"I'm a Gemini" You stated proudly. "Most people don't like Geminis"

"What's there not to like?" Steve cocked his head to the side.

"Well the most notable trait of a Gemini is that we have a strong ability to switch between different roles, interests, and perspectives with ease. Kind've like Yin and Yang all in one. We can be emotional and logical, introverted and extroverted, analytical and intuitive all at the same time." You explained.

"I still don't see the problem" Steve said.

"Most people take the duality as being two-faced. Almost like we will use it as manipulation or means to have a hidden agenda. But I think that's a false representation of what I'm really like." You continued with a shrug. "I don't have an ulterior motive, I just try to view all things from all sides and find a good balance of logic and emotion. Like letting your heart and your brain make choices together."

"Being able to see situations from all angles is what makes you such a good agent, that's practically a super power" Bucky commented, lightly nudging you with his shoulder.

"Exactly. Understanding your enemy can let you get two steps ahead of them while still holding your own with grace and precision." Steve agreed.

"Float like a butterfly, and sting like a bee." Bucky added.

"That's exactly why I call her Bug!" Steve enthused with a big smile.

"Oh, I call her Bug because you call her Bug, but that makes sense!" Bucky laughed. "I thought it was because most people are scared of her at first but once you learn more about her, she's really not that bad after all!"

You looked up at Bucky with eyes squinted into a glare worth a thousand daggers. "Worms for brains!"

Steve's laughter at the comment didn't falter either, so you gently kicked him in the rib. "Hey! I'm the second person you've kicked today!"

"I wouldn't have to kick people if people didn't give me a reason to kick them." You defended yourself. "And I stand by that!"

Steve's hands held your two legs tightly in his hands. "Keep your legs closed and to yourself, ma'am!"

You gasped and clutched your chest in exaggeration before joking. "Are you calling me a slut, Captain?!"

"Steven Grant Rogers!" Bucky protectively clutched you closer to him. "That is not how we speak to women!"

"No wait!" Steve laughed. "That's not what I meant!"

“Mmmhmmm" Bucky sassed.

"I meant stop kicking people! Especially me!"

"I'm choosing to forgive you, under one condition." You giggled. "Please order the pizza. I'm starving."

"I heard your stomach grumbling during training, I ordered it 15 minutes ago." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, I love you so much." You professed. "Sweet, sweet man."

Steve's cheeks subtly warmed. "I love you more!"

"I'm gonna vomit." Bucky grumbled behind you. "Remember when he called you a slut?"

"I did not!" Steve shrieked.

You barked out a laugh before rolling onto your side to reach for the remote on the coffee table. "What are we watching boys? Lord knows this is going to take at least half an hour to figure out..."

And right you were, because the pizza arrived before the three of you agreed on a movie. You stuffed your bellies and watched the film before saying goodbye to them and meeting Harvey for drinks.

Though you didn't have high expectations of how you wanted the night to turn out with him, Harvey somehow found a way to dig underneath the bar you had set on the floor for him.

It was clear from the moment you showed up at the causal dive bar that he wasn't interested in speaking like adults, so through the entire duration of your first drink he sat and belittled you. It was as if his friends in the compound had taken control of his brain like a parasite. All of the reasons he claimed he could never get back together with you sounded just like the reasons most of the agents at the compound treated you like a piece of garbage.

You weren't even that good of an agent, he didn't like how much time you were spending with Steve, your invitation to the avengers was just coercion, and you spent too much time working and not enough time attending to him... even though both of you worked the same hours.

Needless to say, you cut him off before ordering a shot on his tab. You threw it back effortlessly without as much as a stink face or a wince, slipped the bartender a tip, then walked away without as much as a single goodbye to the man you once loved with your whole heart.

Maybe Steve and Bucky were right. They were always right, and you always ended up looking like a fool.

Much like a fool would, you cried for the entire walk back to the compound. You cried through the hallways up to your apartment, you cried while taking off your makeup and brushing your teeth. You even cried as you slipped on your pajamas and walked back to Steve's apartment, hoping that maybe him and Bucky were still watching movies.

But, you did manage to stop the tears as you slid the key in and unlocked his door. You sniffled as you stepped in and were greeted with a dark living room and his bedroom door shut.

Feeling a little defeated, you still wanted to be with someone. So you quietly made your way into his room and slipped into the unoccupied side of his bed.

You didn't know if it was the big, scary superhero sleeping next to you, or maybe the extra comfortable blankets and pillows, but Steve's bed was the most comforting place in the world to you.

He never questioned why, and neither of you even remembered how it came to be, but you made a dirty little habit of sneaking in and sleeping in his company when you couldn't fathom being alone at night. You had a lot on your plate, and Harvey was known for breaking your heart right before bed. The compound to you wasn't the warm and fuzzy place it was to Steve and Bucky, it was cold and sterile. So Steve was happy to let you come to the one place you found comfort whenever you needed

But there was one unspoken rule, and that was for very obvious reasons. No one could know about this. Not any other agent, not any other avenger. Not even Bucky.

Why? Well, the most obvious reason was that if anyone found out about how close you and Steve really were, especially your little sleepovers, all of the times your colleagues falsely claimed that you were having sex with him to climb up in ranks would quadruple in amount. You were already getting horrifically bullied at the compound, and neither of you could stand to add fuel to the fire.

The second reason being Steve was technically your higher up. Like a manager or a supervisor, you occasionally reported to him. Though him being your main disciplinary figure and trainer, he also occasionally did other duties surrounding your job such as deployment on missions, oversight on testing days, and training assessments.

Your friendship was already crossing way more lines than either of you have ever crossed in a normal boss - employee relationship. Steve had moral dilemmas about it every single day, he could see the dilemma in your eyes every so often as well. On paper it was wrong, but given the circumstances that his friendship with you was similar to his friendships with the avengers, Steve made himself feel better by viewing it as stepping stones to get you onto the team. Because once you were officially an Avenger, the two of you would be equals and there would be absolutely nothing wrong with your closeness.

The third and least obvious reason was the unfortunate fact that Steve was head over heels in love with you.

He really never meant for this to happen, but it hit him harder than a freight train the very first time he ever laid eyes on you. You had just ranked high enough to start agent training under Steve's devision. Anticipating a brand new group of recruits to whip into shape, especially with rumors about a nameless and faceless agent, Agent 306, who had worked their way into his devision in less than 3 months, less than half the time it took everyone else to get there, he walked into the group training room and his eyes immediately locked on yours.

Once they found you, he couldn't look away. You reminded him so much of when he was in boot camp before he took the serum. In a lineup of men that towered over you in height, you seemed tiny but mighty. Steve knew better than anyone else to never underestimate the little guy.

So he started down the line and put the assigned agent numbers to faces while trying his best to memorize them as fast as he could. You stood as tall as you could and improved your posture as he got closer to you. Admittedly, being in front of an avenger for the first time was terrifying and nerve wracking. The closer he got, the harder your hands shook.

Then, it was your turn. The man towered over you with his big, solid frame. But the second you looked into his big blue eyes, you immediately recognized the kindness and warmth that lived within them.

"Agent?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"306." You stated simply.

Expecting him to nod after he studied your face and move on like he did the rest of the agents, his eyes widened for a moment before his lips tugged up into a smile.

You were the most beautiful thing his eyes every had the pleasure of looking at, and while he had the permission, he took in all your features as quickly as he could. He remembered how much he thought you looked like women painted in fine pieces of art for centuries. Classic, timeless, effortlessly beautiful.

"306." He smiled. "I've heard a lot about you. You've got a big reputation to uphold. Keep up the good work."

