#and fought for me to be store manager

[hythlodaes]

lmaoooo i hate change!!!!

[missdynamighttt]

teehee, shopping with bf! katsuki for the first time is a whole new experience.

you dragged him to the mall under the pretense of just browsing. katsuki grumbles, complains the whole car ride, mutters something about how he'd rather "eat glass" than spend a weekend in a fluorescent-lit hellscape.

but the second you tug on his wrist and smile up at him, he shuts up and follows. what you don’t expect?

how much of a problem he becomes the second you enter the fitting room.

you're barely five minutes into trying on outfits when it starts. you step out, smoothing down a dress, turning side to side in the mirror.

you barely manage a “what do you think?” before he drops the phone he wasn’t even looking at and sits up straighter.

“turn around.”

you blink. “huh?”

“lemme see the back.”

you do. he whistles low, then squints. “try that in the other color.”

you raise a brow. “oh, so now you care?”

“tch. i care when it looks like that on you.”

from then on, it’s over. every. single. outfit. he's like that.

“yeah, do a little spin.”

“too tight in the chest. not that i’m complaining.”

“damn, sweets. you tryna kill me or sumthin'?”

he lounges on the little bench like he owns the place—legs spread, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you’re center stage and he’s the only judge that matters. the store’s mirror might show you the front, but he’s giving full commentary on the back. and the sides. and the neckline.

he’s unreasonably hot while doing it too. hood half-up, jaw sharp, legs spread like he’s got thoughts about every skirt you shimmy into.

and the worst part? you start playing it up.

slipping out of the fitting room with a little strut. spinning slow just to watch his jaw tighten. running your hands down your sides, real innocent, then pretending not to notice the way he swears under his breath.

“you’re lucky we’re in public,” he grits when you try on a slinky little number that hugs way too close.

you blink. “so you like it?”

he growls. “i like it on the floor of our bedroom.”

you nearly explode.

one outfit later, you try something on that you already know is ridiculous—fluffy, sparkly, way too over-the-top—but you step out just to mess with him.

you expect him to laugh. maybe tease. instead?

he blinks once. then shrugs. “buy it.”

you pause. “wait… really?”

he smirks. “you look happy in it. that’s all i care about.”

by the time you're done, you're practically floating out of the store—arms light, mood lighter, cheeks a little sore from how much you've been grinning.

katsuki?

katsuki is not floating. katsuki is lugging six bags in one hand, two on the other, and somehow managing to balance the weirdly long one that holds the dress bag across his broad shoulders like a damn pack mule.

and the whole time? he looks pissed. jaw tight, bags slapping against his thighs as he stomps beside you.

you peek over at him, smiling sweetly. “you’re the one who said to buy everything, suki.”

“tch. only ‘cause you looked hot in it, dumbass.”

you giggle. “so it’s your fault?”

he stops walking. and glares. hard.

“i swear to god, if you say that again, i’m droppin’ all these bags and draggin’ you into the back of that h&m.”

you blink innocently. “so romantic.”

“try me, sweetheart.”

despite all his complaining, he doesn’t put a single bag down. not when you stop for a smoothie. not when you see a cute little accessory stand. not even when you wander over to look at shoes you’re not even planning on buying.

he just stands there, one foot tapping, arms full of pink and glitter and tissue paper, looking like a man who’s fought gods and monsters and still wasn’t prepared for the chaos that is dating you.

at one point, you lean up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

“thanks for carrying everything,” you murmur.

he huffs. “yeah, yeah.”

you kiss him again, this time slower, lingering by the edge of his jaw. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

and that does get a response. his ears go a little red. his mouth twitches like he wants to smile but is physically restraining it.

“hmph. i better be,” he mutters, looking away like a child, shifting all the bags in one hand just so he can wrap the other arm around your shoulders.

still grumbling.

still red.

still the best, grumpiest mall boyfriend in existence.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ bc i love procrastinating and dont write the shit i should write lmao💜 hope you guys enjoyed!!

[rosemaryhoney27]

Cat Conspiracy

The Cat Conspiracy

Damian Wayne had tracked assassins across continents, dismantled crime syndicates before breakfast, and fought rogue AI while still managing to ace his Latin homework.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for Danny Fenton.

Specifically, Danny Fenton and his suspicious pattern of visiting pet stores all over Gotham, emerging each time with an armful of cats.

Damian narrowed his eyes from the rooftop across the street as Danny exited The Purring Palace with five cats in various shades of tabby draped across his arms, a smug little smile on his face.

Damian’s voice was a low growl in the comms. “Grayson. I’ve got eyes on Fenton again. He’s acquired more felines. That’s the third pet store this week. Something is afoot.”

Across the city, Dick let out an exaggerated groan. “Maybe he just likes cats?”

“No one likes cats that much. Not without a nefarious purpose,” Damian replied, dead serious.

“Damian, buddy, you live with eight trained attack bats and a demon dog. Let the kid have some cats.”

“I will not rest until I uncover his scheme.”

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton was indeed up to something.

He wasn't robbing banks or raising a ghost army or even stealing Gotham's supply of tuna fish. His plan was, in fact, adorably petty.

“Here you go, Mr. Meowser,” he whispered as he tucked the newest stray into a box carefully prepared with toys, a mini litter pan, and an engraved name tag. “You’re going to love your new home. It has three fireplaces, heated floors, and a man who pretends to hate you but secretly buys you imported kibble.”

He grinned as the box closed.

Operation: Furry Revenge was going purrfectly.

After all, if Vlad Masters—billionaire fruit loop, obsessed with power, and frequent thorn in Danny’s ghostly side—was too busy dealing with the ever-growing clowder of feline freeloaders mysteriously showing up at his mansion, then he’d have zero time for evil schemes.

Better yet, Vlad hadn’t sent a ghost assassin after him in weeks. The last thing he’d screamed over the phone was, “Daniel, I am not a cat café!”—right before the line went dead and the sound of a kitten meowing played faintly in the background.

Success.

Vlad was unraveling.

He now owned no less than thirty-two cats, each with names like “Princess Fuzzums,” “Waffle,” and “Mr. Stabby.”

They appeared out of nowhere.

Well, not nowhere. Always in tidy, clearly handmade boxes, addressed to him, complete with vet records and gourmet food recommendations.

He’d tried to be mad. He’d tried to find the source. But the cats... they purred.

One had curled up on his chest and started kneading at his robe while purring like a chainsaw, and now she had a bed on his desk and he dictated business emails around her nap schedule.

He was losing the war, and the worst part? He was starting to like it.

Damian had enough.

He dropped down from a rooftop like an avenging shadow as Danny exited yet another pet store with a fluffy ginger kitten perched on his head like a crown.

“I knew it.”

Danny screamed and nearly dropped the kitten. “What the hell?! Do you practice dramatic entrances?”

“You’ve been acquiring cats for a dark purpose,” Damian said, voice cold and accusatory. “I demand to know what you’re planning.”

Danny blinked at him. Then grinned.

“Would you believe me if I said it was a long-term plan to neutralize a billionaire supervillain through the power of feline responsibility?”

Damian stared.

Danny kept going. “I call it Operation: Claw and Order. My target now owns thirty-two cats. That’s roughly thirty-one more than he emotionally admits to loving.”

“…You’re weaponizing cats.”

“Yes,” Danny said, very proud.

Damian folded his arms. “…Interesting. I approve.”

Danny blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I would’ve used snakes, but your method is arguably more insidious. If you require assistance in continuing this campaign, I can connect you with Selina Kyle. She has... resources.”

Danny cackled. “Oh my god, is this what friendship feels like?”

“No,” Damian said immediately. “…But I’ll help deliver the next batch.”

And just like that, Gotham’s weirdest alliance was born: the half-ghost boy with a vengeance plan powered by kittens, and the Bat’s youngest, most terrifying son.

Vlad never knew what hit him.

But his cats were very well-fed.

[0scarp1astr1]

Spoiled Much? (P1)

જ⁀➴ Desc: || Pranking them but telling them you let another man pay for you. ||

P2

ᯓ★ Featuring: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Fernando Alonso.

ᯓ★ 1x Genre: Humor

ᯓ★ Warning: None

ᯓ★ Requested? Yes

Author Note: We are back to headcanons! and doing requests given to me. I've been working on the masterlist that will soon replace the original pinned post. It'll have links to each part of these headcanosn so I hope you all enjoy.

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Max Verstappen

It all started with a few innocent scrolls on TikTok—girls pranking their boyfriends left and right—and you figured, why not? Max had just handed you his card to go grab a few things from the store, trusting you like he always did. That’s when the perfect plan popped into your mind.

"Call me if you need me," he said casually, completely unaware. You hummed in response, leaned over to kiss his cheek, and slipped out of the car with a little too much pep in your step.

Max leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting the car sit idle in the parking spot. At first, he thought nothing of your delay. He assumed you were just stuck in a long line. Meanwhile, inside, you were hunched over a cart, hiding your giggles behind your hand as you rehearsed the prank in your head.

Eventually, you managed to compose yourself, strolled out with your bags in hand, and tossed them into the back seat before slipping into your place beside him. You buckled up, eyes wide with innocent mischief.

"The man I ran into was really nice—he paid for everything," you said smoothly.

Max turned toward you, brow already furrowing. "The man?" he echoed, confused. "What are you talking about, lieverd?"

You nodded, playing it cool. "Yeah, he said I was pretty and that I shouldn’t have to pay on my own, so...he paid for everything."

Max leaned toward you, staring like he was trying to read your soul. "You weren’t paying on your own? That was literally my card."

"Yeah," you shrugged, holding it out to him. "But he insisted."

He took the card from your hand, jaw tightening slightly. "How old was this guy?"

You pretended to think, dragging out the moment. "Hmm… around your age, I guess?"

Max scoffed. "And he just—what—started complimenting you and offered to pay? Just like that?"

You fought the urge to burst into laughter. "He wasn’t hitting on me," you said, smiling just a little too much.

"He called you pretty," Max shot back, frowning. "And don’t get me wrong—you are—but still. He clearly meant what he said. That’s not casual."

You just nodded solemnly, letting the tension hang in the air a second longer before he abruptly unbuckled. "Alright, I’m going back inside to find this guy."

You grabbed his arm, laughter spilling out now. "Max, wait—"

"No, seriously," he huffed. "He thinks you’re single or something. Like he has a shot. I can afford to fly you to Monaco, let you live in my house, be spoiled every day of your life—what can he offer you?"

You were full-on laughing now, tears threatening to sting your eyes. "Baby, I was pranking you. There was no guy. I used your card like you said."

Max froze, blinking at you. Slowly, his stern expression melted into something softer, almost amused.

"You’re evil," he muttered, shaking his head. Then he let out a quiet laugh of his own. "Don’t joke like that, lieverd. You know I don’t care if people think you’re pretty—but if someone’s actually hitting on you? No. Absolutely not."

You leaned over, kissing his cheek. "Look at you, all protective and jealous."

"You nearly scared me to death, lieverd,"

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Charles Leclerc

Charles was home, lounging on the couch with Leo curled up beside him, the little dog resting his chin on Charles' leg like the most loyal companion. The TV played softly in the background, a comforting buzz. Before you left, Charles had handed you his card with a smile, telling you to get whatever you were craving for dinner tonight. But instead of heading straight home after shopping, you were too busy plotting your latest prank—one inspired by a few too many TikToks.

"I'm home!" you called out as you stepped inside. At once, Leo perked up, leaping from the couch and padding over to greet you with his tail wagging wildly.

Charles looked over his shoulder. "I was starting to worry," he said, standing up. "You took longer than usual."

You smiled innocently, setting your keys down and slipping off your shoes. After leaning in to kiss his cheek, you dropped the first line. "Sorry, this guy paid for everything and we just got caught up in conversation."

Charles froze, staring at you like you'd just said the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “Je t’ai donné ma carte ?” he asked, blinking slowly.

You hummed. "I know, but he was really sweet. Said I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about paying. He covered it."

Charles just stared for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “That’s unbelievable. People are going to assume you're dating him.”

You fought back a grin, holding it in with all your strength. "No one’s going to think that but you, Charles."

“Sure, sure,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen. You followed him, bags in hand.

"Tu fais la moue ?" you teased once inside, catching a glimpse of his unmistakably pouty expression.

Charles didn’t even try to hide it. He just stared at you, arms crossed like a sulking prince. “I treat you well. We live in Monaco. We have Leo,” he gestured around, like the dog was part of his romantic résumé. “I drive in F1—and you're letting some random guy hit on you, baby?”

You couldn’t help it anymore. You broke, laughing as you set the bags on the counter. “I was just messing with you, Charles. There was no guy. I used your card—like I was supposed to.”

He let out a long sigh, his head dropping back slightly. “Don’t scare me like that, woman. I thought some random was actually going to take you away from me.”

You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m with you, Charles. Why would some random have me?”

He gave a tiny shrug, still sulking. “You never know.”

