#he's my favorite asshole piece of shit

[thedocs-in]

Brit is really Cecil's closest friend

These two are my BroTP. Like from what's shown in the comics, these two are fairly close. Given that Brit has been shown numerous times, along with his sister, calling Cecil old man. And teasing him. I really hope they include Brit and his sister. Like please, give me.

Now without further ado, the headcannons:

When Cecil joined the GDA, he was a cocky little shit. As a new recruit he was probably thinking high and mighty of himself until a drill Sergent, or better yet Brit, kicked his ass proving him wrong.

And when he first met Brit, Brit immediately thought, "This little shit is gonna get himself killed or his ass kicked."

Though, tbh I'm leaning more towards it being Brit who kicked his ass, which was a reality check for Cecil. Considering Brit can't be hurt.

Brit has saved Cecil’s ass on numerous occasions. Like, they've done some missions together, but they didn't really become friends until one mission where Brit saved his ass. Obviously pre-scar.

After that, Cecil began to tolerate Brit a lot more and their friendship grew.

Brit has both encouraged Cecil's urge to beat people who deserve it and had to hold him back when he gets out of hand.

Like when they'd go drinking, Brit is very much the designated adult. And has had to stop Cecil from starting something with some idiot who deserved to have their ass kicked.

There has probably been at least one incident where Brit had to keep Cecil from getting arrested.

But outside of that, Brit teased Cecil a lot. And obviously still does. With Brit messing with him often, like taunting him with the photos he took of Cecil reading a Playboy.

Brit still has those photos and continues to remind him about them to this day.

And there are plenty of embarrassing photos of Cecil that Brit still has. And Cecil has told Brit that if he shows anyone else, he will try and find a way to kick his ass. Or get back at him with the embarrassing photos he has of Brit.

But Brit is truly one of Cecil's closest friends. A confidant. Like, he considers several people friends, like Donald or Nolan. But they aren't as close to him as Brit is.

They are quite literally ride or die.

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Tbh the main reason I stopped writing for Harry Potter was prior to the big controversy surrounding Rowling, it was because of all the fandoms whose average writing I never cared much for, the HP fandom had a lot of...how do I put this

A lot of "He would not fucking say that" writing lol. My least favorite forms of fic is when writers take characters and either AU-ify the shit out of it until it might as well be an original story, or take characters and sugarcoat the hell out of them. I get why people like them, but seeing stuff like Tom Riddle being a loving supportive boyfriend getting chocolate frogs for a reader on her period and other stuff of that nature just makes me retch. And that specific uwu-ification is so rampant in HP likely due to how long its been around and it being a lot of people's first fandom. So I just avoided writing for it apart from a single Deviantart fic a long ass time ago lol.

Obviously this isn't true of every HP writer and I know there is a lot of quality work written for that fandom and has been for years, but the majority of it is very fandom-y and just isn't my scene.

[faexoxoxoxo]

ᴵ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ...

SUMMARY: when people ask how you met satoru, your response would be “at a club,” and while he'd smile and nod along in agreement, there was much more to the story…

PAIRING: bartender! gojo satoru x actress! reader

TW: 18+, masturbation, obsessive satoru...

A/N: part of my bartender gojo series but can be read as a stand alone, mostly satoru being a lil creepy shit... I mean fanboy!

It all started with a magazine...

During his proud bachelor days, Satoru had been a faithful subscriber to various porn sites and magazines. It wasn't that he had any problems with finding women to satisfy his needs; on the contrary, women at the club were obsessed with him.

One charming grin paired with a wink was enough to get anyone flushed and ready to drop their panties for Gojo Satoru. It was all just way too easy, and with the lack of challenge, eventually he lost interest in hooking ups.

Now, this particular magazine was one of his all-time favorites, so imagine the dismay when instead of receiving the usual erotic magazine, he found the latest issue of Vogue delivered to his doorsteps. A simple error on the mailman's part, and further proof to Satoru, that one simply couldn't find good service anymore.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Sighing with disdain, Satoru flipped through the pages. “Boring, boring, boring…” He muttered, preparing to dump the magazine in the trash. With his flawless skin and exceptional looks, what did he need this for!?

Just as he was about to toss it away, a particular image caught his eye - it was a picture of you.

Nothing much about the ad was special, except for you. Who'd been featured prominently, wearing a two-piece swimsuit and, holding up a bottle of sunscreen, with a charming smile that screamed, “Buy this.” clever sales tactic, using a pretty girl like you to promote products, and god, you were pretty. 

Satoru could feel his heartbeat pick up as he studied your face; the cheery red lipstick enhanced your features, he was hooked, and the growing tent in his pants further served as evidence of just how much.

Turns out Vogue wasn't so boring after all…

“Hmmm...” he moaned softly, sliding his hands down his sweatpants to massage his growing hard on, his eyes fixated on the outline of your curves, the way the blue bikini clung onto your tits, and how the pantie strings were tied in a cute little ribbon. It'd be so easy for him to rip the flimsy fabric off you...

“Fuck.” Satoru groans, squeezing the tip of his pre-dripping cockhole. He wasn't going to last long tonight...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Getting you out of his brain proved to be impossible. Your face was always there in the back of his mind during whatever mundane tasks he'd been doing. In the shower, eating breakfast, at work, heck, even his dreams weren't safe, you'd wormed your way in them with the same kissable lips and sweet smile; it was like he was back to being a teenager boy with a puppy crush.

Two weeks after failing to distract himself, his resistance cracked, and he looked up your name online.

You were an actress...

That was the first thing Satoru learned. Not yet a household name, but a rising star nonetheless, with a decent amount of people seeming to enjoyed your works.

The second thing he found after obsessively scrolling through your social media accounts was that you had a boyfriend, Naoya Zenin. Now that was a name Satoru was familiar with—the regular VIP asshole at one of his clubs.

Lips twisting into a disgruntled frown, he stares at a recently posted picture of you with Naoya. What did you even see in this punk? He was an egoistical little shit...

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

The following evening, Satoru sat down to watch the very first movie you had a leading role in, a typical light hearted rom-com. in it you'd played the role of a clumsy assistant, oblivious to the fact that your boss had a crush on you.

Dispute the predictable plot, Satoru couldn't bring himself to turn it off; his eyes locked onto your every expression as it shifted from serious to flustered during the romantic scenes. You were good Satoru admired despite not having much experience then, you obviously had versatility.

As the movie's plot advanced, so did the romance; simple handholding turned into kissing and making out...

Every time the camera zoomed in on you and your costar, Satoru gritted his teeth, a bitter taste raised to the back of his mouth, watching as you moaned into another man's lips. It was absurd, irrational, and he didn't even know you, so where was this anger coming from!? Why did he wish it was him on screan kissing you instead!? Why did his want to punch the fucker for touching you!?

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

Safe to say, Satoru never watched any more of your works in the romantic genre again; his heart couldn't handle seeing you with another man...

What he did watch were interviews; he'd spent hours getting through every single one from the time of your debut, memorizing all of your preferences, from your favorite color to how many kids you wanted to the most used brand of perfume, shampoo and lotion.

