#but...god he wishes he'd never figured out his feelings for him. he wishes he'd stayed oblivious to that part of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

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Can you please do a part two of the Sebastian fluff where he lets his thoughts get the best of him and gets anxious that reader now sees him as a monster because of what they read on his document so he prepares extra good items and plans to give them heavy discounts and even some free but reader barges in like

"MANTIS SHRIMP??? PUNCH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW"

And after a bit of reassuring(possibly some punching too bc reader is too starry-eyed for him to say no to em) Seb realizes he trully never had anything to worry about and just, generally grows fonder of reader?

Ps. Adore your writing, keep up the awesome work!!

"God, why did I let them take it? Stupid, stupid, stupid.."

Sebastian couldn't stop beating himself up, even though he knew he shouldn't care about the opinion of any human sent by Urbanshade--especially one of the "expendable" class.

Yet because it was you, specifically--who was currently in possession of his document--he began to wonder what you'd think of him once you found out the truth:

That he was nothing but a horrible monster. Plain and simple.

If not the knowledge that he was a hideous chimera of several sea creatures' DNA...then surely the revelation that he caused the lockdown of the Blacksite would ultimately make you resent him.

He released all those creatures, who stopped at nothing to prevent you from reaching the crystal and had you running, fighting, or hiding for your life.

He was responsible for all the injuries you've sustained while crawling into his shop, desperately needing a medkit and a place to rest.

He would understand if you'd never want to visit him again after what they documented about him..but the image of your furious expression and overthinking the words you'd possibly say to him left him feeling incredibly anxious.

Suddenly, Sebastian found himself gathering more supplies. Medkits, code breakers, and every light source he had currently in the shop, trying to market down whatever he could. He was even willing to let you take batteries for free...which was something he'd never normally do.

Would it be enough to make up for everything horrific you discovered about him and the terrors he indirectly put you through? Absolutely not.

Was he willing to try it anyways just for the small chance that you'd keep visiting him? Maybe.

No other human has shown him a single ounce of kindness or gratitude for his services. Nobody except you, of course, and he refused to lose that.

-thump, thump-

"Shit.." He froze, hearing movement in the vent duct, hands trembling for his light to shine brighter. Part of him wishes he could stay in the dark, as he didn't wanna see your face and whatever hurt expression it could possibly hold.

But he knew it'd be rude if you actually needed to buy something, so he forced himself to look as your familiar figure crawled out of the small opening. You seemed out of breath, like you were just running from something, and stood up to dust the dirt off your pants.

"Sebastian..I need to know something, and you need to be 100% honest with me."

The moment you pulled out his document, the shopkeeper could feel his heart sink.

"Wh..What did you want to know?" He asked, already bracing himself for the worst.

You sounded dead serious, and he was convinced you were finally going to let him have it.

You were going to force him to explain himself and his actions, and tell him what a monster he truly was. Literally and metaphoric-

"Its it true that you have mantis shrimp DNA????"

Silence.

Of all the possible outbursts he expected from you, that certainly didn't cross his mind.

Sebastian just stared down at you, utterly dumbfounded. He blinked several times, unsure if he was truly seeing the wide smile and starry-eyed look on your face.

He had been waiting for a deep scowl, eyes full of anger and betrayal and sadness that he wasn't the "friend" he claimed himself to be when you first visited his shop.

Yet now? He saw nothing but pure delight in your expression.

"Um..yes. But of alllll the things you read about me, that shocked you the most?" He was still treading carefully.

"Well, it sucks that you were an innocent guy who got thrown into a shitty situation." You gestured to him, frowning a little. "And I'm sorry you never saw justice, but...it's just SO cool that you're part mantis shrimp!" A grin returned to your face. "They've fascinated me for years! I used to watch videos of them all the time. Did you know the velocity of just one of their punches is equal to a .22 caliber bullet-?"

"Stop." He put a hand up, huffing. "At least some part of you must resent me. I mean...helloooooo, did you skip over the bit where I'M the reason those monsters are after you?! There's no way you could've ignored that..unless your brain turned off the moment you read "mantis shrimp"."

"I read everything, Sebastian." You huffed back. "Look, if I ever had to go through what you did..I think I'd wanna rebel, too. And as much as those monsters scare me, they've probably endured the same experiments as you. They probably felt just as trapped and afraid. You must see at least a few of them as your friends, right?"

"Eyefestation and the PAInter are the only ones I consider "acquaintances"." He answered after a long pause, shoulders slumped. "The anglers are primitive, but they recognize me as the one who freed them, so they don't bother me or my shop. The only creature that tends to be an issue is-"

-thump-

Tensing, you looked over your shoulder to see a Wall Dweller emerge from the vent behind you, its mouth split open and drooling with hunger, standing on two legs.

"-that." Sebastian glared at the creature; and before it could run away, he blocked the entrance with his tail fin. "Oh no you don't." He swooped over to grab ahold of its head with his third hand, causing it to shriek and kick its legs as he held it up high. "You seriously need to stop eating my customers when they're trying to BUY SOMETHING!!"

The Dweller just growled at him, to which he ignored it and glanced down at you. "What should I do with this thing?"

"Punch it!" You grinned, your fists balled up in front of you as you hopped up and down. "I wanna see how fast you could throw one!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Pleeeeaaase?"

"..ugh, if it gets that stupid puppy-eyed look off your face, fine." He looked back at the Dweller, grinning widely as he cracked his knuckles. "You wanna eat something so bad? Try this."

"....grahh-?"

In a blinding flash, his fist went through the creature's skull, effectively turning its head into dust. Then he dropped the whole body onto the ground with a grimance. "Eugh..never done that before.."

Then he looked down at you again, seeing your smile brighten. "Hope that made you happy."

"It did, that was amazing!" You laughed, kneeling down to rip off a chunk of the Dweller's flesh. He eyed you strangely, his expression changing to a look of horror as you shoved a piece in your mouth.

"What the f...why would you eat that?!"

"It's okay! I've had this stuff before." You swallowed, feeling rejuvenated already.

"B....Before?! What you're eating is clay and acid-"

"Actually, it's fresh meat. Reminds me of poultry, almost. I found a document somewhere saying that it has regenerative properties." You explained to Sebastian, whose eyes only widened the more you talked. "I didn't believe it at first until I saw the Angler kill one. I was hungry and...eating it healed my electrical burn somehow."

".......why was that not in its actual document?" He muttered.

You shrugged, ripping out another piece and offering it to him. "Care for a bite?"

"I'll..pass. But thanks." Lowering his body closer to you, he frowned. "Are you absolutely sure that-?"

"I'm sure."

"..you didn't even know what I was going to-"

"You were worried about my reaction to your file. I could tell from the discount signs and how you were scared to even look at me."

"............."

"But I promise it doesn't change anything, okay? We're still friends, Sebastian, and I'll still swing by to do business with you." You reassured him, smiling as you patted the back of his hand, before noticing the bandage on his third arm seemed bloody. "Um..when's the last time you changed that?"

"...oh this? Erm..it's fine." He attempted to hide it behind his back. "Nothing you should be concerned abou-"

"Too late. It's my concern now. Let me repay you for saving my tail."

He had no time to protest, as you were already on your feet and running for the medkit that was on the table. You weren't worried about getting to the next zone right now.

