#UNC problems

[mechanicalbowtye]

remember when those snapchats were a thing...

TRANSCRIPTS:

yiffy: me & the uncs

vrissy: quit calling my bfs uncs

harry anderson: Vrissy I am never taking them shopping again.

[tojisis]

with my big bro in sicily rn. damn i wish my nephews were here with him.

[invincibledc]

BATUNCLE!reader who just always gets called instead of his brother. It’s sickening how greedy his nephews and nieces are.

note: all batfam are kids in this expect for Bruce ofc lol!

“Uncle y/n!!!!!” Dick when he was just a Robin, screams as he rushes into the study room to see his uncle wearing his signature glasses. Y/n holds back a deep sigh, looking at the acrobat who just smiles at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” ��Watch, what I can do.” Dick says before doing a new trick he just learnt.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle, clapping to encourage the little bird. “Amazing! Show uncle what else you can do.” Dick’s eyes light up as he started to do some more tricks.

“UNC! UNC!!!!!!” Jason dragged as he was in the kitchen working on homework.

Y/n looked at his twin brother who looks back at him. “That’s your son.” Y/n says, getting ready to head out, but instead Bruce chuckles.

“But that’s your nephew, and he’s calling for you.”

Y/n was suddenly in the kitchen, seeing jason’s lit up face. “Yo, unc! Help me with this math question?” He asked, showing him the equation.

“What the..” y/n grabbed the paper and gave it back. “Uhm. How about we head out for ice cream?” Y/n says, clearly not understanding this generation’s math solving problems.

Jason hopped off the chair and rushed to hold his uncles’s hand.

“Ice cream. Ice cream! Ice cream!”

“Uncle?” Tim says softly, walking into his uncle’s room.

“Yes Timmy boy?”

“Is Santa real?” He asked towards his lovely uncle.

“Of course he’s real, you just gotta be asleep to earn any gifts.” Y/n says, taking his glasses off and lay down.

It’s quiet before Tim gets on the bed with his uncle. “Is that why you have a Santa costume in your closet?”

Y/n’s eyes flew right open as Tim just stare at him. “Okay bed time champ!”

“Ammu.” (uncle)Damian says, alerting of his presence. Y/n turned around, having to get ready to go get groceries. “Yes dames?” Y/n says, putting his jacket on as the small brown skinned boy walks towards him.

“I wanna come too.” He says, he already looked ready—maybe a little too ready as he had his Velcro shoes on and a jacket that seems a little too big.

Y/n chuckled, “you sure? It’s gonna be a long trip with me to the grocery store.”

“I’m sure!” He says a little too excitedly, he grabs onto his uncle’s hand. Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle before heading out with the small boy.

“Of course..”

“UNCLEEEE!!!!” Steph yells, running towards the man that ran away as the blonde girl tackled him.

“Where have you been dude?! I’ve been waiting for you to watch this movie I just saw!”

“Been busy with work, kiddo… get off me please..” Stephane gets off the poor man, chuckling before dragging him to the living room.

Cass stood beside her uncle, watching him do a puzzle by himself, “uncle.” She signs after tugging on the male’s sleeve. “Yes honey?” He replies, pausing himself from completing his puzzle.

“I wanna color with you. Please.” She tugs harder, getting him at least out his chair. Y/n sighs, but walks with her to her room. “Why not your father? I’m sure he can make time to—” he was interrupted with a pout from the girl.

“Okay never mind, drawing it is!”

BATUNCLE!reader who can’t deny his nephews and nieces at all…

[all-with-angel]

High Voltage

❥ Electric Fly Swatter Sukuna x reader

❥ With the heat being unbearable and flies swarming you practically every minute, you have nothing except a faulty fly swatter on your side. even then, the thing does nothing except zap you randomly! Sick of its shit, you throw it out the window, only for it to come stomping back to fuck some manners into you! Don't you know its rude to throw things out of windows?

Content. CRACKFIC, smut, dubcon, afab!reader, sukuna is mean(duh), grinding, oral(f!receiving), his fingers vibrate, he zaps you sometimes, p in v, doggystyle, dacryphilia, begging, creampie :P

A.N. I blame @yenayaps and @madamechrissy for enabling me so i take no accountability whatsoever. @yamadramallamaqueen here you go unc ily

It was hot.

Like, skin-sticking-to-furniture, every-fan-sounds-like-it’s-pleading-for-death, consider-lying-on-the-tile-floor-like-a-cat kind of hot. It was hellish during this time of the year. The heat outside would've been fine, if not for your AC breaking at the start of the week and your landlord doing absolutely jack shit about it. Thus, your humble little home had turned into a sauna and your overhead fans could only do so much. And if that wasn’t bad enough?

Flies. So many damn flies.

It was just the season for them, and you were getting tired of swatting them to death manually. Lucky for you, you stumbled upon a quaint little yard sale on your way home. It was small, stacks upon stacks of books and old cds, and a few barely-working pieces of electronics. A worn out looking fly swatter caught your eye, and when you asked the old grandma about it, she gladly gave it to you in exchange for a few dollars. It was black with pink highlights, residue of stickers clinging on to the plastic.

Lucky you, It was way cheaper than any of the newer models you’d seen, and it worked fine. Sure, it vibrated and shaked whenever you turned it on, and it took way too long to charge, but it worked.

For a while.

A week later, the thing turned on you. You were waving it around in your living room, a surge of slight satisfaction at every loud bzzt! that signaled the death of another one of those flying bloodsuckers. You were about to walk to the kitchen, satisfied with the lack of any more flies buzzing in the room when you felt a sharp sting of electricity course through your hand. You yelped and dropped it, hitting the edge of the sofa and clattering loudly onto the floor.

“What the hell?!” 

You hissed, massaging your hand for a moment before grabbing the fly swatter with a cloth. “Stupid old thing.” Murmuring curses and complaints under your breath about how its faultiness was showing after just a week of owning it, you set it on the counter and plugged it into its charging port. You eyed it as it lightly hummed and a red light blinked on and off, you could've sworn it started blinking out of sync— its patterns more similar to a human blinking than an electronic with a set program.

Whatever. It was too hot for this. You brushed it off and turned away.

Over the next few days, it kept zapping you. Randomly. It started when you were just holding it, using it actively when it would zap you when you even dared to put it down. Then, it started to zap you when it wasn't even on. You had turned it off, the phantom pain of getting electrocuted in your hand earlier fading as you tucked it under your arm. Before you could even reach halfway to your room, it had zapped your entire side. 

Nothing too painful, not exactly enough to be an immediate health hazard– but the surprise made you scream and drop it (again), clutching your side in betrayal.

 It was less a bug killer now and more of an abusive relationship that you couldn’t let go of. At least not with your current fly problem.

On another day of trying to survive through a damn heatwave, you were sweating even as two fans were working overtime fanning you. They were your real friends in this situation, even if they just blew hot air around the room, doing little to help you. 

Still, help is help.

But that morning, sweaty, stressed, and so over it, you swore that anything would set you off. As if sensing that you were on your last straw, the fly swatter had zapped you mid-swing. You flinched, face contorting from pain to anger. “Motherfucker!”

You shriek as it hits the floor, except this time you didn’t use a cloth to pick it up, you didn’t fear it anymore. Who the hell cares if it zaps you again. You grabbed it and threw it out your window, hearing it hit the soft grass of your yard as you huff. 

“You wanna fucking electrocute me?? Well I’m not having it anymore!” you yelled, flopping onto your couch with all the grace of a damp spaghetti noodle. You swung an arm over your eyes, cringing at the feel of your own sweat-slicked skin but too tired to care. With a sigh, you slump further back and practically melt into the couch.

The crawling feeling of exhaustion caught up to you, crawling from your head down to your chest. A nap at this time would probably fuck up your sleep schedule, but you couldnt seem to care in between the heat and the occasional buzz of a mosquito in your ear. The lull of sleep almost drowning out the sudden bang of your back door.

Wait, what?

The sudden bang of your backdoor startles you awake, loud stomping accompanying your racing heartbeat as you shoot upright and turn to see a very naked and very angry looking man. He was broad, large with black inky tattoos adorning his chest and arms. His head almost reached the ceiling and  you were sure that his dick— DICKS, were the size of your forearm.

You could feel both heat and fear crawling up your spine, settling uncomfortably in your throat as you try to find your words. Before you do, he beats you to it.

“You–!” he snarled, pointing a finger at you. “Did no one teach you to not throw your shit out windows!?”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” You stammer for a moment, eyes flicking around you to his glaring red eyes. You grab the nearest thing to you, a throw pillow and point it in his direction. “Who even are you?! And why did you just break into my house!?”

The pink-haired hunk of a man rolls his eyes, muscles flexing as he crossed his arms. As if this was just another nuisance to him. “I’m your goddamn fly swatter, or whatever the fuck you call it.” He hissed. “Congratulations, you broke the seal and set me fucking free. By throwing me out the window.” His voice was laced with sarcasm and brimming anger, finger tapping idly on his forearm.

“You’re my what??” You asked again, stunned. Unconsciously lowering your protective throw pillow as the hot demon man snarled at your stupidity and confusion.

“Your fly swatter.” He repeated through gritted teeth. The fact he was such a menial object irked him, clearly so.

Your eyes raked over him again, from his broad chest to his.. Sizable cocks. Your eyes seemed glued to the pair, your gaze sending a pulse or arousal through Sukuna. One that went straight to his dicks, making them twitch.

God, how long has it been since he’s had a good fuck? Too many years, that's for sure.

You made a noise in your throat that may or may not have been an inappropriate giggle. That seemed to piss him off. He clicked his tongue stomping over to you, who took a few steps back his looming figure. “Something funny, brat?” He snarled, glaring down at you like he hates your guts. But his half-hard cock(s) told a different story.

You swallowed, breath hitching as you craned your neck to look up at him. God, he was so much bigger upclose, not to mention that his chest was right up in your face distracting you from making any proper thoughts. “N-no. Just— this is so weird.” Your voice drops into a mumble as you continue, every three steps you took back, Sukuna would take one– And it was enough to bridge the gap. “Who knew my shitty fly swatter was hot..”

“HUH? The fuck you just call me?” He roared. “I’m Sukuna, the King of curses you heathen. Not some ‘shitty fly swatter’– Who said you could talk to me so casually!?” Sukuna, now you knew his name, had cornered you against the wall. “Throw me out of the window, no less.” He added, seething.

Alarmed by the dangerous— almost predatory look in his eyes, you hit his chest with the pillow in your arms a few times. “THE HELL? How was I supposed to know that?” Unknown to you, with every shriek and pathetic excuse for an attack, Sukuna could feel his cocks harden– throbbing painfully as his body screamed to show you your place. 

He was grinning, the hungry look in his eyes snapping as he grabbed your wrist and halting your (fairly worthless) struggle against him. You gasp as you feel your wrist get engulfed by a much bigger hand, shame filling your head as you feel the warmth pooling in your stomach.

“You really think that’ll do anything, brat?” He inches closer, scarily handsome face inches away from yours. “Or did you just want to piss me off even more?”