He even bought a batch of perfume for himself, spraying it on his pillows and sheets, and using the lotion as lube whenever he'd fucked his fists to your pictures.

Eventually He'd lost count of the nights he spent lazily stroking his aching cock and imagining it was your little hands, or pretty lips on him ... those fantasies always ended with his cum splattered on his abs and the sheets. Not that Satoru minded the mess; he just wished he could have you there with him instead, longing to know how it'd feel to stuff your tight holes full of his cum...

Soon enough, his phone's wallpaper changed from the blank blue to a picture of you from your photoshoot for Vogue; he even hung a few posters of you in his closet, a little shrine dedicated to his one and only.

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° .

It took some time for Satoru's best friends to notice his twisted obsession with you.

Shoko was the first one to point out how unhealthy it was, “At this rate you'll end up becoming a stalker, and getting charged for harassment.” she'd stated after finding out about his little collection.

“Just fuck a couple of chicks and get over this one, buddy.” Suguru advised, not knowing of his blue-eyed friend's various failed attempts at doing just that.

Satoru had tried to fuck someone.

The girl was one of his regular clients, tall, slim, hot, and pretty confident. She'd flirted with him a couple of times, and he'd indulged in it, thinking, why not?

He took her to dinner and had a fancy hotel room picked out just for the occasion. But when he finally had her in bed, he couldn't go through with it. She felt wrong; her eyes weren't the same shade as yours, her laugh wasn't like yours, and the way she talked annoyed him, so he left.

He'd tried this a few more times with different women, but it always ended the same.

The closest he'd come to getting his dick wet was in his private room in the back of the club. She had the same hair color as yours, and Satoru thought if he'd pretend hard enough, she could be you.

But then he made the mistake of moaning out your name instead of Sasha, or was it Simona ? ... well, he didn't remember, but whoever she was had left him with a harsh reality check, and a red slap mark on his face.

So He stopped trying after that.

The next woman Satoru fucked would be you or no one else. Sure, you had a boyfriend; sure, you didn't know he existed, and sure, there was a chance you never would, but he was convinced, with enough money and time, you would find your way to him.

Until then, Satoru would spend his nights imagining what it'd be like if he could get a chance to show you just how perfect he was for you, and pretending like you were his all the damn time . . .

✎⁠ I'm trying to get out of my writing slump so hopefully this was a good start (ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) asks are open for feedback and ideas so feel free to send me thoughts <333

✎⁠ likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated ♡

✎ the dividers are from @chachachannah header is from @chromesaine on pinterest

[selineram3421]

*writing down taglist* Dodadoo, that's a lot.

Hissy Kitty

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warning!⚠

⚠ cussing, bold italics = sound affects, italics = thoughts, catnip, cat demon reader doing cat things, hehe ⚠

Husk stared with a scowl behind the bar at the red deer demon standing a little too close to you.

Its been a week and that piece of shit would not stop touching you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, and even patting you on the head. The last part he's seen the asshole do more often after noticing you purr at the action.

"You've done a wonderful job! I know Niffty appreciates the extra help.", the Radio Demon grinned.

"Are we going to do anything about the ripped up wallpaper?", you asked, looking at one of the lobby walls with peeling wallpaper.

"Don't worry about those. I'll take care of them soon.", the red demon waved it off and pat your head.

Purrrrprrrrrr

"Hands off you slimy fuck!", he threw a bottle at the deer.

Alastor easily dodged and made a tsk noise of disappointment.

"Honestly Husker, you must stop throwing bottles."

You just crossed your arms and sighed. "I'll take my break now."

Husk brought out a cup and a bottle onto the counter, opening it up and waiting for you to notice what drink it was. Not a second later you gravitated towards the bar with dilated pupils.

"Is that..", you mumbled, staring straight at the bottle.

"That's right."

The cat demon flipped off the deer, who was already walking up to the both of you.

"And what is this beverage?", he asked, tapping his fingers on the bar counter.

"Its my favorite.", you whispered, still staring at the bottle. "Husk, hurry up and pour the damn drink."

Your brother chuckled and poured the liquid into the cup, watching in amusement as you snatched it once he lifted the bottle back up.

"Enjoy you gremlin.", he said while putting away the bottle.

The cup was empty a second later.

Alastor was curious.

What is that? Why did the drink have their full attention like that? What a funny reaction.

"Can I have another?", you asked.

"No.", Husk said without a beat, cleaning the cup you used.

"Awwwwwwww!", you whined and rested your head on the counter. "Pleeeeeeeeaaase?"

"No."

Alastor felt his eye twitch at your pouting face.

"I don't see a problem with having another drink.", the deer commented.

You perked up immediately and looked over to the red dressed demon, ears pointing towards him and Husk's ears going back.

"I'm saying no for a reason.", Husk warned.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and had his shadow retrieve the bottle.

"I'll take care of whatever problems they cause.", he laughed and swiped the cup from the cat, pouring another drink. "Sound fair?"

"I'm gonna need that in writing."

In writing? He thought placing the filled cup on the counter. Why would that be necessary?

"Surely nothing bad could happen.", he laughed the bartender's concern off and looked towards the cup, only to find it empty.

Alastor looked towards where you were standing and also found that spot empty.

"Better start running deer boy.", Husk said taking the cup. "They have a knack for causing all kind of hell."

Before the Radio Demon could ask what the cat meant, there was a shout from the kitchen.

"WHO ATE ALL OF MA POTATO SALAD!?"

.

Alastor quickly wrote up a small deal, promising to take care of any problem you might cause while under the influence of the strange beverage.

There's nothing too serious. He thought as he went walking around the hotel to find you. Just minor little things like eating Angel's potato salad and scratching up some couches.

He walked into a common room.

Nothing too bad.

CRASH

Both of you made eye contact after you pushed a cup off of the table you were perched on.

"Dear, I'd advise you not to make anymore mess. I'll have to clean it up later."

Ignoring him, you slowly pushed another glass.

"No.", he said in a warning tone.

You stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing.

"Oh for the love of-", he sighed as the other glass broke. "Fine. Let's do something about your current state.", he walked over to you.

It didn't even take a second for you to shift into a full on cat and dart out of the room.

Now I see what Husker meant.

"This is going to take a while."

Husk watched with a smug grin and took a sip from his bottle.

"No! Get down from there!", the Radio Demon ran over to the middle of the lobby.

You were on the chandelier.

"Oh yeah, they like tall places.", Husk pointed out.

"What in the devil was in that drink?", Alastor said, trying to use his tendrils to get you down.

All you did was swat and paw at the dark things. Moving out of the way and scratching.

"It's catnip tea."

There was a record scratch.

Alastor felt his eye twitch at how obvious it was.

"Figures."

The cat demon felt a little better that he got you to be a problem for the deer. Maybe after this the smiling fuck would leave you alone. Then he'd finally get some peace.

"Husk? What the fuck is going on?", Vaggie walked over, gesturing to what was happening in the lobby.

"Nothing much, just my sibling giving the deer a hard time.", he responded.

There was a crash.

The chandelier having fallen and you running off again.

"Damn!", the red demon snapped his fingers, bringing up some creatures to clean up the mess before going after you.

"Can I watch?"

"Be my guest."