You patted his back playfully. “I got you good,” you said through a soft laugh. Leo barked at your feet as if to agree, his tail wagging like he, too, was in on the joke.

Charles looked down at the dog, then at you, his pout slowly morphing into a smirk

“Yeah, well—just wait, Y/N. One day, I’ll get you back.”

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Lewis Hamilton

You and Lewis had been shopping together most of the day, casually wandering the aisles like the soft domestic duo you were. At some point, Lewis veered off toward the pet section to get Roscoe a few new treats and maybe a fresh toy or two, promising to meet you up front when he was done. You nodded sweetly and went your own way—though behind that innocent look, you were plotting. And not just any plan: a prank. A classic, lighthearted trap for your sweet, loving, “just tell me what you need and I’ll buy it” boyfriend.

After grabbing everything you came for, you paid for your cart using your own money, then waited with the most innocent look you could muster. Lewis eventually showed up, a plush dog bed under one arm and a pack of Roscoe’s favorite snacks in the other.

"You already paid for your stuff?" he asked, dropping the items onto the counter.

You nodded, slipping into character. "No actually… this really nice guy offered to pay. Said I looked beautiful today, and he didn’t want me lifting a finger."

Lewis blinked. “He what?”

"He paid for me," you repeated with a shrug, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "Said it was his pleasure. Real gentleman type."

Lewis squinted at you like you just told him someone insulted Roscoe. "Baby… that man was flirting with you."

You shook your head, playing dumb. “No, he was just being nice.”

“Right. ‘Just being nice,’” Lewis echoed, making air quotes with a look of complete disbelief. “Because men randomly pay for groceries out of the kindness of their hearts and not at all to shoot their shot with a gorgeous woman.”

You kept your poker face as he grabbed the shopping bags and kept going. “I don’t see myself out here buying random women’s almond milk and cucumbers just to be nice. That’s a move.”

You tried to hide your smirk. “You sound a little… jealous.”

Lewis narrowed his eyes. “I’m not jealous. I’m logical. Man sees a beautiful woman, she’s alone, he tries his luck with his wallet. Basic flirting algorithm.”

“I mean, it worked. He was really sweet.”

That did it.

Lewis ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh. “Look, it’s great someone thinks you’re hot enough to swipe a card for—but you know I’m right here. You never have to let some man pay for you when your boyfriend drives for a living. Just sayin’.”

You watched him ramble with a barely contained laugh as he kept going.

“I mean, come on, I spoil you for a reason. And now some stranger thinks he can step in with a grocery run? That’s his whole move?”

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You burst into laughter, your body shaking as you leaned into the cart. “Lewis. Babe. It was a prank. I paid for everything. No man, no flirting, no almond milk Casanova.”

He blinked, pausing mid-rant. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“I am. Gotcha.”

He took a breath like someone who’d just been pulled from open water. “I’m forty, woman. You can’t play with my blood pressure like that.”

You grinned. “Alright, old man.”

Lewis straightened up immediately. “I am not an old man.”

“You didn’t even catch on to the prank, grandpa.”

He narrowed his eyes, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Forty doesn’t make me old. It makes me wise. And this wise man now knows he’s being pranked in public.”

You patted his back “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go easy on you next time.”

Lewis gave a low chuckle, wagging a finger at you.

“No, no. You started something. A prank war is officially declared. So… just be prepared.”

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Lando Norris

When it came to you and Lando, pranks weren’t just an occasional thing—they were a lifestyle. The relationship came with love, laughter, and a mild risk of heart attacks. Like the time he woke you up at 3AM with a horror mask and you nearly karate-kicked him into next week. Or when you served him a fish smoothie and he banned you from the blender for a month. Your TikTok followers? Obsessed. They lived for every prank war update, every meltdown, every squeal of revenge.

So when you got tagged in a new viral prank trend, it was practically a public request to strike again. You didn’t hesitate. The phone was propped up, camera rolling discreetly, and you were all set. Lando, of course, had no clue what was coming.

You heard the door open and quickly pretended to be busy with prep in the kitchen. He walked in, hoodie slightly damp from the gym, cheeks flushed from the workout. “Smells good,” he said, setting down the grocery bag before leaning in for a soft kiss. “Took me forever to find that stupid oat cream you like.”

You smiled sweetly. “Oh, you didn’t have to. I ended up sending that list to Joshua earlier, and he already grabbed everything for me. Paid for it too. Said, and I quote, ‘anything for the pretty lady.’ Sweet, huh?”

Lando froze, hand still half-in the bag. “Joshua?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, biting your inner cheek.

He blinked. “As in your friend Joshua? The one who wears too much cologne and tried to teach me how to salsa at that dinner party?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, he insisted.”

Lando scoffed, standing up straighter. “I literally sweat through my hoodie at the gym, fought for a parking spot, went to four aisles for oat cream—and you let another man, one who smells like a Hugo Boss sample sale, buy your groceries?”

You struggled to keep a straight face. “He was being nice.”

“Oh, nice? Nice?! That’s the international signal for flirting. What’s next, is he gonna tuck you into bed and read you poetry? Babe, if I see him handing you a spoon while you're cooking, I might lose it.”

“Are you jealous?”

“I’m insulted. I’m offended. I’m—” He placed a hand over his chest. “—deeply betrayed. I mean, I pay rent! I drive race cars for a living! I went out to get snacks for your cravings at 4AM one time! And now I’m just… footnote boyfriend?”

You snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”

He gasped. “Go ask Joshua to massage your feet tonight then. My spa services are officially retired. Hope he has peppermint oil.”

At that point, you burst into laughter, pointing toward the camera recording from the corner. Lando followed your gaze, groaned, and dragged a hand down his face. “You little gremlin,” he muttered. “Of course it’s a prank. Of course.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“I do. Too much. Which is why you’re lucky you’re cute, because anyone else trying this would be blocked and reported.”

You leaned up, kissing his jaw gently. “You’re my favorite victim.”

He smirked. “And you’re my favorite menace. But just know—this war? It’s not over. I know you're scared of some bugs and some...other things. I’ve got Oscar on speed dial.”

Your eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I will. I already know where you hide your slippers.”

“LANDO NORRIS!” you shrieked as he backed into the hallway, giggling like the absolute child he was.

“Love you!” he called over his shoulder.

“Calling Oscar now! Let’s ruin her life!”

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Carlos Sainz

Carlos and you had been on the road for way too long, the kind of drive where you’ve already debated three podcast topics, played the same five songs on repeat, and shared half a bag of chips in silence. You were coming back from a much-needed trip—two full weeks away from the chaos of daily life. But now, you were finally heading home. And honestly? You were ready.

Still, you needed one last laugh before real life kicked back in. So, naturally, you plotted a prank.

You’d been riding like a queen in the passenger seat the whole time—pillow tucked under your head, cozy in the Christmas blanket Carlos had gotten you last year, doing everything but offering to drive. So when Carlos offered to go into the store to grab some snacks, you stopped him with a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll go,” you insisted, taking his card from his hand.

He smirked. “Okay, but bring chips. Whatever you pick, I’ll eat it, mi amor.”

Inside, you grabbed everything you both liked—chips, drinks, something sweet. But instead of swiping his card, you paid with yours. And as you made your way back to the car, the plan was already in motion.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you handed him his card back with a calm smile. “You know,” you said casually, “the cashier was really nice. Paid for everything himself. Said he’d just take it out of his paycheck. Also told me my shirt looked cute.”

Carlos stared at you. “Wait—my shirt? That’s literally mine, you’re wearing my clothes.”

“Yeah, but he liked it,” you said with a shrug. “Said it brought out my eyes.”

Carlos blinked at you like he’d just short-circuited. “Oh my god.”

You bit your lip, trying to hide your laugh.

“Mi amor, what do you mean some random cashier paid for your snacks and flirted with you while you were wearing my clothes? Do I look like I’m sharing?”

You tried to keep a straight face as he gestured wildly at the snack bag like it had betrayed him. “I don’t even want these anymore. I can’t eat the chips. They’ve been... compromised.”

“Carlos—”

“No, seriously. You have a ring on your finger! Granted, it’s a promise ring, but still, the promise is loud and clear! I was gone for five minutes and I already lost you to a gas station Romeo?”

That was it. You burst out laughing, your head thrown back as tears formed in your eyes.

He narrowed his gaze, suspicious. “Wait. No. Don’t tell me...”

Still giggling, you nodded. “It’s a prank. I paid with my card.”

He groaned and started the engine again, shaking his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack, mi vida.”

You wiped your eyes, still giggling. “I have to tell Charles about this. He’s going to love it.”

Carlos turned, deadpan. “Do not tell Charles. I swear, if that man starts calling me Gas Station Cuckold or something—”

“You’re being dramatic!”

“I’m being real!” he exclaimed. “That was emotional damage.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You love me.”

He sighed. “Way too much. And that’s exactly the problem.”

You laughed again as he muttered under his breath, pulling back onto the road. “Just know...this isn’t over. I’ve got something planned. Something evil.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirked.

He grinned. “Just wait till you wake up to find glitter in your shampoo.”

“CARLOS!”

“Love you!”

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Fernando Alonso

You and Fernando had only recently tied the knot — rings still shining, wedding playlists still stuck in your heads. The honeymoon? Cut short by his ever-demanding racing schedule. But to make up for it (and to keep his guilt in check), Fernando had surprised you with a follow-up getaway, your choice of destination. Romantic, thoughtful… and, as you decided, the perfect setting to prank your new husband.

The internet had become obsessed with your marriage — overnight, you'd gone from “regular girl with decent taste in sunglasses” to “Fernando Alonso’s wife who posts adorable reels.” So when fans started tagging you in prank challenges, you figured: why not give the people what they want?

Camera hidden. Kitchen smelling like garlic and glory. Tomatoes being sliced with intention. You were ready.

Fernando walked into the vacation home and immediately lit up. “Huele bien,” he smiled, shrugging off his jacket.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sliding the tomatoes into the pot. “Took me a minute to get it all, though. I accidentally brought the wrong card with me to the store.”

He frowned immediately, concerned. “You should’ve called me, mi amor. I would’ve paid—”

“No need. A very sweet guy at the store paid for me. Said he didn’t want a pretty girl like me to struggle.”

The air stilled. Fernando blinked. Once. Twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said slowly.

You kept stirring the pot, tone completely casual. “Yeah, he just insisted. Said it was no trouble. Even complimented my top. Super nice guy.”

Fernando was now planted in place like he’d just been hit with a yellow flag mid-race.

“So... some stranger,” he started, arms crossing, “paid for your groceries. Complimented you. And you just… thanked him and left?”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t say, ‘Oh, I’m married to Fernando Alonso, two-time world champion, racing legend, heartthrob since 2001’?”

You blinked innocently. “Didn’t think it was necessary.”

Fernando threw his hands up. “Necessary?! That ring I gave you is the size of a small island. It has its own timezone. You could signal planes with it.”

You bit back a grin as he kept spiraling. “And this guy? Just decided to be your white knight? At the produce section?! He sees you picking tomatoes and thinks, ‘Yes, this damsel needs saving’?”

You nodded, trying so hard not to laugh. “Pretty much.”

He started pacing. “No. No, no, no. See, I make you feel better when you’re down. I buy you things. I compliment you. I signed up for that role! This guy? He’s just freelancing emotional support. I should find him.”

You turned, finally pointing toward the fruit bowl hiding your phone. “Or... you could relax. Because you’ve been pranked.”

Fernando froze. “You’re joking.”

You just smiled.

He leaned in, spotting the camera, then groaned dramatically. “Oh my god. I gave a full speech. I even included my racing credentials.”

“And it was a very passionate monologue,” you teased.

He stared at you, narrowing his eyes. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe. But I’m your evil.”

He shook his head, muttering something in Spanish before pausing. “Also… be honest with me. Was I really hot in the early 2000s?”

Your head snapped up. “Fernando. You were unfairly hot in the 2000s. Like, ‘could’ve ruined my life if we’d met back then’ hot. The hair? The fire? The attitude? I would've fallen hard.”

He raised a brow, trying not to look too pleased. “Gracias, mi vida. Very sweet of you.”

Then he pointed at you, smug returning full force. “But don’t think flattery will save you. You will be pranked back. And when it happens? You’ll regret ever stirring that tomato sauce.”

You giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re dramatic.”

He smirked, grabbing a spoon and tasting the pasta. “I was adorable in the 2000s too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to post this entire thing.”

“I know,” he sighed.

“Just tag me in it — and put ‘Oscar-worthy performance’ in the caption.”

▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Okay hear me out. Batfamily, ugly Christmas sweater addition.

Bruce Wayne:

No doubt in my mind his children forced him into it. As soon as Dick mentioned wearing ugly sweaters on Christmas Day he found this monstrosity sitting in his closet. He chucked it out. He forgot about it. The next week it was back. He threw it out again. Two days passed. It was back. He tried shredding it, burning it, burying it in the backyard. It reappeared each time. Needless to say, it was still there on Christmas and he reluctantly wore it to the delight of everybody.