As if caught like a deer in headlights, you stammer, feeling his intense gaze on you making your heart clench and stomach flutter. “I– No, I mean I didn’t–”

“Shut it, slut.” He grabs at your throat, not quite squeezing— But just enough pressure to shut you up. “I don’t need your excuses.” Sukuna grins. “I know what you want, anyway.” He slides his thick leg in between your thighs, putting pressure on your core as you let out a mix of a yelp and a moan.

He grabs your hips as you slowly start to grind on his leg like a bitch in heat. “Ha, pathetic. Is that all it takes for you to give up?”

Your hips stutter, but Sukuna continues to guide your movements against his thigh. “N-No,”

“Liar.”

Sukuna pulls his leg back and in a blur, you end up manhandled onto your couch with your shorts pulled off of you. “Tsk. No panties? What a perfect whore.” He snickers, and as soon as he sees your already dripping cunt, he knew he was in for a sweet treat. He dared to look at your face, waiting in anticipation and beautifully aroused. He took it all in, the curve of your body and every inch of skin bared all for him. He was one lucky fly swatter. And you were one very, very lucky owner.

“W-wait–” You tried to plead, but Sukuna wasn’t a patient man. He didn’t wait. He took what he wanted when he wanted it. And he wanted you. He took his sinfully long tongue to drag across your folds, groaning loudly at your taste. “Fuck..” He muttered, immediately grabbing your hips to pull you into him as he let his tongue explore your perfectly sweet cunt.

Sukuna was like a wild animal– Or an insatiable toy, brimming with electricity ready to be expended on poor you.

He let his tongue curl inside of you, nose brushing and rubbing against your clit as your hands found purchase in his pink hair. The same shade that matched the fly swatter form this so-called King of curses had unwillingly taken.

Suddenly, you feel a zap of electricity on your thigh, making you flinch further into Sukuna’s mouth. “So fucking loud.” You could feel him smiling against your pussy, just before he continued devouring you like a man starved.

You held into his hair for dear life, tugging whenever he’d hit just the right spot, making him groan and send vibrations straight to your core. It felt more intense, more electrifying than anything you could have ever felt from any other man. 

“That needy, brat?” Sukuna pulled away, licking his slick-coated lips before tucking one, then two fingers right into your needy hole. Just as he did, he put his mouth back to work. He could feel you clench against his fingers, the tightness of your hole having Sukuna’s cocks leak pre down his thick cock.

“Y- Y-es!” You moaned out, voice breaking as Sukuna curled his fingers up into that sweet spot of yours. You couldn’t control the desperate gasp escaping your lips when you felt his fingers vibrate inside of you, right against your G-spot. “Oh- Oh god, fuck–” The stimulation felt intense, so much pleasure all at once as Sukuna licked and sucked at your clit.

He was merciless as he finished you off, lapping up at the juices squirting out of your fluttering pussy. You could practically feel electricity shooting up your spine as your back arched further into him, as if fucking his face.

You were definitely testing this demon(?), incubus(?), whatever the fuck he was’ oxygen, but he wasnt complaining. Not even when he pulled away from your cunt, slipping his thick fingers out of you and licking them clean.

“On your stomach. I’m not done with you.”

That's how you found yourself face-down ass-up and drooling onto the couch as Sukuna pounded his fat cock into your pussy, the other slapping against your abdomen with every thrust. You just felt so full, every push of his dick into you hitting every single spot you thought couldn’t be reached.

“Fucking— Fucking slut, shit–” Sukuna growled from above you, barely holding back his own moans from how fucking good you felt around him. So warm, practically made for him— Even if you were such a disrespectful brat. “Throwing me out the goddamn window–” Ah. He still hadn't let that go.

His eyes were glued to the back of your head, occasionally tracing his warm hand on the arch of your back, all to zap you randomly. Relishing in the way you’d flinch and tighten around his length, a condescending grin spreading on his face as he felt himself getting closer to filling you up. To put you in your place.

“Puh-lease–” You gasped as your legs shook, if not for his bruising grip on your waist, you’d have collapsed into a pathetic cum-puddle by now. Tears streamed down your cheeks, staining the couch along with various other fluids.

“Please what, huh?” Sukuna taunted, continuing to thrust his hips into you at an unrelenting pace. His lips parted, breathing heavily as he could feel his cock throb and twitch at the idea of cumming inside of you for the nth time.

Your hips moved back to meet his thrusts, you let out a pleasured sob at the feeling of attempting to rearrange your own guts on Sukuna's dick. “Please cum– I’m sorry, so so sorry for throwing you out the wind-AH!” You shiver as you felt Sukuna slap your ass, his eyes following how a red mark slowly started to imprint itself onto your skin. “What was that?” He mocked, voice condescending as he leaned forward, his chest flush almost flush against your back. “Say that again.”

“I'm sorry for throwing you out the window!” You repeat, moaning and gripping at the sheets as you feel Sukuna angle his hips to fuck you deeper, harder.

“Yeah, you better— fuck, you better be.” Sukuna continued to pound into you, twitching as he felt your pussy spasm around him. His breath was hot and heavy above you and you could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as his other cock was slapping up against your clit again and again. “Take my fucking cum, take it since you’ve learned your lesson you brat–”

In a second, you could feel warmth start to flood your insides, making your pussy flutter and cum around his girth with a strangled cry. The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot and so fucking good. Sukuna growled and grunted as his hips continued to fuck his cum deeper into you, cock throbbing with every shot of his seed pooling into you. There was just so much, enough to start leaking out your pussy along with your slick.

You were distantly aware of the cum sticking to your stomach and the couch, but your muddy, post-orgasm brain had barely adjusted when Sukuna's voice had cut through the haze. Unforgiving.

“You think we’re done? I haven’t even gotten my second dick wet yet.”

A.N. I was projecting my breeding kink a bit. Woops

[little-boyyyy-blog]

i forgot!

alessia russo x reader

when alessia meets the one just for her she makes sure she the right one before showing her off. even if there was really no doubt. well. besides your college. but you got her to forget about it for a while.

“are you a model?” you asked the blonde girl that you had been shameless watching move throughout the paris night club you were currently in. people were swarming the bars, leading to arms laying across a sticky counter with debit cards in hand and very close proximities.

a surpsied expression to your bold question came from the girl, her moving her ear away from your lips with a tint to her cheeks that wasn’t there before. you could swear.

“a footballer actually. are you?”

alessia was automatically attracted to you. her eyes genuinely scanned your body painfully slow as her eyes filled with a obsession

“basketballer actually. aren’t you competing?” alessia peaked up at the more familiar accent, she knew she had heard it before. leaning forward towards the american stranger, enjoying her memories of the united stated

“my nation didn’t qualify. but innit that funny, i went to school in america?”

“what a shame. i’d love to watch you play. shame it wasn’t at duke either, i would have seen you before that. i know that for sure.”

“and you lost me there. you were doing well too” you watched as disinterest comes across her face at the mention of your alma mater. not like it mattered to you, the footballer in front of you was all your mind was interested by.

“i never said i hated unc” you had to yell for her to hear, pulling her closer to you by her waist as another body tried to squeeze behind her.

“that’s because it’s the best in the country”

“in my country?”

“your country.” her smile came back, bringing a burn deeper in your stomach. the bartender swiftly dropped off both her drinks and yours. “vos cartes.” you don’t know what came over you; because it definitely wasn’t logic when your hand came on-top of alessia’s as she tried to start a tab. it was early in the night and you were still on a contact in the lowest paid league in america; but you had no problem treating the girl you were admiring for the night.

never had you thanked you agent more for sponsorships.

“mets toutes ses boissons avec les miennes ce soir. tout ce qu'elle obtient, je l'ai” the bartender nodded to your fluent french and turned away without hesitation; only taking your card.

“put all her drinks in with mine tonight. whatever she gets, i got”

“what did you just do? also i thought you were from america? you sound great. ”

“i gotta make my money somewhere, you went to america for experience no? just stay around for a while so i have something to look forward, remember to come say bye too.”

the sharpness to you, your undeniable looks, the free drinks.. how could she say no?

“i just might have to, and who do i come looking for?”

“you’ll find out if you come back. what’s you’re name?”

alessia’s eyes rolled at your secrecy, but bit her lip in enjoyment. she knew she’d be coming back, how couldn’t she. just look at you.

“alessia.”

“less these were out front?” leah announced as she entered alessia flat; confusion being noticed on the kent natives face until her eyes caught onto the pink peonies that we beautifully arranged for her.

leah carried them in carefully; not glancing to hard at them before handing them off. “theyre beautiful”

she would have kept an eye out front for them if she knew they were coming, but she never knew when you’d send them.

her cheeks when flushed and the pink in those flowers were so similar that you had secretly dedicated those flowers to her.

“oh my god, i didn’t hear a ring. thank you le.”

“who gave you those?” a question that gone unanswered.

alessia hadn’t spoken a word about you to her teammate. you were too good to be true in her mind; she didn’t want to ruin that before anything could actually happen.

quickly plucking the card off the floral pick and walked causally into the kitchen. “oh my those are beautiful less, who sent them?”

“someone from the states.” she slipped the card away into her back pocket before the overbearingness of the arsenal women’s team started.

“ohhhh”

“a college fling?”

“how many times have they’ve sent them?”

less pressed her lips together to hide the ever small smile from crossing her face. “once or twice.”

“oh my god!”

“a man sent those??”

“ay dios mío..”

the room continued with the chatter of who they may believe it to be. but surprisingly the room had two silent watchers. ones that alessia noticed instantly.

alessia felt as lotte watched her throw away the same peonies, now a week old. she felt emily watching as she cleaned the vase and put it in a cabinet. a cabinet with definitely more than one or two similar vases. emily would count on at least 7 or 8.

but of course they already knew that the american would have to be someone new to alessia.

they were alessia’s bestfriends at her time at unc; and they knew she spent her time there as a stepping stone to make it where she is now. meaning she was focused, studious, and committed to soccer while there. she wasn’t at unc to date, she was there to become better.

but alessia wasn’t stupid. her eyes meet with lotte’s and emily’s, giving them the look to please keep quiet for now. and that’s what they did. because they didn’t care that much.

well they did. but they knew if they pushed they’d never know. and trust. they wanted to know so badly that they were willing to wait.

alessia didn’t know why people cared so much if it didn’t involve them; but what she did was learn was that people will always want to know too much.

the spotlight makes you learn that damn last.

and as the flowers became a second thought to the arrival to the skipper, that gave alessia an escape from the attention to do something she couldn’t wait to do.

excusing herself to the bathroom from her guests once the timing felt right. her heart beating as she already pulled out her phone from her back pocket to text you a ‘thank you’ for the flowers as she walked through her flat.

pressing her back against her own bathroom door as she locked it. pulling out the card that was placed in the flowers from her back pocket so fast it may have ripped a corner. rubbing her thumb over the similar words as those that have brought her ease for the past 7 weeks.

i bought these flowers the same night i bought your ticket. you’ll be here in a week and these should last you til then. ill spend my days waiting for you until then. xo

you had finally made your way back with lunch for the two of you and less couldn’t hold back her excitement. she had jumped into your arms the second you had entered the apartment, giving you no time but to catch her. and that’s what you did. “finally”

holding her up against you with one arm as you held onto the food bag in your other, you walked the both of you into your apartment. letting the front door close and automatically lock as you walked you both into your kitchen. placing her and the food down on the counter before quickly placing a kiss to the british girls lips.