The two watched as the deer demon chased you around the hotel. Trying and failing at getting a good hold on you. After a few hours, Husk and Vaggie left, having been satisfied with all the random shit you did to keep the smiling demon occupied.

Alastor, having run around the hotel all day was tired and had his shadows chase you instead.

Walking over to the couch with the least amount of scratches, he sat down with a tired sigh and leaned back into the cushions.

"Never again.", he told himself.

There were growls and hissing coming from the other side of the lobby, no doubt you scratching the shadows that tried to grab you.

"Do be gentle, there can't be any fur out of place.", Alastor told the shadows as he rubbed the side of his head.

I'll have to go over our original deal later. He thought about the first contract he had Husker sign.

It got quiet for a moment and he saw that you had torn apart his shadows.

"How did you do that?", he asked as you trotted over and jumped up on the couch.

Even now you were still a little cat, fully embracing your cat side.

"You are a menace, you know that?", he said to you, watching as you 'made biscuits' on one of the pillows.

I didn't know you could cause such chaos. Though you did end up in Hell so that should have said something. He thought and leaned his head back, closing his eyes from being tired and up all day.

Then he felt a weight on his lap.

Snapping his eyes open and looking down, he found you resting like a loaf of bread.

"All I had to do was sit down..", he said annoyed before just giving up. "Alright, alright. You have the honor of besting the Radio Demon."

You were comfortable, eyes closed and adjusting just a bit before staying put.

Such a calm thing when they aren't running about. He thought and started to pet your head, which had you purring immediately.

"You know, I never liked dogs. And with you I can see myself being a cat person."

His hand was yanked back by the wrist.

"You better get your fucking hands off of them!", Husk yelled. "They aren't your fucking pet. This is your last warning."

You had run off and hid from the barking cat.

"They had just settled down.", Alastor said and turned to look at your brother, pissed. "￦h¥ wθμ|d y¤U rμ¡n +h@t?"

"Oh calm your ass down.", Husk took out a bell and dropped it, letting it roll on the floor.

You pounced on it and started messing with the ringing ball.

"You think I don't know how they act? I spent years taking care of them before officially becoming an overlord."

"This would have been useful information earlier.", the deer snatched his hand back.

The cat demon rolled his eyes and went to pick you up along with the ball before turning back to look at his boss.

"I just wanted to see you annoyed.", Husk smiled, walking over to the stairs to take you to your room.

"And stop touching them. Read our fucking contract you dumbass. You're not supposed to lay a hand on anyone I genuinely care about."

Alastor stayed for a moment longer before shadow traveling to his hotel room, going over to his desk and rummaging through it for the contract.

"Where is the blasted old thing.", he mumbled, going through his papers before remembering he could snap it into his hands. "Looks like I really am tired."

He did just that and looked over the contract, skimming through it until he reached the part about protection.

"No touching, holding, dancing or any unnecessary physical contact with any demon I, The Gambling Demon, deem important enough to care about. This includes any blood relatives still alive in Hell."

The Radio Demon laughed.

What a clever cat.

"Let's see where I can find a loophole.", he grabbed a pen to take notes.

Let the game begin.

If you asked to be added but don't find your name in the taglist, please let me know through messages. I'll try to tag you again, and if it still doesn't work then I'll send you updates through messages.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @scary-noodlesblog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

[cherubfae]

Omg hi! I'm a new follower and I just read your piece of the hazbin cast w/ reader having a panic attack and it was so sweet 🥺If possible could you maybe do the same cast of characters but with what they would do if the reader was on their period/period comfort?

Awww, thank you! yes!! Of course!! ☺️💘✨

taking care of you on your period || hazbin x reader

With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, and Vox

tags: fluff, comfort, afab gn!reader, I decided to go with ftm for angel in this to try it out (lmk what you think!!) :3, periods in Hell are worse than on Earth I feel like that fits, suggestiveness in luci's || Minors don't interact!

Alastor

"Oh, dear, why are you curled up on the floor in the fetal position? Are you hurt? I smell blood." Alastor coos in crackling static. He nods his head, listening to you explain despite you being facedown in said carpet. He'll procure a hot water bottle for your tummy, some aspirin, and some bitter, dark chocolate. He'll even go get one of those sugary iced coffees you love so much. Given the circumstances, Alastor may even allow you to touch his ears, but his mindful of his antlers if you know what's good for you.

Lucifer

Oh no, his poor sweetheart! The King of Hell goes full Mama Goose mode (you can see where Charlie gets it from) and hunts down whatever he thinks you may need. He'll create a little nest fort for you, spooning you from behind and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He's also not opposed of other ways of relief. In Lucifer's own wise words, "Bow-chick-a-wow-wow." (As long as you're up for it, he's not opposed to giving Charlie a sibling.)

Charlie

She's on it instantaneously! Running around scavaging all sorts of items from tampons to pads to candies-- she's not sure of your preferences, so she gets all of them! Only the best for her sweetie pie!! Huddles extraaaa close to you in your shared blanket cocoon, feeding you chocolates and giving you sweet nuzzles.

Vaggie

Immediately sends you off for a hot bath while she changes and washes the sheets so that they're nice, warm, and fresh. She also will prepare your favorite pajamas and snacks, digging through some films for one to watch. Vaggie will do what she can to make sure you're well-rested, hydrated, and most importantly; comfortable.

Husk

Immediately goes to the women of the hotel and asks about what sort of toiletries the hotel has to offer. He's discreet about your situation and grateful for their help. He wants you to feel better as soon as possible even if that means your symptoms haven't fully gone away yet! The scent of blood is strong on you and if he can notice you from a mile away, he's certain others have too. So, he creates a little nest for you two, the bar is closed down for the day, and cuddles you close to his chest.

Angel Dust

He'll spoon you from behind, resting his warm hand on your tummy. From what Cherri has told him, this shit's worse than when you guys were alive. Hell really does have a hard-on for torturing people. Angel will be as vigilant as he can, getting you whatever you may need, reassuring you gently that just because you have your period doesn't change who you are as a person nor how you idenitify. You're you, no matter what your body does or doesn't do.

Vox

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

What's that? Oh, shit, that's when you-- yeah? Oh, okay got it. That sounds like that sucks. Yeah, he doesn't mind grabbing some things for you but he's a bit stiff when it comes to comfort. He knows what it is for sure and he'll do his best. Velvette might tear him a new asshole. He does genuinely want you to feel better, he doesn't like seeing you in pain. He's just a little lost.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

[reikissu]

❥･• kaedehara kazuha and wanderer dating hcs.

a/n: might be ooc, i’ll try my best to edit it and make it more accurate to their character huhu

ꔛ genre: fluff, romance

ꔛ reader: gender neutral

ꔛ warnings: corny stuff, cursing

my, you're a lucky one to be the paramour of kaedehara kazuha.. because life is about to change.

he's swift as the wind, with just his way of words and voice.. he can make you turn flustered in a matter of minutes.

with just a call, you feel as if you're on cloud 9.