Jason Todd:

He wanted absolutely nothing to do with what Dick had planned… at first. Then he realised it was a great opportunity to piss Bruce off. Funny enough, it didn’t work as he hoped as Bruce was just happy he was there.

Tim Drake:

Wanted nothing to do with it and still wants nothing to do with it. Chose the first thing on the rack. Would’ve given Young Justice the chance to chose he sweater but he doesn’t trust them to NOT get him something horrendous.

Dick Grayson:

Planned this whole thing just to wear this monstrosity he found while doom scrolling on Instagram reels (he has adhd and is a millennial, he sure as hell isn’t on TikTok BUT dopamine go brrr). His siblings hate him. He loves it.

Damian Wayne:

This boy FOUGHT like one of those cats being forced into a costume. He clawed and begged and weaponised crying. Dick cackled at him until he had it on. He stayed on Dicks shoulders for the rest of the night. They did not talk for a month after.

He will stab anyone who brings it up.

Stephanie Brown:

Okay picture this in hot pink. She immediately locks onto some sort of meme when Dick mentions ugly sweaters. She finds this ugly ass sweater and steals Bruce’s credit card to get it.

Cassandra Cain:

Stephanie immediately calls Cass with plans. She happily agrees. She helps Steph steal Bruce’s credit card and proudly pulls Steph around to show the whole family their matching sweaters. A photo of them recreating the meme with their matching sweaters spreads around the web for at least a week.

Barbra Gordon:

Along with this sweater, Barbs places a USB stick containing a compilation of epic patrol failures in each of the Bat’s Christmas stockings. She wants to keep them on their toes (and adequately afraid of her). It is effective.

Duke Thomas:

Same vain as Steph. Instantly clocked in on memes and found this bad boy. Shows up with yellow temporary dye on his hair and old-lady sunglasses from the dollar store. Whenever he faces the slightest inconvenience he asks to speak to the manager. It becomes a bit where the manager changes each time and becomes crazier than the last.

Alfred Pennyworth:

Motherfucker would not wear a ugly sweater no matter how much the children begged. And the children did beg (Damian had to pull out the puppy dog eyes for this one). Jason was actually the fucker who made him cave pulling out all the stops, “it’s my first Christmas with everyone since I… you know.”, “it would be nice to have something special to remember it you know?”, “I remember my first Christmas in the manor. I just want to feel that happy again.”

Jason comes prepared with the sweater and Alfred knows he’s lost (but he doesn’t really seem to mind when he sees all the smiling faces on Christmas Day).

[hitomisuzuya]

yandere!hybrid scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. porn with a little plot. breeding kink. cunnilingus. masturbation. cream pie. degradation. scara in heat. aggressive/possessive behavior.

i just wanted to write about scara as a hybrid for a bit. don't mind this high nonsense. it turned out way long, oml, i'm sorry😭

you could never have cats growing up. so when the opportunity to take one in presented itself, you naturally took it. scaramouche was very weak, and very injured when you found him laying underneath a cardboard box in an alley.

you couldn't bear to leave him out in the cold, and freezing rain. scaramouche huddled further into the cardboard box, hissing when you crouched down to reach for him. he fought you the whole time, hissing, scratching and biting until you finally managed to wrestle him into your arms, wrapping your jacket around him and cradling him to your chest so he could get warm.

the whole time you were cooing to him soothingly. "shh, kitty, it's okay. we will get you inside, and fed. i promise. and get you feeling better." scaramouche was incredibly startled finding out your voice was soothing.

a few instances on the way home, he thought he almost fell asleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat. it made him focus a little less on the pain in his very injured leg, and pain from being weak and starving. fuck it, it would be an opportunity to rest indoors out of the cold, and get something to eat before he bailed on you the next day.

and he was going to find and fuck up that alley cat he got into a fight with. maybe he would come back to your house, yowling for food before he fled entirely.

scaramouche sure didn't know what to think about you. what the fuck was up with you? any normal person would've just dropped and abandoned him after he hissed and clawed at them, but not you. you took it all with a calm, patient smile. he decided he would fiercely test that patience.

humans weren't as good as they liked to think, in his humble opinion.

scaramouche watched you with narrow eyes as you flitted about the kitchen, looking in cabinets to see what you had for him to eat. "i'm afraid you'll have to forgive me kitty, i still have to go the grocery store this week. if you don't like anything i have, i'll go back out to the store, and see if i can't find you something."

so test you he did. he turned his nose up at tuna, some cubed chicken breasts with gravy on them (even it smelled super good, he thought), some roast beef.

he thought, this is it! he was going to turn out to be right. you would undoubtedly get frustrated and put him back out on the street. or so he thought.

nope, you just made him a soft little nest on the couch with some blankets and pillows. turned on the tv for him, and told him you would be back with some other stuff. that you would find what he wanted to eat, it wasn't a problem.

you even looked happy to be taking care of him. and why the hell were you starting to smell really good every time you walked by him. he waited, curled up warm in your little hand made nest, glancing away from the tv at the door every now and then.

back you came, your scent more magnified than before to him. you brought fish, varieties of tuna, some cat treats and cat nip. you'd even stopped by the deli and picked up different things. for him. you didn't bring home any dinner for yourself.

scaramouche supposed he would feel like an asshole if he refused all of it. you'd gone back out in the freezing rain and wind to get food for him, getting nothing for yourself. he decided he was only going to be half the trouble, accepting some chicken and gravy that tasted better than he anticipated.

after that, you treated his injured leg and read to him until he fell asleep. he opened his eyes the next morning to discover you hadn't slept until he did.

scaramouche was incredibly weak from his injury. so much so that he couldn't transform into his more human form to make recovery easier. and if he had it his way, you would never know about it. a few days and he would be gone.

or so he told himself. before he knew it, one day turned into two. two days turned into a week. he got stronger everyday. oh how you smiled and clapped when he stood up without limping. your smile was beautiful, he admitted.

you'd put up with him all this time. the healing scratches and bite marks on your arms and hands proved that. what was in it for you? nothing. everything you did was for him. he couldn't find one hint of an ulterior motive. you even seemed to purely enjoy his company.

scaramouche was really starting to hate whenever you left the house, especially when you couldn't take him with you. why did you need to leave? he knew you needed to go out for food and things, but it would be so much better if you took him with you. you seemed way too nice. it probably made you really naive.

you were naive enough not to realize he was actually a hybrid with a very human form, and a name. A name you were talking about him needing eventually. a very human form with very human needs. you were smelling better and better every day. he almost couldn't stand it sometimes. it was intoxicating.

he was starting to jump on your bed with you at night to sleep, moving a little closer to you every night. one morning, you found him curled up asleep on your chest, purring softly. he avoided you for hours after that happened, darting off hissing in embarrassment.

that wasn't the worst thing for him. a few mornings later, he'd unknowingly shifted in the middle of the night into his human form, waking up very naked with a very hard cock. his arms wrapped around you, tucking you possessively against him.

to your credit (and his amazement), you didn't scream or send him away. he supposed he should've expected that. you didn't even throw him out when he scratched up your curtains, tore a hole in one of the couch pillows, and knocked what he thought looked the most valuable vase off the table, completely shattering it.

"scaramouche," he grumbled, his ears flicking as he looked away in embarrassment. "scaramouche is what you can call me," he could barely look at you that day. he spent most of his time in his cat form, hiding under the bed, or lingering from a distance, watching you suspicious eyes. undoubtedly your true nature would come out. a strange boy had woken up next to you, naked and hard from good you smelled. how warm you felt.

you, with your soft hair that looks oh so pullable. you, with your pretty lips and fragile body he was pretty sure he could break in half. now that he thought about it, you seeing his human form was really the best thing. now he could leave the house with you, and protect you from all the horrible things that would jump out from around every corner and snatch you away.

snatch you away from him. he couldn't have that, no matter what. especially not when you accepted him so completely.

as much as scaramouche tried to swallow these feelings, he was abruptly forced to accept them one day. he walked into your room while you were changing. he saw every bare dip and curve of your breakable body, caught sight of your breasts reflected in the mirror. something snapped in him after that.

of course, he hid away from you after that. only coming out to kick up an angry fuss about you running an errand. he snapped at you when you asked if he wanted to come with you, refusing out of pride and embarrassment for walking in on you earlier.

he was forced to accept two things that day. he was going into heat. and he was consumed with thoughts of breeding you. breeding you so fucking full that there would be no question who you belonged to.

what the fuck had you done to him?

while you were gone, he spent that time writhing on your bed, fisting his cock to thoughts of impaling you on it. making you cry and claw at his back to cum inside you. even better for him that you were starting to become twice as shy around him, looking at him with a blush on your cheeks.

he scented all your clothes, rubbing on them and rolling around on them in his cat form. he rolled around on your sheets and pillows. and as for you, he scented you while you slept. this is what was best. if you smelled like him, no one would so much as dare to take you away from him.

you are his, damn it.

when scaramouche is in heat, he gets twice as possessive. he was incredibly suspicious and weary of anyone that approached or even looked at you, especially another male. if he thought there were too many people around, he insisted on taking different ways home to avoid them. he can and will snap at people if he felt they got too close.

especially when you let him get handsy with you in a moment of weakness one night. he pinned underneath him on the couch, grinding his straining cock between your legs while he pawed at your clothes. his teeth nipping at your lips and skin in between angry and frustrated kisses. you just smelled so fucking good he couldn't control himself. you moaned and mewled so sweetly underneath him.

it did happen one day. he didn't want you to go into the cafe to get your hot chocolate. he insisted on doing it for you, but in the end relented and let you go inside. everything was going smoothly until the barista asked you for your number. you didn't need someone's phone number to give them a cup of hot chocolate. this asshole didn't need your number.

you already had scaramouche. was he blind? that was what went through his head. he wanted to tear the barista's head off. he bet it would pop off so easy, like a bottle cap under too much pressure. if it wasn't for your voice pleading with him to calm down, he would've gotten physical with the barista.

anybody would've gotten fed up and exhausted by now. especially since he raised a further argument when you both were banned from ever coming back. he bartered down for you to be allowed back but not him, since you didn't do anything wrong. that you really liked the whipped cream on their hot chocolate.

scaramouche is the type of hybrid that you have to isolate with when he is in heat. that much was obvious. and that was what he needed the most right now. to be with you, and hide you away from the world, making sure nothing and nobody touched you while he was in heat.

he knew you were strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you.

after the incident at the cafe, scaramouche only completely calmed down when he was fucking his tongue into your cunt. "such a doting, delicate little thing, aren't you," he hissed, looking up at you from between your thighs. "it's going to be a pleasure breeding you," your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging on his ears in an intoxicating way as you pushed his mouth down onto your pussy.

his tongue swirled around your clit, groaning as you grinded on his mouth. he didn't know what was sweeter. the way you tasted or the way you moaned as he latched his lips around your clit.

how good it felt to finally sink his claw into his delicate little mate. you put up with him. cared for him. doted on and indulged him. you'd made him fall so in love, so much so that it was too late by the time he noticed.

now he was going to take care of you in the way you deserved.

and in the dizzying pleasure of cumming on his tongue, you didn't quite know what happened. but what you did know is that you were in love with him to. you didn't expect this cat you found injured to be the force of literal nature that was scaramouche. complete with cute ears. before you knew it, he'd pulled you right in, and you were happy to let him do it, in all the comforting weight of his dominance.

"i want to hear you scream it, slut," scaramouche moaned, his hands tightening on your hips possessively. he had the perfect view of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy from behind. your walls squeezed around his cock hearing him mock your moans as he bottomed out into your sweet spot over and over again. "babble about how badly you want to be bred."

your sopping cunt clutched tight and warm like a glove, your walls gummy and perfect. his eyes rolled into the back of his head how good you felt squeezing his cock.

"please, breed me. you feel so good inside me," you cried out, drool soaking the pillow under your cheek. he chuckled shakily behind you, you were always so eager to please him. even the way you shook, creaming hard on his cock was an intoxicating sight to behold.

a truly delicate gift for him to break.

the harder he made you cum, the more you begged him to fuck you full of cum. "cock drunk whore," scaramouche moaned, his thrusts turning sloppy as his cock pulsed cum inside of you. he doubted you could hear his soft whimpers of bliss over your own, which were much louder.

[halfway-happyyy]

home to you {jack abbot}

synopsis: it takes a traumatic event for doctor jack abbot to realize he's through being casual about his next-door neighbour.

no warnings, straight fluff, scattered use of the nickname kid. this is the direct result of thirsting over this HOT old man for the past month.

“I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” 

Jack Abbot had breathed life into those words with his lips pressed against your neck, their vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up the length of your spine, and to what felt like every nerve ending in your body. His hands, and the extraordinarily skilled fingers that belonged to them, roamed every inch of skin you could spare, and the neural pathways that sent signals to your brain to speak were absolutely not firing on all cylinders, because it took you a ridiculous amount of time to murmur, “well that makes two of us then, because neither am I.” 