Not that Sebastian planned on kicking you out anytime soon.

No.

Now that he was able to confide in you, he was genuinely beginning to enjoy your company--especially as you asked him to rest his arm across your lap. From there, your gentle hands went to work changing the bandage out for a fresh one, using an alcohol spray to keep the wounds from getting infected.

He hissed and cursed a few times at the stinging pain, but not once did he try to get you to stop.

Suddenly, it all began to hit him in this exact moment.

You were willingly playing nurse to a giant sea monster that has killed a man and was responsible for the terrifying things you had to witness down here.

He couldn't understand..but at the same time he felt relieved that all along he had nothing to worry about.

"Th-That's fine..thank you.."

Hearing a sniffle, you glanced up as Sebastian hastily took his arm away, "standing" back up and turning away from you. You just smiled and patted his tail comfortingly, not saying a word as you waited for him to collect himself.

For once, that snarky and sarcastic fish you've come to know was gone, and he was letting his walls down, finally realizing he could trust you.

Eventually he fell silent, and you wondered what to do now. You bought everything you wanted to earlier, so you didn't wanna overstay your welcome-

"Do you mind staying for a little bit longer?"

The question surprised you, but you smiled and nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't mind, shrimpy."

There was a pause, and he slowly looked back at you, pouting. "Big talk coming from someone as tiny as you, friend." He playfully sneered.

You just laughed and shook your head, glad to see him in better spirits.

Thanks to that scrambler on his back, you didn't have to worry about HQ getting on your ass about continuing the mission or threatening detonation.

You could definitely stay awhile and ramble about more mantis shrimp facts to Sebastian...if he was willing to hear them, of course.

#fluff is served <3 #clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #fluff

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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Mafia!Konig X Sex Worker/Prostitute!Reader pretending like she's constantly not there at the brothel whenever she hears him coming

You aced the art of hiding from him. Unfortunately, Konig is still the most paid client at your brothel and, at some point, even a fine establishment like yours, will stop listening to your wishes and finally push you in his hands. The manager might be a bit disappointed that such an elite prostitute is gone from this line of work forever, but at least they would lose Konig as a client - and with this guy, he always brings in more trouble than money. Although he has paid three times more than your debt already. You were trying to avoid him, but everyone else at the brothel was ratting you out - no one wants to deal with an angry mafia boss when his favorite girl is not around, and especially not when he thinks that she is with another client. He paid for you to be blocked from any other guy - as much as you hated it, since the manager didn't pay you even half of what Konig gave. You're a bird inside a fabric-padded cage, and Konig is your silent observer, waiting for you to finally break and ask him to get you out of this place. Maybe, it won't be so bad. Yeah, he'd clip your wings and make you stay by his side at all times - but he would also pay you more than any of the assholish clients you had. Maybe your freedom was cheaper than you thought it is. Konig always pays for the whole night, always drags you out of the place - it's usually not in the policy, with how careful the place treats its best dolls, but he can pay upfront and make a week of your payments in just a few hours. He never stays for the whole night, however -- too busy, you guess, never staying too long after he fucked you once or twice. He pays for the whole night and let you stay at the fancy hotel room he got for the two of you, with breakfast service in bed included. On good days, you can almost pretend to be a spoiled princess who has servants at her beck and call. On bad days, you feel like a sacrifice for some unruly god of war. Spread open on his bed and then fed grass-fed cuts of beef and some expensive grapes. You feel stuffed during those days - both figuratively and literally. Sometimes you really wish he'd stay - but the most he gives you is a quick hug, desperately clinging to your body before his mind catches up to him and tells him to stay away.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig

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wonryllis · 7 months

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☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

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cvnt4him · 3 months

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sassy deku >>> (big ass forehead)

YK YOU WRONG FOR TALKING AB MY MAN LIKE THAT HES GORGEOUS HIS FOREHEAD IS PERFECT THE WAY IT IS.

N YKW? IM AB TO MAKE A FULL THING TOO. CAN WE TALK AB THE HEAD THING THO??? LIKE HUH LIKE THAT PARAGRAPH IS MIND BLOWING.

...........................................

Getting an attitude w sassy men

..............................................

M. izuku.

You and izuku never really get into fights so when you randomly got an attitude w him you better believe he got pissed. He's so sweet and nice to you under all circumstances whatsoever, he doesn't want to disrespect you at all but God lately you've just been getting on his nerves. The way you bitch around and yell at him like he exploded the sun.

"are you fucking kidding me izuku? Like are you genuinely insane. I just cannot with you."

You scoff and yell at him with an angry tone.

He rolls his eyes and ignores you, you've really just been so annoying. Like God why can't you simply shut up and suck his cock. Like he's been through so much in his life and this so what he gets in return?

"yeah okay bitch."

"excuse me?!"

"you fucking heard me, you've literally been bitching all day over some shit I had nothing to do with like I just can't. I've saved all of Japan and instead of getting a loving girlfriend to cook and clean for me you're sitting here being a whiney little bitch."

He spat venom with every word that left his beautifully pink tinted lips, his eyes squinted at you with spite. The way he spoke stunned you, you were frozen in shock. You're sweet loving boyfriend who'd never raise his voice at you or even attempt to hurt your feelings,

Tears welled in your eyes as you were blinded by the forming tears, blinking heavily trying to bat away the tears that were starting to become present. Izuku never got angry or even attempted to fight with you, he hated the guilty feeling he'd always feel and not djd you make him feel it.

You made him sleep on the couch for a couple of nights, the main reason he actually stayed on the couch was because he felt he deserved it after what he'd said and how hed spoken to you. Izukus kother would be so disappointed in him. The words that left his mouth were misogynistic and ugly, he wasn't that kind of person, but for some reason you brought out the bad in him.

There was also the good. You knew how to make him laugh, smile, feel oh so good. So why had he been so mean to you lately. He wished he knew.

Izuku came knocking on your shared room door waiting for you to say something, anything. It'd been so long since he'd heard your voice, since you'd spoken to him directly.

"come in."

A soft voice was heard through the wooden door as he practically pushed the door down trying to hurriedly open it to get to you. He gulped out of fear, afraid of what you'd say to him, how you'd feel if you looked at him. He hated himself for what he said, and he wanted to apologize.

You looked at him with sad eyes, you were under the cover hiding your face at first. It felt so good to see your beautiful face after so long. He sighed at your gorgeous features, your lips in a pouty frown and your hair a mess. You looked good no matter what.

"my pretty girl..."

He whispered to you, rushing to your side. He instantly wrapped his arms around your figure as you did the same, he moved the cover on top of the both of you and cuddled you. He buried his face in your neck planting little fast kisses everywhere.

"I'm so sorry.. you've just been so.. difficult lately."

He says into your ear. he feels you tense under his touch before moving back to look at him with a disgusted look. He gave you a confused one, why had you looked like this? He was apologizing!

"are you fucking kidding?"

"wha--"

"I'M being difficult??? If I'm SOO difficult just fucking leave."

Here we go again. He sighed heavily getting rather impatient which izuku was nothing but. You were angering him once again because you're bitching and nagging before he can even get a word out, per usge.