“hi hun” you whispered against them as she snuck her hand up your shirt, leaving a comforting and warm hand on your side. in a way to remind you she was real. a reminder you were grateful for as you looked at her longer. “hi baby”

“i got us our last american meal for a bit”

“enjoy your messy burger because you obviously can’t live without one for two weeks.”

“that’s why i got it obviously..” you rolled your eyes back at her, “you know you talk a lot of shit for someone who likes being in america”

“that’s because you’re here.” alessia had sent butterflies to your stomach ever since the moment you had met her at club. and over the months you had gotten to learn her; you had learn that her comments like those. meant something. not only to you; but her too.

“is that why you had me push back your return flight?”

“are we not going to mention how you bought yourself a ticket to come back with me” a teasing smile on her lips.

“no we’re not”

your phone rang on the counter taking you both out of your moment together; her eyes moving subconsciously to see who it was. and when she read another woman’s name she automatically sat up straight and let her hand quickly fall off of your waist.

alessia couldn’t help herself. as much as she’d love to say she hadn’t been looking for a red flag in you. she knew she had to be right about you being too good to be true in her mind.

“hey what’s up?..”

and honestly; for a good second. she couldn’t believe her eyes when you picked up your phone so nonchalantly infront of her, answering the call from the girl with not a second thought to you.

“..damn. no i can’t watch tuck this weekend; im going out of town with less..”

but of course she was being dramatic.

of course you had been telling everyone about alessia.

you had been treating her like your girlfriend since the moment she had arrived and alessia loved it. but never admitted it.

a small smile cracking out from your lips and a sly wink was all alessia needed for her cheeks to become that signature pink and her forehead to come planting on the center of your chest.

and as you ended the call and pulled her head away from your chest. there was that light smile still on your lips “jealous over a dog”

all alessia wants to do is kiss that smile off your face too. “it was the girl; and so what about it?”

“you’re all i want less”

“no way. you’re not dating her less.” emily stood firm in alessia apartment. another wide smile coming across your face as you knew why. a laugh coming out after alessia looked at you crazy.

“what?” you stood in the center on alessia living room in a pair of her arsenal shorts and an college college hoodie.

“emily i’ve told her” you had met emily before due to emily’s time in the nwsl and you’re continuing friendship with her u-19 national teammate tess boade.

“told me what?”

“she’s a blue devil?”

“what?” lotte quickly pipped in as if you had killed someone.

“she went to duke? are you kidding less? how could you fall for the rival.”

“oh my god. i forgot.”

“are you actually doing this right now? baby i told you the night we met?”

“i forgot!” alessia exclaimed.

“what do you mean?! how could you forget?”

“she was buying our drinks and she was looking really nice, i guess it just flew right over my head that night!”

“god less you’re kidding.”

she wasn’t. and maybe the enemy wasn’t so bad after all.

[baocean]

flirt

nice!rafe x reader college au

when rafe cameron finally takes an interest in you, you think its just another one of his one night stands

warnings - smut, swearing, partying and drinking

get comfy, grab a snack, because baby its longgger. i spent all day on this :) (hahaha ha ha h a) anyways, i wanted a nice, possibly even goofy rafe instead of him being batshit crazy all the time. so please forgive the personality change, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programs soon.

when rafe cameron entered the room, everyone swooned. the football star of unc chapel hill, the hottest guy on campus, the flirt. everyone would gladly drop to their knees for him, except you.

it was like something was wrong with you. because you absolutely did not understand what everyone was always going on about over him.

sure, he was tall and handsome. he was good at football. but he seemed like a complete jerk.

you were a sophomore at unc, rafe was a junior. you’d become very familiar with the horror stories of being around and getting with rafe cameron.

he fucks girls then leaves them on read, picks fights for no reason, drinks way too much, and has a god awful ego.

you just did not get it.

at the party, in some worn out, dirty frat, you stood with your friends in a corner, people watching and giggling.

it had been a fun night so far, meeting new people and having a few too many shots.

but when rafe cameron and his friends walked into the room, everyone’s attention was on him.

you saw him, and wanted to scream ‘boooo’. rolling your eyes, you walked away from your enchanted friends towards the makeshift bar.

a drunk frat brother poured you another drink as your phone dinged. you went to check it, and when you looked back up, there he was, in all his materialistic glory.

“hey angel.” rafe lifted the corner of his lip, handing you the cup the brother just filled.

“thank you.” you smiled for only a second, hopefully fast enough he didn’t even see it, then started to walk away.

“hey, wait!” rafe called behind you, useless. you took a guess that tonight, it was your turn to be the special girl in rafe cameron’s life. you didn’t want that title.

your friends stared in bewilderment as rafe cameron stalks behind you, and pulls on your arm ever so gently to get you to turn around.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his face blank of any little smirk he had before.

“depends on who’s asking.” you shrug, taking a small sip of the juice from your cup. it was strong.

“me.” he clarified, a look on his face telling you should have already known that.

“oh. then, no.” you give him a sweet smile. he scoffs, shaking his head.

“and if it’s for my homeboy over there?” his long finger sticks out and points towards one of his friends, one you’d seen on campus before, but couldn’t put a name to his face.

“oh, if it’s for him, get him to come over here and i’ll tell him myself.”

“what’s your problem with me?” rafe’s face scrunched up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i don’t have a problem, im just not interested.” you give him one last sickly sweet smile, before returning to the group of friends, patiently waiting to interrogate you.

it had only been a few days since your’s and rafe’s interaction. you hadn’t thought about it much, after getting home to your apartment and debriefing your friends, it had slipped out of your mind completely.

that was, until, you saw him walk into the coffee shop you were studying at.

immediately, you ducked your head, hoping not to get spotted.

he went up to the counter and ordered, fiddling with a straw in his hands, back turned to you.

you thought maybe he had missed you, so with a sigh of relief, you went back to your schoolwork.

“hi, angel.” you cringed at the voice. looking up, there he was.

he was wearing a bandana, tied around his head, some old carhart jacket. he had good style, you’ll give him that.

“oh, hey.” you tried your best to not sound so sincere.

“how’ve you been?” he asked, inviting himself to take a seat across from you.

“great. how about you?” his smile lit up his face, thinking he was finally getting somewhere with you.

he went to answer, when you cut him off, “i’m so sorry, i don’t know your name?” it came out more of a question, a dare.

his smile faltered for a second, and you took that as a win, before he stuck his hand out in between you two.

“i’m rafe cameron.” despite protests, you took his hand in yours to shake it, ignoring how much of a difference in size there was.

he raised his eyebrows, “your turn.”

“still not interested. lovely to see you, though.” you let go of his hand, putting your focus back into your schoolwork.

he scoffed, stood over you for a second, appearing to be looking at something on the table in front of you.

he chuckled, low, then bent down a bit. “i’ll see you later, yn.”

he picked up his coffee and walked out the door without a second glance. alarm bells were going off in your head. how could he possibly know your name?

you grabbed your cup to take a sip, and realization hit you like a brick. on the side of the plastic, your name was written in simple black sharpie.

recently, practice hadn’t been fun. especially since rafe realized the football team practices right next to the women’s soccer team. and also, since rafe found out you were on the women’s soccer team.

he’d made every effort to get your attention, calling your name and throwing footballs towards the soccer pitch, more or less annoying you. your teammates would squeal and giggle, and you groaned.

coach called practice, and as you were packing up your gear and getting ready to make the trek back to your locker rooms, you heard the distinctive voice from behind you.

“angel, how was practice?” you turned, seeing rafe, sweaty and red.

you probably looked the same at him. you’d been running on and off for two and a half hours today, you probably did not look your best. rafe would have disagreed.

“fine, thanks.” you wiped your face with a towel, taking your cleats off and finding your shoes.

“you know, when your face is all red like that, it makes me wonder what you look like when you’re getting f-” you hit rafe on the chest with the back of your hand.

“you’re appalling. does that line ever work on anyone?” you were completely disgusted by him right now, even if the thought did draw a little curiosity from you.

“sometimes. let me take you out on a date.” un phased, rafe cameron persists.

“why would i ever say yes after the comment you just made?” you laugh in his face, earning a shit eating grin from him.

“give me one chance. i don’t know what you think about me, but give me a chance to prove im not whatever it is.”

“no.”

“please, angel.” the way his voice upped an octave erupted thoughts, lot and lots of thoughts.

so, you’d finally give him a little bait to chew on for a while. “i'll think about it.”

with that, you left him standing by the benches. you rolled your eyes at the boy, but couldn’t help but smile.

three hours later you had a follow and dm from rafe cameron.

rafecam: have you thought about our date yet?

yourusername: no, not really

rafecam: come on angel

rafecam: one date is all i’m asking

yourusername: that’s all it’ll be since you’ll ghost me afterwards! it’s perfect!

rafecam: ohhh so that’s what you think

yourusername: the answer is no

rafecam: i’m not taking that for an answer

rafecam: it’s yes or yes

rafecam: i’ll be the perfect gentleman

rafecam: im the man of your dreams come onnnn

yourusername: you’re funny

rafecam: so does tuesday night sound good?

read

yourusername started following you!

deciding on something nice, but not too nice, you took your hair out of the rollers and sighed.

it’s your date with rafe tonight. you were feeling a lot of emotions.

you’d gone through rafe’s instagram the night he dmed you, had followed him back. there was even some 'get to know you' conversations somewhere in between.

pictures of his parents and sisters, his friends, pictures of them on a beach, all smiling. no pictures of him out at a party, or arms slung around girls. there was an image to maintain, though. the quarterback at unc, with forty thousand followers, of course he wasn’t going to post that.

you rolled your eyes and jumped up to show your roommate the black silk dress you were wearing for the dinner date at the fancy restaurant in town. anna was funny, bowing down in front of you like you were some god.

the doorbell to the apartment rang and your eyebrows furrowed. you thought, ‘no way he’d find a way to get up here, no way he’d find your apartment, no way he’d willingly come up here and ring my doorbell’.

but there he was, on the other side of the door, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. your jaw almost dropped.

he was dressed nicely, a smile painted on his tanned features.

“how did you know where i live. and how do you know about the flowers?” you invited him in, giving him a undoubtedly suspicious look.

“don’t worry, angel. i have my ways,” he smirked, looking at your roommate. “hey anna.”

“oh, okay. got it. got it, thanks anna.” you shake your head, grinning as you put your head in your hands.

“we’ll put these in water then head out, yea?” rafe grabbed the scissors while you grabbed a vase to fill up with water, moving in perfect harmony.

the dinner went well, surprising you. he was a gentleman, like he had promised.

and as much as you hated yourself for it, you swooned, just like that.

his smile, and his jokes, and the lack of inappropriate ones. you thought maybe the bar was on the floor, right now you didn’t care. you could only thing about maybe, you could have been wrong about him.

he’d walked you back up to your apartment on the second floor, carrying his jacket and your heels over his shoulder as you walked together.

when you got to your door, it was unlocked, thank goodness, because you forgot your keys.

“these are yours. angel, i had a really good time. promise you’ll text me in the morning?” rafe asked as he held out your heels, a true, genuine look in his eye signaling he meant it.

you shrugged, love drunk, and pulled his arm so he fell inside with you. “we’ll see.”

he dropped the jacket and heels on one hump on the floor, grabbing around your waist and pulling you in.

the kiss was so desperate and rushed, but still gentle. one of his arms wrapped around your waist as you clung to his neck.

pulling apart, you grabbed his chin and lifted it upwards, placing light kisses on his neck, then sucking. his hands grabbed at your hips.