"dearest, may you come here?" "huh? uh sure...! (⌯❛௦❛⌯)" then he asks why your cheeks are red HAHA

his petnames for you are like a sweet flavor to his tongue, calling you out by using his petnames makes him feel warm.

he calls you dearest, dear and love. they vary in different days when he chooses one.

his love language is definitely gifts and physical touch, he loves writing poems and giving it to you, since you are his inspiration of the poems he gives to you.

and they turn out to be so romantic that you start giggling while reading it, after all.. it is all about you and he wrote it full-heartedly.

everytime it’s autumn, he would bring you to a cliff where the trees are in view, sitting next to you as you both behold the sight of the maple leaves flowing along with the wind.

he would take one leaf and put it behind your ear as an accessory, "you look beautiful, my love." he says as he gives a soft smile. 🤭

as i also mentioned, his other love language is physical touch. he likes to feel your soft skin against his, he'll kiss you, hug you, hold your hand.. anything that’s comfortable with you.

on certain occasions he would hold your hand, whenever you both are alone of course.. wouldn’t want anyone prying on your moments with kazuha, no?

he would share his experiences when he traveled with beidou or by himself, it would always have interesting events happening in them. so it’s very entertaining to listen to.

HE DEF KNOWS HOW TO SEW, because i hc that when tomo had rips on his clothes, kazuha would fix them. so kazuha would gift you handmade clothes, handkerchiefs, scarfs… you name it, and it will always be in your favorite color. “Ah, shit! My sleeve ripped!” “Mm? Oh, give me the top you’re currently wearing tomorrow, i will fix it.” “You know how to sew?” “Yes, my dear.” “Aw, thank you..” “You’re welcome :)”

sometimes when you both are in the mood to hangout on the ship, Captain Beidou always teases you both “Hey, hey.. no one told me the lovebirds would board the ship!” “Captain beidou…” you and the other crew mates just laugh it off.

you and Beidou would talk about Kazuha and tell stories, and she had one piece of advice for you. “Just come to me if Kazuha hurts you or did something wrong, i’ll teach that kid a lesson.” “Is that a threat, captain?” you laugh, kazuha mutters under his breath, leaning on the wall of the ship "Why would i ever do that to them.."

all jokes aside, having kazuha in your life is a blessing from the gods that you can never thank them enough for.

at first, wanderer wasn’t the sweetest boyfriend. But after learning about relationships and love.. he started showing how much he loves you.

after he regained his memories, he was back to his old, sassy and arrogant self. But that didn’t stop him from being soft around you.

in public, he’s the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet istg, but when alone with you, he just suddenly melts into your touch.

he’d let you play with his hair, cuddle with him or more. you’re one of the people he trusts and loves, so he doesn’t mind it. he likes being pampered and pampering you.

he doesn’t have a petname for you, he just calls you by your name. but if he’s feeling nice enough, he’ll call you babe.

“Babe, can you-“ “Huh? What did you call me? 🤩” “..Babe. Are you deaf?” “OH MY GOSH 🥹” then he’d just stare at you like “what’s so shocking about that?” HAHAHAHAHA

his love language would mainly be physical touch, but in my opinion his love languages would be all, depending on his mood.

he would make fun of you sometimes, if you trip he’d definitely laugh his ass off but will help you stand up, if you accidentally say something that is SO stupid he’ll literally never shut up about it.

he would try food or things that you like, so he’d understand your preferences. But if you like sweets, he’d have a hard time with it. he’d spend an hour just trying to swallow it, he hates it.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like dango?” “….No. I like dango.” (He’s about to puke.)

wanderer wasn’t very good at showing his love through physical touch, but he would give you soft yet quick kisses, it’s like cotton grazing on your lips. after a while, he would be able to kiss you more confidently without any hesitation in private.

he is slightly showy in public, just subtle hand and waist holding as you two walk through sumeru, eat somewhere, or do any activities outside. like stargazing, watching a play etc.

whenever he would see you eyeing something you want, he would click his tongue and say “Tsk, buy it yourself.” then later night he’s holding a bag with the item/food you wanted earlier… “Hm? Isn’t that the food/thing i wanted?” “…Yeah.” “I thought you told me to buy it myself?” “Shut up, i changed my mind.” (he will get absolutely pissed off and flustered if you tease him about it 😭)

he would help you in any way he can, cooking, laundry, blahblahblah. just anything, so he could take the weight off your shoulders. you’re a hardworking person in his eyes, and he admires that, and he’s willing to be one with you.

he would surprisingly like cuddling, but not the one with those type of cuddling where it turns into some steamy stuff. i have a gut feeling he would love chill and tender moments with you, like talking about past experiences and laughing together, watching a movie together, etc. he loves seeing you smile and laugh, it makes him feel warm inside.

would kill for you, if anyone tries to harm you, they’ll be buried 6 feet under for that. even though he acts hard to get, he loves and cares for you a lot. he does not give a single shit if you’re bigger and taller than him, he knows he’s capable of protecting you.

overall, his life with you is the happiest one he has ever had. wanderer loves you with all his heart.

© reikissu do not repost/steal any of my works and repost it on other platform/s. I do not own the characters i write for at all, reblogs are appreciated though ♡

[joelsgreys]

jealous

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.

word count: 2k

a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗

Jackson, Wyoming

Winter 2024

“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”

Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.

You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.

And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.

In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.

And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.

“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.

Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.

You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.

After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”

Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”

Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”

Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.

Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.

Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.

Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.

“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him. 

With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”

“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”

He remained silent.

“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”

Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.

You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”

“But Joel—”

“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”

Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.

“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?

He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”

“Then why the hell are you so upset?”

“I ain’t upset, either.”

“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”

Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”

You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”

He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you’re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”

“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”

“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”

Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”

“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.

“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.

His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”

You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”

“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”

“Joel—”

He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”

“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.

Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move. 

Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.

He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”

“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”

[miguelhugger2099]

God, I can imagine the situation with Punk! Miguel when he became a father. It’s just that he can literally get a drawing of his daughter on his body, and it will look like some kind of blot, but he will be literally proud of this tattoo, just like a tattoo that is a print his daughter's finger.

But here's the situation. Let’s imagine that some person looks at Miguel’s tattoo and says, “What kind of weakling can give you the number of the artist who will cover it up?” Miguel is literally torn to strike the person opposite but then says “This is my daughter’s drawing”

Punk Dad!Miguel with his family out on the beach.

Punk Dad!Miguel with his two favorite girls: his wife in a cute baby blue lacy bikini and his little girl in an adorable pink tankini with flowers.

Punk Dad!Miguel who looks out of place with his bright sunshine girls while he’s covered in tatts and piercings, tall and strong and very clearly watching out for the two most important people in his life.

Punk Dad!Miguel who keeps an eye on you two while you play with Gabriella in the water. His shades covering his sensitive eyes while he sips on a coca cola under the umbrella, legs spread apart comfortably.

Punk Dad!Miguel who groans internally when the father beside him tries to talk to him again. A family of four where his wife is also juggling with two toddlers. The husband? Sitting on his ass.

“Gotta say man, I wish I could do all that but my wife, y’know how it is.” He chuckles.

“No, I don’t.” Miguel says plainly. He loves his wife.