"my god you're such a spoiled little bitch. you never let me speak, always making things about yourself. I came fucking apologize but if you're going to be a fucking cunt I might as well fuck yours."

"are you fucking kidding me izuku?! you-- wait what."

Anyways he bent you over and yanked your underwear and pants off in one go didn't even bother prepping or anything just shoved his semi hard cock inside of you and thrusted into you at an insane pace.

Moral of this story is he didn't stop fucking you until you were a sloppy cum filled mess.

...........................................

I. tenya.

Tenya was so full of your shit. You've gotten in trouble in class, kept blowing him off, and then proceeded to ignore his texts.

He was so fed up with you. He needed to talk to you and you were going to hear him out not just as the class president but as your boyfriend.

"what do you want tenya."

"for you to stop acting like a cunt."

"i--- wha-"

"I'm so tired of your shit y/n you've been acting like a cold hearted ice queen towards me all day. I want to be with you but I can't stand being in the same room with someone who doesn't care about me."

"I never said i---"

"yet you're acting like I'm some minor pleb. Y/n I love you more than anything and yet you're standing here treating me like a insignificance to your presence."

He says putting his hands on his hips. God he looked so sassy like that it was actually kind of hot. He saw how a smirk appeared into your face as you looked him up and down and he tensed under your eyesight.

"yeah you're right tenya I've been kind of a dick all day hm, baby? Let me make it up to you yeah?"

You say batting your eyelashes at him walking towards him and rubbing your hands up and down his chest, burying your face in his neck and whispering and fanning your breath over it. He shivered and put his hands on your waist pulling you closer into his chest, he lifted your head closer to his, your lips so close to touching.

He pushed you down on the bed and dusted himself off.

"you've got to do a better job than that if you want me to forgive you.

Fuck, the smirk he gave you while walking out of his room was diabolical. God how did you end up with a sexy boyfriend like this. Yet he's such a pain in the ass too.

...........................................

M. neito.

Monoma was an ass sometimes, sure. A sassy diva, yeah, but he was never rude to you. He never made you feel like you were less than perfect, he always gave you what he felt you deserved and always made sure you knew how much you meant to him. He never let his feud with your class fuck with him. Until now.

He's been letting everything your class does get to him, and since you're in class 1A he's been getting rather pissed with you. The way he blew you off and pushed you aside like some petty diva was about your last straw.

You walked all the way to class 1B dorm house and bust through the doors in a fit of rage. You were not going to let anyone stop you from fucking up his world.

The way all of his classmates looked at you like you were crazy, some laughing others just genuinely confused why someone from class 1A was here to begin with.

"where the hell is he."

You say yelling to his classmates as they all pointed to up the stairs where the dorms were. You've been there before, not while everyone was awake. But you've been there before. You knew exactly where his dorm was located.

You stormed up the stairs and quickly made your way to his dorm. Upon arriving you bust down his door with your foot, he screams and hides under his work desk for cover. Once he seen it was you he scoffed and was ready to tell at you before being stopped before anything could even leave his lips.

"are you fucking kidding me?? You've been a dick to me all week for what? Because my class is higher than yours?? get over it. At the end of the day you're in hero courses you'll live. Stop treating me like a nuisance because of some sick twisted vendetta you have with my class!"

He scoffed, getting up from his hiding place with a hand to his chest in an offended manner. There was no way you seriously just spoke to him like this?? Where has this side of you come from?? You've always been so sweet and obedient with him!

He was speechless, not a word left his opened mouth. How could you speak to him like some loser. Like those dorks in your class!!

"nothing to say?"

You ask with your hands on your hips. He was sassy, but you knew how to play sassy as well. He crossed his arms and looked away from you. Not daring to utter a word. You kind of liked this side of him, the side that didn't talk back to you. It suited him. A pretty face with such pretty lips need to be shut sometimes. He looks better when he sits there and looks pretty.

You smirk and push him down onto his bed, he lets out a sound as you crawl on top of his lap and put both of your hands on his chest.

"my pretty boy.~"

He was a flushed mess, he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, he was stunned that you'd just done this to him. He was always the one to take the lead and initiate things!! He hated how much he didn't mind you being on top.

...........................................

B. katsuki.

Katsuki Bakugou, the world's sassiest man. The way he walks with a sway to his hips, the way he stands, the way he just exists unapologetically is enviable to all. Some envied his tiny snatched waist while others envied the fire behind his eyes. He loved being a hero but he loved his girlfriend more.

He loved you so much, so dearly he had no problem with admitting it either. However he hated, absolutely despised when you caught an attitude with him like he doesn't treat you like a queen.

He was absolutely appalled when you started bitching and yelling at him, waving your arms about and threatening to slap the fuck out of him. He scoffed with wide eyes and a smile like he was daring you to. He wasn't afraid to hit you back by all means, however he loved you too much to bring you into harms way in any kind. So he wouldn't actually hit you but throwing you against things, oh yeah that was an option.

"like honestly katsuki could you be more stupid?"

"bitch? Me, stupid? Hah! You're hilarious! Actually, you deserve an award for your humor honestly, how do you do it."

He jokes slapping his knee with an angry smile still plastered on his beautiful face. God you hated how he had such an effect on you despite how furious you were with him. He knew the huge effect he had on and used it to his advantage.

He smirked and pulled you by your waist mid sentence, you were yelling at him and your fiery words were instantly cut off by the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he moved slightly closer to you face his breath fanning over your face. He peered down at you with those volcanic ruby red eyes of his, daring you to do something anything. He wanted it.

"fucking asshole."

"I could fuck yours if you'd like, yeah?"

God you hated how much you loved him. He was an asshole, but he was yours. He never took you seriously when the two of you argued or when you got an attitude with him. You knew this and it angered you, but you could never stay angry with him because he'd always fuck it out of you like he hated you.

He pulled you into a passionate kiss still having that shit eating smirk on his face once he pulled away holding his forehead to yours as he chuckled lowly.

"you hate me."

"so fucking much."

You say pulling him into a heated kiss, walking backward towards his bed so he could fuck you like a slut.

...........................................

AN: chat this was the worst thing I've ever made, I don't think I made them sassy at all, except katsuki anything he does is sassy. however I low-key love how mean I made izuku, I js feel like after his vigilante arc and the war he's a different person, like he's still a sweetie pie but he doesn't take shit from anyone me thinks.

#cvnts-post #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #deku x reader #izuku x reader #cvnts-reqs #deku smut #izukus not so girlie pop #tenya iida smut #tenya lida #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #live laugh love monoma #mha monoma #monoma x reader #neito x reader #monoma neito

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itneverendshere · 3 months

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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without.

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it.

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair.

“They chew up people like you.”

“I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty.

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space.

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning.

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it!

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building.

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel.

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time.

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra.

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you.

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck. “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go.

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about.

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives.

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you.

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully.

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you.

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?"

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh.

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you.

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it.

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating.

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.”

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security.

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making.

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin.

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right.

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length.

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him.

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth.

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 months

Note

hey ari, i’m truly having an awful night. there’s a free pass for anything that involves someone being protective against a shitty guardian/parental figure. i wish jason todd would’ve kicked my dads ass tonight.

Lee took to Alfred much more warmly, peppering him with little boy questions about dinosaurs and oddly enough... piccolos? Which made the butler wonder if there was not a single neurotypical person in the entire family.