Just when he thought you couldn't get any more beautiful, your eyes twinkled. He could tell you you were suppressing a smile to keep a professionally straight face. "Thank you, Captain."

Just like that, he moved on to the next agent in the line.

But to this day, he's never moved on from you. He tried his absolute hardest, but he just couldn't. So he shoved it down so deeply into his heart, and locked it up, and threw the metaphorical key into the middle of the ocean.

Since that very day, he had to work hard so just to make sure nobody would ever find out how smitten he was of you. He'd never look at you for too long, never pick you out of the line unless it was necessary, never overly complement your work, and never let his mind wander too far.

You had a boyfriend, and he was your boss. Plain and simple. He wiped the dirt off his shoulder.

But over time, your friendship blossomed, the harassment got worse, and one on one training with you started. That started a whole new level of trust that he simply could not break for you.

Training was intense, and when all the men around you tried to cop sneaky feels of your body, you and Steve grew a mutual trust in touching each other.

Sometimes he had to throw you, catch you, you had to throw light punches and kicks at him. There were days in which he'd have you in a headlock, maybe you full body tackled him onto the ground, maybe he had to grab your waist to correct you mid-flip to make sure you wouldn't snap your neck upon landing.

You were so confident in his ability to be respectful of you, that you were comfortable enough to sleep in his bed when you had a boyfriend.

It took so much time to gain that kind of trust with you, and that trust was very important to him. To accomplish what you two were doing, feeling comfortable and confident in your partner was make or break.

If you ever found out that he had a stupid little crush on you, he could only imagine it would break a majority of that trust. Immediately, the comfortable energy between you two would become very uncomfortable for you, and he simply couldn't put that burden on you.

If Bucky found out you had occasionally been sleeping in Steve's bed, he would immediately figure out his dirty little secret. It would alter the dynamic of your little friend group, and he would push and push for Steve to just tell you the truth in hopes it had some fairytale ending.

So yeah. Nobody could know about this.

Steve had enough conscious awareness to know that you were there with him last night, but not enough to remember you sneaking out before he was awake. You loved to avoid his questions about what had you down enough to not want to be alone, and you had gotten better at tactics to avoid the post sleep interview he loved to bombard you with.

You were so good, in fact, that you managed to avoid it all day until you walked into the private training gym anticipating your routine with Steve.

Oddly enough, he was late. You were never there before him, and he was never even a minute late to anything. So you took the time to start the music from your shared workout playlist with him, and do some warm up stretches on the floor while you waited.

Ten minutes later, he frantically walked into the room. "So sorry I'm late, had an emergency call down to the track-" he stopped in his tracks when he saw lingering sadness on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" You shook your head, touching your hands to your toes. "I'm fine."

"You look like you've been crying." He noted, cautiously sitting on the floor in front of you.

"It's fine, I've been looking forward to this all day. Can we just get started?" You asked, unable to fake a chipper tone of voice.

"I was late because an agent decided that working through a hangover was a good idea, and now there's vomit all over the running track. Could that violent hangover have anything to do with your tear stained cheeks, Bug?" He asked.

"Harvey?" You questioned.

"Bingo."

"I frankly do not care to hear anything else about him." You shook your head again. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm not responsible for any of his dumb choices anymore."

"You never have been." Steve agreed with reluctance. "Last night didn't go so well, huh?"

"We're done." You finally looked Steve in the eyes. "You and Bucky were right. I'm done being discredited and disrespected by the worst excuse for a human in this place."

"I'm so sorry." Steve's face softened in sympathy. Despite his internal happiness that you were officially done with a man who has treated you so poorly, it didn’t make up for the empathy he had for your sadness. "I know you loved him a lot, I can imagine this is difficult for you."

"Can we do that thing where we don't harp on an issue for too long so I don't get even more upset about it?" You asked, feeling as if you'd explode into a puddle of tears if he kept being so nice to you.

"Sure thing, we can talk about it later when work is over." Steve agreed, standing up and offering you his hands. "Did you drink last night?"

You let him help you up and let out a sigh. Technically, you weren't supposed to be drinking much or consuming any substances that could alter your sobriety just in case you got called on emergency.

"I did, but not enough to get me hammered." You explained, letting him help you up. "Just a cocktail and a shot. But I also ate and drank plenty of water."

"That's fine, you know I trust you to make good choices." Steve acknowledged, happy you told him the truth.

"Then why did you ask?" You questioned, dusting your hands off on your work out pants.

"Just wanted to make sure you're not going to throw up on me." Steve smiled.

"I think we're in the clear." You giggled.

"You're allowed to take a day off, you know?" Steve reminded you. "We don't have to do this today if you want to just take a day to pull yourself together."

"This is how I pull myself together." Your hands motioned around the room. "If I sit and do nothing all day, I'll lose my mind."

"Fair enough" Steve nodded in understanding, he was the same way. "Want to get started?"

"Yes please"

It took a bit for you to snap your mind into the proper mindset, but with a bit of guidance, Steve got you there. Once you were all in it, he had you practicing and improving skill sets he started teaching you last week.

About an hour and a half in, you were a hot mess. Your shirt quickly came off leaving you in just a sports bra and work out pants, your hair was tied back as sweat dripped down your face, and you were panting so much that all you wanted to do was lay out on the floor.

But this was typically how hard Steve pushed you, and that's why you loved him. You barely left your typical agent training procedures with a hair out of place. With him, you actually felt like you were making improvement.

The upbeat music and Steve's voice guiding you through how to maneuver in defense hardly even masked the sound of running footsteps down the echoing hallway.

Your commander poked his head into room to see Steve trying his hardest to punch and kick you, while you were moving tirelessly to try and block each attempt. As he watched you miss every single fist and foot, he couldn't help but to be impressed.

"306" He called out in a hurry.

You continued blocking Steve until he stopped, only then did you turn your head and stand tall at his order.

"Commander Bennett." You acknowledged, trying to catch your breath.

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers. We need 306 on an emergency deployment right now."

“Don't be sorry, it's okay." He acknowledged before looking at you. "Are you going to be alright?"

That question had too many layers to unpack at the moment. In general? Probably. After your break up? Maybe not. Going on a mission when you were already worn out? No, but you'd pretend like you were fine.

"Yeah, I'll be okay." You nodded, grabbing your shirt and pulling it back over your head.

"Good work today, we'll pick back up when you get home." He reached out for a high five which you happily accepted. "Stay safe."

"Will do, see you soon, Stevie." You slapped your hand against his.

"Get home quick, Bug." He smiled as you fast walked out of the room backwards. Commander Bennett already running down the hallway.

"Love ya!" You waved, your pretty smile sending a shockwave of physical pain through Steve's heart.

"Love you more" He smiled through the pain.

Then just like that, you slipped out of the door.

He waited until he could no longer hear your footsteps before quite literally back flopping onto the soft floor mats behind him, and took some long, deep breaths.

That little locked box that resides in the depths of his cold heart was desperately trying to work its way up. The contents of love for you inside of it was starting to ooze out of its seams, and you officially being back on the market after months of running back to the same man who was committed to breaking your heart on an endless loop wasn't helping.

He laid there with his eyes closed, letting the thick cushioned material cool his skin as he let the cold hard facts sink into his brain once more.

The only certainty was that he is your boss, your friend, and your own personal cushioned landing mat. He'd be there to catch you if you fell, he'd lend you a shoulder to cry on, and he'd help you get back up on your feet.

He was certain that you loved him as a friend, but he was most certain that he loved you more.

He would always love you more. More than you'll ever know, and more than he will ever tell you.