The man takes a closer look at Miguel arm and snorts. “What the hell is that?” He points to a small flower bouquet that wrapped around his bicep. The bouquet was terribly drawn, stems thick and uneven, petals that varied from round to sharp, colors blended in like it was done with crayon. It was a stark difference to the other well done pieces around his body.

“Now what asshole decided to screw you over that badly?” He cackles. “Oh, man you have got to get that shit covered up.”

Punk Dad!Miguel who chugs the last drop of his soda and smashes the can in his grip. His brows are hard and lips holding back a snarl. He turns to the man slowly.

“My daughter drew it.” He hisses, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose bridge to hide the rage burning in his eyes.

The man gulps. “Oh…I’m—I didn’t mean—“ He’s luckily saved by Miguel’s little girl calling out to him. “Papi! Papi!”

Gabriella struggles to march up the hill of sand, quickly hurrying in the shade to protect her feet from the scorching hot ground. She falls on the towel on her stomach and grin up at him, her hair more curled than usual and drenched from the sea water.

Punk Dad!Miguel who melts and instantly forgets about whatever he was angry at. “Hi Gabi.” He smiles.

Gabriella lifts herself on her knees. “Hi.” She giggles. “Mami said to call you because I wanted to go deeper in the water but Mami said that you know how to swim better.” She recounts her story to him and you slowly come up behind. You sit on the towel with a huff, your hair equally drenched from Gabriella’s play.

He knows you’re just tired and it’s time to switch shifts. He tosses the crushed can inside the cooler of the husband next to him and picks Gabriella up, placing her on his shoulders. “Okay, mija! Let’s go!” Gabriella squeals, lifting her arms high in the air.

[mojogojocasahouse]

Just in Time Part I

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 4.7k content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), smut, unprotected p in v, oral m-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

[9:37 pm] Are you busy?

[9:38 pm] Aw. Kamo family party not as lively as you’d hoped?

[9:38 pm] Just answer the question, Gojo.

[9:38 pm] Gojo is busy. Satoru on the other hand can be persuaded. 

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, scanning the room again for anyone who might be taking an interest. Of course, no one seems to even remember you’re here at all.. 

[9:45 pm] Yes or no

[9:45 pm] What’s in it for me?

[9:45 pm] You’re joking

[9:46 pm] With all my options, why do I choose the Kamo bride tonight? Hmm? 

[9:50 pm] You’re a piece of shit. 

[9:51 pm] HARSH!! You’ve convinced me. Send me the address. 

[9:52 pm] Oh and tell daddy hi for me!

“Fuck you!” you hiss under your breath, sighing as you toss your phone back into the small bag you were carrying. 

Your history with Satoru Gojo has always been…tumultuous. It started in high school, as the daughter of the principal of the Kyoto branch, you sought him to get back at your father, Principal Gakuganji, and he’d been more than happy to oblige for the same exact reason. Exchange events had been less about competition and more about the time stolen in dorm rooms and behind buildings, far more than goodwill being spread. 

It had all come crashing down the day you turned 18. 

Not that there had been an air of commitment between either of you, but whatever physically beneficial relationship that had sprung up and the hopes that it would be more frequent after graduation were wiped away with one sentence. 

“You’re getting married,” your father had said, the Kamo boy from a year ahead of you smiling at his side. 

That was the day you’d realized you’d been nothing but a pawn from the day you’d been born. Despite being a Jujutsu sorcerer, you’d begged to go to university, prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could. Gojo had frequented your dorm room there, too, arriving at your door with his cock already stiff, you barely made it inside before you were on your knees, pulling him into your throat. 

Those years were as close as you got to happy. 

The Kamo clan had taken possession of you two years ago, and while meetings with Gojo became less frequent, they also grew more hostile. Satoru Gojo wasn’t known for his kind, warm nature, and his frustration in losing his favorite toy was on full display whenever you’d been able to get away from lackluster events and days of learning customs you couldn’t care less about; you were too weak to end it entirely with him. He made you feel too good, it was a reprieve from the life you faced day in and day out. But maybe it was just a different breed of nightmare. 

As things continued, you realized it wasn’t actually you that got his cock throbbing. It had always been the satisfaction of how much your father would hate Gojo being in your presence, never mind your bed. You felt the same, being with a man your father loathed above all else was just as thrilling to you. And now, on the evening of your arranged wedding, you’re standing outside a small sushi cafe in a misting rain waiting for a ride to the lavish Tokyo apartment Gojo uses for one thing only. You can’t help but wonder how many others have seen those barren walls. 

Typically, he sends a taxi service, letting you know the details of the car to look out for, but it’s been twenty minutes and you’ve received no information. 

[10:19 pm] You better not have fucking bailed on me. 

You hate how the thought makes your cheeks burn and your chest hollow in what you try to convince yourself is anger, but you know the truth. 

“Why would I bail on you!?” The sound of his voice yelling from his downed window has the muscles in your shoulders loosening. “You look ridiculous. What is that makeup?”

“Fuck you,” you spit at him, rounding the car to slide into the passenger seat, “Just go.”

“Well, aren’t you tense? What’s a‘matter? Already hating marital bliss?”

The disregard he displays about your impending doom digs under your skin. Your bladed gaze shoots over to him, you’d just noticed he was wearing his white bandages over his eyes still, the high collar of his uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the stretch of his throat you’d be decorating soon. 

“Were you working?” you ask, the hour a little strange for a teacher to still be on the clock. 

“Uh-huh,” he practically purrs, flicking through the songs quietly humming from the radio.

Well, that explains why he was the one that rolled up to get you. However, more dangerously you consider that he’d dropped what he was doing for you. 

“Seriously, what are you wearing?” he asks again with a chuckle.

“Shut the fuck—“ your retort was cut short by a long, slender thumb pressing down on your tongue, your lips locking around the digit and sucking instinctively. 

“I’m gonna tear it to shreds.” The whisper is almost menacing, and your core throbs at the husky tone and malicious intent. 

When you’d texted him, you knew tonight would be different. Tomorrow you’ll be signed away. Not that it will change your arrangement, at least you had no intention for it to, but it won’t be the same. It couldn’t be. You’ll be princess to the Kamo clan, officially, and while you find pockets to escape now, soon there will be hurdles even Satoru Gojo can’t leap over. 

“Did you have any trouble?” he asks as the car comes to a smooth halt at a red light, your lips pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before he can pull it away completely and check whatever alert had just pinged his phone. 

“No,” you answer, turning your attention out the window.

In fact, the lack of resistance had given you pause. When you’d told your father you wanted to head home, he hadn’t even asked why. You’d already prepped the excuse of a headache and buzzing nerves, but he’d waved you off and returned to his conversation with one of the many Jujutsu society higher-ups in attendance. You hadn’t even bothered to check in with the man you were set to marry in just over twelve hours. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran.

The apartment is pitch black when you arrive, Gojo forgetting to turn the lights on as he throws his things onto the kitchen counter and heads straight to his fridge, grabbing a glass bottle of soda and sending the metal top skipping across the floor. Your eyes can’t help but try and follow it, even in the dark, the thud of Gojo’s hands slamming against the door behind you echoing in each of your ears. He’s centimeters away, his sweet strawberry breath huffing out against your lips, and your lungs seize up, your chest shaking with traitorous little gasps. It’s been almost ten years of this, and still, he leaves you quivering.