And yet, while neither of you were actively looking for anything serious, the right side of your bed remained occupied by the weight of his body most mornings.

He held his cards incredibly close to his chest, and most of what you knew about him (which still wasn’t much) was information he had dropped for you like breadcrumbs. He’d been married; and though his wife had fought bravely, she succumbed to the disease which had ravaged her in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. He had done two tours with the military, which had done nothing for him, except to permanently part him from his right leg and to leave him with an intense desire to work in emergency medicine. He was a creature of the night in every sense of the word and had jumped at the chance to take a position as the night shift attending physician at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. This meant that at seven in the morning, when you were debating about getting up and ready for work, he would just be coming off of the night shift. 

When you considered the way in which you first crossed paths with him, you still cringed. Over a year ago, you’d been battling a persistent craving for oatmeal raisin cookies. You had everything set out to make them minus the cup and a half of white sugar needed, and was at a loss for what to do considering the early morning hour. Enter your mysterious, hardly-ever-seen next-door neighbour. You had heard the sound of his key turning in the lock and waited a couple of minutes before plucking up the courage to go over and knock on his door. You doubted you’d ever forget the first time you really got a good look at him. He, in his navy, blood-spattered scrubs, and the black stethoscope still around his neck. His salt and pepper hair which still held traces of its original copper, and the five o’clock shadow that stubbled his devastatingly handsome face. 

“I’m so sorry to bother - I would have asked 708 but she’s on holiday at the moment and I really just need a cup of sugar if you can spare it.” 

He’d cocked his head to the side, mild confusion giving way to mild amusement. 

“Sugar?” He’d rasped.

You nodded. “I’m making cookies and I just ran out. The store doesn’t open for another hour and a half.” 

“What kind of cookies?” 

You’d felt the blush seep into your cheeks before you murmured oatmeal raisin. 

He nodded approvingly. “I can spot you the sugar, if you promise to save me a couple of cookies.” 

“Yeah, I think I can manage that.” You’d grinned. 

“We’ve got ourselves a deal then. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

And, the rest was history. 

Jack had exited the elevator just as you were locking up. He propped himself against his door for support and offered you a small, tired smile. 

“Rough night?” you asked, despite the fact that you could tell just by looking at him that his shift had been a brutal one. 

He nodded. “Lost a vet last night.” 

Oh.

He rid the emotion from his throat with a short cough. “Not a single scratch the entire time he'd been over there, and a drunk driver nails him.” 

Your heart sank. 

“I'm so sorry, Jack.” 

He offered you another sad, fleeting smile and shrugged a shoulder. “That's the job, right?” 

“What are you going to do now?” You asked.

He released a breath of warm, pent-up air and shook his head. “Try and sleep. I've got an appointment with Carson in a couple of hours, which I'm looking forward to.” 

The silence lingered on a little while longer before he asked you what your plans for the day were. 

“I’m waiting to hear back from a friend if she needs me to go to Pittfest with her or not.” 

He lifted his eyebrows. “Fun.” 

“Maybe,” you laughed. “But being surrounded by a bunch of drunk, loud, barely legal people isn't exactly my idea of a great time.” 

“That’s fair,” he breathed. “But take care of yourself if you do end up going, yeah? You’d be amazed at how fast dehydration can set in.” 

“Alright, Doc. I'll watch out.” 

He fished his keys from his pocket and turned back to you. Whatever he wanted to stay was still lodged in his throat, as if he were mulling over whether he should say it or not. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? Before my shift starts? That is - if you're not slummin’ it with the barely legals all day?” 

You couldn't help the smile that bloomed on your face. 

“Yeah, Jack. I'd like that.” 

He grinned down at the ground before turning back to you and nodding his head. “Alright. I’ll see ya then, kid. Take care.” 

“Yeah, you too, Jack.” 

~

You woke with a start to the incessant sound of your phone ringing and a slick sheen of perspiration covering every square inch of your body. You glanced at the clock beside your bed and cursed the glowing red digits. 4:15 pm. Not much time to get ready before you had to meet up with Jack. You reached for your phone and gasped when you saw the number of missed calls you’d had from him. Taking a deep breath, you pressed his name and leaned back against your headboard for support. 

He picked up on the first ring. 

“Jesus kid, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the last half an hour. Where are you? Are you okay? Are you safe?” 

His tone was thick with worry and entirely foreign to you, and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. 

“I’m fine, Jack. I’m fine. I’m at home, I just woke up from a nap.” 

He hesitated a beat before rasping, “you didn’t end up going to Pittfest?” 

You shook your head. “No, Maggie found a more enthusiastic partner to go with her.” 

You heard his audible sigh of relief even over the crackling static. 

“Oh, thank god.” 

Swallowing hard, you finally managed to ask him what on earth was going on. 

“There’s an active shooter at the festival. I’m headed back to the hospital to help. Please, please stay home. Don’t leave for anything,” You were too stunned to speak. “I gotta go, kid. Promise me you’ll stay where you are.” 

“Of course, Jack. I promise.”

You’d given up on watching any news about the festival an hour in, the anxiety too much to bear. Maggie had contacted you around six to let you know that she and the person she’d gone with were both safe and back at her house, which was an immediate weight off of your shoulders. To keep your thoughts from turning to Jack, and how his colleagues were faring, you hunkered down in bed with a book you’d been in the middle of for ages. It did not help. Nothing seemed to scratch the surface of your mounting dread, and so for the second time that day, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep. 

When you woke a while later, the sunshine that had been so prevalent before you’d drifted off had vanished entirely, giving way to an inky darkness. It was nine-fifteen PM, and you’d received a single text message from Jack from half an hour before that simply read - on my way home. Your shoulders dropped and you released a breath of air that felt like you’d been holding since the moment you spoke to him on the phone. It didn’t matter if you were up for the rest of the night now, all that mattered was that Jack was alright, and that he was coming home. 

You wandered out into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and as you stood at the stove and waited for your kettle to boil, a knock at your door shook you from your reverie. 

You weren't entirely surprised to find Jack on the other side, and you let him in wordlessly.

Once inside your front hallway, he dropped back against the wall for support and took a long, tight breath. 

“You scared the shit out of me today, kid.” 

In the low, warm light provided by the lamp in your hallway, you could see the blood that spattered his scrubs. The crimson drops that had landed on his shoes, and God only knew where else. 

“I know,” you breathed. “I'm sorry.” 

He hoisted the cammo backpack from his shoulders, cleared his throat, and asked if he could get cleaned up here. There were layers to the question that remained unspoken - can I get cleaned up here because my apartment is so quiet, and so lonely that I can barely stand it. That I've been surrounded by calamity all day and all I need is just a few quiet hours with you. 

“‘Course you can, Jack. There are fresh towels in the cabinet beside the washroom.” 

He emerged a little while later, naked entirely except for a pair of black boxer-briefs. As he stood in the doorway of your bedroom, you watched in unconcealed awe as the water droplets he hadn't managed to towel off raced each other down the smooth planes of his freckled chest. 

“Do you require a formal invitation?” you quipped. 

Jack shook his head wordlessly, and pushed himself from the doorframe to join you. He sat perched on the edge of the bed, removed his prosthetic, and swung himself in beside you. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered, once the dust had settled. 

You turned to face him then, and in the sliver of pale orange light from the crack of the door, you could make out every freckle on his face. Every smile line (there were so many), and every miniscule scar was on spectacular display for you; a frontrow seat to the worlds most wondrous man. In the year that you two had spent dancing around your feelings for one another, you had grown so fond of his face, and of the strong, sure hands that spent so much time repairing, and helping people.

“Yeah, Jack. This is okay.” 

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered.

You swallowed hard. “Yes.” 

“Today made me realize that I have absolutely no interest in being casual about you anymore.” 

Oh, shit.

“There was a period of about five seconds today where I let my thoughts travel to the absolute worst scenario where you were concerned, and to put it plainly- I couldn’t bear it.” He cleared his throat. “And if I’ve learned anything in the past eight years, it’s that I have to be transparent with the people I care about because life is so fucking short.” 

It occured to you that this might all be coming from a place of adrenaline and fear. And while you wanted nothing more than to be with him, you dreaded the possibility of him making a mistake or rushing into anything because of that.

“Jack, I need you to know that this is all okay - that if this is all only ever what it’s going to be between us, I can handle it.” You reached toward him to trace a fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “I know how I feel about you, and if this is all that you’re capable of sparing right now, I'll still happily take it.” 

He shook his head. 

“In the year that you and I have known each other, you’ve never asked for more. You’ve never waivered under the insane hours, or the emotional baggage a guy like me tends to accumulate, and you deserve more.” He reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, deliberately brushing each knuckle. “I want to give you more.” 

“Okay, Jack.” 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Okay?” 

You nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“You’ve laid it all out on the line for me, and I want it, I want you.” 

And as you watched a slow, sleepy smile tug the edges of lips skyward, happiness warmed inside of you like sunshine through a stained glass window.

[bowtiepasta]

SFW 𑣿 GOJO, GETO, SHOKO: “SOMEONE NEW”

nothing complicated i just miss sashisu like a mfer and needed a childhood friend to college pipeline with them. this healed something in me (cw: not separate pairings, language, some angst, drinking, modern au, f/afab!reader with she pronouns, flirty)

you first kiss satoru on a soccer field when you are ten, grass littered uniforms and scraped knees disregarded by the scowls on both your faces — one due to his third penalty in this match, yours due to the drink he just dumped out of your hand (and.. the fact that he kissed you in the bleachers in front of the entire school, as the ball flies into the outfield). total accident, he claims.

you first kiss suguru as a thank you for tutoring you through midterms the spring of your second year, in the janitor’s closet while nanami gets dresscoded on the other side of the door. you end up making out till the bell rings, wait for the halls to be empty to leave. caught up in the moment, he says.

you first kiss shoko at her doorstep a day before graduation, both completely shitfaced after utahime fake id-ed two cases of vodka cranberry and had to finish it before her parents got home. she nearly is expelled the next morning, manages to dodge it somehow. shoko ‘doesn’t remember’ one bit.

you haven’t talked to any of them since you drove away from the ceremony, gown and cap sat quietly on the dash of your car, acceptance letter folded in the glove box. you haven’t kissed anyone this year.

it’s not like you haven’t tried dating. blind dates, dates that picked you up at bars, dates that sparked messy roommate situations. and yet.. you didn’t kiss any of them. or anything else, for that matter.

has it really been that long?

when satoru finds out you all live in the same dormitory this year, he adds you to a groupchat and drops the address to a new dive bar down the block. all of them are convinced, except you.

you leave them on read.

it’s not like you don’t want to go. the idea of seeing them again makes your fingers twitch against your phone screen, hovering over the buttons, rereading the stupid little salute emoji satoru sent in. suguru thumbs-upped the text. shoko left it on delivered, though you know she’ll probably show up anyway.

you don’t reply. you’re busy. you’ve outgrown whatever this was, and you’re a different person now. when you drove away from that ceremony without saying goodbye, you did it on purpose.

..right? right.

so you go to bed early, phone facedown, volume off.

the next morning, there’s a photo in the chat: a blurry, overexposed mess of neon lights and moving figures, captioned you were supposed to be here, loser. satoru, obviously. you ignore it.

then comes another. this time from suguru. a selfie. well, almost. more like half of his face and most of shoko’s, her head thrown back laughing. he’s smirking at the camera, holding up a drink, the words we ordered you one anyway typed underneath.

you hate how easy it is for them to pick up where they left off. how the years apart don’t seem to mean anything to them.

you chalk it up to fomo, but really, you miss them.

the groupchat lies dormant for a while. the first time you run into one of them in person, it’s not satoru. it’s not suguru, either.

two days later, at the corner store down the street.

she spots you before you see her. your name slips out of her mouth like a habit, before she can stop it.

“avoiding me?”

you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, letting the cold plastic bite into your palm. “I’m busy,” you say, because it’s easier than the truth.

shoko hums like she doesn’t quite believe you, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the shelf. she looks the same. a little older, a little sharper around the edges, but still so unexplainably her.

the same girl who used to steal sips from your drinks when you weren’t looking, who let you sleep on her floor when you fought with your parents, who kissed you once and never mentioned it again.

“we’re going out again this weekend,” she says, tucking the cigarettes into her left pocket. “if you don’t show, satoru’s gonna start getting.. creative.”

you raise an eyebrow. “creative?”

shoko smirks as her receipt prints. “he has your number. the real one, not the one you muted us on.”

your stomach sinks.

“see you there,” she walks off before you can argue.

you spend the next few days pretending you’re not thinking about it.

which is stupid, of course you are. you think about it while you’re in class, rereading the same paragraph in your textbook without absorbing a single word. you think about it when you’re cooking dinner, zoning out so hard that the pasta overboils and hisses against the stove, licks at the countertop.

then comes saturday night, right as you’re about to convince yourself for real that you aren’t going-

satoru calls you.

not a text. not a meme in the group. a full fledged, obnoxious phone call.

you hesitate before answering. which, in hindsight, is your first mistake. your second is actually picking up.