Next part: Wine and Dine

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers

Tag list is still open if you’d like to be apart of this bumpy ride 🌟

[jinnie-ret]

If ur taking rq still can I rq a skz x 15 year old girl in training (like that protection gic you wrote ) and how they react to her being good at producing, singing, rapping and dancing but they didnt know she could do all that until they keep running into her or maybe look for her because they ordered fkkd for her too eat with them and they see her in her rehearsals and in her dance practice room learning like idk an itzy choreo or sum by herself and they see shes improved since they last saw her do everything? Ig like a little Ace if u would like to put It that way!

It's ok if u don't want to or can't do this tho! Love ur writing💕

ace of hearts

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

summary: stray kids have nothing but good things to say about the upcoming ace of jyp.

I hope you enjoy! There's a small excerpt of a song Y/N has written herself which I actually wrote (it's a hobby of mine hehe) so if you want me to post the whole thing I'll do so, maybe as a poem haha

My asks are currently shut but if you want to be added to my taglist, do let me know! And if you liked it, please reblog and like! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Shoulder shimmying had never been so hard, but Y/N seemed to have finally gotten down the choreo to ITZY's 'Wannabe', the members of Stray Kids seeming to think so too. They had just been looking around for a room to practice in when they came across their young trainee friend, who they hadn't seen for a while due to their busy schedule.

A small applause sounded from behind Y/N, making her jump as she saw the door open and Stray Kids clapping for her.

"Ah! Hello sunbaenims!" Y/N blushed and bowed politely. She wasn't expecting to see them there, so absorbed into practising for her next showcase.

"Hi there!"

"Annyeong!"

"Wow!"

They all let out greetings as they walked over excitedly to Y/N.

"How has everything been? It's been a while since we saw you," Jeongin smiled widely at Y/N, trying to ease the obvious nerves he saw from her.

"Have you been practicing regularly? Your dancing has improved a lot," Changbin nodded his head in approval.

"Ah, you really think I've improved?! Yeah I've been practising a lot these days..." Y/N bashfully admitted, rubbing her sweaty palms on her leggings. Was it from exercising or from nerves? She wasn't quite so sure herself.

"We can see that. You're better at dancing and freestyling than us now," Lee Know laughed, praising the younger girl jokingly, but there was still a hint of seriousness to it that showed Y/N he was proud of her, and that helped her relax more.

"Maybe one day even Jisung will be jealous of your dancing skills," Felix laughed, causing the quokka like man to look over at him with a mock appalled face.

"Haha maybe I'll take his place as the ace," Y/N smirked, feeling comfortable enough to joke around with them. It wasn't a regular occurrence that she saw the boys but everytime she did, she was soon able to fall back into a relaxed state where it felt like she had known them forever.

"No way! You will never be as talented as me!" Jisung smirked back, yet he couldn't help but goofily smile back at her as he ruffled her hair.

"Well, we're glad you're practicing so hard. Would you like to have some fried chicken with us?" Seungmin piped up, his eagle eyes noticing that she only seemed to have some water in the room with her. Plus, he remembered what it was like being a trainee, and an offer of fried chicken would not be one to be turned down.

"Oh sure! If there's enough to go around!" Y/N clasped her hands together excitedly.

"Of course there's enough food! We're so proud of all your progress by the way, we can tell how hard you've been working, Y/Nnie," Chan praised her, as they all sat down together on the floor.

"Here, eat up," Hyunjin passed over a box of fried chicken to Y/N from the bags of fast food they had.

"Just remember to take a lot of rest too," Jisung commented genuinely, yet anyone could tell he, as well as the other members were very much so enthralled with the heaven sent food in front of them.

"Don't worry I do!" Y/N rushed out, before taking a bite of the fried chicken and wiggling slightly as she did a happy dance.

"You're so cute when you're excited!" Felix giggled as he saw her.

"That's exactly what Channie hyung does," Seungmin laughed along.

There was a moment of peaceful eating before Chan kept up the conversation.

"Oh yeah, we wanted to ask you something! Are you good at rapping?" Chan wondered, wiping his hands on a napkin.

"Well, I don't want to brag but I think I'm pretty good," Y/N shrugged, she had practiced enough and knew she was at JYP for a reason, and her talents certainly didn't go to waste when it came to rapping.

"Oh yeah? You actually rap too? I had no idea. Have you tried writing your own lyrics before?" Changbin got excited at the prospect of hearing Y/N rap.

"I'm not as confident in writing rap lyrics as I am in singing them if that makes sense?" Y/N explained, hoping it was understandable.

"I get what you mean. You must be very talented though since you can sing so well," Lee Know wondered.

"Do you happen to write your own songs too or do you learn songs from other artists?" Chan asked, interested in what her identity as a future artist would be.

"Oh I like to write my own songs too!" Y/N beamed. Now that, was an area she was proud of herself for.

"Really? Can you play one of your original songs for us?" Hyunjin said in a shocked tone, head tilting slightly in disbelief but wanting to hear her sing nonetheless.

The boys all stared at her in anticipation.

"Oh, sure... If you really want me to," Y/N became nervous again, because this was Stray Kids! Yes they felt like her friends but to sing her own personal works in front of them was still nerve wracking.

"Yes, we really want you to!" Jeongin encouraged her, offering that same reassuring smile as he did earlier.

All of the members were now eagerly waiting for her.

"Ok, here's a chorus I wrote recently," Y/N finally nodded, making the boys even more excited as she began to sing.

"Oh it's in my bones.

Hereditarily alone.

Surrounded by people,

But that gives no meaning.

It's in my bones."

The boys stared in in wonder, thinking the words were so beautiful and they loved the emotion she put into it even for such a small snippet of the song.

"Her voice is amazing..." Hyunjin was in awe.

"Yeah, you have a really good vocal tone!" Jisung clapped.

"And you wrote that yourself?" Chan smiled like a proud dad.

"Can we hear more?" Changbin said hopefully, nudging Y/N playfully.

"Well, I think I should now that I've sang a teaser for you," Y/N beamed, and for the next couple of minutes she sang the rest of the song to the boys. She even played a small backing track which consisted of an acoustic guitar, simple but sweet, building up towards the end of the song.

"I can't wait to see you debut!" Felix clapped with the other boys.

"You really will steal everyone's hearts, Y/N, you'll go far," Chan said, a big smile adorning his face as everyone offered their comments and praises to Y/N.

"Just don't let it get to your head," Lee Know joked, causing his members to whack him playfully and tell Y/N to not listen to him anymore.

"Thank you guys, it really means a lot."

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @hanjiquokkaaa

[ferrstappen]

the second time we broke up l Lando Norris series

a/n: HELLO, I really like this concept and hope you enjoy it enough so I can come up with a third and final part that I have in mind <3 thank you for your messages, sorry for the delay on the requests, but I promise I'll get through them and announce the 1k celebration! <3

PART ONE HERE

pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: teeny tiny allusions to sex, wear words.

genre: angst and some fluff <3

summary: there were reasons to try again, but maybe not enough.

You mourned the relationship, your first relationship, the classic way: crying, ice cream, sad love songs, getting drunk, bashing him with your friends who trash talked him with you, more crying, trying to get back up, realizing your worth. 

Learning to live with no Lando, your dorky friend and loving boyfriend. 

On the other hand, Lando was angry. He didn’t let himself cry, feel sad, be sorry for himself, be apologetic. He was resentful. Did you feel superior to him? How could you do better than him, a Formula 1 driver? 

Maybe it was his bruised ego talking, acknowledging you actually could do better than an immature F1 driver who couldn’t give you stability, the comfort you deserved, the attention he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) reciprocate.