Adorable. He was enchanted. All dimples and curls. He'd carried Alfred a mug of tea managing to only spill half of it on the floor for the boxer and the wolf hound. And to get under your feet nearly causing you to fall twice- managing to get exiled to play outside with his dog.

It was a lovely afternoon. Watching Jason be so... soft. So helplessly in love with his wife and his children. Excited to be a new father. He enjoyed doting on his wife and fussing over his kids. He was comfortable in the vintage kitchen and the narrow halls. He liked the routine. Coming home to something stable.

When you started stretching your back in your kitchen chair, Jason smiled a little, "C'mon, let's get you on the couch."

"I'm fine, I just needed to-"

"Let's please not have to take you back to the hospital," Jason coaxed, helping you to your feet. "I'll tell Lee he needs to run in sight of the bay window every so often."

You snort and let him help you, grateful that he's strong enough to catch you if you need him to. It's comforting. He's comforting. Between his bulk beside you and Boris behind you. By the time he has you on the sofa you already feel better. At least until your phone rang.

"Hello?"

Jason frowned. He could tell from the look on your face who it was and he got Alfred seated listening with half an ear. Your biological father wanted money. Again. Either to have it put on his books or your sisters.

It hardly mattered. The divorce happened. Battle lines got drawn. You chose mom Mandy chose dad. Now you raised Mandy's kids and got "everything handed to you" as far as she could tell. Never mind trusts and adoptions. Or love. Or duty.

He gave Alfred a meaningful look and took a deep breath. Your biological dad and your sister were both banned. They both had no contact orders. And the second they upset you he'd be hanging up.

Your voice cracked. And tears fell.

And gently but firmly Jason plucked the phone from your hand, "If you're that fucking worried about Mandy's books use store brand instead of name brand for your meth and cut costs. Figure it out. Call here again and I'll report you to your PO." But before he could reply he hung up.

"Jay-"

"Shh," he soothed, "don't cry baby girl."

"God I hate it."

"I know," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. "But you're doing good. Just breathe." He broke off and wiped your face, kissing your forehead, "I can't get you a shot but I can get the baby a snack," he teased, "what do they want?"

"Milk chocolate sea salt caramel truffles," you tell him.

He grinned and kissed your nose before standing up, "Alfred, did you feel up to going to the store with me or do you want to stay and keep Y/N company?"

"Well obviously," Alfred said sipping a fresh cup of tea, "I'm going to stay here and be nosey."

"Ky it is," Jason said, "I'll take a kid and a grocery list... then maybe we won't come home with half the cereal aisle."

"We hope," you tell him smiling.

"Shh," Jason said. "Be nice to me and I'll buy more than one bag of truffles."

"You should probably do that anyway," Alfred observed. "For practical reasons."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

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yutxsgf · 1 year

Text

Bakugou was always the aggressive type, but you just do something to him that he can't explain.

Cw; Fluff, character POV, Fem!Reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

It all started the moment you walked into class, your soft demeanor, your resting soft natural look, your pink lightly glossed over lips. God, he couldn't help but fluster at the sight. You were so fucking stunning.

But would he ever admit it? No, not over his own grave.

Yet he'd always think it, especially since somehow, you got wrapped up in his squad instead of Deku's. How? He has no fuckin' clue. Just like with his heart, you managed to squirm your way into his "friend" group.

Even so, he'd always wish you'd switch sides and go with that damn nerd's group instead of his. Why? Because every single time he gets asked to hang out, you're there. You're there, overpowering every single one of his senses with your strawberry perfume. Every. single. fucking. time.

And even during class, you're there to disturb him with your damn strawberry scent. Because of course, you were swapped to sit next to him. Of course.

And of course, you were sometimes sat beside him during lunch. Why wouldn't you be? God, he can never catch a break, can he?

He doesn't know why you're so.. you. Nor does he know why you're fuckin' everywhere. And he doesn't know why he feels the way he does around you. But he wants it to stop. He wants you to stop. And that's why he's here, standing right before you with a deep scowl.

"Can you stop?"

"Wha?"

"Stop."

You just innocently tilt your head, obviously confused with this interaction. But did he care? Yes. But was he going to act like it? No.

"What are you talking about?"

He stayed silent, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he eyed your figure.

"Nothin' just stop coming near me, Damn it."

Turning on his heel, he walked away with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Whyd he say that? Did he hurt your feelings? Oh God, did he make you cry? Fuck. What's wrong with him?

"So.. you don't like me..?"

He froze mid-step with his eyes blown wide. What'd you just say? His head ever so slowly turned to glance at you over your shoulder.

He could feel his heart being wrenched out of his chest when he saw soft tears adorning your slightly chubby cheeks, barely ruining the soft faint blush of make-up as they dribbled down your cheeks.

"What?"

"You.. sniff, don't like me..?"

For once, he didn't know what to say. He didn't have any rude words of rejection stored away for you. He didn't have a stream of curse words at the tip of his tongue. He didn't have the urge to laugh in your face. The only thing he wanted to do was wipe your precious tears away with his thumb before giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.

"What're.. What.. Huh?"

"K-Kaminari said.. he said that you liked me like you like everyone, you just don't know how to show it.."

He could feel the veins popping out of his skull. He was going to blast him to the next state over, swear it. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here crying. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be here having a dilemma on whether he should ignore you and walk away because he can't handle his feelings or walk up to you and hold you til' you stop crying.

God damn it.

The moment you lowered your head to look down at your feet, he was there in an instant, one hand splayed against the small of your back with his other on the back of your head as he pushed you forward into his body, embracing you in a warm, burnt sugar and caramel scented embrace.

You inevitably froze, your light sobs immediately ceasing as your arms dropped to your sides.

He didn't know what he was doing, or why he was doing it.

That's a lie. He knew what he was doing and why, but he truly didn't feel like it because whenever you were around, his conscious and train of thought flew out the window.

"Dumbass, I never said I didn't like ya."

"So you do like me?"

"I guess."

"Is that a no?"

"Fuck, yes, I like you damn it."

"..."

"I KNEW IT!"

The both of you flinched with him immediately pulling away from you as his head snapped to glance over his shoulder only to find his, and now your group of friends all cheering and dancing.

He felt his blood begin to boil. What's going on? Did they put you up to this? He swore he was gonna–

"Please don't be mad.. it wasn't fully their idea.."

The moment he felt your arms wrapping around his waist from behind, all the anger and aggression immediately disappeared, leaving nothing but a blank expression.

The things you do to him would actually literally drive him up the wall. He swore it. Which is why he turned around in your grasp and placed a warm hand on the small of your back once more.

"You're so fuckin' lucky you're adorable."

"Awwww.."

"Mommy sounded so cute back then!"

"Hell– Uh.. 'Course she was."

You giggled, watching as your now husband and pro-hero Dynamite told your kids the story of how the both of fell in love.

"Was?"

"Is. She is adorable."

"That's what I thought."