“you look so good. holy fuck, angel.” he returned the favor, kissing down your neck and shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress with his teeth.

you pulled him towards your room, and at first, he didn’t hesitate.

he faltered once you got to your door, pulling back from you.

“angel, i’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment i saw you, but i want to do this right.”

you were taken aback, not believing the words that were coming out of rafe cameron's mouth. you almost thought he was kidding, letting out a anxious chuckle, met with a confused stare.

"did you just say no to sex?" you questioned. he nodded, looking just as surprised by himself as you were.

he doesn't fucking like me, you thought. how could you be so stupid? of course, of course rafe cameron doesn't want you the same way you want him. do it right? what does that even mean?

and there it was, surprising you again, because since when did you want rafe? have feelings for rafe?

"okay, um well, goodnight, then." you tried, tucking your hair behind your ears and grabbing your heels from the ground.

"okay. goodnight, angel." he took a step forward to try and kiss you, but you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

he faltered, heart shooting out of his chest. the one time he tries to treat a girl right, and he's fucked that up, too. he grabbed his jacket, stood up straight, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

rafe: good morning

rafe: do u maybe want to get coffee with me

rafe: or i could get it and bring it to u

read

rafe: helllllloooooo

read

rafe: angel what's goin on

rafe: text me back yn

read

it had been three days since you spoke to rafe. it'd been three weeks since you met him, officially. your emotions had been twisted, confusing. he’d been gone for an away football game. he stopped texting you after that.

you watched the game with your roommate anna, rafe throwing pick after pick, completely off his game. you sighed, hoping that the small flame inside trying to convince you you're the reason he keeps messing up is wrong.

the game ended, they won by one point. the team cheered on the field as number forty six walked off the field, helmet in hand and head hung low.

rafe: can you please talk to me

rafe: i would take you telling me you hate me over this

you: can you come over?

rafe: be there in ten

he was there in seven minutes, actually. looks of hesitation painting his features when you opened the door for him.

"you've been okay? you didn't text me back on wednesday."

"yea, we should talk about that." you nodded. his face slumped, he looked defeated.

"what? what is it, angel?" he took a step towards you.

"listen, i really only said yes to that date so you'd leave me alone," rafe felt a little bit liked he'd been punched. "but that entire date i felt so good, and i was honestly just fine with having one night with you and never speaking to you again. but then you said you didn't want to and whatever you meant by that, i'm not sure, but it, like, threw me off." you rambled, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

"i wasn't gonna have sex with you if it meant i never talked to you again." his blue eyes hidden under thick lashes, unable for you to get a good read on them.

"but rafe, thats like all you're known f-" your hands went up in defeat as you tried to finish your statement.

"was, it was. i wish you'd just talk to me instead, angel. but this-" he waves a finger between you two- "is different. i don't know if its because you give me shit every time i try to flirt with you or that you're just unlike anyone i've ever met, i don't fucking know. but id rather give this an actual try than pretend i could treat you like you didn't mean something more."

speechless, thats what you were. taking two steps forward and pulling him in. he tasted like mint gum, smelled like wood and vanilla. his lips parted, letting you familiarize yourself with his mouth.

he pulled back, "go on another date with me?" you laughed, then nodded, then pulled him back into you.

he pulled back again, "be my girlfriend?"

"you're pushing it, rafe." giving him a peck on the lips.

"well, just using my logic, here. if you're my girlfriend, then that means were giving it a try and we can fuck all we want." he shrugged, a hand finding its way under your t-shirt and onto your hip.

"you sound insane. ask me again later." you whispered into him, pulling him into your room, this time he didn't budge. rafe cameron, in your small, student housing bedroom, pulling your shirt off.

he kissed your neck, bit at the spots he'd sucked, picking you up and rolling onto the bed with you, earning a laugh from you.

you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, rafe helping you out. your hands found their way to his upper arms, he closed his eyes and flexed under your touch, almost unconsciously.

"you look so pretty, angel. always do." he whispered, leaned down to kiss you again. he pulled your thin, loungewear bra to the side, let out a quiet groan, and kissed.

and he would have done anything to hear that small moan from you for the first time again. your hand reaches up to grab his hair as one nipple is in his mouth, the other being rubbed between his fingertips.

"angel, you want this as bad as i do?" he looked up at you, watched you nod, and smiled, kissing down to your naval.

lifting your lips, he slid the shorts off you, then his sweatpants next.

he lined himself up, pushing into you slowly, memorizing the sound of your gasps and moans. surely, this is what heaven felt like. sounded like. "holy fuck."

two strong arms landed on each side of your head as he slid in and out of you.

his words came out all incoherent, with a lot of 'please', 'angel', and 'pretty''s thrown in there.

this wasn't the kind of sex you'd have with rafe, you thought it would be more rough, not sweet and caring.

your eyes closed, his hand flying to your face, gripping your chin. "open your eyes, pretty girl. i wanna see you. wanna see whats mine." you let out a moan, clenching around him, too deep in pleasure to care that rafe knew you liked that.

"say it." rafe moaned, his pace fastening, a steady hand still on your face.

"im yours, rafe." he pulled you up as you gasped for the millionth time. now, riding him, your face was an inch above his, his features looked perfect under the sunlight.

"are you mine?" you got out, in between moans.

"since the first time i ever laid eyes on you. all yours, angel."

[cloveroctobers]

tell your homeboy’s goodnight *trend* | sinners !

warnings: language ofc + modern times! + men being vulnerable?

reference:

SMOKE: if you can actually get him to do it then gold stars for you! If you showed him this trend, you would have to analyze his face to see a smidge of a smirk playing on the corner of this mouth but after the video is over he’ll look you dead in the face and say, “I’m not doin’ that shit. No.” Eventually he’ll break and do it, he could blame it on the alcohol (he always handled himself well no matter how much he indulged in) but really it was to please you. You’re lounging on the couch together and the first one he calls is: Bo Chow. His wife, Grace—that you’re alright with—is actually the one to pick up the phone before relocating around their home to bring the phone to Bo.

“Smoke Moore! How y’all doin’ tonight?” Which is a typical response from his good friend.

Smoke dips his head, “Straight. Look I ain’t gonna hold you, I just wanted to call and tell you goodnight.”

The line goes quiet for a moment before Bo chuckled, “Okay…? Goodnight. You feelin’ alright?”

“What you mean?”

“I appreciate the love and everything but this ain’t like you. A simple text would have been just fine…which I know you know. You are a man of few words, which is why I’ll ask again? You feelin’ alright tonight?”

You’re snickering on the other line, shielding your face from Smoke’s glare before he answers, “I’m feelin’ grand. What? It’s a problem to wish the homies goodnight?”

“He been drinkin’?” You can hear Grace comment in the background.

Smoke sucks his teeth as Bo tries to shush the woman who vocally bites back that she won’t be silenced.

“No, it ain’t no problem. Is it a crime to check in with you?”

“Nah.” Smoke shrugs.

Bo responds, “Alright then.”

The line goes quiet for another beat until Bo throws in, “So…are you gonna head over here and tuck me in too or is that it?”

Which makes Smoke disconnect the call immediately, leaving you and Bo a hollering mess.

It took persuading but Smoke decides to call one more person: Delta Slim.

“Yellow?!” His voice picks up on a fifth ring, almost making Smoke hang up long before that.

It’s loud on the other end, making the both of you believe he’s still out living his usual night life.

Smoke clears his throat, “What’s goin’ on, unc?”

“Same shit different day. What you want, Smoke?” He calls over the music but the both of you can hear the thud and shuffle of his steps as he takes his place somewhere quieter, “You need me for OT or sum’n?”

Which makes Smoke jerk his face back.

Damn it’s like that?

Yes he was a man always about his business but was his calls always about that?

“Nah, you know your schedule well,” Smoke speaks, “I just wanted to tell you goodnight.”

There’s a pause on the other line.

“You what?” The both of you can picture Slim’s round eyes widening and dipping his head to make sure he heard you better, “I know I ain’t hear that right.”

“Yeah you did,” Smoke continues on, “It’s important to tell your people goodnight since ya know, shits never promised and all that.”

Slim hums, “That sound like some bullshit your lady put you up to.”

Funny how he always clocked you.

“Woooow.” You couldn’t help but to interrupt, making the older man laugh it up as the both of you can hear him then taking a swish from his flask.

Smoke laughs too, “These women always got us up to something huh?”

“I know that’s right.” Delta Silm agrees just as you shove Smoke’s shoulder, “I respect it though. That one got her head on right so keep her close. You on the other hand? Don’t bring that bullshit to me over the phone no more, ya hear? You got something to say to me, say it with your chest when you see me in person.”

Smoke snorts, “Heard you.”

“Alright now,” Slim says, “Y’all enjoy the rest of your night and I’ll see you at the spot next shift.”

You both bid Slim a goodnight, leaving you with a dramatic sigh as Smoke lolls his head on the couch towards you.

“Satisfied?”

You smile as you shift to place your head right in his lap, already having a good night of your own as Smoke drags his fingers along the slope of your body, bringing you to a peaceful slumber in his hold.

STACK: he’s always with the foolishness so yeah he’s down! The first person on his list is obviously his big bro, Elijah Smoke Moore.

“Yeah, stack.” Smoke answers, already sounding annoyed.

Stack snickers as he sits across from you at the dining table, “Hello to you too, man.”

Smoke’s silence is his response.

“Well hennyway…what you up to?”

“Just got in with Annie, why? What did you do?”

Smirking to yourself, you continue doom scrolling while Stack scoffs to himself.

“Nothing. I’m just calling to say I love you and goodnight.”

Smoke deeply sighs to the point you can feel it came from deep in his soul, “Aight, out wit it. Fuck did you do, Elias?”

Stack can’t help but to laugh, “So I can’t get that same energy back? Word?”

“You’re being mad weird right now, skippin’ around the questions and shit, so no you can’t.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“If I had to put you and Tony Montana in the same room, nigga I’d be rich.”

Stack points out, “You damn near already are!”

Smoke laughs a little at this, “You’re not wrong man.”

“Thank you! Give a brotha some credit.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So sleep tight?”

“Yeah, yeah and don’t let the bullets bite and all that.” Smoke rolls his eyes although Stack is grinning, “…Love you too and if I find out you got into some shit by the morning…I’m on yo ass.”

And stack is met with the dial tone, his dark eyes flicking to yours. He shrugs as he flashes a dimpled smile your way, grills shining in the orange glazed dining room, “That wasn’t as bad as I thought. Annie must have gave him some so he wasn’t in that much of a funky ass mood.”

Which makes you toss a blueberry right at the tip of his nose.

His last suspect—or uh—call goes to Cornbread.

His voice is groggy on the other line, “You’re lucky I didn’t let your ass go to voicemail. This better be good.”

“Oh my bad, were you sleeping? At nine o’clock on a Friday? I was just calling to say goodnight, grandpa.” Stack leans his elbows onto the table, peeking over at you, knowing that he had a natural gift of pushing peoples buttons.