He simply let go, detached himself from the situation and simply forgot about it; rolled his eyes whenever friends from home brought you up at the same time he was getting acquainted with other people. Lando Norris was just realizing the world was his and had to take advantage of it; he was wanted, he was desired, and he let it go to his head while walking the streets of Monaco, letting his eyes trace the silhouette of women who dedicated him a flirty smile.

He spent more time discovering Monaco’s night life, going out with other drivers and their social circles, leaving the club with a stunning woman by his side, gaining the experiences he lacked because everything he got to know was you. 

This went on for the entire break, he rapidly left the family home after Christmas under the excuse of clearing his head, feeling comfortable in his new home, new country.

It all lasted until the season was supposed to start, but it didn’t.

In the blink of an eye, he was cloistered; no more night life, expensive champagne, exotic cocktails, waking up with a different figure every morning before gently letting them know it was time to leave. 

For the first time he was realizing the hotel room was empty; one suitcase, one phone charger. The bathroom only had the miniature hotel goodies, there wasn’t a shampoo bar, some Lush shower gel (that he always used), no hair left in the tub, YLS perfume on the counter. 

The next day he noticed Charles had a new girlfriend, Charlotte he heard, and he saw a bit of you in her; she was shy, educated, wealthy family, an outfit that could’ve resembled yours whenever you blessed the McLaren garage with your presence, and she was also carrying her laptop in order to get some reading done while supporting her boyfriend.

That was the moment Lando noticed you were missing.

He didn’t know what to do at first, what are you supposed to do to regain contact with your ex-girlfriend with whom you didn’t have the friendliest of break ups? It’d only been a couple of months, but he was aware he was different and of course you would be as well. 

He tried to subtly ask Max whenever he flew over to Monaco (pretty much every weekend). His best friend only fed him small details here and there, knowing exactly the intentions of his friend, even if he tried to act all nonchalant and recounting his experiences with girls here and there.

But there was only so much Max could take.

“Mate, what’s the thing with (y/n)? Why do you keep asking me about her?” Max asked, Lando caught unprepared for the question (or outburst) of his friend. 

“What do you mean? Of course I want to know about her, she’s still my friend,”

Max rolled his eyes. “Mate, you’ve rolled your eyes during the last month whenever someone brought her up, behaving like a child throwing a tantrum and now you’re all interested?” Max questioned his best friend, trying to use an understanding tone so Lando wouldn’t shut down. “I can’t help you unless you tell me, mate.”

Lando took a deep breath. 

How was he supposed to tell him he missed you?

No, that was too simple, too ordinary, I miss you couldn’t begin to express the turmoil of feelings wanting to burst out of his lips after being muted and ignored for so long.

He enjoyed silence, but he missed your quiet humming. 

He had fun meeting new girls, but he craved your body under, on top, against his own, like two pieces of a perfect puzzle knowing what the other needed. 

He got annoyed sometimes when you asked him to keep his voice down while streaming, but he missed the scattered papers, books, class notes on the living room table, eyes closed and hair scattered over the table.

He hated his closet, full of hoodies, not one trench coat, denim or leather jacket, thick sweater. 

He despised his kitchen, only watching his trainer approved food, no ice cream, hidden Maltesers as to not tempt him, bland orange Jaffa Cakes he’d always laugh and call you a grandma for having them. 

He missed your careless figure, only a bra and thong or boy shorts roaming from the bathroom to the bedroom over and over again, always missing a t-shirt, a skin tint, a brush, a hair pin. 

He hated himself for forgetting to call his mum, being used to you reminding him to FaceTime her.

And so he told Max everything; the void on his chest, the shivers in his arms, the empty side of the bed, the rose scented shower gel, the tingling on the palm of his hand, the exhaustion of trying to find you in other people when he knew there was no one like you, the desperation of thinking of you with someone else, the fear of not living the future he made up in his head.

Of course, after he let it out of his chest his best friend was staring at him as if he grew an extra head. Why didn’t you say this before? Lando answered he hadn’t realized, he wasn’t aware of his feelings, eyebrows rising when Max snorted; half mocking, half shocked at Lando’s cluelessness. 

“Mate, you have to be honest with yourself if you even want a fighting chance,” Max knew if he didn’t tell Lando, he’d never be aware or liable of his actions. “Mate, she’s fine now, but it was such a low point, her parents didn’t want me to see her at first because I’m your best mate,”

Lando threw his head back in surprise, squinting, asking Max whatever he meant, because he was well aware of his feelings and what he longed for.  

I cannot be the one to break it to you, mate. Those were Max’s words, and Lando was getting annoyed. 

“Fuck’s sake, Max. what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? She’s the one who broke up with me!” Lando exclaimed with a raised voice.

Max groaned, an annoyed, i-can’t-believe-i-have-to-be-the-one-who-tell-you-this groan. 

It’s your fucking ego, Lando. It got so fucking big don’t even know how a body as small as yours could handle that incredible vision of yourself when you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home and have some pints together, you didn’t care on calling for our birthdays, we got some fucking McLaren merch you told someone to send us, nothing. Max felt as if he was slowly emptying his chest. 

Lando was shaking his head, the events he was hearing weren’t veridic, Max created a scenario that never happened. 

Max continued, ignoring Lando’s denial.

And we are your friends, (y/n) was your girlfriend. Mate, you forgot about her and she didn’t even have to tell any of us because she was making excuses for you. Of course you were busy, mate, but so was her and you couldn’t care less. Bob, I’m telling you this because you are my best mate, but please hold yourself accountable. Yes, she was the one who announce the break up, but it wasn’t because she wanted to.

Taken aback, trying to come up with a response, Lando realized his walls were crumbling, his heart was aching, his brain was making the connections, bringing back the actions he knew were wrong.

Fuck you, mate. I’m still putting on a good word and try to come up with something, but fuck you, Bob.

Nothing a hug, a pint and Call of Duty couldn’t repair. 

Three weeks went by where Max prepared the field for his friend, making sure every friend was on board, slowly settling ideas on their friends.

We all have free next weekend?

It’s been long since we’ve all hung out together.

We’ve all been studying and working so hard, we deserve to have a little break. 

Do any of you have any ideas?

Lando told me we are all welcome at McLaren for Barcelona, two more weeks. 

That’s when Max’s efforts and intentions were clearer. Lando wanted to make amends or bring back the group? Did he need something? Probably not, it still didn’t make sense. 

Your friends agreed with very little hesitancy, probably assuming if Max was proposing the idea chances were you were in the loop of sharing a space with Lando, especially after the circumstances. 

After everyone left you asked Max why would he put you in that position, knowing being back on the paddock would be full of awkward interactions for you, asking whether or not you were back with Lando, your name being thrown around on social media, strangers paying just a little more attention at you in classes, righ after you’d gotten over it. 

But were you truly over it? The situation, yes. The wave died, only focusing on your well-being, learning to be without him. 

Now, were you over him? Of course not. You missed his teary laugh, his messy curls in the morning, the glint in his eyes when he saw you get off the plane with your bag, the flutter on your stomach whenever he smiled at you, unafraid of letting you know how much he loved you. 

It was two weeks, but felt just like a couple of minutes, boarding a crowded British Airways flight to Barcelona, using the excuse of having too much to study in order to not pay much attention to what was going on, Apple Music choosing the worst song choices for your state of mind.

But God, you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more

I’d say you broke my heart, but you broke much more than that

Now, I don’t want your sympathy I just want myself back

This was a terrible idea, your thoughts of getting up and announcing you didn’t feel so good so the plane couldn’t leave the ground. You weren’t ready to face Lando and all the feelings it’d bring back. 