“I know what you wanna do.” His voice is smoother than melted chocolate, sweet and rich.

“You don’t know shit.” Maintaining this ruse is futile when your voice is trembling, but you try anyway.

“Oh? I think I know you best of all.”

He’s right, and the fact that he knows that has your stomach knotting. As he flashes that cocky, toothy grin there’s no helping the relief that floods through your body. The night had been tense, you’d been nothing but a stranger in a strange land, sat down and expected to abide by customs and etiquette that made you sick. It was a hierarchy, and you were the very bottom rung of the ladder, only there to push the others around you up higher towards their goals.

“You called me, remember?” he croons, backing away enough to have your body following his on pure instinct, “So come and take what you want. I’m all yours.”

For one last night. The leather of his belt is smooth as you grip it with one hand, yanking him back into you. He has a significant height advantage, but when you seek his lips he’s already curled himself down, the kiss you find solace in waiting for you. It’s sugary and warm, the soft cloth of his eye-covering pressing against your forehead as his palms swallow your sides whole, he’s learned the intricacies of your preferences in ways no one else ever would. He knows to tease you until your fingers thread through his hair, a gentle tug the welcome invitation to swipe his tongue along your swelling lower lip, but he’s also well aware you won’t take that step, but it’s one he’s always happy to leap into.

Snowy, white strands fall over the back of your hand as the bandages around his eyes loosen and drape over your noses, your nails still raking through the buzzed hair of his undercut and you know if you dared open your eyes, the infinite blue that the sky itself envied would greet you. Both your fingers and his work to pull the troublesome fabric free, his succeeding before threading with yours and pinning your hand above your head, the fraying edges of the cloth dancing against your hair as his pace picks up. 

Every inch of your body burns, the tight material of your assigned outfit suffocating and the room growing seemingly smaller around the broad shoulders in front of you. All you can smell is him as you search for the zipper of his jacket with your free hand, pulling it open and making quick work of the buttons of his overpriced shirt. His skin is smooth and cool to the touch, the peaks and valleys of his defined torso solid beneath your brushing fingertips. It takes all your concentration to keep up with him, he’s almost frantic, pushing you further and further into the wood behind you as his chest heaves until suddenly he pulls away. 

You’re left cold and buzzing in anticipation, his predatory gaze burning through you from where he stands just out of reach. 

“I want that off,” he mutters, low and menacing, his teeth gnashed together, and you know he isn’t talking about your clothes.

He’s faster than you are, his pointer finger and thumb gripping the gold ring on your left hand and tugging, the ping of the metal skittering across the floor after his haphazard toss in sync with the speed at which he claims your mouth once again. You knew he could feel it catching in his hair and grazing over his chest. Typically, you remembered to take it off prior to even stepping foot in his building, but today the surprise of Gojo himself pulling up to get you had sent everything out of whack. 

“Satoru,” you sigh, his appreciative groan from hearing his given name falling from your lips hitting where he was currently mouthing at your throat, “Satoru…”

You sound pathetic and you can't care less, he’s eating your blatant need for him out of the palm of your hand. He always does, and you wonder if he’s like this with everyone else who gets to see these walls. 

When your hand shoots to his belt, undoing the buckle and finding the button and zipper that’s keeping him contained you can feel the stretch of his smile against your neck.

“I win,” he croons, tugging his arms free of his sleeves as you push his pants and boxers down to his ankles. 

“I volunteer,” you correct as you sink to your knees, his finger keeping your chin in place and eyes on him as you drop down. 

Satoru usually won this little tradition, his hand diving between your legs first and claiming himself the “loser” as he spread your thighs wide and worked you on his tongue until he’d had his fill. Tonight, however, belonged to you, his cock thick and long as you ran your tongue along the underside, greedily collecting the small pearls that had already begun to leak from the tip. 

“Lookit me,” he slurs, mouth already hanging open as you keep his flushed head sitting on your tongue, “Good girl.”

His thumb rubs reverent circles on your jaw as he spits along his ridge, your mouth immediately locking around him and sucking him clean. With each bob of your head you take him a little deeper, your lips loudly suctioning around him as his head falls back in bliss and his shoulders drop from their tensed state. He sighs in relief, his thighs flexing beneath your hands when your throat constricts around the intrusion, your hair quickly knotting in his grip as he takes two steps forward, pinning you against the door. 

“Come on, princess,” he urges, pinching your chin, “don’t be a tease. Gag it down. All of it.”

It’s times like these when you remember the man towering above you is just a few criteria short of being a monster. Spoiled rotten and all-powerful—there is nothing the world could offer that was out of his reach. His confidence is otherworldly and earned, there is no task he isn’t proficient in, and in turn, you’ve always worked hard to stand toe-to-toe with him in all things. Even this. 

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he watches your expression morph into one of ire and determination, he knows how to push every button and pluck every string and he’s well aware of it. With your head firmly in his grasp, his hips start to move, his cock sliding over your tongue like silk as you try to force back the urge to wretch it out. Your eyes burn, tears sliding down your cheeks and mingling with the drool coating the lower half of your face, and he doesn’t relent, nor do you ask him to. 

“There we go,” he praises, yet your nose still hasn’t touched the thin patch of white curls that’s still an inch away, “Fixed that hideous makeup.”

He can tell that you need air, and he pulls himself free while still keeping you pinned by the hair, a string of spit connecting your gasping, swollen lips to the shining tip of his dick. He’s chuckling to himself at your haggard state, your lungs burning as they pull in the air that tastes like him. He bends, forcing himself to your eye level, his free hand thumbing at your gaping mouth.

“You’re such a whore,” he whispers, and it sounds like a compliment in his tooth-rotting, sweet tone, and he spits once again straight onto your tongue. 

“Prick…” you cough after swallowing down what he’d left, his high-pitched giggle echoing in the room as he stands back to his full height. 

“Well, you don’t come here cause I’m nice to you. Do you? Open up.”

Your response is a swift obeying of his command. 

“You like this kind of attention,” his tone is lower now.

Once again, you have to resign to the fact that he’s right. There’s no warning now, no preparation, just his cock slamming into your throat, and your eyes snap shut as you breathe through your nose. He reaches down to feel the bulging of his thrusts, being careful to not pinch off whatever airflow you may have just yet, his hum of approval shooting straight to your throbbing core. 

“And only I give it to you,” he finishes, your tongue laving out against his sack drawing out a whine, “Stay still.”

He knows exactly what you can take, moving his hips at a speed he knows won’t be too much and stopping when your mewling turns frantic, kissing your lips as you suck in air before returning to fucking your throat hard enough the door rattles on its hinges. You want to reach between your legs to relieve the ache that’s becoming unbearable, but you know he’ll scold you, prolonging any relief indefinitely. 

“And what would daddy think of you now?” he snarls, pulling out and smacking the side of your face with his cock, “When are you gonna stop letting that old man run your life?”