“hiii, stranger.” his voice is syrupy sweet, every syllable stretched out, “you know, if you were gonna go witness protection on us, you could’ve at least left a goodbye letter.”

you pinching the bridge of your nose. “satoru-”

“don’t ‘satoru’ me. do you have any idea how tragic it was last time? suguru had to drink your cocktail for you. he was fucking devastated.”

you hear a low, amused hum in the background.

“I was fine.”

“no, he wasn’t,” satoru continues. “he stared into space all night. contemplated existence. it was dark.”

there’s a muffled sound, like someone smacking him in the arm. shoko, you’re guessing.

you exhale, dragging a hand down your face. it’s annoying — it is — because it’s unfair. it’s unfair that they can just pick up where they left off while you’re still stuck at a finish line, pretending you can’t.

and maybe that’s why, instead of hanging up, you say, “where is this place?”

satoru gasps like you’ve just confessed your undying love to him. “ohhh, now you’re interested?”

“I didn’t say I was coming,” you argue, but you can already hear the grin in his voice.

“sure, sure,” he says. “texting you the address now. see you soon, sweetheart.”

he hangs up before you can protest. your phone buzzes a second later.

the final straw is a venmo request.

$5 for your absence. we took a vote.

you 9:58 PM: i hate all of you suguru 9:58 PM: so you’ll be there? you 10:00 PM: maybe suguru 10:00 PM: that’s not a nooo

you cave.

you arrive twenty minutes late, hoping the extra time will take the edge off. it doesn’t.

the bar is exactly what you expect — sticky tables, health violations, music that tells you to stay away (nickelback). you spot them immediately, because.. well. some things don’t change.

you hover in the doorway longer than you should, debating leaving, until satoru glances up.

his grin is blinding. “holy shit.”

three pairs of eyes snap to you.

you exhale through your nose. too late now.

satoru waves you over like you’re a lost dog. “get over here, exile. thought we’d need a search party.”

you roll your eyes but make your way to the table, slipping into the seat next to shoko.

“hilarious,” you deadpan, the words coming out lighter than you mean them to.

suguru pushes a drink toward you. “pre-ordered.”

a wrinkle forms between your brows. “what is it?”

“who cares?” shoko scoffs. “just drink.”

you hesitate for half a second. then you grab the glass.

satoru’s grin widens. “that’s my girl.”

you pretend the warmth in your chest is just the alcohol. it burns in your throat, but in the way that reminds you of being sixteen and reckless: bad decisions made on good nights.

“you look good,” suguru says, studying you.

you don’t know how to answer that, so you just shrug. “not so bad yourself.”

“obviously,” satoru interjects, stretching his arms over the back of the booth, effectively trapping you and shoko in. “we age like fine wine.”

shoko exhales smoke directly into his face. he doesn’t flinch.

“you’re a nuisance,” she says.

“you love me,” he counters.

you should feel out of place. you should feel like an outsider looking in, like some unwelcome visitor. it’s been years. yet.. the moment you sat down, every available inch of space is by default, the way it should be. almost like you never left.

“so,” satoru drawls, drumming his fingers against the table. “what’s the deal? you hate us now?”

you blink. “what?”

“you vanished after graduation.” he says it simply, a fact, a puzzle piece he’s been turning over in his hands for years. “I mean, I get it. I’d leave them too if I had the choice.” he gestures towards the other two. “but me?” he gawks. “rude.”

suguru huffs a laugh. “speak for yourself.”

you pick at the rim of your glass, salt flaking between your pointer and thumb. “I didn’t ..vanish.”

“no? then what would you call it?”

you swallow. the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t know how to say them. that after the ceremony, after all the hugs and the drunken promises to stay in touch, you sat in your car for an hour and felt nothing. that leaving wasn’t some big, dramatic decision — it just happened.

a door closing. a chapter ending.

satoru is looking at you, suguru is watching, shoko is waiting, and suddenly, you don’t want to say anything at all.

“I wanted a new start,” you lie instead, but no one calls you out on it.

satoru somehow lets it go. “well. you’re here now.”

and just like that, the moment passes. the conversation shifts, and so does the night.

shoko orders another round. suguru leans in, asks about your job, your apartment, the details of your life that they’ve missed. satoru interrupts every three minutes with commentary, and by the time you’re halfway through your second drink, you’re laughing, really laughing, and you realize, with a strange sort of ache, that you haven’t in a long time.

it’s late when you finally leave. satoru slings an arm over your shoulder like he’s been doing it every day for the past four years, and you don’t push him off.

“don’t be a stranger this time,” suguru calls out before heading off in the opposite direction.

shoko kisses your cheek. “welcome back.”

you don’t respond. but as you make your way home, satoru’s warmth still lingering against your skin, you think maybe this time — you’ll stay.

satoru 3:04 AM: since we’re all back together now satoru 3:04 AM: should we address the elephant in the room? shoko 3:10 AM: tf are you on satoru 3:11 AM: you know. how we’ve all kissed her

© bowtiepasta: do not copy edit or repost anywhere

[dykeadvocate]

Hard Drive [Ellabs]

Pairing: Ellabs x Afab!Reader

Summary: You have the hard drive that Ellie wants and she'll give you a chase, a quick fuck, and then take it from you.

Content: Dom!Abby, switch!Ellie, sub!reader, dark themes, dubcon, scissoring, ellabs chasing reader, being shot at, face slapping, spitting, deepthroating a gun, crying, begging, degradation.

Your breathing was rugged and your body ached for a rest. As you turned each corner, your sneakers squeaked against the floor, alerting her of your exact location.

Of course, your shoes had to start suddenly squeaking now. Just your luck.

The hard drive that you had worked so hard to retrieve was stored in your pocket. Apparently, whatever was on it could bring your organisation down. You needed to get it back to base, but first, you had to deal with the little issue.

You knew Ellie was still chasing you. You could hear her loud footsteps not far behind. Maybe if you weren't so focused on escaping, you would have wondered why the usually silent assassin's footsteps sounded like African elephants.

You continued into the abandoned warehouse facility, looking for an exit. As much as you loved playing this cat-and-mouse game with Ellie, this hard drive was too important to risk losing. You see an open window—a perfect exit.

A bullet whizzed past your head and you duck behind a large wooden box, unholstering your gun and holding it close to your body.

"Are you fucking serious, Ellie?" A female voice hissed.

You frowned. The voice was unfamiliar but was the least of your worries. You thought Ellie was the only person here. Is this place surrounded or did they send two people instead of just Ellie?

"Quit acting like you've never missed a shot before," Ellie snapped.

The warehouse fell into silence and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. You hated this about Ellie. Her silence unnerved you.

You couldn't wait for them to strike first. You ran towards the window, gasping as another bullet whizzed past you. You managed to get 5 feet from the window before you were tackled to the ground, your gun knocked from your hand.

"Slippery today, aren't you?" Ellie grunted as she held your arms down.

A woman appeared at Ellie's side. She was tall, blonde, and muscular.

"Couldn't handle me yourself?" you fought in her grasp "Needed backup?"

Ellie rolled her eyes. "You know damn well I can take you down. I wanted to show Abby how pathetic you are."

"You can't even shoot a moving target,"

That made the blonde woman, Abby, laugh.

You groaned as Ellie slammed you into the floor. Her eyes darkened and her tone switched from playful to serious. "Don't piss me off. Give me the hard drive, let us have some fun, and then we will let you go."

You responded by spitting in her face.

The slap was more painful than usual. She wasn't playing around. Whoever this Abby person was, impressing her meant a lot to Ellie.

Ellie reached into your pocket, pulled out the hard drive and passed it to Abby. With a small fight, she managed to tug your pants and underwear down, leaving your pussy on display. She dragged two fingers through your slick and showed them to Abby, "See? A slut for the chase."

Heat rose to your cheeks and you looked away. Abby crouched next to you and tipped your face to hers with the tip of her gun. Like Ellie, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Abby tsked as you looked away from her, "Keep your eyes on mine."

Normally, you would've fought someone for saying that. But she held a gun to your face and it'd be pretty fucking stupid to do so.

You heard the round of clothes shedding and Ellie spread your thighs. A sigh left her lips as she straddled your cunt and started to rock her hips. You held back a moan, not wanting to give them the satisfaction.

"Gone all quiet on us, huh?" Abby smacked the gun against your cheek lightly with a smirk.

Ellie's words came out in a guttered moan. "Give it a sec,"

It was like those words were your trigger words. Her clit rubbed against yours perfectly, making you moan and your legs quiver. You whimpered when she started to slow down, a telltale sign she was getting close.

"You've been rutting on them for what, 3 minutes, and you're already close? Are you sure they're the pathetic one here?" Abby snickered. She looked over at Ellie as she spoke but her eyes quickly fell back to yours, holding the eye contact that gave you butterflies.

Ellie's brows furrowed and she bit her lip, her hips picking up speed again. You fought against Ellie's hold again, trying to free your hands from her grasp so you could grab her hips but she snarled, "Don't fucking fight me."

Abby tapped the tip of her gun against your lips and you didn't hesitate to open your mouth. She slid the gun down your throat until you started to gag and with an evil smirk, she kept the gun there until your face was stained with tears and you were begging for air. She wiped her spit-stained gun on your shirt, muttering about how filthy you are.

The familiar feeling of your orgasm started to rise and you let out a cry, "Please, Ellie."

You were surprised Ellie hadn't come yet. She was holding herself back but you knew she was close to faltering. Her thrusts were sloppy and her moans turned into grunts. Ellie looked at Abby expectantly.

"You both can cum,"

Your orgasm washed over you, making your back arch and eyes roll to the back of your head. Ellie's grip on your arms loosened as she came, and you were able to grab her hair and pull her into a kiss. She moaned into your mouth.

Ellie pulled back and grinned at Abby. "Your turn?"

Abby huffed. "We're short on time, Williams."

Ellie groaned. You cupped her face and gave her a soft kiss, "I miss you."

She smiled. "I miss you too, baby."

Ellie climbed off your body and you took this chance to pull Abby into a heated kiss. Whilst both of the women were distracted by the kiss, you reached into her pocket, silently cheering.

"Next time?" Ellie asked.

"Next time," Abby confirmed as you pulled away.

As the women started to walk away, you looked at the hard drive safety in your hand.

"What fuckin' idiots," you laughed to yourself and climbed through the window. They were gonna be pissed once they realised.

[3amfanfiction]

What is your favorite trope woth each CoD guy?

I love favorite tropes. Okay so starting off strong we have:

John Price who I love to see in the exhusband role (the one where everything works out in the end ofc). Give me a John who fought but conceded when you insisted on a divorce. Irreconcilable differences.

But you wouldn't be able to tell from the outside looking in because he doesn't change his actions at all. Still does the yardwork for you every weekend, goes to the grocery store and stocks your fridge, you'd better not leave out a to-do list that you're meaning to get to bc that man will see it sitting on the counter and take it as orders.

And heaven help you if you come home stressed and anxious and he happens to be there (you've taken his key three times, how does he keep getting in?) bc he's pulling you to the bedroom and proceeding to work every bit of stress out of your system enthusiastically. You're going to be a wobbly-kneed foal by the time he's done with you.

And then we have Kyle Garrick who I love to read in the 'everything he's saying could be true but he could also be spinning it to keep you from acting out'. This is a little darker but I love when reader is kidnapped/forcefully relocated through extenuating circumstances and the reasoning he gives could technically be true. But it could also be a line, used to keep you manageable.

Bc he's so pretty and he's so well spoken that surely he wouldn't lie to you. And what he's saying makes so much sense, how could it not be true? All the while he's facilitating things that corroborate his story, pulling you in deeper and deeper until you don't even think of running away anymore.

Johnny MacTavish? Breeding kink breeding kink breeding kink. That man was raised catholic and he wants his own house filled with the pitter-patter of tiny feet. He wants chaos in his home and he's not above a little stealthing to make sure it happens. Give me a man who wants (fictional) babies with me so badly that he would do anything to see it through.

And finally Simon Riley who I'm unafraid to say is my favorite and who I love in any role he plays. But my favorite is when he's half of a ghoap pairing, being so good-naturedly dominant and letting Soap have his lead, running around and getting in trouble while he follows behind and glares at anyone who might upset his boy.

And then Johnny does something silly like kidnapping you and bringing you home as a present (after he spends a little one-on-one time with you first ofc). Then here comes this mountain of a man, looking at poor little kidnapped you, all teary-eyed and pleading and Johnny--grinning like a cat that caught the canary. Proudly showing off his new toy.

Simon who takes it all in with a slow blink before slotting you into their lives like you'd always been there, no you can't leave pet, this is your home now.

[sevsevteen]

Back then, you were a little gremlin in oversized sweatpants and way too much attitude for someone barely of age.