And don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

Ugh, and fuck this song as well. That’s the last thought on your mind before angrily opening a Maltesers family sized bag, preparing your nostrils to feel his perfume again, your hand to touch the soft fabric of his hoodies, your check for the courteous and familiar peck on the cheek. 

The hotel was the same, papaya t-shirts walking all directions before going to the track, with some people not knowing you, others trying to hide their surprise before saying their heys. 

And the rest was a blur, completely. 

He saw you, you saw him. 

Lando put on his best façade, a relaxed expression on his face, usual smile, normal stance. Neither you nor Lando lingered on the first hug, make eye contact after the greeting cheek contact, announcing you’d all go out on Sunday, Carlos would bring some friends and whatever. 

Max expressed his frustration to Lando, noticing he didn’t do anything to even get close to you, with the driver telling his best friend he was paralyzed, his mind betraying him and not letting him think straight; your perfume too familiar, too starved of your touch, too drunk on your voice. But he tried his best, supported by his friends, Carlos patting his back before directing him towards you, using the excuse of you catching up with Isa.

Isa ad her boyfriend quickly fell into a quiet conversation, trying their best to give Lando and you the space required while both of you updated each other on whatever happened since you last saw each other. 

And you were weak. 

Weak for the veins showing on his arms, the grip of his hands on the bottle, the light stubble on his chin, Lando throwing a joke on the only reason behind the light hairs even seeing the light of day was because you weren’t with him because, being honest, you would’ve told him to get rid of it. 

Maybe you wouldn’t fix things, but maybe you could get something from this trip. At least waking up next to him, stepping inside your bubble one more time. 

Crazy stuff how body and soul connect, completely silencing your reasonable head screaming to get away from him, trying to remind you of the tears, the disappointment, the crushed self-esteem, the sleepless nights seeing him with girls who didn’t always look like you. Body on the other hand… was ready to throw it all overboard just to touch his lips again, caress the soft skin, draw the freckles and moles decorating the beautiful canvas called Lando.

That’s why you agreed to leave with him, but little did you know Lando’s thoughts never mimicked yours. He just wanted to walk you to your assigned hotel room, asking if you could talk; maybe now, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a couple of weeks, but he needed to inform you he’d be waiting for the conversation, the uncomfortable heart-to-heart. 

And it happened.

He recounted the facts from his point of view: overwhelming welcome to the historic team, his name thrown around all over, everybody trying to get a bit of him, and in the attempt to please everyone, he neglected you and your history, disrespected the shared love and admiration, destroyed the strong pillars of your entire relationship. 

You chronicled every phase of your process: the denial, anger, adoration, sadness disappointed. How the situation decimated the vision you had of yourself, trying to understand why your heart ached for him still. 

He wasn’t afraid this time to let a few tears run down his beautiful eyes, quick to erase them and hide the quiver on his voice, to tell you he was willing to fight because after not having you, at the short age of twenty, he was sure you were his person, his meant to be. 

You let him kiss you softly; not rushing, not letting your hands wonder over known but forbidden places. With the only purpose of trying to keep up, inform each other of the feelings, the love, adoration and need.

It was like the break up never happened, you were flying and walking next to him during the next GP, kissing his helmet for good luck. You’d never deny the awkward moments when he crossed paths with a regular paddock girl with whom he shared a short time with, but you were able to understand.

The love only grew. 

This time, more mature and secure, no longer with books scattered and messy buns after days and nights of studying, you packed everything and moved to Monaco with him, taking his words to heart: you were his person, his meant to be. 

Then years passed, and what you thought was a more mature relationship, more secure, crumbled down with one simple DM telling you a model was exchanging messages with Lando and were partying together a couple of weeks ago, a little too close.

You never questioned his late nights, inconvenient meetings, new projects. Never once doubted him and his love for you. 

Now you are twenty three.

This break up was different. You were adults; more mature, with more to lose. 

This time he was crying and you were angry; angry as you stared at the kitchen you had carefully chosen the right cutlery, the right shade of beige, the perfect vase. You had jumped, even when he gave you no reason at all to do it, your love for him was that great, sacrificing everything you could think of.

For it to end up like this. 

He was crying. Not that fake crying with soft whimpers and sniffling. No, he was crying. 

Lando was aware of the weight of his mistake, his brain knew the outcome, but his heart was trying to hold on for dear life, working to get a reaction out of you, doing everything in his power to show the desperation trying to crawl off his skin.

How could you? How can you be so selfish, when did you become this sorry excuse of a man who couldn’t tell me to my face you were seeing someone else, you chose to humiliate me. How can you care so little about me that you keep breaking me? What did I do to you to put me in this position? The painful thoughts and reality shaking you and letting  

I am not seeing someone else! Baby, you flinched, yes we were exchanging messages and whatever but it meant nothing. You know a lot of influencers and fucking whatever message me all the time. 

Yes, Lando, and you answer to each one of them. That’s what you told him while rolling your tearful eyes.

I know it was right there, borderline, I didn’t do anything, we just exchanged some messages, she was flirty and yes, I kind of followed along but she always knew I am in a committed relationship.

“Are you trying to make things worse?” That was your honest question, catching his desperation but devastated by the situation. 

She found me. I was hanging with Max and Kelly and she found me, I don’t know how. I held her waist for like ten seconds and then she tried to kiss me and I backed away. Kelly even told her to go away, she even spoke in Portuguese, she can tell you that! 

Stil you some how are not aware of your actions, Lando. Please tell me how you still are the same boy I fell in love you years ago, but not in a good way! you’re immature. Again, once again I’m here, in this fucking position, how am I supposed to get over this? I do not have the strength to get back up from this because you’ve somehow taken everything. 

That was the catharsis, the implosion of your insides, breaking everything it came in contact with. 

At least, this time you were not staying with things to tell him. This time you were letting him carry the burden of fucking things up.

“I gave up England, I gave up festivities with my family because you were tired, created this whole new life because it was convenient for you, your career, your everything and the last, the only thing I asked from you was respect, because it’s not enough for you to love me, you have to respect me and you keep showing me you don’t and it’s heartbreaking because I don’t know how, after all these years…”

The silence was unbearable, your pain was deafening. Lando’s helplessness palpable. 

“I don’t know what to do for you to see everything I do, everything I sacrifice. For you to realize that I’m great, that I am not just a pretty girl for you to show around sometimes. I’m intelligent, I know that I am good,” Now you were choking, the sobs were excruciating even if your words didn’t make sense for Lando, but the feelings were strong your head was spinning.

“Why can’t you see that? Why do you put me in this position, humiliated once again when you are supposed to love me, respect me, cherish me…”

More silence. More desperation. More tearing. 

“Or maybe I don’t deserve that?” You quietly asked him. Because maybe you were the problem, the factor why things failed. Maybe you really were not enough, the image of yourself not real, your love not that important, your presence not very needed.

Lando shook his head and said no, of course not, to please don’t say that. 

“Maybe I have this image of myself and it’s not the truth, because I feel worthless, Lando. All I’ve ever wanted is to be enough for you, to be the person you come home to, and I don’t know why I failed again.”

He cried and denied everything, completely taking the blame, assuming the consequences but trying the last desperate resorts. 

One month later, he was with the girl on a yacht.

Two months later, you saw them entering Lando’s parents house, iron gates opening and letting you catch a glimpse from across the street of your parents’ home.

That was the last time you saw Lando Norris.

At least for now. 