The question comes out of nowhere, shocking you enough to give you pause. His nostrils are flared again, and his chest heaving; he looks furious. He takes full advantage, a firm grip around your upper arm pulling you to your feet before he does exactly as he’d threatened, tearing your outfit off in one effortless tug. The question of what you’ll be going home in flits across your mind, but it’s background noise, drowned out by the confusion at his sudden uncharacteristic question and the oceans swirling in his eyes staring down at you.

“I hate what you do to me.” Words you weren’t sure you were meant to hear push the air from your lungs as he tugs you towards the bedroom, your feet following until your back hits the soft down comforter stretched across his bed. 

You want to contemplate what he means by that, but he doesn’t give you time. He’s nudging your legs apart with his knees, his cock flushed practically purple in his grip as he finds you dripping wet and ready for him. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he fills you in one hard thrust, his arms immediately pulling you upright and flush to his chest, your thighs trembling from the burning stretch between your legs as he lifts you slightly and lets you sink down onto him.

“You know, out of everyone,” he purrs, all signs of his previous anger neatly tucked away, “your pussy is still my favorite.”

Whatever of his anger had quelled now coiled in your belly at his words, and you shove at his shoulders, his unsuspecting body toppling over with a clumsy “oof!” as your knees straddle his thin waist. 

“Ohoo, ha! That makes you mad doesn’t it?” he taunts as you do your best to pin his wrists above his head with two hands, “That you have to share.”

It’s a thought that shouldn’t irk you in the slightest, but it makes your eyes flash green with envy. He doesn’t even flinch as you hold him in place despite how easily he could overpower you in less than a second. Tufts of white hair fan out around his head like a halo for a man anything but angelic, his hands wriggling free just enough to entwine his fingers with yours. You go from feeling in control to once again at his mercy as he cradles your palms in his, the gentle press of his lips to the point of your chin waking the butterflies in your stomach. There’s no reason for him to be this reverent, this intimate, he was spitting in your mouth just minutes ago, but he continues his soft path, your head turning to allow him to trace your jaw and find the sensitive hollow behind your ear.

“Now you know how I feel,” he breathes, and you clench around him as a shiver shoots down your spine.

The sharp point of his nose grazes along your skin and you’re twitching on him now, but you’re too content like this to move. He’s so close, you feel hypnotized, almost serene as you breathe him in and just feel him. The worst part is that he gives in, letting you have this tease of a moment, a flickering and fleeting ruse of something that will be ripped away. You like holding his hand, as it turns out, his grip is strong and delicate all the same, his fingers practically at the bend of your wrist. You’re just breathing each other’s air now, noses bumping as your eyes flutter closed, and part of you just wants to collapse and fall asleep.

“Am I still a prick?” he asks with a devious lilt.

“Yeah,” you confirm, but for reasons that aren’t entirely his fault.

“Hmm. Want me to be nice to you?”

Life will be easier moving forward if you refuse his offer, but before your train of thought catches up with the autopilot currently in control, you’d already nodded. 

The pillow is soft under your head as he flips you onto your back, your bodies still connected while he situates himself comfortably between your legs. With the first slow roll of his hips, a kiss to your forehead sends your knees into his ribs, his smile stretching across your dewy skin before he repeats it all over again. It’s cruel, and immediately you loathe the woman who has seen this side of him before you have. 

“You need to relax,” he commands, flicking his tongue out against your pursed lips, “Before you drive me insane. How long d’you think I can make it with you clamped around me like this, huh?”

“Aren’t you the strongest?” you sass in reply, trying to distract yourself, and he laughs.

“Most of the time.”

He’s found the angle that drives you mad, every drive of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that inches you towards ecstasy. Your vision goes white around the edges, his lips still close enough to kiss but neither of you can focus enough to close the distance. At some point, your fingers had wound into his hair and his in yours, the muffled whines and gasping breaths escaping into the room more obscene than the guttural cries of his name of times past. This was raw, honest, desperate. He’s muttering obscenities as he tugs hard enough to have your scalp twinging, the sudden pressure of a hand clasping your throat dragging you up to the surface.

“I need you to…” He’s wrecked, sweat dripping down his temples, his hair stuck to his face, “I need you to come. I can’t…”

A reassurance that he can cut the act and do what he needs to is cut short by a blinding, white-hot wave surging from your middle outwards. Your nails seek to permanently indent their half-moon shapes into the marbled perfection of his back while your face buries in his neck. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your cheek until your senses begin to regulate, and it’s then you realize it’s a pleading whine of your name he’s been chanting like a prayer. 

Panic sets in, he looks like he’s in agony, his face twisting and eyes clamped shut but when your hands cup his jaw it melts away. A lazy kiss allows you both to settle, lips tugging and pulling, tongues brushing softly, and you can feel him softening inside of you as his cum and yours soaks your inner thighs and drips onto the bed. You want to know what he’s thinking, but his face is unreadable now, it’s almost as if he’s half asleep, opting to rest down on your chest for just a moment, his ear directly over your still-hammering heart.

There’s no time to decipher exactly what had just transpired. It’s better that way. He lifts you with ease and carries you to the shower, his fingers scrubbing your hair before he drops to his knees in front of you–a silent plea to return the favor. You take it slow, scraping over his scalp and combing through his thick locks until his head falls to your stomach. You stay until the water runs cold, not a word is said, and there’s no use in translating the silence. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he chuckles as he passes you a t-shirt from his drawer, watching intently as you pull it over your head before focusing on the way the hem hits the middle of your thighs, “Maybe you’ll have to climb in through a window like the old days.”

The memory makes you smile. 

He’s in nothing but sweatpants when he walks out with a wink, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel in your hair. Once you leave this room he’ll call you a taxi, and then it’ll be tomorrow. So you sit there surrounded by everything that makes Satoru him. Empty soda bottles on the nightstand, mochi wrappers surrounding a half-empty trash can, his uniform for tomorrow folded and set neatly on a chair in the corner of the room beside the moonlit window, expensive watches he rarely wore, an array of sunglasses, and a single photo of him, Shoko, and Suguru Geto from their second year at Jujutsu High tucked back on the dresser like a relic he dares not move.

When you finally shake the lead from your feet and trudge into the kitchen, Satoru’s at the stove, music playing lightly from his phone on the counter, the symphony of the orchestral tune mixing with the sound of metal scraping on a pan. As you approach the table, he slides a plate across to you, your stomach rumbling at the sight.

“What’s this?” you squeak out, staring down at his offering.

“An omelet,” he states bluntly, flipping the one he’d started for himself.

It’s like an anvil has been dropped on your chest, the control on the tears that had been threatening to break free since he’d pressed worshipful kisses to your stomach in the shower waning. It’s insane that for a moment you consider he actually cares, the lack of common decency you’re shown in your daily life making every gesture grand, even something as simple as this.

“Do you…not like omelets anymore?” he asks, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been in a staring contest with your late-night snack.

“I do.” Your throat is closing in on itself and it’s becoming impossible to mask.

“Okay…”

Etiquette takes over, and you sit to take a bite of what he’s prepared for you, but the small piece you’ve cut off only makes it halfway to your trembling lips before it goes clattering down to the table. 

“What is–” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Why?” The question is much more harsh than you intend.

“Why what?”

“This.”

“Because your stomach has been gurgling since I picked you up. It’s annoying. And you said you wanted me to be nice to you.”