#ao3 #fanfic #my writing #bnha #anime #oneshot #bakugou x reader #mha #fluff #high school #pro hero bakugou #soft reader #ship dynamics #crush #soft bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #female y/n #female reader

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lucysgraybird · 29 days

Note

Billy x female reader where she gets the same sickness as her mother and brother but she manages to survive and he takes her to their graves (yep long hours traveling) just to share that part of his past with her because he loves her and is glad she survived because he wouldn’t have bared another lose

hiiii this is so brutally late. im sorry. ive also adjusted a little because i wanted to write it but im so bad at writing travel and couldn't figure out a way to do it that didn't feel drawn out but i can do a part 2 if u want!!

warnings: dscs of death and illness

Billy feels like he's been living in a haze. First a haze of ignorance, pretending that he didn't recognize the wet, hacking sound of the coughs you muffled into your elbow, that the way your brow bloomed with dry heat didn't throw him back into the pit of being seventeen and curled around his mother's febrile form. Then a moment of clarity, like a bucket of ice dumped over his head, when the doctor touched his elbow and confirmed consumption. Finally, and he can't decide which stage he's hated most, a thick fog of despair and desperation, rimy water dripping from washcloths down his arm in twin trails to the sweat he's wiping from your forehead, trying to convince himself of minute drops in your dogged temperature. He nurses broth down your raw throat and prayers up his own, pleas to a God he might not believe in to just leave him with something good in this world and pleas to himself to believe that this time will be different.

And he might just make a return to church, because his calls are answered. Slowly, like a slug creeping to salt, you recover. Color fades from the pyretic spots high on your cheeks and returns to the rest of your face, you sleep through the night without a coughing fit tearing you awake. The brightness in your eyes starts to look more lively and less dazed, and eventually you're strong enough to stand and bathe. Billy helps you into the tub and then opts to sit outside the door -- close enough that his anxiety isn't spiking, that if something happens he can help, but far enough that you can regain some of the autonomy that is ripped away in illness.

He'll never quite figure out why he says this. Maybe it’s the dim candlelight, coaxing the world out of reality and into a dream, a place where anything that happens will stay forever locked somewhere out of time. Maybe it’s that he wants to pretend you have the kind of relationship that demands this honesty, because you've said “‘Til death do us part” and meant it and so he owes you his greatest love and his deepest fears. He'd give you the former without question, of course, but he's still practicing that the latter is an unavoidable sidecar to that kind of devotion.

"I thought you were going to die," he says, and his stomach immediately twists in shame. You're recovering still, and here he is making it about himself. When you don't say anything, surely listening in that tranquil, soft-eyed way that you somehow always managed, he continues.

"I wish you could've met my ma. She was...good, like you. At her core, that's all there was, this sturdy kindness that I never understood how she maintained. Sometimes she'd say that when good people died young, it meant that God thought that spirit belonged more in Heaven than on Earth, and I was so scared that he got...impatient again, with you, and I was so scared that..."

Silence for a moment, then your voice, still hoarse:

"I would've liked to meet her too. She must have been quite the woman, to have raised someone like you."

Billy snorts out a laugh. "Something like that."

There's the sound of sloshing, and Billy can see the way your spine curves in his mind's eye, chest pressed to your thighs and chin rested on your knee. He can hear the way the position stretches your neck in your voice when you speak.

"I'm not letting anyone take me away from you. I don't care how much I'm needed somewhere else, I need to be here with you. You make it easy to be this good, Billy. It isn't in spite of yourself that you always manage to find warmth; there isn't a fire I've found that...exists without stoking."

Tears prickle his eyes and his throat tightens so that the next deep breath he takes squeaks like his voice is dropping again. He can't bring himself to use the crackly tone he knows is the only one he can access now.

"We should visit your ma," you suggest. "Someone's gotta tell her what a wonderful young man she raised."

"Her grave is far," he manages, though the end of the sentence cracks and so does the dam, silent tears streaking his face. In all truth, it's not outrageously far, but he's been scared to visit. Scared to tell his ma who he's had to (chosen to?) become, scared she'll smell the gunsmoke that seems to cling to his hands and clothes and memories, scared she'll meet the ghosts that have become more like his shadow.

There's the patter of wet feet on the bathroom floor and he stands with the intention of making himself scarce by the time you emerge, leaving nothing but the pale ghost of his vulnerability on the floor outside the bathroom as proof of the wall that just crumbled there. He'll calm in bed until you're done bathing, and hope for your mercy in disregarding his momentary fragility. But the door clicks open and there you are in your nightgown. There you are with your skin scrubbed clean, you with your hair in the braid you wear to sleep. There you are with tears on your face, with your arms open to him like the Virgin Mary, offering a forgiveness that he doesn't deserve. The guilt of this will carve stigmata into his hands later, nailing him to the cross of his history, but for now he takes the pity and collapses into you.

"We'll start out tomorrow," you say, overcoming the awkward angle your height difference creates to pet his hair. "I'd like to meet her. We should bring her flowers."

#ehhhh . idk how i feel about this #(presses post)#tom blyth #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid hc #billy the kid x you #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney

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witchwyfe · 1 year

Text

let me down easy - jhs

I pairing: college jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female reader

I précis: you have a date and it’s not with jake :(

I content/warnings: college au, roommates to lovers (that haven’t gotten past the roommates stage yet), mentions of eating and food, mild jealousy, language

I word count: 1,001

I a/n: part of the roommate predicament !!!!

"What are you doing tonight? Do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

You freeze where you're unloading the dishwasher, purposely focusing in on Jake's "Beat Army" coffee mug--despite your hatred for the thing. anything related to the Navy is a reminder of your waning time together--so that you don't have to look at him.

"Uh, I think I'm doing something tonight." You mumble.

"With Natasha?" He wonders casually. "Y'all can hang here if you want."

"No, not with her." You clear your throat.

"Oh, okay."

"I'm," You swallow harshly, mentally grasping for words. You know you don't have to tell Jake anything, but you want to, hoping for some reason that maybe he'll stop you.

"I have a date." You say flatly.

Jake feels his heart plummet to his stomach, but he keeps his face neutral.

"Oh, that's nice." He smiles lightly. "Anyone I know or...?"

"I don't know." You say quietly. "His name's Brent, he's in a study group with me and Tash."

Jake is thinking that Brent is the most ridiculous name he's ever heard and brainstorming how he can join the study group for your marketing class when he's a physics major.

"Jake?"

"Huh?" He wonders, breaking out of his short daydream. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you knew him." You relay his full name to Jake again.

"No, I don't." He smiles tightly.

“Oh okay.” You smile. “He just asked if I wanted to hang out sometime and I figured, why not?”

You could actually think of a hundred reasons why not, and most of them center around the fact that you have a huge, lovesick, crush on your fucking roommate.

You haven't spoken to Jake since earlier in the afternoon. He'd gone into his room to work on homework so you'd just hung out until it was time to get ready for your date.

You’re just going to get drinks and you’re not very enthused with the plans—more like the person—so you don’t go over the top or anything. You come out into the kitchen in an old sundress, before pulling out a frozen pizza from the freezer.

“Jake!” You call out. “I’m making pizza, do you want any?”

He comes out of his room, smiling lightly at you. “Hey, sweet thing,”

“Hi.” You smile brightly at him. God how much you wish you were staying home with him instead. Jake, who actually gives you butterflies in your tummy, who makes you smile for real, and who already understands you so well, you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.