[wonderlandwalker]

The Will of the Moirai | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Part three of Remember and Trying to Forget. Time passes in district 13 and Finnick wonders if everything will ever be as it was, but the moment everything feels like it did before, fate interrupts

Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, memory loss, blood, gunshots, major character injury, hurt/very little comfort, my love of Greek mythology, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: So turns out I lied and I wrote this before my exam but since I did I might as well post it. Look I tried to make it less sad but as I was writing it somewhere my thoughts just took over. If anyone knows how to make happy endings let me know cause by the gods we all know Finnick deserves one. I also nerded out a bit on the mythology part I'm sorry

Vocabulary:

Moirai = the three fates which determine the length of someones life

Atropos = one of the fate sisters who cuts the thread of someone's life

River of lost souls = one of the five rivers of the underworld, the river of misery

Lethe = one of the five rivers of the underworld, the river of forgetfulness

He knows someone died today, he knows because whenever this happens there is always an announcement. And he’s never sure why they do this, because to him it feels like they're just adding salt to a fresh wound. He doesn’t understand the custom, and he hopes he will never get the chance to learn either, hopes that Atropos will have mercy on him for a little longer. He doesn’t know who it is that passed away in the hospital wing, he hears them mention a name but he’s not listening. He can hear someone else, someone yelling about how the doctors did something wrong, how they messed up. And he isn't sure if it’s insensitive, but he does not care much, he can’t get himself to care because it isn't you. You are standing next to him and to him, all is right. For the most part

It’s comical almost, the way he gets excited every time, as if this is the last piece of the puzzle and the picture will be complete, but every time there is still another piece lost somewhere. And while he’s grateful every time that light of recollection passes through you, it’s not enough. It will never be enough because you do remember him, but you don’t remember him like he remembers you. He thought he knew what patience felt like, because first, he spent his time waiting for you to fall in love with him the way he had always known he loved you. then he was tested whenever you would wear something just a little too revealing to a party, making him wonder if patience really was a virtue, and if it was, he’d prefer spending his time searching for vices. 

Yes, Finnick thought himself a patient man, but as the days continued to pass by he found himself reevaluating the standard. Because he wasn't annoyed, he wasn't anxious, and he was surely not tolerable. So maybe this wasn't a question of patience, maybe, he thought, this was a test of his love for you. And with that thought, he went to bed every night. He went to sleep not with the comfort of you next to him, but with the comfort of knowing that this was a scrutiny he would spend eternity enduring in order to get you back.

With that he spends his days next to you, knowing that even if it takes forever, he will still be there. So he makes conversation with you during dinner and makes you laugh at parties, he makes sure everyone knows he is yours, even if you don’t know it yet. So when someone interrupts him from the hypnotizing effect you have on him, he tries not to pay it any mind, but unfortunately, that is not an option this time. Because the man he had seen making a commotion the other day is here, he is even more upset than he had seemed before, and this time he has a gun.

He sees the man step closer, and he is about to take his chances to try and disarm him when he sees you stepping forward. You take a step closer to the man while holding out your hands, you look as if you’re trying to address an easily startled animal. But it’s working, and Finnick can’t say he’s surprised, because who could say no to you? You’re trying to reason with him, and usually, Finnick would have said it’s no use, but he knows how persuasive you can be. He remembers how you were always the one to reason, even when he didn't see the point. You always had to try, because you had told him about the good of people, but you were the only one Finnick saw any good in. You’re telling the man about the importance of memories. Youre talking about the fondness you hold to your own memories, but they're not just yours, they're your memories with him. You’re talking about that day in the arena, you’re saying how scared you were, scared that those would be your last moments. But you didn't care, because you knew Finnick was alive, and he would never let the memory of you die. You’re asking the man about the woman who died, he still can't remember her name, but you do, you remember. And it’s working, it’s all working like a tower of cards put together by the gentlest of hands. 

But it doesn't take much to destroy what you’ve built, the smallest gust of wind can knock it over. He watches it happen, he sees the soldiers slowly and silently entering the room to try and put a stop to the rampage the man has caused. He sees it and he knows everything is about to start to crumble down. So he does the only thing he knows how to do, he reaches for you. He reaches for you because he knows that once the man notices what is happening, your tower of cards will be knocked over and you will have lost the battle you’ve been trying to win. And he can’t stop it from happening, but he can save you from the fall. He reaches out to you and he can feel your soft skin against his as he tugs you towards him. And he can’t explain it, because he knows there isn't a logical way to do so, but the moment he feels your touch, he knows everything is back in its right place. He knows you remember.  He gets to you, and he hears the shot echo through the room, but he doesn't want you to have to see it, he shields you from everything that's happening because youre letting him, for the first time since the games you’re letting him. 

But he should've learned by now that things are never this simple, and every time he thinks he’s won, there is always something there to push him off the pedestal he’s just built. He looks and he sees the man standing there, and he doesn't understand. Because he heard a gunshot, but the man is still standing, being surrounded and being detained, but standing. He doesn't understand until he can feel you collapsing, he looks back to you as he supports you and his blood turns to ice. Because he sees his hands, the hands that were supposed to save you, and they’re covered in blood. They’re covered in your blood. He can see the blush disappearing from your cheeks and the way your eyes are starting to close. And for once he wished he didn't remember. That he couldn't recall the last time this happened, because he wants to have hope, he wants to convince himself that tomorrow everything would be okay, because he’s managed to get you back yet again. But the memory hangs over him like a dark storm he should’ve seen coming. He spent days, weeks begging whichever god would be listening to make you remember, to give you back to him. And it turns out they heard him, but they have never been known to be fair. He remembers the strength it took you to get here, and he doesn't know if you have enough left to do it again. 

And if he could, he’d offer himself to the river of lost souls, he would spend eternity reliving this misery as long as he knew you wouldn't have to. He would dive into it like the sea on a summer night back home, because to him, that would be better than seeing you be taken to the Lethe again. And he knows the moirai do not care what he has to say, that they do not care what he is willing to offer, but he is still pleading to them anyway. Because you open your eyes when he asks you to, and you look at him the same way as when he found you in the capitol, you look at him as if nothing is wrong, because he makes it all right. And surely, he thinks, this cannot be how it ends. He’s desperate, and he’s scared. But he’s no longer scared you’ll pull away when he kisses you, because your lips are melting together with his again and he’s sure this is what heaven must feel like. Except the moment you stop kissing him, the moment your hand falls from where it was holding his face, he knows this was never heaven, this is his hell.

Next part: One day at a Time

Taglist: @hesperdern @mrsnancywheeler

[dr3c0mix]

DRE DRE OMG DRE!:O

I JUST HAB THE GREATEST IDEA OF ALL TIME DRE!

So, so I was thinking at like 1:33 am cuz ye, and I thought,

WHAT IF THE READER, HAD LIKE, A DISABILITY , AND IT CAUSED THEM TO LIKE NOT BE ABLE TO MOVE AROUND MUCH, AND AND THEY FEEL USELESS, SO THEYRE LOVER COMES IN, AND IS LIKE” u know ily right?” OUT OF NO WHERE, AND IT MAKES THEIR DAY???

I mean you dnt have 2, but it would still be like so cool:3

*me running at Usain Bolt speed in order to get away from sleep cuz insomnia helps brain go brr*

But have to sleep so go night night>:(

Yanderes x Disabled!Reader w/ a Mobility Disability

My OCs x Disabled!GN Reader

yall have no idea how long I've wanted to write this *sobbing*

CW: Adrian is stupid and ignorant a little, mentioned kidnapping themes, stalking, theyre a little bit too caring for you..