“Yah!” Seungcheol’s voice bellowed from the hallway, the third time that day. “This is your third missed practice this week - are you serious right now?!”

You rolled your eyes, lazily pulling your hoodie over your head. “I wasn’t missing practice,” you muttered under your breath. “I had something to do after school.”

“You were at the convenience store eating instant noodles!” Jihoon called out from the studio entrance, holding up a half-empty cup you'd left behind.

“Still counts,” you huffed, slinking back into the room, zero shame in your posture as you plopped onto the floor gracefully, as if your ear hadn't tore your ears off right before.

The older members groaned in unison.

“You’re going to give Seungcheol grey hair before debut,” Jeonghan muttered, massaging his temples.

“Me?” You gasped. “I’m helping him pre-age.”

When the manager returned from a meeting later that afternoon and asked how rehearsals were going, you gave him a thumbs up and said, “Teamwork makes the dream work!”

Behind you, Seungcheol visibly mouthed, Help me.

It was later that night that you snuck out your room past lights-out timing, crawling across the floor in full spy mode, and dumping a full bag of glitter into the shared shampoo bottle.

“Why is my head SPARKLING?” Seokmin screeched the next morning, towel around his neck, hair dripping with disco ball residue.

Joshua squinted at him. “You look like you fought a unicorn in the shower.”

Soonyoung turned to you, who sat cross-legged on the floor, chewing gum with feigned innocence.

“Why are you looking at me? You have no evidence.”

Joshua? Had his toothpaste swapped with wasabi paste a week later.

One night, they found you hiding in the supply closet, mid-text to Jun about “fake stomach cramps” because you refused to do conditioning.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said from the doorway, arms crossed.

“...I have an allergy,” you deadpanned.

“To what?”

“Authority.”

.

And yet - despite the chaos, the late-night lectures, the silent treatment from a furious Jun once because you sabotaged his water bottle with vinegar, they never pushed you away.

Until it did.

Perhaps your true villain arc peaked then. Because you swore it had started out like every other prank, every other dumb teen instinct to feel untouchable. The world felt like a sandbox you could dig into without consequence.

So when your old school friends dared you to skip training again and “do something fun for once,” you didn’t hesitate. You pulled a mask over your face, hoodie up, and snuck off into the city night like the chaos incarnate you believed yourself to be.

You held cans of spray paint. Loud music in one pocket, cheap energy drinks in the other. Somewhere in a quiet alleyway, far from the agency’s radar, the group of you left trails of color behind - tagging walls, drawing dumb phrases in neon, laughing into the silence like you were invincible.

You didn’t even think about who those walls belonged to.

Not until the police sirens flashed behind you.

Your heart dropped. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore.

The cuffs were cold on your wrists. The alley that once felt like a playground now closed in on you like a trap. You kept your head low when the officers called the company.

Kept it lower when you saw Seungcheol walk into the station lobby.

He didn’t speak to you at first. Just signed the papers. Took a deep breath. Thanked the officers. And then turned to you, eyes unreadable.

The ride back was silent.

Not angry.

Not disappointed.

Just…hollow.

That was worse.

.

You sat in the bedroom alone after you returned, guilt eating you from the inside out. Everyone else had heard by now, and Seungcheol still refused to hold a conversation with you. The dorm was quiet. Like even the air was careful around you.

When Jeonghan finally came in, he didn’t yell. He didn’t joke. He just sat beside you, looked at your red-rimmed eyes, and said softly:

“You could’ve been in real danger, you know. Seungcheol and Jihoon's talking to the company about your expulsion right now.”

“I didn’t think,” you whispered. “I just…didn’t think anyone cared what I did.”

His voice cracked, low and pained.

“We all care.”

You looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

.

You trained harder after that.

Not to prove yourself.

Not to repent.

But because you wanted to be someone they didn’t have to worry about.

Someone they could trust again.

There were tough days. Days you didn’t listen. Days you walked out of the room mid-discussion, frustrated with rules and pressure and all the weight of growing up under a spotlight.

But behind every scolding, every punishment, was a member gently slipping a snack into your hoodie pocket. A word of advice muttered when the cameras weren’t rolling. A hand patting you on the back when you sat alone on the practice room floor after being yelled at.

And slowly, with every sincere action, with every practice where you pushed yourself till your limbs ached – you grew up.

You never touched a can of paint again.

And slowly, that rebellious flame? Learned to burn brighter in the right direction.

.

And years later, Mingyu bought you a canvas and a paintbrush on your birthday with a cheeky smile - “For artistic purposes only, I promise” - you laughed so hard you cried.

--

[pixiexdusts-world]

Trust me

Thanos x reader

Summary: A shy girl finds safety in Thanos, a reckless but protective survivor.

Word count: 770

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I never thought I’d end up here—with him.

Thanos wasn’t the kind of person I usually gravitated toward. He was loud, confident, and unpredictable, while I was… well, me. Shy. Awkward. The kind of person who second-guessed every word before speaking, who blushed at the slightest attention. He was the kind of guy people either admired or feared. And yet, somehow, he had chosen me.

I met him before Squid Game, before everything fell apart. Back when he was just a man with a reputation too big for any room he walked into. I had been working part-time at a record store, hiding behind the counter, quietly existing, when he walked in one night.

“You got any old-school hip-hop?” he had asked, tapping his fingers against the counter in an impatient rhythm.

I had barely managed to stammer out a response before he smirked. “Why you so nervous?”

I hadn’t known how to answer. But for some reason, he had kept coming back, every week, teasing me, pushing past my awkwardness until I had gotten used to him.

And then life happened. Bad decisions. Wrong people. The kind of trouble that swallowed you whole before you even realized you’d stepped into it. That’s how we ended up here.

The first night in the Squid Game, I kept to myself, hugging my knees in the corner while the others talked in hushed voices. Thanos, on the other hand, was already making himself known—loud, reckless, unbothered by the fear in the air. I should have been annoyed. Maybe even a little afraid. But when he found me sitting alone, his expression softened in a way I wasn’t used to seeing.

“You okay?” he asked, crouching in front of me.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it was true.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he said, lowering his voice like it was meant just for me. “Not as long as I’m here.”

I wanted to believe him. But this wasn’t some rap battle, some night out where he could bluff his way through danger with a cocky grin. This was real. Life or death.

Still, when he sat beside me, closer than necessary, I didn’t move away.

The days blurred together, each game a crueler nightmare than the last. I wasn’t built for this. I was too quiet, too soft, too used to fading into the background. But Thanos never let me disappear.

He stood in front of me when tensions ran high, when fights broke out over food. He made sure I ate, even when he barely touched his own meal. And when I flinched at the sound of a gunshot, he grabbed my wrist, holding it just tight enough to ground me.

“Hey,” he murmured, “look at me.”

I did.

“You’re still here,” he reminded me. “And as long as you’re here, you fight.”

I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t like him, that I didn’t know how to be fearless. But when I looked into his eyes, I realized something—he wasn’t fearless either. He just knew how to hide it.

One night, when the lights flickered and the dormitory became a battlefield, I felt panic creeping in. The sounds of screams and fists colliding filled the air, and I knew I was too weak to fight.

But then there was him.

Thanos grabbed my hand, pulling me into the shadows before anyone could reach me. He pressed me against the wall, shielding me with his body as chaos unfolded around us.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice rough but steady.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t deserve his protection. That he should be watching out for himself, not wasting his time on me. But all I could do was nod, gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline.

As he fought off anyone who got too close, I realized something.

He wasn’t the man people thought he was. He wasn’t just reckless. He wasn’t just trouble.

He was the only person in this place who made me feel safe.

“Why do you care so much?” I asked one night, when the world had quieted again.

He looked at me like the answer was obvious.

“Because you make me feel human.”

And in that moment, despite the nightmare surrounding us, I believed him.

[neeeooon]

Hii how are you? Hope everything is well! I saw that you wrote for wind breaker, and I loved you even more! If it wouldn't be much trouble, can you do suo x reader who is Sakura's twin like that recent post? Where at first he was flirting with the reader to mess w her and Sakura but found himself falling in love? Please and thank you!

suo 🥰 cute okay YES i’m on it TYSM

not a good idea

suo hayato x fem!reader who is sakura’s twin sister. veryy suggestive at the end

suo hummed too suspiciously, too sweetly, as he tapped his chin and stared at you. “y/n looks a little cold. doesn’t she, sakura?”

your brother’s eyebrow twitched as suo removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. your face flared on its own account, causing you to look away from them both.

you knew that suo was only flirting with you to tease you and your brother, especially since he openly admitted to getting some sick kick out of your matching flustered expressions, but that didn’t make it easier for you. anytime he was around, your face would instantly heat up at the thought of his “innocent” smiles and flirts. he had you conditioned like a dog.

you worked part-time at an old books and music store near sakura and suo’s high school, and they’d always stop by to see you since your classes ended before theirs. when the bell rang above the door at the normal time, though, you were surprised to see only suo there.

he flashed his signature smile, as suspicious and sweet as always, and waved his fingers at you. “good afternoon, y/n.”

tilting your attention to the bottom shelf, you hummed a reply and pretended to count records. you knew suo was approaching by the length of his shadow against your desk, and did your best to will all the extra blood out of your face.

suo leaned forward, and you froze when you looked up to find him mere inches away from you. you swallowed. “can i help you?”

his head tipped ever so slightly to the side, earrings shifting against his neck. “do you have any books on chinese poetry?”

you met his eyes then and saw a flicker of curiosity in them. his smile remained calm and calculating, but you felt a sliver of hesitation as you stared at it.

“we do. this way.”

there was no one else in the shop, as expected. you typically spent those hours organizing shelves and dusting until your usuals came in. it felt strange breaking away from your unofficial schedule, especially since suo and your brother never asked about books or music while visiting you.

“here,” you said as you waved a hand down one of the smaller sections in the store. it was located near the back, away from the door and any prying eyes with other not-so-popular genres. “if you need any more help—“

“sorry,” he smiled sweetly as he tapped a delicate finger against his covered eye. “i’m struggling to make out the titles. can you pull some for me?”

you shot a nervous glance toward the front of the store, worried your manager might walk in and accuse you of slacking off, but the feeling of suo’s intense gaze forced your attention back onto him. you blushed deeply, and he hummed.

wordlessly, you filtered through the poets, searching for authors with chinese surnames, and pulled those for your brother’s classmate. “here. look through them and bring the ones you like to the front. you can put the others back when you’re done.”

suo made sure to run his fingers along your hand as he took the books from you, and though you knew the action was purposeful, his closed-eyed expression betrayed nothing.

your expression, on the other hand, gave away every single thought running rampant through your mind. that was definitely on purpose; you could tell by the sweetness in his smile.

his hands are so soft… you blushed when you caught yourself thinking about his hands and fought the urge to slap the sides of your face.

“thank you for the book,” he said in a soft, almost cheerful voice, and you shook your head. suo still hadn’t moved, though, and neither had you.

you were going to be the first, leg twitching to step back, when he suddenly looked at you. you realized only then that suo had had his eye closed since taking the books from you and burned until his ruby-colored stare.

when you finally managed to take a step back, he took one forward. your heart fluttered, pulse hammering wildly in your ears at the proximity. the way his eye lowered and dragged to where your name badge rose and fell with your quickening breath sent an unfamiliar shock down your spine.

“this isn’t a good idea, suo.”

“logical? perhaps not. but good?” he leaned closer, hands clasped behind his back as his nose nearly blushed against your red cheek. “does this not feel good, y/n?”

you shivered. without permission, your hands flew up to clench the fabric of his jacket, fingers trembling as you held him in place. you tugged a little, not enough to move him, as you hesitated over whether you should pull him against you or push him away.

suo looked over you patiently, lips softly curled in their normal fashion, sending mixed waves of anger and heat through your chest. how could he not be affected by this? while your face felt like it would explode if it got any hotter.

“my brother’s not here,” you stammered pathetically. “you don’t have to keep teasing me.”

suo’s smile grew. “you’re the one holding me in place, y/n.”

your fingers released his jacket as if the contact burned you. hands unsure of what to do, you shoved them behind your back and leaned against the bookshelves to keep them pressed in place. “that’s… sorry.”

“don’t be,” he blew off casually, drawing your eyes back to his. “i liked it.”

oh god. this guy was going to be the death of you.

“i like you, too. but you aren’t ready for that at the moment.”

for the first time, you balked. any color in your face drained as his words slammed into you and repeated themselves in your head like a mantra.

you stammered pathetically for a reply until suo swept a strand of hair behind your ear with careful fingers. the tips of two brushed against your cheek, leaving thin trails of fire in their wake.

as quickly as his touch had been there, it left with him as he clasped his hands behind his back and sauntered to the front of the store. “i’ll take this one, please.”

it took you a moment to remember what he was talking about. you slapped the sides of your face and hurried to the front of the store to check his book out and hand it to him. “c-come again, soon,” you stammered out your professional line like it pained you to say.

suo only smiled. “i will.”

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'

Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.

A bite. You're bit.

No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.