Jake’s smile at seeing you quickly drops when you turn. You’re wearing a pretty sundress, one that he’s never seen before and you’re going out with another guy. It’s not fair to you, he can’t expect you to never date anyone if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, but he doesn’t want to put you in the unfair position of rejecting him—because there’s no way you could ever feel the same.

"Did you want some pizza?” You wonder again. “I’m gonna heat this and I figured you’d be eating soon anyway.”

“Yeah sure, thank you.” He smiles. “You need any help?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

You and Jake eat the pizza together on the island, and he notices how often you check the time on your phone.

“What time do you have to leave?” He asks, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “You know, uh, for your date?”

“Oh,” You sigh as if you’d forgotten about it. “In like twenty minutes.”

“He’s not picking you up?”

“We’re meeting there.” Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment and you look down at your phone once again, using a piece of paper towel to wipe your greasy fingerprints from the surface.

You look at him again, pleading in your mind for him to do something, say something, anything to stop you from going. “You,” You clear your throat. “What are you up to tonight? Anything fun?”

He scratches the side of his head, tilting it as if he’s lost in thought. “Nah, probably not. Might grab a beer with Bradley or something.”

“That sounds fun!” You offer. You hate this. You hate how your usually easy and comfortable exchanges with Jake, feel awkward and dry. You decide that it’s because of how awkward you’re being, the pre-date jitters are taking over your ability to talk normally with your roommate and friend.

Nope, that’s definitely not it.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “You sure you don’t need a ride or anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine Jake.” You smile. “But thank you for thinking of me. S’sweet.”

“Of course.” A sick twinge of jealousy pulls in his stomach when he spots you checking the time again. His gaze softens when you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. A soft, albeit quick, breath huffs through your lips and he smiles, hiding it under the guise of a cough.

“I should probably go.” You speak up, setting your phone down.

He nods and watches as you go to your room. You grab your shoes and bag, holding back from releasing a scream into the plush of your pillow.

Jake follows you to the door to lock up, once you’ve collected your phone and the lip gloss you’d grabbed from the bathroom. Jake doesn’t even want to think about your pretty pink gloss being smeared over another guy’s lips. His jaw clenches at the thought.

“Alright, well I’ll see you later Jake.”

He nods, swallowing harshly, nerves clawing up his throat. “You uh, you look real pretty darlin’.” He drawls, pink sprinkling his cheeks and ears.

“Oh,” You look up, pleasantly surprised. Not that Jake isn’t always sweet to you, but the way that he’s looking at you feels different—more intimate and softer than usual—but you’re probably just imagining that because you’re projecting your own feelings. “Thank you, Jake.”

He smiles once again. “Have a good night. I’ll see you later.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin oneshot #jake seresin oneshot

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 10 months

Text

Angsty winter Ghoap drabble (god help me)

***

“Aye, it’s alright little one, Da’s here,” Johnny coos at the little girl, who just gurgles in her cot, arms outstretched. He reaches down to her and pulls her into his, her weight against his heart comforting, and Johnny can’t help but close his eyes, inhale, breathe.

Christmas is hard on Johnny, and the baby girl who settles easily against him, burrowing into her Da's chest, comforted by his familiar scent, is a reminder of why.

But…December is Johnny’s favourite month of the year. It’s Simon’s too.

Johnny sees him everwhere and in everything; the frozen pond on which they'd skate, the glittering lights of the tree that amuse the little one, makes her laugh her awkward baby laughs, the sound of the crackling fire that Simon would build every year. It's the sweetest torture.

Johnny tries his best to be happy for their little daughter's sake, it's her first birthday without one parent. Johnny builds snowmen with her, and makes her hot chocolate, and shows her the pretty lights on the big tree in the centre of town, but she's entirely like Simon in all the ways that matter. Even at just a year old, she can tell when her Da's not quite feeling it, and she wraps her tiny arms around his neck and falls asleep there.

Bedtime is the worst. Johnny hates bedtime. It's not the lack of heating that makes their bedroom the coldest room in the house. No, Johnny's convinced he's the one exuding the cold. It comes from the hollow place inside him, the walls of his heart that throb and ache with Simon's absence that he feels deep inside the marrow of his bones. During these nights that already feel like they don't end, Johnny finds that the silence deafens him.

Someone had to stay home with the wee one, and they'd both agreed that it would be Johnny.

And Johnny was proud of Simon. Insanely proud.

He'd found that sharing Simon with the 141 came easier to him than he would've expected, but neither of them had anticipated the first extension of Simon's deployment. Then the second. Then the third.

He's selfish.

His daughter misses her father.

He misses his husband.

And he feels the now-familiar hole in his chest throb.

***

His eyes never close, but morning comes anyway. He tries his hardest to force a smile on his face, prepares to play the part that his daughter requires of him.

It's Christmas morning.

He's not entirely surprised when his father greets him at his front door, telling him he has some last minute additions to make to the presents under the tree. Johnny's father spoils his little grand-daughter rotten, and Johnny doesn't mind at all.

He knows he misses Simon too, a man he'd accepted as his son all those years ago.

He busies himself by cleaning up after breakfast, but he is surprised to see his little daughter all dressed up in her out clothes. Complete with little skates in her grandfather's hands. She fusses, uses chubby hands to make clumsy little swipes and attempts to make a grab for it, but her grandfather just bounces her on his arm and boops her nose.

"Take 'er skatin,' son. She'll love it. Jus' like her Da."

Johnny figures there's nothing else left of his heart to break, so he does. He takes her skating.

The wind howls and whistles with a vengeance against their ears, but the wee one is distracted by the sight of the trees on their way - bright and glistening with snow and ice. Johnny's heart aches at the sight, wishing that Simon had been there to see what looks like one of the most beautiful Christmas mornings he's ever seen.

When he gets to the pond, the snow threatens to blind him, and he has to squint against it, briefly covering his eyes, but then Johnny he sees him.

Simon is there, skates strapped across his feet, gliding effortlessly on the frozen pond.

Johnny's hand goes automatically up to his chest in a movement of both shock and to soothe himself. He's imagined Simon before - sees him everywhere in December - but his hallucinations have never been so vivid before.

"Merry Christmas, Johnny," the ghost speaks, and Johnny swallows. Hard.

"Simon?"

"'M here, love."

When Simon's outstretched hand makes contact with Johnny's trembling fingers, it's gentle - sweet and warm and full of everything Johnny's been deprived of for months.

"For how long?" Johnny's whisper is pained, hating how much he needs to know. It's senseless and cruel to ruin the moment with the potential answer, but Johnny's always been the more selfish one.

Simon pulls him into his chest, and Johnny hears the sound he's missed most in the world. They cradle their daughter between them, and Simon places one hand on her back, while the other caresses Johnny's beard.

Simon steps forward to place his lips against Johnny's and whispers the words that he's wanted to say for years, the words that Johnny's wanted to hear for years.

"For always. It's over."

***

@glitterypirateduck: I listened to Winter Song by Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson too many times and then saw the ice skating fanart that valiants made and felt some angst winter thoughts rattling in my mind brain and LOST MY MIND IN THE PROCESS.

Bon apple tit!!!! No one ever look at me again!!!