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Adrian doesn't use your disability to make fun of you, he's an asshole not a monster. But he is painfully ignorant of things when it comes to people with disabilities. Prepare to be asked a lot of shallow and sort of weird questions, not because he's judging you, but because he wants to learn more about you and maybe learn how to take care of you once you two get married and live together. He'd ask in random times "So why do you use a wheelchair?" "Can you piss correctly?" and a plethora of other things. If you use a wheelchair, he'd insist, no, demand that he'd push for you, he doesn't give a real reason for it other than "Your arms will get tired." If you're an amputee, he'd secretly save and steal money in order to buy you prosthetics if you ever showed your desire for one to him. He honestly doesn't care if you feel useless, you're his and he loves you and no matter what you think, he will always be there for you. "Are you fucking kidding me? You went to the library all by yourself yesterday! You played with those kids in the playground, and you carried that group presentation in math class! You're not useless, you dumbass, you're amazing!"

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Brandon, despite how ditsy he is, researches a lot about your disability, how to take care of a person with your disability and stuff that could improve your mobility. It's his duty as your boyfriend to give you the best care possible! As much as he loves to take care of you, he knows for sure you're able to do things yourself, he helps you with physical therapy if you ever need it. Being the star player of the lead team has its financial benefits too, so if there's something you found online that could help with your mobility, he's definitely buying it for you immediately!! There are times when you feel insecure about your disability but he's always there to give you lots and lots of reassurance and love! But to be honest, his way of cheering you up sounds more like a pep talk more than comfort, but it's his way of cheering you up :) "Who cares if you're not like other people? You're awesome and never forget that, with or without a disability!"

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Valeth, I shit you not, is taking away your wheelchair, your crutches, your prosthetic limbs, anything you need to move around on your own. He doesn't want you being able to escape his house and tell the authorities about him. Besides, why need those when you have him to carry you around and spoil you rotten with gifts and affection? If you let, him, he'll kiss the parts of your body that are affected by your disability, your legs, your arms, your amputated limbs, he wants to remind you how much he loves you despite your immobility. He'll whisper how much he loves you every night or when you feel sad. "You're perfect my little duckling, so so beautiful..."

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The Horde is keeping you in your bunker 24/7 unless you tell them you want to get out, but even then, they're right by your side the entire time. Bo is in charge with making sure you're never in pain or discomfort, physically and emotionally. "You're so beautiful darlin'..I wouldn't change a thing about your pretty little self~.." Screw rummages around the mall to find anything to help you move around like items from the medical areas. "I found this..uhm..do you like it?" Soda and Ribs don't really understand but they love you either way, regardless of your body. Ribs might steal your prosthetics or crutches though; you have to pry them out of his mouth like a dog that doesn't want to give up a stick.

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Wolfie thinks you're hurt and whines whenever he sees you struggling of sad, he licks the places of your body that are 'hurting'. Even when you reassure him that you're ok, he won't let go, he needs to make sure his little mate is ok! Forget wheelchairs, or crutches or prosthetics, he'll let you ride on his back, anywhere you want! Just give him lots and lots of pets and scratchies, good boy deserves it!

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Dorik is your loyal servant and will help you whenever you need anything. Oh, your wheelchair is folded up and you need help setting it up? Nonsense! He can carry you anywhere you want! Prosthetic limb nowhere to be found? Just stay in bed, he'll take care of it! Found out he's been hiding all your stuff so you depend on him and only him?...nuh uh.. and if you ever feel down, he'll be right there cuddling you and whispering sweet kinda creepy things to you. "You're my little angel, master~ A fragile mortal like you should be cared for with a gentleness of a thousand silks~!"

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Kalva forges high and low for anything that can help you. while he does enjoy keeping you nice and safe in the nest, you need some sunlight! He gives you branches, sticks, rope, anything you need to help you move around even just a little bit. With his nest building abilities, he would make you a prosthetic limb or cane for you. If you're a wheelchair user, he can just lift you up and prop you outside with him while he preens you. He might not know what's wrong but he tries his best to make you feel better. "My mate is so lovely, my lovely lovely mate! So pretty and cute!"

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Jasper can't help but be much more protective of you. He knows you can do stuff on your own, but he thinks as your best friend and future lover he needs to take care of you. He'd gladly be your caretaker if you ever need one, but he beats himself up for not accepting that you know how to handle yourself. Please let him draw and paint on your prosthetics or wheelchair! If you don't want anyone to touch your stuff, that's ok with him, but that won't stop him from making little artworks for you, like tiny paper stars with cute doodles drawn over it. If ever you feel sad, he has a nice cozy room, a weighted blanket, hot chocolate and his cat to comfort you. He's not the type to give pep talks, but he's a good cuddler.. "It's ok to feel sad, baby~..let's just lie down together alright?"

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Silas, Viktor and Garrick pester you every day to just let them turn you. You could be in unbearable pain, and you still refuse to be a vampire??? You could just have a minor limp or amputated leg and they're blowing your disability out of proportion, comparing you to a fragile porcelain doll. Imagine how much better you'll feel when you can no longer feel pain! Or when you have the ability to walk properly! It bugs you, it even makes you feel worse. If they go too far, they quiet down and sulk like sad puppies, whining and begging you to forgive them. They're sorry they took it too far..they just wanted you to be happier and healthier... "We're sorry darling, we just want you safe is all.." "Indeed my dove~ but we love you either way~!" "So cute and so fragile~! I don't know what's up with those two, but I wouldn't change a thing baby~!"

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Baron is always there for you, you dont even need your wheelchair or crutches anymore with how much he takes care of your needs. He says it's all part of his job but you don't really think making adorable little snacks for you is part of it.. looking at the little orange slices shaped like snails and cookies decorated to look like cats on your tray, you wonder if his doting is really his duty or if he just really wanted to take care of you.. Apart from that, he often watches as you look in the mirror and just frown. He gets up and checks how you're feeling as if a switch activated in his brain when he saw your sweet sad eyes. He can't bear seeing you so insecure when you're the most amazing person he's ever met.. "Boss, I don't care what you or others think, you are wonderful and worth regardless of your disability. In fact, it makes you even more admirable.."

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Caspian can relate to immobility. Out of water, he's more or less paralyzed from the waist down because of the weight of his tail, so you two hang out and joke about it together. He helps you cope by giving you someone to see yourself in. He daydreams about one day using some kind of magic to give you a fish tail so you can live in the ocean together like a happy couple. Sometimes he brings you to the shore of the cave you live in so you can soak your feet in the water while he sings for you. "My beautiful treasure~ your body does not define you. I see your soul, your heart, and it is beautiful~.."

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Hallow just sees it as an excuse to keep you locked up. He baby-proofs everything so you don't accidentally bump into something and get hurt. Yes, he takes away your wheelchair or prosthetics when you disobey him. He's a menace but he makes up for it by caring so much for you, you don't even have to lift a finger. If you're good, he gives your stuff back, all of them decorated with stickers and doodles all over it, mostly hearts and flowers. If ever you feel insecure, he coils around you in a warm hug and kisses you all over, you're not getting out until he hears a giggle come out of you. "My doll~ my darling~ my love~ my pretty little toy~ so cute~ so small~ your body is perfect~ just the way it is~!"

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Ashvan is on high alert 24/7, what if you get hurt? Or someone knocks you over and you can't get up? What if you can't move in a dangerous situation??? Stairs?!?!? He's absolutely panicking over you, but you being a cleric, you can simply use magic to get around. He knows full well that you can look after yourself but he can't help but linger around wherever you are to make sure you're ok, especially in fights. He's never far from you, acting like your defense as you heal the other members of the clan. He may or may not watch you sleep. Just being there for you! On days when you're not so confident in your abilities, he comes up to you with flowers he picked so he could hopefully make you smile again. "H-hi there! u-uhm..I-I picked these for you! heheh..uhm..g-good job during that battle! You were uhm..amazing..~"

[venear-tmblr]

…. so i’ve had an idea

C!Ven FableSMP In-Character Smash or Pass

Today we reject canon and embrace non-canom ships like it’s the 2000’s-10’s again. Let us begin heheheh (also im sticking to masc leaning characters because c!Ven likes 🅱️oys.)