He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.

Goddammit all.

Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.

It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.

Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.

It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.

You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.

"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.

Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.

You could'a just given up and died.

You could'a found a group.

Instead you found him again.

"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.

The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.

Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.

Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.

You're a mystery that he has to solve.

So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.

He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.

Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.

It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.

Somewhat.

You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.

"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."

"Fair nuff."

"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."

They fuckin' what?

Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.

He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.

This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.

Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.

Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.

Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)

She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.

So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible. 

Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.

He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.

His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.

[m1guelsgf]

Request enemies to lovers with Axel?

hiiiii sorry this took me so long but i hope u like it and i hope u don't mind diaz!reader. if so just lmk and i will write you another version <3 enjoy!

alacran

axel kovacevic x diaz!reader

it was the first day of the sekai tekai and the arena was buzzing with excitement. all the worlds best fighters had made it to barecelona. this was no all valley. there wouldn't be any 'easy' matches. everyone who was here had fought and earned the spot that they have.

being on miyagi do's team was a blessing and a curse. you had been fighting alongside your brother since he started learning (it was the only way your mom would agree to letting him take the lessons) and now the both of you have the ultimate chance to prove yourselves. on the world stage at the sekai tekai. of course, miguel was still salty over losing the captain spot but you knew he would get over it eventually. robby was his best friend, thankfully after years of drama involving both sam and you. you knew miguel would eventually be able to be happy for him.

the announcer began explaining away the sekai tekai and the rules, introducing all the teams and letting you all know what your day had in store for you.

"it's a beautiful day to make a first impression."

you looked around the mat at all your competitors. fighters you will have to face at some point. you peered over at tory from your spot on the mat and frowned. you had been good friends with tory, starting when she started dating your brother. it didn't even phase you when she started dating robby, your ex, because you two were such good friends. no matter what has happened, all the drama, you and tory had always been there for each other and now she's on the other side of the mat.

"come on, let's go get changed." sam waved you over and you followed her out of the arena. you could see the weight on her shoulders and her concern for tory. you could see it on everyone, but especially robby and sam.

at the aquarium, you were watching all the captains get a group shot together.

"they're really going out of their way to let us know how special the captains are."

"yeah i'm getting that." miguel spoke, arms crossed and his eyes set on the group. it didn't take a genius to see that he was still seething over the captain debacle.

"it seems like everyone already knows each other." you commented, observing people going at each other and yelling. "and it's not friendly."

"maybe it's like prison. just punch the toughest guy square in the jaw on day one." demitri suggested.

you, hawk, and miguel turned to face him, evaluating what he had just said. "not sure where we should start then."

"what about ivan drago over there?" hawk nodded in the direction of one of the captains and you turned to look.

the first thing you noticed were his eyes. they drew you in really close and you could get lost in them if you weren't careful. he towered over everyone and his expression was serious as his gaze all but burned lazers through you.

"you there in the back, focus, come on!" the photographer got his attention back and the boy managed a half smile.

"he's been checking you out since we were at the arena." hawk nudged you with his elbow and you promptly nudged him back a little harder. "ouch."

"ugh." miguel rolled his eyes, disgusted at the notion that someone had been checking out his little sister. "i'm gonna catch up with sam, stay with her." he spoke to hawk and he nodded.

"i'm not a child miggy!" you called out after him and huffed, knowing hawk and demitri wouldn't let you out of their sight at miguel's order. no, you would have to be more clever. "hey guys, is that a polar bear?"

"where?" they spoke in unison and whipped around to see what you were talking about.

"they really shouldn't have one here in captivity, it's far from the best conservatory." demitri spoke and for a moment, they forgot that they were mad at each other while you quickly ran in the first direction you could.

quickly making your way through the halls of the aquarium, you were turning to look over your shoulder so much that you bumped into someone and sent yourself straight to the ground. you peered at their shoes, noticing they were still upright and let your gaze follow upwards until your heart dropped.

it was the boy. the ivan drago look alike. the guy hawk said had been checking you out was now standing above you, staring down at you with the same expressionless face as before. and then he utters his first words to you.

"watch where you're going."

"excuse me?" you immediately responded, brows furrowing as you stood yourself up.

"that's what you should have said." he shot back, posture rigid. he was almost like a statue.

your mouth parted to say something but you didn't know what to say. you narrowed your eyes at him. he was cute, but not cute enough to talk to you like that.

"y/n!"

thankfully, before you two could stand there gaping at each other, miguel had called your name from the end of the corridor. his arms were crossed and you could tell you were in for it.

"let's go."

you turned to follow miguel, not before throwing one last glare in the boy's direction.

"what the hell did i tell you?"

"technically, you told demitri and hawk to watch me. like a child." you spoke pointedly back at your brother.

"dude, mom told me to keep an eye on you and to keep you out of trouble. it's not my fault she doesn't trust you after everything." miguel referenced your cobra kai days after his injury where you partied, fought, and had a severe lack of respect for your family. "you really think i wanna babysit you while i'm in spain with my girlfriend? if you don't want a babysitter then grow the hell up."

you only raised your middle fingers in a childish display of disrespect and walked away from him. you spent the rest of the afternoon stuck between hawk and demitri who were competing on who could name the most sea creatures.

after the first day of challenges, where it seemed like everyone but miguel got properly washed on the mat, you decided to go down to one of the exercise rooms in the hotel. you had been stewing over what miguel said and your interaction with the boy, who you now know is named axel, so you really just wanted to escape into your head to the sound of your playlist while you beat the ever loving fuck out of the punching bag.

you thought back on axel, letting your anger towards him motivate you into throwing harder punches, making the bag inch across the floor with every blow of your fists or kicks. you hated that he was such a jerk because he was cute. you hated admiting it to yourself but it excited you when hawk told you he had been checking you out. you hadn't dated since robby (after miguel's injury you just couldn't see him the same) and you were looking forward to dating someone outside your immediate friend group. you felt stupid for getting your hopes up.

and you felt stupid in general. miguel was right. you had no one to blame but yourself for being on a short leash in the middle of spain. it was you who came home late all those times and yelled at your mom and yaya and caused so much trouble. you started imagining the bag as your past self, letting out loud yells of effort as you practiced different combinations.

"where was this on the mat?" a deep voice penetrated the music blasting into your ears from your headphones. you turned around to face axel, who was analyzing you.

when you saw him on the mat, you got a good idea of his skills based on the brief take down of both yoon and kwon.

and while your heart thumped against your chest because of the way he was looking at you and the way his white t-shirt outlined his frame, you were still annoyed at him. "excuse me but i have to go." you wiped your sweat, grabbing your gym bag and making your way to the door that was being blocked by axel. "excuse me." you reiterated, looking into his eyes that had a slight humor in them. "what?"

"you're pretty when you have manners." axel smiled at you and it angered you even further. instead of responding, you managed to squeeze through while passing underneath his arm. your hips brushed against his and you both went warm in the face.

you walked away from him, not before turning to look at him over your shoulder again. he was watching you leave, arms crossed over his chest while he leaned against the door frame.

that night you dream about him.

the second day of challenges was rough. you had held your own just fine but if it wasn't for miguel, you all would have had to go home. on top of that, daniel was missing for the entire day. the cherry on top though was learning that your mom was in the hospital.

"that's not fair, i should be there." you pleaded to johnny. you weren't as close with him as miguel was but he saw you as one of his kids.

"i know sweetheart, but me and miguel are gonna make sure she's okay." johnny placed his hands on your shoulders. "between you and me? miguel wouldn't be able to handle staying, not knowing if she's okay. i can't handle it. we both get caught up in our feelings and lose focus. but you're strong. you can do this. i need you to be here."

warm tears started rolling down your face when you realized he was right. miguel was in his room, sobbing while packing his bags and you were taking it better than the both of them. it's not that you didn't care, no your stomach was in knots and your heart was threatening to crawl out of your throat, you just knew there was nothing you could do except hope for the best.

"take care of her. call me as soon as you see her i don't care if it's still the middle of the night here. call me when you know she's okay." you hugged johnny tightly and he hugged you back in a fatherly way. you hadn't been hugged like this since the last time you saw your actual dad and that memory was slowly fading. johnny's hug communicated just how much he loved and cared for your family.

"okay." he whispered into your hair and kissed your forehead. "i'll go get miguel."

you sighed once johnny left your room and not long after, sam, robby, demitri, and eli trailed in.

"you okay?" robby asked cautiously. he had always been gentler with you but especially after everything. even though you had broken up ages ago, he never stopped caring about you and neither did you about him. you were good friends.

"i need a drink." you grabbed your purse and walked past them, out of your room. they all followed you.

at the bar, you had been on a slightly destructive path. you were nearing the threshold and about to cross over from being charmingly tipsy to just drunk.

"do you really need another?" tory asked, taking a seat besides you. "rough day?"

"you don't even know." you looked at your friend before taking a sip of your new drink.

"you didn't suck out there." she complimented in her own way.

"thanks." you replied dryly. the alcohol was starting to sour your mood and you could feel your head beginning to spin.

"are you okay?"

"no." you stood up, walking out of the bar. tory tried following but was stopped by robby. you stumbled your way down to the beach, dropping into the sand like a bag of bricks. you held your head in your hands, sitting with your knees to your chest as you tried to ground yourself.

it was all too much though. you started thinking about your mom and how much you needed her to be okay. other than when miguel got hurt, you hadn't been this scared before. the difference was, you were able to ride with miguel in the ambulance. your mom was across the globe and you wouldn't be able to tell if she was okay until they did. you had so many regrets about your mom. you weren't always the easiest child and lord knows you got into it with her too many times to count. that didn't mean you didn't love her though. she was the person you loved the most in the world after all her sacrifices for you and your brother.

you sat in the sand like that for a while, unaware of the people passing and the person watching you intently.

"too much to drink?" you recognized axel's voice and it plucked your heartstrings.

looking up at him with your glassy eyes, you saw his expression change. sniffling, you respond. "i'm really not in the mood right now so if you could please just fuck off, i would really appreciate it. thanks."

"i don't feel right just leaving you here." he responded, tone now serious. "i'll go back to practicing where i was. when you're ready to go back to the hotel just tell me."

and before you could respond, he was back at his spot in the sand practicing his kata.

you wallow for a bit longer, letting the sound of the ocean drown out all the other noise rattling around in your head. you checked your phone for any calls or messages but you had none. they were probably barely taking off. you used your phone as a mirror and wiped your face of any tears and snot that may have trickled and you slowly stood up. your head wasn't spinning any more but you still felt the effects of the alcohol as you stumbled your way towards axel through the sand.

his back was turned to you and you could see dark purple bruises on his back.

"jesus, what happened to you?"

this time was axel's turn to be surprised. "bo staff competition." he pulled his shirt over his head.

"right." you distinctly remember the announcer praising axel for not having a single point against him. untouchable. as he called him. your drunk brain was loosely connecting dots, like the shouts you had heard from the exercise room while axel and his sensei were training.

"ready?"

"yeah."

the two of you set off into the night, neither of you knowing what to talk about if anything.

axel felt conflicted. the only reason he had been so cold towards you was because he thought it would help him shove his feelings down. he liked you. he thought you were beautiful and talented and he wanted to get to know you but it would also be a devastating distraction for him. by the looks of it, you were dating that guy who had called out to you in the arena. to brush you off and away was supposed to help him focus on the tournament but here he was, walking you back to the hotel while you followed him like a sad little puppy. he wanted to ask what was wrong, why you were by yourself, but he knew it wouldn't lead to anything good so he stayed silent.

"can i ask you something?" when you got no response, you figured it was your queue to keep going. "why do you hate me? like i have a reason to hate you- because you're a stupid jerk, but why do you hate me? why do you-"

"i don't." axel hoped this would seem like a dream when you woke up in the morning rather than a memory. "i just can't like you."

"why? what did i do?" you were looking at him with those puppy dog eyes and he wanted to melt.

"i just can't. leave it alone." he spoke sternly, almost as if scolding a child.

"okay..." you huffed and it was silent for the rest of the walk. every now and then axel would have to grab onto your arms or shoulders to keep you from falling. it made it all so much harder for him. "thank you axel. you didn't have to."

he gave you a warm, unfamiliar smile. "i did. goodnight."

"g'nite." you got into the elevator and from there you can only remember waking up in your bed with a massive headache.

the next day, you had decided to go on a run with hawk. he told you the best way to cure a hangover was to sweat it out and it did help. you were just still confused at the way your night ended.

apparently miguel had called and informed you that your mom was okay and he and johnny were coming back but that moment was lost on you. the same as how you got home. were your dreams getting too realistic or did axel take care of you last night? you didn't know and were afraid to ask anyone. the miyagi do's trust was delicate and the captain of the iron dragon was giving you the cold shoulder when you saw him in passing. he had even started messing with miguel. glaring at him and shoulder checking him throughout the third day of challenges.

you didn't know what his problem was and you weren't eager to find out. especially with zara at his side, who you could only assume was his girlfriend. tory had already made an enemy of her and you weren't keen on doing the same.