#ghost x soap #simon riley x john mactavish #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #lumi writes #CODHOLIDAY2023 #simon riley fluff #soap mactavish fluff #soft dad simon riley #soft dad Johnny mactavish #ghostsoap

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himbosandhardwear · 9 months

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The first time Steve saw Eddie being a DM, it was because their session ran over the time Dustin said they'd be done, so Steve had gone inside the school to see what the holdup was. He could hear them yelling in the theater, clearly not finished, but Steve had never actually seen them play so he let his curiosity carry him inside. When he saw Eddie seated at the head of the table, at a literal throne, he snorted. It was so performative, holding court like a fucking king. Who the hell did he think he was?

The second time he got to see Eddie DMing was after Vecna, after his stay in the hospital, after the stress of it all waned and they were able to go back to a semi-normal life. Again, he was only there for the tail end of it, but because they were nearly finished he got to watch Eddie standing tall this time, still performing but captivating in his monologue. Steve stayed and watched the whole thing.

This third time, he knows something has fundamentally changed. He's sitting in the corner, on the sofa in Mike Wheeler's basement, trying not to drool and failing. Eddie is just sitting there, watching the Party argue over defensive strategies, but this time Steve has seen what he'd missed the first time: Eddie isn't performing his authority. He might look relaxed, all loose limbed on his throne, fingers steepled against his lips, eyes slowly tracking the progress, but Steve has now seen how Eddie can quell them with a look. He can control the narrative with one word. Gentle or sharp, he rules the table.

It's the sexiest thing Steve has ever seen. He's breathless with it. He can hardly remember why he thought Eddie sprawled out on that throne at the highschool was ridiculous. The space between Eddie's thighs right now is begging for Steve's shoulders to wedge right in.

He feels crazed with it. Thank god the basement is poorly lit and he's tucked into the dark, because he's pretty sure he looks like a flasher hiding in the bushes.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking but he thinks maybe Eddie would be receptive to Steve hitting on him. He's been thinking about the day a few weeks back, when they'd been fixing up Hop’s cabin and he'd caught Eddie staring at him. It wasn't overt or anything but Steve did have his shirt off and had been wiping sweat off his face with his forearm. Maybe it was nothing. But the more he has to sit and watch Eddie throw his metaphorical weight around, the more blood is leaving his brain and traveling south. So, yeah, he's gonna go for it.

The kids let out a wild cry, jumping and hollering like monkeys, and Steve figures now is his chance. They're all busy celebrating and packing up so no one notices Steve sliding past them toward Eddie's chair. Eddie does, he watches Steve approach until Steve moves behind him.

He bends low, tucks himself right up against Eddie's ear and whispers, “Any chance you'd wanna break into the highschool with me?”

Eddie turns his head enough to whisper back. “Maybe. Why?”

He places a hand on the back of Eddie's chair, the other sinks down until he can get ahold of Eddie's thigh. “Because I've got this fantasy involving you and your old Hellfire throne and I wanna see if we can make it happen.”

He's never been more smooth, he's so proud of himself, but of course Eddie has to ruin it by jumping and bashing his knees into the underside of the table. He stares up at Steve like Steve has told him he's under arrest.

“Are you fucking with me?”

He stares back. “No.”

Eddie looks him over. Steve lets him.

He finds himself being pulled by the wrist and yanked across the room.

“Nobody touch my shit!” Eddie yells as they rush upstairs. “I'll be back for it later.”

They don't make it to the highschool but the back of Eddie's van is a decent second choice.

#ive started five different steddie fics in the last month #none of them are finished #im just thankful this was short #jfc #steddie #ficlet #i got the brainrot #my writing

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epic-kotlc-crossover · 4 days

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The Horse and the Infant

This is the first chapter for the EPIC/KOTLC crossover!! (I know we did the thunder saga already but we had a lot of motivation for that and were really excited to post :D) Hope you guys enjoy!!

taglist: @justalunaticfangirl @myfairkatiecat @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @ham-cheese-toastie

This was it, Fitz told himself. He glanced around the wooden horse at his fleet.

One last battle before he could go home, and one last battle before he could see Sophie and Marella again. Marella would be ten by now—it seemed almost crazy to think about.

"Alright, everyone!" He transmitted to the crowd of 600 men, thinking that talking would reveal their position. "Tonight, the Trojans will regret ever messing with us."

Fitz gestured to Keefe. "Your families are wondering where you've been. Do as I say and you'll see them again."

"Yessir!" The chorus of soldiers whispered as one, and Fitz grinned broadly, the dim lighting making it seem almost mad.

As he was sending out his instructions, Fitz let himself feel happy for one more moment—the war was almost over.

As the crowd dispersed, Fitz sent out a chant: "What do you live for? What do you fight for? What do you wish for?"

Sophie....

That was why he was doing all of this—for Sophie and Marella.

I'll fight for them. Fitz thought firmly.

"Attack!" He roared, and charged into the city, following his men.

Fitz was in the thick of the battle, screams and shouts mixing with the clash of his sword against his opponent's. All at once, his vision dimmed and he collapsed.

An clap of thunder boomed, and when Fitz opened his eyes, he wasn't in Troy anymore. Fitz glanced around, panic clogging his throat.

He seemed to be in the ruins of a city, and upon closer inspection, and a jolt of horror, he realized it was his kingdom. Ithaca.

What had happened? In the ten years he'd been gone, could everything have gone into shambles?

He couldn't—he had to find his men. Fitz needed to help them. They had to win this battle, but how could they do that when Fitz couldn't be with them?

How could he save Ithaca?

As he turned around one last time, a figure appeared. With a huge crackling lightning bolt, the person standing before him could only be Zeus. And, Fitz noticed with confusion, a baby swaddled in his right arm. Maybe he was finally doing child support?

"What was that?" His voice came out shaky, because he just realized that the wound in his side was gone-and so was the pain.

"A vision." Zeus' voice boomed, loud and deep, across the space. "Of what is to come. You can only change it right now."

Fitz didn't even pause before replying, "Tell me how?" His crew needed him, and he wouldn't be any use to them dead.

He wouldn't be any use to Ithaca dead.

Plus, he had to see Sophie.

A rumble of laughter erupted from Zeus. "I don't think you're ready." The god told Fitz.

Fitz bristled, offended but stayed silent as Zeus continued. "You'll need to kill someone's son, someone unlike anyone you've faced before."

Fitz straightened, ready to accept. "I can do this, I promise you."

Once again there was laughter-one that started to annoy Fitz deeply—and Zeus stepped forward and placed the baby in his arms.

Fitz looked down in horror. He couldn't mean—

"This is the son of Prince Hector. If you don't kill him now, he will grow up to kill you." Zeus paused. "If you don't kill him now, you'll have no home to protect."

Fitz shook his head wildly, and stumbled back, trying to think of what to do.

He could take him home with him—Sophie wouldn't mind, he was sure of it.

Fitz could sent the infant far, far away, where he could never find out about his father.

"You'll have blood on your hands either way, Fitz." The god told him, almost like he was reading Fitz's mind. "All you have to do is choose."

#epic the musical #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #fitz vacker #odysseus

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avatar-anna · 2 years

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Better Man

just a little angst about better man (taylor's version)!

Sometimes in the middle of the night I can feel you again, but I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man.

You knew letting him past the front door was a bad idea, but you didn't always have the strongest resolve, especially when it came to your ex.