Aax

5/10: Pass

I don’t think they’d be bad for each other, I just think Ven would feel out of his depth yk? Their communication type wouldn’t clash badly, they’d both be able to argue without killing one another, but they just dont click?

I just think Ven would be intimidated? and that should be a dealbreaker in any relationship.

Caspian

6/10: Smash

Caspian would be the cool ex that you still see sometimes in random places, and you stop for 10-15 min to see how he’s doing, before you both leave and forget about each other again.

Cas would keep Ven’s bossy streak in check, and they’d sort out their problems together well. They have aligning interests in knowledge and writing, and overall they’d work.

they actually seem like the kind of couple to fall out of love with each other? which is very sad to me ;-;

They’d care about each other a lot i think, in a Scott’s Street by Phoebe Bridgers kinda way

Centross

7/10: Smash

… there’s only room for one self-sacrificing idiot in this relationship.

Opposite of Rae; Centross is Ven’s type, personality-wise. Also Centross does the love-bickering thing that Ven and Feng would do. They communicate well, they’d argue healthily, over all they’d be pretty good tbh. The sleep schedule between the two of them would be bad though, Ven would forget to stop work and Centross would do the same, they’d forget to check in with each other.

Rae

3/10: Pass (edit, was 2/10 but i raised it by 1 for Zenni the beloved)

you already know what i’m gonna say about these goobers. they’re terrible for each other

the interesting thing to me; there’s only two reasons for Ven to date Rae. 1) they’re young, and social norms say you should date someone similar to you. So both Vena and Rae would go “he likes what i like” and call it a day. OR 2) Rae would be a rebound for Ven. neither of which can happen in canon. (i love the band au blorbos <3)

Seven

4/10: Pass

they wouldn’t be bad, Ven just wouldn’t know how to approach Seven? Seven has so much going in, and Ven would need to know every detail about Seven’s past in order to feel comfortable in the relationship. Seven can’t really give that, so the relationship is over before it’s begun.

Ulysses

7/10: Smash

Similar to Caspian, they’d get along, they’d be good exes. Ven would learn a lot academically from Ulysses.

bonus point because this fish sounds aussie and that is important to me ok

Will

4/10: Pass

Based on the emotional reactions seen in the spy arc of S2, I don’t think these two would get along. i actually think Ven would get on Will’s nerves in close proximity, if he were to open up and let Will in emotionally. Not that it’d be Will’s fault, they just clash. They would have common interests though, so all wouldn’t be lost.

Will would speak his mind, whilst Ven clams up and avoids conflict, but they’d get around to communicating eventually. (so they’re def not the worst pairing on this list.)

Wolf

…9/10: Smash

ok hear me out, you haven’t seen the half of it in canon yet, but these two work well. They have a lot in common (that i can’t share yet)

they argue so well, maybe even better than Feng and Ven did. Where Feng would speak up with Ven, Wolf sits and listens and waits.

Wolf is Ven’s type physically,tall with long hair and broad shoulders, and comes close to his type in personality.

nodders they should kiss

…So in conclusion; Let Ven join Wolftross, its time for Wolventross throuple takover

[linphd]

Hey so I've never sent a request before, but could you do a Bakugou x reader where Mitsuki and Masaru catch them in Katsuki's room? I really enjoyed your oneshot where Kirishima caught them, but you can write NSFW or fluff, it doesn't matter to me, I just love your pieces!

Getting caught cuddling | Headcanons

gender neutral

-> While spending some time cuddling with your boyfriend, someone catches the both of you by surprise.

-> Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari.

Katsuki Bakugou

Sure, it was Mitsuki’s mistake to enter her son’s room like that. But why didn’t he even tell them he had their partner coming over ? You were so lucky being asleep when this happened. « Ahah, you can’t yell at us, or they’ll wake up ! » she giggled at her son, who was fuming with anger.

Katsuki had invited you over for a presentation you had to work on, and you had gladly accepted. « Stop cheering, you won’t meet my parents, they won’t be there. » he had told you. Indeed, as his partner, you had always wanted to finally meet them.

At some point, you ordered a little break as you were going insane -you being super annoying when overworking helped you. As soon as he agreed, you laid on Katsuki, who made tiny explosions to warm you up a bit… which made you fall asleep rather quickly.

He had allowed you to take a little nap, as you had been training a lot nowadays, and here come his parents barging in his room ! « Sorry, we thought you weren’t home. » his father apologized. « Who is that ? Your partner ? » he had asked immediately after his son nod at his apology.

« Shut up ! Don’t wake them up ! It’ll be embarrassing for all of us ! » Too late. You were awake, and he was a liar ; you immediately gasped, happy to finally meet them. And maybe (un)luckily for the blonde, it ended up with you eating dinner at his place and a sleepover.

Shoto Todoroki

It was at the dorms. After a tiring training, you had decided to go to his room instead, so he could cool you down a bit. So tiring actually that you fell asleep without even noticing, and Shoto didn’t have the heart to wake you up. Hence your situation.

It was Denki who had burst in his room, excited to call him for a boys game night. Obviously, he caught everyone’s attention with his super loud gasps and his several « it makes sense ! it makes so much sense ! ». You woke up, and you both replied to your friends’ interrogations.

« How long have you been dating ? », « Hm, only like a few weeks, we were waiting a bit to be sure before telling you guys. », « So that’s why Todoroki caught fire when he saw you at the hot springs ! Because he had a crush on you ! », « … Yes, that’s why, actually. » you barely awake.

Well, it was now official. « So… for the boys night… » Shoto started, but got interrupted by the blonde. « Oh noooooo, no no noooo, stay with your partner man, don’t worry about us ! » he said, before shooing everyone away and leaving the room. « …. I actually wanted to go. » Shoto confessed, making you laugh.

« You can go, you know. » you said. « It was cute, you were overheating a bit at their reaction. » you said, stretching a bit. « Didn’t expect to get caught. » he replied. « Are you coming with me ? » he asked, but you said no. « Still tired from training. » So, Shoto kissed your forehead and let you fall back asleep in his room.

Denki Kaminari

The thing with Denki and you is that you were a somewhat Bakugou person. Yelled a lot, terrifying to your classmates, already intimidating quirk to begin with. So even for you, how you ended up with Denki was a mystery. Well, even he found it surprising, enough to agree not to tell others -at least not yet.

After a long day of training with Aizawa, full of failed attempts at a new skill you were supposed to have learned, you had decided to find some comfort in his room. He was so excited that he forgot to actually lock his room, and only jumped on his bed to cuddle with you.

And here you were, Kirishima and Sero gasping at the sight of the boy laying on top of you, his head against your chest while you played with his hair. He immediately straightened up, gasping as well. « Close the door ! Don’t tell ! No- » he panicked.

He decided to act like he had turned dumb, and you could only laugh at his attempt to save whatever situation you were in. « It’s okay, Denki. I thought you would have accidentally told everyone weeks ago. » you confessed.

The boy only gasped loudly at this statement. « You don’t trust me, (Y/N) ?! » making his friends laugh as well. « But I’m happy you don’t want to hide it anymore. Now I can grab you whenever I want. » he said, wiggling -maybe doing a little dance ? « … Sure, you can do that. » you replied, a bit scared of what he meant by « grab ».