"what the hell was that?" miguel asked you when axel shoved his shoulder into him for the nth time. this time was definitely intentional, there was no way to convince himself it was an accident.

"i don't know." you shrugged, glancing at axel who was coldly staring at you.

"stay away from that guy, yeah? he gives me the creeps." miguel places a hand on your back, leading you out of the arena while throwing a questioning glare over his shoulder at axel. you said nothing as your brother led you away.

after beating cobra kai and securing a spot in the semis, you had a bone to pick. your irritation was crawling all over you as you felt axel watching you through your whole match. it made you feel uneasy, being watched so closely. more importantly, it made you nervous. self conscious to the point of having a point landed on you.

"what the hell is your problem?" you asked harshly, slamming the door to the exercise room behind you. axel was alone just as you were the last time, taking his frustrations out on the punching bag.

"manners..." he tsked at you and you scoffed.

"fuck manners." you stepped closer, face heated with anger. "you're being such a pain in my ass and in miggy's and i wanna know why." you demanded.

"miggy." axel sucked his teeth, shaking his head at the affectionate nickname.

"seriously. what is your problem with me and my brother?"

brother? suddenly axel felt bad. "he's your brother?"

"what the fuck else would he be?" you narrowed your eyes, extremely annoyed by your inability to read him. axel didn't respond and you stepped closer. "i want you to leave us alone. stop bothering him and stop watching me."

"or what?" axel knew it was dangerous but he took another step closer to you. the silence hung heavy between the two of you as frustration was being emitted by the both of you. axel had been frustrated about you and now you were here. your eyes looking at him. your soft lips parting to speak. the blush on your cheeks. he just couldn't help himself.

and neither could you. it was like an impule for the both of you, immediately grabbing onto each other and going in for a kiss.

it was rough and angry. axel had been trying so hard to get you out of his head. his own mind and body were betraying himself because of you and he hated it. he hated the way you infected his mind.

and you hated that he had the same effect on you. he had been nothing but annoying since the very first day but you still wanted him. it didn't matter what miguel or anyone else thought. you finally gave in and you wanted this.

he wanted it too. you were pressed against the wall, his teeth grazing your bottom lip making you open your mouth wider for him. he held the back of your head as he kissed you deeper, liking the way your body pressed against his. quickly, you managed to swap postitions so it was him pressed against the wall.

from this vantage point, you were able to provide friction the both of you desperately needed. axel was moaning into your mouth and you were returning them. when your lips parted from each other, a string of saliva connected you two together as you panted breathlessly.

"leave me and my brother alone." you whispered, licking your lips and pecking his one last time before sauntering out of the room.

axel watched you go. he could leave miguel alone, sure. you on the other hand...

[eeboyysworld]

“Why’d you only ever call me

when you’re high?”

—⋆. 𐙚⋆.˚

Genre: Smut (angst?)

Gi-hun X Male!Reader

Cautions/Warnings: Drunk sex , Sub!Top Gi-hun , slight obsession , reader is his ex-boyfriend , maybe slight manipulation, cheating , anal sex , riding , spit as lube , praise kink

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The air was thick, suffocating your nose and head, bright lights of all sorts of colours bouncing off wall to wall.

Countless bodies grinding and shoving against one another, the jam packed dance floor emitted the smell of sweat.

Downing down another shot, slamming the glass on-top the tacky table , littered with random substances.

Regret and ecstasy fought inside you, the urge to leave swept away as music flooded your ears.

Friday nights were always memorable, now, not so much. Being alone in any social place didn’t look good for you.

Being dumped by the man you loved left you hopeless, along with the many bills piling up. You don’t know how long you could hold on in this situation.

Exhaling, politely asking for another drink, your eyes wandering the floor filled with moving bodies.

Landing onto two men, dancing like nobody else was watching, but you were. The two figures endlessly reminding you of your past.

———

Gasping for breath, your body ached from the movement you held, swaying side to side, the music no longer blasting into your head as you lean into the man close to you.

He smelled of cigar and a cheap lousy cologne, his shirt a plain white , topped with jeans.

Face scattered with bruises alike, if anything it made him look sexier to you.

Letting out a laugh, grabbing his collar, successfully pulling him towards you. Your breath reeked of fruity alcohol, but he did nothing to back away.

“What’s your name, handsome?” The other was equally as drunk as you, giving him the boost of confidence he lacked.

Pulling his face closer to you, lips pushed against your ear, his voice held a gentle tone.

“You’ll find out tonight, once it’s the only thing you can scream..”

A smile crept onto your face, tumbling as you grabbed the others tattered hands.

Managing yourself into the crowd, gripping into the flesh you held. Guiding you both into the empty bathroom.

It wasn’t the cleanest place, but fuck it , you were bothered by this man and needed him.

That night ended up with you and the man , Gi-hun , stumbling back to your house since it was closer. Talking about whatever dumb stuff popped into your mind.

The both of you laughing down the street, strangers eyeing you two.

———

Lowering your pounding head into the cold surface, hoping it’ll soothe your headache.

Decisions swirling your mind, the thought of calling your ex kept popping up. He must miss you..but was too afraid to be the first to call.

In your drunken opinion that was the best you can muster up.

Sipping your drink , reaching into the pockets of your jeans, flipping through the contacts stored into the phone.

Thumb hovering over the call button, nervously biting down your bottom lip.

Fuck it all, bringing the phone to your ear, listening to the ongoing ring tone.

20 seconds passed before you got answered, flinching slightly, not really expecting a response.

Yearned flowed inside you, pressing you on to call out his name.

“Gi-hun?..” all you got was silence, you would have thought he hung up ,if it wasn’t for the occasional breath or the static of a tv played in the back.

A sigh was heard before he spoke quietly, “What do you want.” The tone was harsh, not the first time you had it towards you, it still left your heart pounding.

The alcohol gave you a boost, muttering into the warm surface of the glowing screen. “I want you.”

No response, you expected that. Letting out a small please at the end, nervously bouncing your leg up and down.

“You’re drunk ..” The accusation hung in the silence.

giving no time to listen to your own advice that lingered in you, mouth opening before a rationally thought could happen.

“Meet me beside ‘———‘ ..” hanging up before cursing yourself for being foolish. Why would he ever show up.

Still, hope made you stand up, navigating yourself through the sweaty crowd of lusty people, some hands trying to grip you.

Pushing a random girl off of you, finding yourself outside.The club’s neon sign flickering due to the lack of electricity.

The fresh air grounded you, breathing it in before waddling down the street.

———

Warm lights illuminated your figure, the empty park stood still. Only you were there, flopping down on the hard bench.

Playing with a loose string hanging off your shirt , the summer breeze cooling you down, only slightly sobering you up.

It took you 15 minutes getting here, only because you had a hard time walking. And because you knew where the other man lived, calculating how long it would be until the arrival. ‘18 minutes..’

Too lost into your head, replaying forgotten memories. You failed to notice a figure clad in the same white shirt from 3 months ago.

Sitting down next to you, the other man stiff as a board. His voice called out to you.

Yanking your head , nearly snapping it , surprise and disbelief emitting you. “ Y-you’re here..”

He was still handsome as ever, the bruises long gone but replaced with cuts across his face. A cap sat on-top his disheveled hair, his eyes held uncertainty.

“You called.” Despite the fact he knew this was a bad idea , he found himself holding onto you. The guy who ruined him, the guy who saved him at the same time.

He told himself he was just going to check to see if you were alright, after all you were drunk and alone , no telling what could happen to you.

But he found himself intrigued.

You, on the other hand, in the drunken state you were in , grabbed onto his shirt. Yanking him into a hug , the heat radiating off the both of you.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, becoming too emotional once liquor is poured down your throat.

Hiccups leaving you , sobbing into his damp skin. Pleas stuttering into the wind.

Gi-hun was a simple man, sure, he can be harsh at times.But he wasn’t a monster, far from that.

Therefore, he couldn’t help but to comfort you, his hands shakily soothing your locks. “You’re a mess.”

Your chest shook with laughter, the tears staining your face. The other man’s natural musk melted you, the smell of fresh body wash lingering into his skin.

Clouding your senses, daring just a little lick onto the tan skin, feeling the other flinch beneath you.

Nipping slightly into him, he made no movement to stop you. Urging you to take a little bite.

Suddenly he shoved you off. “H-hey.” Your face resembled a kicked puppy, “I was only trying to..- comfort you.” It aches his heart to see you so gloomy.

Looking up at the sky , groaning like a spoiled kid. Basically begging the man to let you in.

Throwing yourself at him, gripping for dear life. Whispering into him.

“You made me like this..” shaking your head as you fed him lies. The words leaving him speechless, each sentence making him question himself.

Resuming the little nips you left, each time adding more pressure. Your own hands holding onto his waist.

Massaging the shirt along with his skin, biting down his neck , licking it over as an apology.

The other wouldn’t lie if he said he missed you. Missed the way your hands would roam his body after work, your mouth leaving marks along his neck while he fucked into you.

He has a girlfriend.But even she couldn’t satisfy him, not the way you do.

Flashes of his time spent with the girl occupied his mind, guilt eating him up. While you laid desperate kisses along his jaw.

“I-..i have a girlfriend.” That made you pause, before you moved away, nose to nose. “ I know.” That wasn’t a lie, you kept tabs on the other.

With nothing to say , he let you continue to mount on him. Fingers trailing his jaw to his cheek, hand resting there. “Push me away if you want..” muttering, “- I’ll stop once you say the words.”

Neither of you wanted to end this situation. Seconds passed as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

“Let’s go home..” he was even surprised with himself, the neediest lingered across his eyes, betraying the act of pushing you away.

———

It wasn’t even a second before you shoved him against the wall, the pictures shaking behind his body. Mouth shoving itself into his , licking the bottom lip , asking for permission to enter.

The other opened up , yourself greedily exploring everything you can taste.

His hands gripping your waist, the shirt clinging to your skin. Your own hands sliding downwards, immediately groping him. The hard on visible.

Whimpers could be heard over the sound of fabric rubbing against each other. Hands slipping inside the jeans, playing with the pre-cum. “Mgh..-“

Chuckling, “ Bet your girl couldn’t even get this far.” Teasing the man’s tip, swirling your thumb, lapping up the cream.

Not just anyone’s hand could make him come undone, only you.

The position you guys were in wasn’t the best. So, you guided the both of you to the couch , blanket messily laid across.

Pushing the man down, sitting yourself on-top, directly on the bulge. Groaning from the pressure, the jeans you adorned made the pressure harder than it should be.

Cooing, you lifted yourself up, unbuttoning his jeans, yanking it down to his ankles. His length bounced up, the cool air hitting him.

He watched as you undressed yourself, slowly but surely.

You left yourself in nothing but the shirt.

Desperately he gripped your hips, carefully watching you. Watched as you took his hand, taking his fingers into your mouth. Sucking on him, spit coating his digits.

Watched as you navigated his fingers behind you, asking him to continue what you started.

Finger circling the rim before pushing in, the stretch burned. You haven’t been with anyone after the breakup.

He soothed you the best he can, kissing you slowly to stop the whines leaving you.

Each finger added left you arching, finger hitting your spot before stopping.

Deeming good enough, you yanked his hand away. Reaching behind you, tip just barely touching you.

Achingly slow before you halted, giving yourself a breather.

Hands finding your hips again, “ You look so beautiful like this.” His words went in and out the other ear.You knew this would only last for just this night.

Smiling , solemnly tracing his stomach. Leaning down, “Stop..” for now , the both of you will drown in this temporarily bliss.

Suddenly you lifted yourself up before slamming back down, shutting whatever the man was gonna say.

Bouncing up and down, thighs clenching from force. Fingers gripping you, leaving harsh marks.

Your own hard on slapping against his lower abdomen, creating friction. Sobs left you , no longer drunk on liquor but the man beneath you.

“Y-you feel so -.. good-“ slaps echoed the room mixed with moans, the air becoming stiff.

Mouth finding the others neck, sucking hard into him, muffling yourself from saying anything stupid.

Clenching around his length, repeatedly hitting your spot. The other’s hand groped you from behind, spreading you open.

Whining from stimulation, the two of you becoming sloppy, his hips stuttering into you.

Your own legs shaky, thighs clenching and unclenching. The constant pleasure left you guys muttering nothing into each others skin.

It wasn’t long before you spilled yourself onto the other’s stomach, the white contrast with tan skin.

Halting your movements, as the other fucked up into you messily.

Wordlessly as he released in you, the warmness embraced you.

Collapsing onto him, you both laid there.Before he slowly pulled out.The seed spilling out of you , effectively dripping out of your hole.

The two of you said nothing, you were officially sobered up.

Afraid to lose this forever, your hands found his, intertwining together. Before you could think , the words left you.

“I love you.”

———

A/N - Can you tell that I’m finally figuring out how to use Tumblr 🤓 also thanks for the likes and follows I appreciate it🙏🙏❣️