Harry was laying on the other side of your bed, his back turned to you as he slept soundly on familiar sheets. You should've been asleep, but it didn't come. So you stayed awake, staring at Harry's back as it rose and fell. You admired his broad shoulders, the constellation of freckles all over, the birthmark. It was a familiar canvas, but it wasn't yours anymore. Him being here didn't change that.

"I can feel you staring," Harry mumbled, words pushed together like he was still half asleep.

"Sorry," you said before turning over.

There were only a few beats of silence before you heard sheets rustling as Harry shifted and draped an arm across you. The scent of his cologne was dizzying as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Out with it then," he said, sounding a little more awake.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I know you, Y/n. You sleep like the dead unless something is on your mind."

He was right, of course, but that was part of the problem. He knew you too well.

"I just…miss you, that's all."

And God did you miss him. Harry was…well, you thought he was everything. For years, the two of you were inseparable, so incredibly in sync with each other. Harry brought out the best in you, made you comfortable in your own skin. He made you feel seen and taken care of and loved.

Until he didn't.

Breaking up with Harry was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It was messy, he didn't see it coming—which was another problem of its own—there were periods where you would somehow end up sleeping in each other's homes for days at a time afterwards, and the periods when those days ended felt soul crushing. Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself. Harry loved you, that was never a question. He just…he wasn't what you needed anymore.

"I miss you too. Constantly," he said. "But you don't have to, you know. Miss me. I've always been right here."

You kissed his arm. "I know, but we broke up for a reason, Harry."

He sighed, because he never could grasp why things ended, he couldn't figure out why you would ever want to leave him. As much as you loved each other, you were on different pages, wanted different things, became different people—or rather, he changed and you stayed the same. Harry was at a point in his career where the whole world was at his fingertips, and he wanted it too, wanted to reach and reach and reach. You didn't blame him for that, he was good at what he did, out of this world. But he'd made promises before, when he was just yours. When the world called, he changed his mind, and he wanted you to change yours with him.

Part of you knew that perhaps he'd made those promises out of fear of losing you, that he wasn't the type to believe in a simple kind of love. It always had to be more with Harry. And perhaps he wasn't aware, but you knew it was because he was afraid of love, of letting people see the worst parts of him along with the best. You knew that and fell in love with him anyway. He would be the one to break your heart but you let him do it happily.

"I love you. Can't that be enough?"

You did your best to hide a sniffle. "I wish it was, but something has always held you back from me," you said, your thumb running along his arm. "I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve."

"Then why keep letting me in?"

"Because you're a hard man to say no to, Harry Styles," you laughed, but it was more sad than humorous. Even as you talked about being apart, all you wanted to do was pull him even closer. In a lot of ways, Harry still felt like home. You were safe right there in bed wrapped up in him. "And despite my best efforts, I'm still in love with you."

Harry sighed and pulled you closer to his chest. "I want you. I can't even think about anyone else. It makes no sense for us to be broken up when we both want the same thing."

"But we don't," you said. "You want me on the sidelines cheering you on with no ambitions of my own."

"That's not—"

"You want me to watch while others throw themselves at you and pretend like it's fine because it's all for show. You want me to be another trophy in your collection, Harry, and I—I'm so much more than that."

You twisted around to face him, only to find that there were tears lining his eyes. You hated seeing him cry. It always twisted your gut into a tight knot.

"Is that really what you think of me?" he asked, sounding hurt, betrayed.

"You told me you loved me, that you wanted me in your life, but I was never a part of it," you said.

Harry had promised that nothing would ever change, that he only wanted to take on the world if he had you by his side. And you believed him at first, but somehow you'd fallen to the wayside. He left you to fend for yourself at parties with people you didn't know, took on more opportunities and projects that kept him and you apart for longer periods of time, going out almost every night and sleeping through the day, leaving you such little time alone with him. Sometimes it felt like the only way to see him was in an interview or music video.

And the moments when you had him all to yourself were perfect. He was completely and totally yours. He doted on you, took you on dates, made you breakfast in bed. He made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, and in those moments, you knew he loved you, that he would never be tempted by anyone else. Harry really was yours, you could feel it with every cell of your body.

But those moments were fleeting. He was gone for longer periods of time, and you didn't know how to make him understand that you needed him to stay longer than the few days off he got while touring. For a long time, those stolen moments were enough, until they weren't anymore. Harry stayed away longer, and you felt him slipping. The hand you had wasn't a winning one, so you folded before he could break your heart. Well, more than breaking up with him did.

This wasn't a life together, it was just his, and you were along for the ride.

"I wanted to build a life for us. I wanted to make myself into someone you would be proud of," he said.

Your smile was sad as you threaded a hand through his hair. "I've never not been proud of you. You've always been enough, H, I don't know why you've never seen it."

To say Harry was complicated was an understatement. Even when you met he had his fair share of demons. But everyone did, and you loved him as he was. As he began to gain notoriety, he began reinventing himself, to be someone that was loved by everyone. You knew who he was was enough, but you couldn't get through to him, he needed validation from the world. Once you realized how deep that insecurity was rooted, you knew you couldn't fix him, he needed to do it himself. And you deserved someone who wasn't so obsessed with seeking approval from others that they overlooked the people that loved them most.

"All I ever wanted was to give you the world," he whispered, his gaze trained on where your hand was still on his cheek.

"All I ever needed was you," you replied, moving your hand to rest it over his heart. "I'd like to believe that the man I met so many years ago is in there somewhere, but I can't count on waiting to see him again. I—I'm not going to put myself in a position to make you choose when I know what your choice would be."

You didn't really believe that fame was something that would ever change Harry, but it did. Or it preyed on his deepest insecurities, and he let it happen. You loved him, and it hurt to see him so broken, especially when he didn't even seem to realize it, but you couldn't hold his hand while he untangled his messes anymore.

"I love you," he said again. "I have never stopped loving you."

"I have seen every facet of who you are, and I've never loved you less, flaws and all," you said, and it was true. Despite everything, Harry was a hard person not to love, and there were moments where he made you feel like you were more important to him than anything else in his life. The secret smiles and stolen kisses and songs that were made just for you. He was the kind of person that burned so brightly, but that also meant he cast just as big a shadow, and those shadows could be all-consuming. "You're a good man, Harry. I just…I think I just deserve better than you."

Harry didn't argue with you about it. He didn't try to contradict you or give you a list of reasons why you should be together. He just hung his head and held you close, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. You let yourself rest your cheek against his chest, his skin warm and familiar. It felt so right to be there, you couldn't fathom anyone else feeling as good as Harry did. Maybe no one ever would.

Wrapped up like this, your eyes grew heavy, and it became harder and harder to stay awake. Harry hadn't fallen asleep yet, you could tell just by the erratic beat of his heart against your cheek. Moving your head just to the side, you kissed him right there, right where his heart laid beneath his chest. Your heart squeezed, as if it knew this was the last time you would be letting Harry through your front door.

Turning your head to the side once more, you let yourself fall asleep on his chest, a couple tears slipping past your tired eyes.

Still awake, Harry ran a hand through your hair, letting the silky soft strands fall through his fingers. "I can be better," he whispered. Not to you, but to himself. "I'll be better. I promise."

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #Spotify

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