Cornbread doesn’t hold back, “I got a pregnant ass wife who’s nesting but also wants to travel all over the place for things we don’t really need but the baby’s got to have it. Did you know that i drove—what should have been a hour and a half drive—but took two hours with traffic outside the city going to different stores to look for some dumbass pickle chips? So yeah I’m in the bed and I don’t need no shit outta you.”

“Damn, you ain’t got to be so pissy about it.”

“Are you about to become a father?”

“Nah…but maybe you should start looking into some nursery rhymes to keep your blood pressure down or sum.”

“Alright…” Cornbread shifts in the bed, letting the phone rest in between his neck and shoulder as he clasped his hands together against his torso, “remind me next time that I see you, I’m knocking your ass out.”

Stack can’t help but to taunt, “Your big ass gon’ have to catch me first.”

“Say less.”

“Now that you’re done venting like I’m your fucken diary, are you gonna wish me sweet dreams?” Stack grins.

“I hope Freddy Krueger lights yo ass up. Tell the missus I hope she has the best of dreams and I pray for her every night having to put up with you.”

Stack knows Cornbread is hot now, “Aw thanks, love you man. It’s gonna be alright.”

His next response is actually surprising, “I know that! And I may love you too, been dealing with you long enough.”

“Give T my love.”

“That I won’t do. Nobody know what you got.”

Hold up now?! Your side eye is strong although you know of Stack’s womanizing past and how disrespectful he and cornbread could get towards one another, yet nobody ever wants to hear that as someone’s significant other.

Stack shakes his head at you directing his next words At Cornbread, “Fuck off my line.”

“Negro you called me—

“I don’t care, hang up.”

“You can’t bully me, stack. You hang up!”

You’re just about to reach over the table yourself and hang up the phone, tired of their usual bickering. Instead you just get up from the table yourself, getting on the phone with one of your girlfriends, leaving the two children men at it.

[maybejj]

The Beginning of Us Part 1

babydaddy!rafe x sweetheart!reader

masterlist

summary: You and Rafe were high school sweethearts that continued into college however Rafe went down the wrong path and you found out you were pregnant. 4 years later finds you and Rafe trying to navigate co-parenting your 3 year old son while overcoming life’s obstacles and past experiences.

warnings: mention of drugs, I think that’s it?

word count: 1.1k

“Mommy look at my tractor!” You hear your three year old son call to you from the other side of the room. You were distracting yourself from the fact Rafe was coming over to pick up Asher, the son you shared.

You turn towards him and gently smile. Asher was a spitting image of his dad. The only thing he inherited from you were your green eyes, everything else was all his father. The dimples, the blonde hair, the little smirk he got on his face right before he was about to do something he shouldn’t, his attitude. God, it was all Rafe. It use to make you emotional after you and Rafe broke it off but you’ve had time to move on. It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.

“I see your tractor baby. It’s your favorite color.” You grinned at him and he returned it with his own goofy grin. Everything you did these days was to provide for your son. Making sure he had the best of the best and Rafe made sure of it as well. Your relationship with Rafe may have ended but you two try to put your differences aside to take care of Asher.

You and Rafe got together when you were 15. High school sweethearts, the power couple, the relationship everyone envied in high school. You were great together in high school. You were the couple that loved public displays of affection, always all over each other no matter the setting. Rafe was always so attentive to you, always so sweet and caring. You always listened to him and helped him express his emotions and feelings, especially when it came to his dad. There was never any arguing. Disagreements were common in any relationship and you definitely had those but you both never yelled at each other. You would work through any problems calmly to come to a solution. College was a different story.

You both went to UNC Chapel Hill and the first 3 months were unreal. The freedom of moving away from Kildare felt so good. You had your own dorm room, as did Rafe. You were both freshman at the time so your plans to have an apartment together was ruined by the college rules but you still made time for each other. Rafe was studying business, you were studying art. You thought you had the world at your fingertips. That was, until Rafe got into a fraternity. It didn’t take long at all until you noticed the shift in him. The staying out later than normal, lying to you about where he was, going to parties every night, ditching plans with you more often than not. When he did make time to come to your dorm to say sorry for the night before, he smelled like liquor and his eyes were red around the edges. He constantly rubbed his index finger under his nose, almost rubbed raw. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke to you. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was getting into stuff he shouldn’t and you told him as such. He immediately would blow up on you saying it was none of your business. It was a never ending cycle that went on for months. One night it become too much when you found two bags of Coke in his truck glove box.

The front door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe entered the apartment with several bags in his hands. Asher immediately dropped his tractor and ran to his father, grabbing onto his pant leg and jumping up and down.

“Hey little man, you look like you’ve been busy today.” Rafe gently smiled down at him while holding the bags in his hands away from the little toddler attached to his leg.

Asher only nodded multiple times and continued hugging his leg. Rafe didn’t move from his spot in the doorway, just gazing down at his son with a soft smile on his face. You watched silently from the other side of the room. Rafe only let his guard fully down around Asher, his son bringing out the best in him. You truly believed Asher was the only thing that saved Rafe from an overdose.

Rafe looked away from his son and met your gaze. The smile left his face and the solemn expression took over again. He nodded in your direction and lifted his hand holding the bags, “Got some stuff from the store I thought you might need.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” You shook your head. Every time he came over he would bring bags of stuff he thought you or Asher might need; baby wipes, deodorant, your favorite shampoo, Asher’s favorite snacks, your favorite candy. He did it every time and every time you told him he didn’t have to do it. Rafe would just give you a flat look, shake his head, and change the subject.

Rafe exhaled softly and said your name which had you swallowing thickly. The way he said your name after all these years still caused butterflies in your stomach.

Asher seemed to be getting bored of not getting attention and detached himself from Rafe’s leg. He reached his chubby hands above his head to grab one of the bags Rafe was holding, “I take it Daddy. I strong for mommy.”

You and Rafe laughed as he took one of the bags and set it on the chair in the living room. Rafe followed Asher’s steps and laid the rest of the bags down for you to go through later.

“You got your bag ready, little man?” Rafe raised his eyebrows in Asher’s direction and the toddler quickly scrambled down the hall to his room. You waited until Asher was out of sight until you turned back to Rafe.

“I know I don’t have to say this but I feel better when I do,” You made eye contact with Rafe. “Please be careful.”

Rafe nodded slightly, raising his hand to run across his jaw. Rafe knew you worried a lot about Asher, he’d gotten better with dealing with it and not getting so frustrated. It use to piss him off because he thought you didn’t trust him with his own son but it was deeper than that. You and Asher had been through a lot and Rafe knew firsthand what it did to you. You knew Rafe would protect Asher with his life, he’d done it before. You just couldn’t help but think about past experiences every time Rafe took him for an outing but you were trying to get better.

“You know we will. I’ll bring him back before dinner.” Rafe promised before you both were interrupted by the bundle of energy barreling through the living room with his Spider-Man backpack dragging behind him.

“Let’s go daddy!” Asher grabbed Rafe’s hand and drug him to the front door. He waved his hand half heartedly in your direction and pulled his father out of the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Part 2

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas pt 15

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Authors Note: IM ALIVEEEEEE

Warnings: Cursing “kys”

Masterlist

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

I don't think that's in your meal plans

yourusername

Shut up Logan 😐

logansargeant

😂😂😂😂

——

lewishamilton

🫶

yourusername

🫶

——

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their close friends story

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Spain

liked by charles_leclerc logansargeant and 6,888,009 others

yourusername te amo

load comments…

user1 OH MY GOD SHE POSTED SHE POSTED

user2 her first insta post since Vegas we cheered 😭

user3 LMAO dating Charles leclerc and only posting the top of his head I love her sm

user4 that's where they went 😭

user5 viva la españa

user6 🇪🇸🇪🇸🇪🇸

user7 awww I love them

carlossainz you come to Spain and don't see me?

yourusername I don't like you

carlossainz 😔

user8 wait I love that this is her only post and its Charles 🥹

user9 can we see the rest of that photo??? 😭

user10 EL GATO EL GATO EL GATO

user11 🐱🐱🐱

user12 WAIT ✋ “TE AMO”?????

user13 I LOVE YOUUUUUU

user14 I adore them

user15 my fav championship leaders

landonorris Im still mad you abandoned me

liked by yourusername

user16 te amo???? 😭

lilymhe my fav girl 🫶 (and her bf or whatever)

yourusername 🫶🥹

porscheracing dont have too much fun 🤓☝️

liked by yourusername

user17 I love them sm its not even funny

logansargeant whats that Taylor swift song??? Come back… be here????

yourusername I don't even live in London

logansargeant well actually, you have a London house 🤓☝️

logansargeant (i know that because I have broken in multiple times)

yourusername oh so its your rat-looking-ass that's been triggering my ring doorbell

landonorris oh so you'll ring doorbell the London home but not Monaco 🙄

user18 wait her brother is lowk in the likes…

user19 oh to be on a Spanish vacation with Charles leclerc

charles_leclerc te amo 🤍

yourusername 🤍

user20 alright now, its been two weeks, lets get to imola

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TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

WOAHHHHH

THATS RUDE

yourusername

I’m not a fan of you as a person

logansargeant

And if I said that made me sad then what

yourusername

Kys

logansargeant

😱😱😱😱

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georgerussell

That’s not nice

yourusername

Blame Lando for knocking my drink over

georgerussell

But I didn’t do anything 😔

yourusername

You watched it happen and that’s bad enough

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landonorris

I ALREADY SAID IM SORRYYYY

yourusername

🖕🖕🖕🖕

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lewishamilton

What did I do?

yourusername

I’m so sorry you’ve been caught in the crossfire of Landos actions 😔✊

But nope

You don’t

So sorry unc 🙏

lewishamilton

😔😔😔😔

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charles_leclerc

I don’t even get a tag?

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yourusername added to their story

logansargeant

WHAT THE FUCK

ARE YOU KIDDING

YOU LIKE ME MORE THAN HIM

I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS

yourusername

Lmfao that’s my boyfriend

Ur my annoying little brother

Why would I tag you 🫶

logansargeant

Kys

🖕🖕🖕🖕

I will not forget this

yourusername

Love u ☺️🫶

logansargeant

I hate u ☺️🫶

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landonorris

Oh I see how it is

yourusername

“How it is” is me posting my bf

Whats ur problem

landonorris

😔😔😔😔

We don't need a reminder of your happy relationship pls die

Not all of us have found our soulmates

yourusername

☺️🫶

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georgerussell

Oh okay

yourusername

🙄🙄🙄🙄

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lewishamilton

…

yourusername

I don't want to hear it grandpa

lewishamilton

Woah now

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charles_leclerc

🤍🫶

yourusername

🤍🫶

——

[humansofnewyork]

“People see it as a fake sport. Whenever you tell someone you play Ultimate, it’s like: oh, is that where you throw a frisbee in a basket? Or is that the one where you throw it to a dog? Whenever I’m talking to someone about it, I just hope they’ll ask me enough questions so that I can talk about UNC Ultimate. That was probably the most special experience I'm ever going to have in my whole life. I was on the team for five years, then I came back and coached. My freshman year we were really, really bad. But at the moment UNC Chapel Hill is triple back-to-back-to-back national champions. And I got to be part of that trajectory. But even though the team kept getting better and better, I kinda stayed at the same level. I never became the elite player that I wanted to be. I have a lot of ‘stick-to-it-ive-ness.’ I’m capable of working really, really hard. And part of me always believed that would be enough, which is the part that burned me out. Because after working so hard, for so long, I reached a plateau. It was physical stuff. I'm just not quick enough. When I play defense I can’t keep up with the fastest offensive handlers. They're going to score, and that's a problem. I ended up getting cut from the elite women’s club team I was on. I switched over to mixed, but ended up tearing my ACL a couple years ago. It’s been my life for ten years, but now I’m at a place where I don't know if I'm ever going to play again. I just don’t know if my body can handle it. I don't want to have another, like massive orthopedic surgery. And frisbee takes up so much bandwidth; there’s so many other things I want to explore. The list is infinitely long. I’m asking myself: could I be happy playing on a mid-level team where the commitment wouldn't be quite as high? Or will I only feel satisfied if I'm exceptional? That’s an unhealthy connection I have in my head, I think. That love is something you need to earn. And being exceptional will make me worthy of having connections with people. It would be great to become a version of myself where I no longer feel that way. And maybe we'll get there someday. We’re working on it. In the meantime, at least I got to talk about UNC Ultimate.”

[cameronspecial]

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases. 

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.” 

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.” 

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.” 

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall. 

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it. 

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity. 

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[enwoso]

Emily Fox x Reader based on "I Love You, I'm Sorry" by Gracie Abrams

i love you, i’m sorry | emily fox

this is probably a bit longer than all the other blurbs i’ve done… but i got a little carried away writing it,, anyways enjoy xox

masterlist

you and emily fox had a complicated relationship as well as history. it wasn't the usual hatred towards each other it was that you were just civil and that was part of the problem.

you'd both met way back in college, you both playing for UNC alongside some of your current teammates at the moment, alessia and lotte. you joining arsenal just a year after lotte wanting to make the big move back across the pond in hope it would help build your footballing career.

and much to your surprise it did, while you spent most of the first season on the bench you still managed to come on and most of the time make a difference in the game weather that being to score or assisting the goal.

before cementing yourself in the first team just the next season and finding yourself starting majority of the games and then going on to help arsenal lift the league title in the 18/19 season.

but enough of that and back to the complicated history of you and emily fox. you and her were the best of friends from the moment you met, you were glued to hip. you loving to make fun of her funny american accent while she would make fun of how bad your american accent was no matter how hard you tried, it sounded nothing like hers.

over the four years that you were at UNC you grew closer and closer together, to the point you weren't really sure if you were just friends anymore. on some nights when the team would be out celebrating and you both may not be thinking straight due to the alcohol that would be flowing through your veins.

and more times than you would like to admit out loud you would find yourself pinned to the a stall in the toilets while you were out, small whines strung from you as begged for her to carry on kissing you. her lips, her touch, her everything were your drug.

and while the casual hookup happened every other month, it never went anything further than that. you were simply just friends with benefits and while you wished you were more you just couldn’t bring yourself to commit in fear of ruining a friendship.

so when the offer to move across the pond, you grasped it with two hands. it breaking your heart that you were leaving but also emily’s but you made a promise to the girl that you would stay in contact and you would try and make the journey to see her whenever you had time.

however, the long distance between the two of you proving difficult for the two of you to stay close, text messages going from every hour to every other day as well as calls going from every morning to every week until the contact stopped and it was radio silence from each other.

so when the news hit arsenal that a new girl was coming from america the last person you expected was for it to be her.

watching as she walked through the club the same bubbly girl that you knew and left in america.

she quickly fitted in, reconnecting with the UNC duo alessia and lotte and over the weeks the american was back in your life all those feelings you had spent years trying to forgot came rushing back quicker than you could have said 1,2,3.

so on a night after a big win in the league you were sat in the booth of a bar by yourself as you watched on with a slight twang of envy as emily effortlessly danced and laughed with the arsenal girls.

you hadn’t had a chance to talk properly with emily, only the odd little small talk, ‘how your day’ ‘how you finding london’ or ‘you okay’ was all that had been spoken to by the two of you. but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by bringing up the past in case she was over you, and she didn’t want to bring up old memories cause what if it was just a college hookup to her.

you told yourself you would rather be hurt not knowing then hurt yourself by knowing the truth.

“why don’t you just talk to her?” beth said as you jumped a little not knowing how long she had been there or how long she had been watching you watch emily’s each movement.

“who?” you tried to play the dumb act but you knew by the look on beth’s face that she knew, you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“y/n don’t play stupid with me, just talk to emily. i can see the way you close yourself off from her every time she gets too close. you never know she may want to talk to you too about the past.” beth smiled softly nudging you slightly towards the end, you knew that she’d spoke the emily about you, more than likely meddling. beth had been one of the only people you had told about your past with the american.

“i can’t beth, it is what it is. it’s in the past now. m’trying to move on” you sighed, swirling your empty glass in your hand, hearing a tut from the blonde beside you.

“you can, y/n. and what’s the saying it’s better to try and fail then to never try at all!” beth tried as you gave her a pointed look, your eyebrow raised slightly at the sudden inspirational words.

“who would have thought drinking made you all inspirational quotes!” you laughed lightly as the blonde rolled her eyes pushing you out of the booth. “yeah, yeah, go and get your girl!” beth mocked your tone as she took another sip of her drink.

walking over to the american your nerves were all over, as you tried to navigate the hot and sweaty bar people being everywhere you turned it was like you were in a can of sardines.

finally reaching the girl, you tapped her on the shoulder probably not the best move to pull in a bar full of strangers but before you had time to think your body had already moved and done it for you.

startling the american as she turned around her features softening as she realised who it was, watching as alessia, kyra and laia were now stood behind emily eyes glued to the interaction between the two of you.

“hi”

“hey, you okay?” emily looked worried, this was one of the first times you’d been the one to start a conversation since she’d joined arsenal just a little over a month ago.

“yeah, um can we talk-“ you stuttered out looking down at your hands as you fidgeted with the rings on your hands. “of course, what’s up?” emily said quickly, her worried look still not moved but not clicking on at the fact you didn’t want to talk in front of prying eyes.

“um follow me” you said grabbing the girls hand and dragging her through the crowd and out the door of the bar, sitting on one of the six steps out the front, emily sitting down next to you as the cold london air hit you both.

“so.. what did-“ emily began after minutes of silence between you both.

“yeah right um just wanted to make amends see where we stand” you pointed between the two of you with a slight laugh, a habit you tended to do when you were sad, something emily picked up immediately.

“oh” was all emily could find the words to say. you were glad it was dark outside in the streets of london as it was able to hide your red cheeks of embarrassment you knew you shouldn’t have had this chat.

you began to back peddle but emily cut you off, “no we need to have this chat but it hurt when you left, i know you had to but you promised to stay in contact and you didn’t. there were so many moments in the past years that i’ve needed you and you haven’t been there.” emily smiled sadly as you bit your lip, you’d been nothing but a dick to her.

“i’m sorry” was all you could say and something you probably should have said to the american a long time ago.

“but i miss you y/n i really do, i miss how we used to be. i know we were never official a thing but i loved you, i really did” emily confessed as you nodded along, the word loved, past tense did that mean she didn’t still love you.

“as sick as it sounds i loved you first” you smiled slightly remember the moment you realised you loved the american. from the moment you met her you knew she was the prettiest girl you’d ever seen.

the two of you sat in silence just taking in each other, as emily carefully moved closer to you as she placed her hand on your cheek, her thumb moving slightly as you sighed. you hands resting on her torso, as you gripped her t-shirt she was wearing.

“y/n” emily breathed out as her hand rested on you cheek, your lips only a mere inch away from touching. you could feel her breath on yours.

“i love you, i’m sorry.” you whispered against her as you moved closer attaching your lips.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Miles Morales’ sibling (Earth-42)

Earth-42!Miles Morales x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Miles42 as y/n’s older brother???”

miles and you were pretty close growing up

you two did everything together

art was your passion and you guys used to love pretending tp be critics

“this needs more color” -you, age 6

“you have no idea what you’re talking about!” -miles, also age 6ish

you’d trade pictures and “help” each other, which really helped you guys find your styles

and all was well and good for a long time. you guys had love from your parents and your uncle and they guided you well through life

uncle aaron helped you guys grow your creativity

your mom taught you compassion and empathy

your dad taught you responsibility and bravery

and after some time, miles and aaron started getting closer, more secretive

“are you hiding something from me?” -you

“no.” -miles

“yes you are”

“no im not”

“so then why am i not invited to aarons anymore? we aren’t making music or murals or whatever else, that’s weird. it’s abrupt”

“yeah, aaron’s busy”

“so then where are you going without me?”

“i can go out without you, y/n”

“you just aren’t yourself anymore”

and soon after that, your dad was killed in action and you weren’t acting yourself either

“hey, maybe its time we bring your sibling into this” -aaron

“trust me, they aren’t ready” -miles

for some time, miles had begun acting as the prowler, using his anger and grief of jefferson’s death to fuel his antics

“miles, y/n needs you. we pulled away, we have to help them” -aaron

“they should stay with mom, we have work to do” -miles

you guys began to shut each other out, you supported your mom since she lost her husband, and you two lived in blissful ignorance of what miles and aaron were working on

“hey kid, brought you some supplies” -aaron

“oh—well, uh, thanks unc” -you

“anytime” -aaron

“i’m glad miles is spending time with aaron, mijo/a. its good for him. for both of them” -rio

“just be nice if they ever spent time with me” -you

“give it time, love. everything will be alright” -rio

you grew more frustrated that miles shut you out and decided to take a look for yourself what they were doing without you

“what the hell?!” -you, walking into aarons apartment and seeing the prowler setup

“get out! no one told you to come here!” -miles

“miles, chill out. that’s your sibling. we wanted to tell you about this. we just wanted to wait until you were ready” -aaron

“ready? you two are sneaking around behind my back, doing god knows what? does mami know?!” -you

“don’t you dare tell her!” -miles

“miles, this is your chance to fix your problems with y/n. lower your voice, talk to them” -aaron

miles and you talked for hours over this, and you were heartbroken that he didn’t tell you sooner and thought he couldn’t

but you suspected he may not have wanted to because he wanted to try this alone

you really did want to be included though, it looked like an incredibly exciting gig

and who knows what kind of trouble you guys could get into together?

it was hard to keep it a secret from rio, but everyone was working out their grief in their own ways

and miles was still in one piece so far, so no harm done?

and one day you got a call from aaron to come to his place. immediately

so imagine your surprise when you saw miles strung up to the punching bag

“what are you doing?! let him down! why did you take out his braids?!” -you

“we didn’t” -miles

you looked SO confused

“who the hell is this?” -you

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out” -aaron

“hey..im miles…” -miles, from another universe

taglist: @summersimmerus // @milkiane // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[invincibledc]

|| UNCLE!READER LOSING HIS GLASSES ||

You woke up, it’s a new morning of you visiting the manor. Glorious! But, when you tried to reach for your glasses, they’re missing. Missing? MISSING?! You can’t see, you’re panicking, terrified. You’ll go blind for the rest of the day like a bat! You got up quickly to try and feel for them as your blurry vision tried its best to see them. Damian walked in with a tray with breakfast, smiling like he won the lottery as Titus was by him. “Uncle! I have prepared you breakfast in be—" “not now sport, uncle lost his glasses and can’t find them.” You said hurriedly as you lift pillows up and down.

Damian immediately puts the tray down and goes to look for them. You both are trying to neatly search for them. Damian says maybe you both should check the living room as you had napped in there before getting to bed. The two Waynes nodded and rushed down stairs, well Damian rushed while holding your hand since you were still blind. Tim walked into the living room to see that you and Damian were busy looking for something. “Whats going on?” He asked as he sits his coffee down. “Lost my glasses Timmy, can’t find em.” Tim immediately got to finding them along you and Damian.

Jason came out of his hell hole of the room to the commotion of his little brothers and uncle just searching for something. “Did uncle lose his glasses again?” He asked as he starts to search with no questions asked. “Yes Jay I di— how did you know?!” “Because you lost them a lot when I was a kid. Now hush old man, let’s find them.”

Searching high and low, Jason went to search the library. No clues there other than the books you had set out for you and Jason to read later.

Dick walks in, confused as he held groceries seeing his three brothers and uncle searching like wild apes. Telling what’s going on, he immediately went to searching as well. In the kitchen was stupid, sure! But usually you take your glasses off when you open the oven to take things out. So what’s the problem? After searching, and searching. You couldn’t help but sit down in the living room feeling defeated. The boys surrounded you, feeling sorry as you just rubbed your eyes with your thumb and pointer finger.

“DONT worry unc, we’ll find them!” “Yeah what dickhead said.” “I could try and make a magnet to get your glasses!” “Let’s just double check for them you fools.” Words being spurred out the boys made you smile, but you just shook your head no. “I could just buy me a new pair..” you said.

The boys didn’t even heard your words as they went off to do their things till find your glasses. You just sigh, Alfred walks in where you sat. “Master Y/N, I suggest you check your room again. I remember when you were a young boy you lost them so much you put them in a certain place.” He says. Hinting is what he is doing. So you listened and got up from the chair and walked upstairs.

Hearing the commotion of your nephews trying to find your glasses. You could tell titus had something with your scent up to his nose as he was trying to sniff out your glasses. Damian smiled as he walked behind his dog. Dick and Jason were walking around as if this was a patrol mission. And Tim was obviously in his room trying to make whatever he can. You walked in your room, and boom! Your memory came into place.

Turn out, you left them in your glasses case in the drawer of your bathroom. You walked into your room, then the bathroom and grabbed them. All the boys rushed in your room, yelling at how they will “found” them. You turned around telling them the story and they all fell dramatically on top of each other. The battle of the nephews was done but not over.

[fadelion]

I keep thinking that Signal would fight crime differently than Batman. It's not because of the daytime patrol, but it's how Signal himself goes about patrolling. He's on the streets, not the rooftops, and that puts him in the middle of people. It might be easy to be a target in a crowd, but Signal has that way of not making people want to hurt him, not from fear alone, but a mix of fear, respect, and admiration, leaning more towards that second one.

He'd be the type to feel like he's gotta be a known and trusted face in the city, not myth or a force of nature like Batman. Is he brutal when it comes to it? Absolutely, and everybody knows it. Either by it being daylight or it being in some more populated areas, Signal's greatest hits make the rounds on social media at least once every other month or so. New villains and old keep trying the new hero, and the new hero keeps finding ways to win. (The Riddler doesn't know whether to be frustrated, frightened, or flattered that Signal's been studying his tricks for years.) But he'd take that whole "Batman keeps candy in the belt for the occasional kid he runs across on patrol" thing to the next level. It'd take a lot of work, but he'd start to be treated like one of those police officers who make themselves known and not just their presence.

I also think that this would eventually give him that kind of worst kept secret identity that Daredevil does (or like Black Lightning wben he was Secretary of Education under Lex Luthor's term as president), where a whole bunch of people know his face or maybe exactly who's under the helmet, but if you press them, it's "Man, I ain't know nothing about no bat. All I know is Signal is Signal, he wear bright ass yellow, and he the type of MF you can flag down if he ain't moving full speed, and instead of needing to know who he is, you NEED to start dapping him up instead of hating on his ass." People could probably pick him out of a lineup, but they'd intentionally not do it. He'd have a bunch if people willing to come to him with a problem or give him a tip or something.

It's rough at first, because everybody sees him like just another Bat, and everybody in the Narrows has a story of how somebody they know or love got done dirty by the big bad Bat. ("That MF powerbombed a guy off a second story balcony onto the roof of my car. Woulda lost my damn job if my auntie ain't give me a ride after her night shift. Almost died, cause she tired as fuck after that double. Bat done broke all my windows and shit. I just got that MF detailed and tinted too!) He's almost seen like a cop at first, and people in the Narrows are wary at best and downright hostile at worst, criminal or not. (Duke gets it. He's as much "Fuck the Police" as he is "Be the change you want to see in the world.") But they notice Signal seems to be a lot more careful than the other bats. Stick Robin is a coin flip on whether he actually cares or is just getting info or stopping crimes, and Sword Robin doesn't give a fuck how uneasy he makes you. The girls are fine, unless they after you, then you paying Ms. Rita or Mr. Raymond to set your bones back and maybe getting some crutches from Shawn that fell off the back of a truck or out the pawn shop or a neighbor or something.

("Red Hood, like, he a'ight. I mean, he killed Unc and them, but his rules really did make it a bit better out here tho. Just took a minute.")

But Signal? If he got you, you really did that shit. Like, you was talking to people you shouldn't have been talking to and making deals you shouldn't have been doing. Signal will give you the chance to turn yourself in, or just stop, or something. You'll be breaking in the trap house for the first cook, and Signal will just pop in like "Did you know Mama Shirley about to retire from her job at the post office?" And he'll just look at you like you're stupid until you turn off the stove, and then he'll pat you on the shoulder and leave. And when you finally get that job, within the first week, Signal calls you by name and asks how the job treating you. Signal will stop the robbery at the corner store and then drop the robber off at his granny's house because that punishment would feel way worse than jail time. Signal having people to call off drive-bys because he was spotted on the next block playing basketball or getting lunch at that one food truck or talking with the old heads or something.

(When the Flash, on a rare trip to Gotham, notices and compliments him on it, Duke grins responds "I'm just trying to get like you.")

[13uswntimagines]

Spiral (Alessia Russo X MMA!R)

Request: Could you maybe do something where less isn’t around to help r through something and r is spiraling more and more while needing someone to bring her back. One of Alessia's teammates has to kind of shout at r and tell her to kneel or something for her to be grounded featuring Mary (and Lucy slightly)

Part of The come Down universe

Warming: D/s elements. Blood and violence (mentioned but nothing graphic- R punches a wall several times).

It was easy for people to believe that you had an easy life, filled with nothing more than champagne problems and affluenza. 

All they saw were the press conferences and interviews after fights where you were riding high on your success. They didn’t see the weeks where you trained upwards of 18 hours a day and ate so strictly that even your water content was measured. 

They didn’t see how difficult it was to balance your career and Alessia’s, and the weeks you sometimes went apart. 

They didn’t see the nagging injuries that followed you like old ghosts. 

And they thought the 1% of your life they saw was enough context for them to make assumptions about the rest of your life, including your relationship with your girlfriend. 

You had never been big on social media, but that didn’t mean you were entirely shielded from it. 

Especially not when the date for your title fight against Justin Gathje was announced. 

Dana wanted you to hype the fight, to make a comment about how wild Justin was in the cage, and how your far more technical style would be a good match. 

And you thought the spare moments you had sitting in Alessia’s national team cubby while she did her final lap around Wembley for the fans was the perfect moment. 

But as you flicked through your Twitter app, you, realized very quickly that it was a terrible idea. 

Justin had already commented on the fight and accompanied his post with pictures of you in the stands a Wembley dressed in your girlfriend's jersey and one of him sweating in the gym. 

I think a championship contender should at least be putting in the work instead of fucking off with a bitch who deserves better. #gonnasilencethegolddigger

You knew that it was a stupid post. It made no sense because the fight was 20 weeks away, and starting training camp now, three days post-fight, would only lead to burnout and injuries. 

You knew that it was completely untrue considering you had met Alessia at UNC where you had a nice wrestling scholarship and she had a soccer one. There had been no gold to dig. 

But that didn’t stop the general public from hopping on the hate train. 

There were thousands of replies, and mentions and posts clogging your feed about how undeserving you were. 

About how awful of a fighter you were. 

About how Alessia deserved someone who could support her. 

But it wasn’t the comments from the general public that bothered you. 

It was the ones from her former teammates that dug into your brain and stuck. 

Her own family didn’t want her so much they shipped her off to America, so it’s sad she’s dragged a stand-up baller like Lessie into her mess. She didn’t deserve her state championship either. #alwaysridingcoattails.

Her own family didn’t want her

Dragged Lessie into her mess

The words burned into your mind, so you saw them every time you closed your eyes, getting more and more bold each time the number of interactions went up. 

1000

15,000

300,000

2,000,000

You launched your phone across the room, uncaring how it smashed into a million pieces on the stone like it would smash the image on the screen. 

Like it would shatter the tweet and the shots coming from people who had never met you. 

Like it would change how right they were. 

You breathed in deeply, trying to quell the growing ache in your chest and soothe the feelings bubbling in your stomach. 

Alessia’s scent surrounded you, filling your lungs and coating all of your senses. It was normally like a balm on an open wound or ice for a burn, the remedy to your anxiety and a promise that she was there for you. 

That she would always be there. 

That promise was part of the reason your relationship took the dynamic it did. 

Except this time, her scent didn’t loosen the knot in your chest. 

It just reminded you how much you took from her. How much better off she would have been if you had never run into her at UNC. 

You shoved yourself out of Alessia’s locker, you didn’t deserve to sit in it and paced the small room. 

The walls felt like they were getting closer together, and the air felt too heavy. 

You couldn’t breathe.

You needed release. 

You paused at the far end of the room, staring at the white concrete. 

Your fist hit the cold concrete before you even thought about it, and you relished in the pressure of the hard surface on your exposed knuckles. It was more than when you hit pads, more than when you hit someone else. 

It was perfect. 

You did it again. 

You weren’t enough. You hadn’t been for your parents. You wouldn’t be enough for Alessia either. 

Your fist hit the wall again. 

That’s what everyone had been saying for months. That’s what your father told you when you tried to make amends. 

You could see how right they were. 

Stupid worthless 

You hit the wall again. 

How much better off they would be without you. 

“Y/n?”

You didn’t even blink at Ella’s voice. 

You weren’t good enough. How could you ever be?

You had been birthed by two drug addicts more interested in their own highs than in raising a child. Your neighborhood MMA gym was the only place you had ever found food and safety. How could you ever be enough for Alessia who had been raised by loving parents? Who didn’t have to scrape and claw for food scraps? 

Who didn’t crave the freedom you found in total violence. In the destruction of a human. 

In the destruction of herself. 

“Y/n stop,” 

Hands gripped your shoulder, trying to prevent your arm from moving as you launched it again at the slightly pink wall. 

It didn’t work. 

Your hand slammed into the wall again. 

It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough to ease the volcano in your chest. 

You needed more. 

“Y/n please,” 

Ella’s voice sounded very close to your ear and stinger arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to force you away.

A guttural sound left your lips as the arms were finally able to pull you away, and Lucy stepped between you and your only solace. 

You needed it. 

“Calm down,” Mary hissed, her arms tugging you again. 

You were too out of it to wonder when she had gotten there. 

“Go get Alessia,” Lucy said, looking over your shoulder towards who you assumed was Ella. “Now,” 

You fought against the arms restraining you. 

Keeping you from the only thing that would make the ripping feeling in your brain go quiet. 

The door slammed shut and you were forced back another step by strong arms. 

“Y/n you need to relax, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Lucy held her hands up as she took a step towards you like you were a wild animal. 

And you supposed you were. 

Wild and out of control. Spiraling into oblivion. 

Lucy Met Mary’s eyes when you fought harder in the keeper's hold, your eyes wildly flickering as your limbs flailed. 

This was well out of their ability to fix. 

“We have to do it,” Lucy said, and Mary instantly knew what she meant. 

Mary nodded once. 

She knew you better than Lucy did, so she knew it had to be her if they wanted it to work. 

It was the only thing she could think of to help you. 

The thing that Alessia would do for you 

They had only seen it happen once. 

It was the only time the keeper had seen your dynamic's heavier side. The only time Alessia looked truly dominant, and you looked submissive. 

Mary squared her shoulders, drawing up to her full height, picturing in her mind the way Alessia had touched you and the tone that she had used. Soft, but dripping in authority that had shocked Mary. 

She tried to remember the words your girlfriend had used, the way her fingers pressed perfectly into your skin to make you melt. 

She pulled away from you slightly, drawing her hand from your stomach to land heavily on the space where your shoulder met your neck. 

“Y/n,” She said mimicking the sheer dominance that Alessia’s voice held that night. “I think that’s enough darling. Kneel for me,” 

You froze. 

A shiver ran the full length of your spine at the familiar words, and your shoulders rolled like a physical weight had been added to them. 

You blinked as the order filtered through the fog in your brain, registering that though it was familiar, the voice that had given it was not. 

Her arm loosened around your middle as all of the fight left you, but she kept the grounding hand on your neck. 

You leaned into it, breathing in through your nose and very slowly releasing it through your clenched teeth. 

You sagged with each exhale, sinking very slowly until you were kneeling at Mary’s feet. 

Your head bowed, and you rested your hands palm up on your knees as another rattling breath left you, pressing back into the hand still on your neck like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away into oblivion.

Mary stood frozen, staring at you as you fixed your posture (Alessia hated it when you slouched) and all of the tension, her eyes darting up to meet Lucy’s. 

She hadn’t been sure that it would work. That you would listen to it because she wasn’t Alessia. But now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do. 

She didn’t know what came next, or how to navigate it without crossing your boundaries. 

“Good job Y/n,” Lucy said, keeping her voice as soft as Mary’s. “We’re just going to stay here and calm down, alright?”

You let out another shuddering breath, more ripples quaking down your spine, and Mary very gently ran her thumb in circles at the back of your neck, hoping it would help to keep you settled. 

She knew it was the touch Alessia always took when you were anxious or nervous, but she was also very much aware that she was not Alessia. 

“And then we’ll get one of the trainers to look at your hand after Lessie gets here,” The defender continued, her eyes trained on where your jeans were slowly turning red with the blood from your hand. 

“But for now, we’re going to just stay right here,” Mary repeated, letting her thumb graze the nape of your neck. 

*******

“Less,” Ella’s voice cut through the sounds of the fans calling for Alessia’s attention, the panic in it drawing the strikers eyes before the midfielder skidded to a stop beside her. 

“What’s happened?” Alessia asked, passing the shirt she was signing back to the young girl who had handed it to her. 

“Y/n,” Ella panted, her eyes wide, afraid despite the cameras pointed their way. “I’ve never seen her like that,” 

Alessia frowned, turning away from the fans and wrapping an arm around Ella’s shoulder to give them some semblance of privacy. 

“Seen her like what?” She asked, her tone low with something… darker lingering under the surface. 

Ella shook her head, unable to describe it with words. “I need you to come, quickly,” 

“Ok,” Alessia agreed, following after the midfielder with little question. 

She knew that whatever had happened had to be bad to cause that look. To have Ella say it in front of the fans. 

Ella sprinted back towards the tunnel with Alessia on her heels, weaving between equipment people, and players until they reached the locker room. 

Leah stood outside the door, directing players to the other showers. 

Alessia’s frown deepened. “What’s going on?”

“We thought a smaller audience would be better,” Leah murmured, stepping aside for them. “Looks pretty brutal mate,” 

Ella patted her back and she stepped towards the door, steeling herself for whatever was inside as she pressed it open. 

Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her. 

It looked like something out of a slasher film. 

Red covered one of the white stone walls, dripping onto the gray floor in dime-sized circles to where you were sitting. No kneeling between Mary and Lucy, a dark patch forming from where it had soaked into your jeans. 

Her jaw clenched at your position. 

It was hard for people to understand but kneeling was something… intimate between the two of you. It was a show of the trust that you had for her to take care of you. A way to reinforce the power dynamic in your relationship. 

It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable enough to kneel for her, and she treasured how willing you were now. How you seemed to… crave the position. 

For someone else to put you there didn’t sit well with her. 

Neither did the way Mary’s hand was holding the back of your neck. 

“What happened?” She grit out, her eyes flitting between your form and the two women on your either side. 

“we’re not entirely sure. We just caught the tail end,” Mary murmured, her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. 

Your eyes were closed, but Alessia could see the tension in your posture. She could see how on edge you were. 

How close you were to subspace. 

She snooker her head. “And you thought that this was the solution?”

She wanted to scream at her friends. To give them a lecture about consent and safety and trust (even though you wouldn’t be kneeling for them if you didn’t trust them). 

They didn’t know your boundaries. This hadn’t been discussed. What if it went wrong and they didn’t recognize the signs of you passing the point of consent? 

She knew you often leaned into the dynamic you shared to calm down. To let go, but she knew your limits. She knew your safe word. 

She knew all of the signs to look for, because you craved pain when you felt unstable (a habit that had lingered from your childhood), and you wouldn’t always vocalize your limits. 

She worried how far backward you would slip after this. 

“It was the only way I could think of to get her to calm down. She wasn’t responding to anything else Less,” Mary explained, her voice very soft and gentle. “I tried to do exactly what you do,” 

“We also stayed away from honorifics,” Lucy added. “We knew we were overstepping a bit as it was and didn’t want to push further than we had to,” 

Alessia wanted to snort that overstepping was an understatement, but she didn’t. 

That wouldn’t help you. 

Avoiding honorifics had been a very thoughtful touch. 

That would have sent you careening into sub-space, and she doubted either of them could have handled that. 

“Alright,” She said, taking a deep breath. 

She would need to talk to them later, but right now, her priority was you. 

And getting to the bottom of what happened. 

Of what changed in the 10 minutes you had been left alone. 

She settled herself on the bench, placing her sweatshirt on the ground near her feet to act as a cushion for you, and taking a deep calming breath before she let her eyes fall on you. 

“Babygirl,” Her voice came out stern, but not angry, and for the first time, you raised your gaze from the floor to meet hers. “Come here,” 

She gestured towards the spot at her feet, and without hesitating, you carefully pulled out of Mary’s grasp and crawled to her. 

Her fingers weaved through your hair, and she guided you to rest your cheek on her thigh once you settled on the sweatshirt. “What’s going on sweet one? Talk to me,”

You nuzzled into the soft skin of her leg as her nails dragged against your scalp, trying to remember how to speak. 

How to form words that would accurately describe the tearing feeling in your chest. 

“Not enough,”

The words were horse as they left your lips, heavy and wet like they had been pulled from the depths of your soul. 

Alessia hummed, her nails digging more deeply into your hair. “What’s not enough?”

Your breath rattled in your chest, shaking through you to your core. 

At the depths of it, you were not enough. 

You would never be enough. 

“I’ll go get a doc,” Lucy murmured before you heard the sound of the door. 

“What is not enough,” Alessia asked again, more insistent. 

“I’m not enough, Miss,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Alessia tutted. “We both know that’s not true,” 

You groaned. 

It was true. The whole internet believed it. 

“It is,” You insisted, pulling away from her warm hold to meet her eyes. “Everyone believes it,” 

“Who is everyone?” Alessia pressed, staying calm and even. Being your stability. 

“I think this has something to do with it,” Mary said, and your eyes snapped to her, where she was holding your demolished phone, the tweets still lighting up the screen. 

You had forgotten she was still here. 

“What is it?” 

Alessia held her free hand out for it, using the other to settle you back against her thigh. 

“Bullshit,” Mary answered, passing the phone to your dominant, moving slowly around you, like she was afraid to spook you. 

Alessia hummed, flicking through the images on your cracked screen. 

The room was silent as she read the words that had set you off, and you let your eyes slide closed, enjoying her closeness. 

Enjoying the ability to let go, and trust that she would take care of it. 

You ignored the sound of the door opening again, and feet approaching you and Alessia. You didn’t care if people saw you. You knew that she would defend you if you needed it. 

“Sweet girl,” Alessia said, fingers tightening in your hair, and you opened your eyes to meet hers over the phone. “Let them look at your hands,” 

Your eyes flickered towards the medics, kneeling in front of you, Lucy standing protectively behind them with Mary. 

You hummed, slowly lifting your dominant hand and holding it out towards the medic. 

He took it gently between his own and began to examine it with a frown. 

“I think she needs x-rays,” He said, looking over you towards Alessia who was still scrolling through your feed. “And I can wrap it after that,” 

“Alright,” She said, putting your phone down. “We’ll meet you in the training room in just a moment. Can you three give us a second?”

The medic nodded, retreating with Mary and Lucy.

“Take your time,” Mary paused in the doorway. “Me and Luce will get cleaned up and meet you,” 

Alessia let out a sound of agreement. 

She waited for the door to close before she very gently pulled you up from your knees and into her lap. 

You rested your cheek on her chest, tucking your nose into her still-sweaty jersey. 

This time her scent didn’t set you on edge. It joined the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around you and her chin on your head, making you feel safe and warm and cared for, even when you didn’t think you deserved it. 

“You know all of those tweets are bullshit right?” She asked after your breathing had evened out. “They’re just trying to get under your skin,”

You made a low noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 

“You are deserving because you are amazing. You are an incredible fighter, and a good human despite the shit hand you were dealt,” She continued. “I love you, and I will always be here for you. Whether you are the world champion, or we’re eating spam and crackers on my bedroom floor,” 

Your eyes slid closed and you buried your face in her chest, your lips lifting just a bit at the mention of your favorite snack from college. 

From when you were too broke to afford dinner on the weekends. 

It didn’t entirely fix the crumbling feeling that accompanied each beat of your heart, but her words were like a tether holding you to reality. 

She had loved you before you were a UFC star and she was England's Star Girl, and she would love you after. 

That was all that mattered. 

She squeezed you tightly and kissed your head. “Let’s go get your hands fixed and then we can go back to the hotel and watch Love Island before bed, alright?”

You hummed again. 

You knew a talk about your coping mechanism, about the wall you had destroyed, would also be included after you had come down. 

But you didn’t mind. 

You and Alessia would get through it. Together.