You can’t help the knowing laugh that snaps you both out of whatever daze you’d been trapped in. Your appetite ducks and runs once again and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all part of the act; he could be whatever it was you wanted, all you had to do was ask as long as the request wasn’t honesty. If he won’t call you a cab, you can get one yourself, and you find your discarded bag on the counter on the other side of him, but of course, he blocks your path.

“What is your problem?” The concerned furrow of his brow almost makes this all believable, like he can feel remorse.

Footsteps coming up the sidewalk catch not only your attention but his, and although he slips around you to separate you from whatever lies on the other side, his arm held out to keep you safely pressed behind him, your anger has already taken over.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you snap, shoving at the barrier of infinity he’s activated.

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Is your next visitor here? It is a Friday, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Tch. I was working before I dropped everything to come rescue you. Left poor Megumi to finish the job on his own.”

“As if you couldn’t have just done it yourself.” You mimic the way he unleashes that destructive purple technique, flicking against his invisible wall right behind his ear with your middle finger, “Just let me leave–”

“With no pants? Good luck.”

The color drains from your face when it isn’t a woman’s voice heard on the other side of the door, but a very familiar one. Three raps of a wooden cane echo through the palpable silence, your body going rigid in terror as the sound of your pulse turns deafening.

“What did you do…” you mutter under your breath, backing away from Satoru who’s playing the part of shocked exceptionally well, “What the fuck did you do?”

“What did I do?!” he responds in a hushed, frantic whisper.

“You called him.”

“Of all the stupid conclusions you’ve had in your life!”

“Gojo!” your father’s voice echoes through the room, “GOJO!”

Part II is almost done! Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs=love

{{Masterlist}}

[officialabortive]

Barbarian!Bakugou x FoxHybrid!Reader

Barbarian!Bakugou had already set up camp for the night under a canopy of thick tree branches. Finally finding some semblance of relief within the cool shade, when he was disturbed by jingling of rusted bells and worn out wooden wheels clacking against rough terrain. Of course, he knows before even looking, that it was the tell tale clatter of a wandering merchant. Bakugou makes haste, jogging over to see the available merchandise. Opportunities like this are rare, as merchants who travel so far out are few and far between.

The stallions —who are surprisingly well kept and very clearly well groomed— hauling the small wooden caravan came to a halt as the man holding the reigns gave a tug upon noticing a blonde figure jogging up. Dropping the reigns, the man swiftly hoped to the ground, ready to offer a sales pitch. Clasping his hands together, the merchant gave his best smile. It was obviously forced, far to wide and toothy to be genuine. Katsuki already pinned him as an obnoxious asshole.

"Ah! Hello, hello, good sir! Would you be interested in making a purchase? You've come at a good time, I have quite the selection at the moment!"

Bakugou grunts "maybe. What'd you have?" The cart was ever so slightly too elevated to see inside without needing to jump to look in over the edge

"Oh please do come take a look!"

Bakugou trails behind him to the back of the caravan where they can see in through the open back. Several hybrids sat on the wooden flooring, all of which having their gaze pinned directly back on him.

"I only carry the cutest and most unique hybrids! Even some exotic breeds! Only the best of the best! And I can assure you they are all perfectly family friendly!" He started pointing to them individually. "Here we have a beautiful teddywidder rabbit! This is red tailed deer! Over here is one of my personal favorites, a rare spot-"

"Got any hunters?"

The man began stumbling over his words. Now one ever wanted something like that, a possible threat. People wanted a nice cute hybrid to have around the house and be loved by children.

"I- uh- well, I do have this exotic snowy fox, who I'm sure is an amazing hunter. Foxes are known for their incredible hearing, agility, and stealth! All amazing attribut-"

"I'll take 'em"

There was an audible ting, Bakugou having flicked something to the man who fumbled to catch it, even with using two hands. Greedy eyes bulge at the perfectly circular gold piece in his palm. Gluttony has evidently long had it's unshakable grasp on his soul.

—

You were fairly well behaved. Immediately inspecting the temporary camp, analyzing each item in the worn out bag that lay open on the dirt. Than coming to sniff at bakugou, poking and prodding, curiously tugging at each individual necklaces on his chest. He'd even noticed how you sat exclusively in shaded areas, and squinting whenever you weren't.

Yeah, he regrets not thinking further into the whole 'only liking dark areas' thing. Turns out foxes are fucking nocturnal.

Now, the sun had long gone in to hiding, yet here sits a very much wide awake, agitated barbarian. Slouched with arms crossed over his chest as he glares at nothing in particular.

"Can't believe I spent fuck'n money on this bullshit– QUIT IT!"

The sales basterd was right, you were definitely stealthy. And for Katsuki, it's annoying as shit. He can't even hear your approach when you pounce on him from behind, cackling when you successfully grab on to him mid-jump. Only after several hours worth of attempts to catch you, only for you to slip right out of his grasp, to have you apprehend and tired. Finaly he can get some damn shut ey- why the fuck are you burrowing under his cloak!?

Whatever. At least bakugou is confident in your skills required for hunting. Perfect.

MASTERLIST

[princessbrunette]

toxic! rafe getting annoyed w reader bc shes going out wearing her mini skirt baby pink but thats her favorite ;(

he can control whatever he likes but he is not taking my mini skirts from me. he’ll have to kill me first

you try n sneak past where he’s sat to go to the front door but rafe has like, a sixth sense for these kinds of things so he’s up like a rocket following you into the hallway !

“hey, hey,” he’s grabbing your arm and turning you around, holding you still when you squirm. “the fuck are you goin’? dressed like that?” he squints, holding you at shoulder length so he can eye you up.

“im going out with the girls.” you respond bashfully, knowing you’ve been caught. he shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak but you get there first. “i love this skirt rafe, please — i just got it.” you bargain and he’s already shaking his head.

“i know— i know you like the skirt, sweetheart but you’re just…” he sighs, letting go of you. “you know every guy is gonna be lookin’ at your ass right? you’re aware?” he holds his arms out exasperatedly.

“why does it matter? i’m not gonna be looking at them.” you pout, trying to tug your skirt down a little to make it seem longer, which he notices, licking his lips and holding his arm out to your skirt in gesture.

“its tiny! s’a piece of fuckin’ fabric, can’t even keep it up when you’re standin’ still.” he argues. “this is the shit you wear around the house. with me— a’ight? not infront of some random assholes who are gonna be tryna catch a peek all night, okay— you think i don’t know how guys brains work?” he taps the side of his head, squinting. “i’ve been single before, okay i’ve been that guy.”

“rafe, it’s just a skirt.” you pout, sulking at the mention of him before he met you. “please?” you bat your lashes, hoping it’ll work. he runs his tongue along his lip, staring away as he shakes his head before turning back to you.

“alright.” he moves past you, grabbing his keys out the bowl and sauntering towards the front door. “you can wear it. but i’m coming.”

“… rafe it’s a girls night. they’ll be mad.” you argue quietly, and he turns to face you from the front door, scratching behind his head.

“i don’t give a shit, how they feel about it baby. it’s the skirt or me.” he shrugs, leaning on the door as he waits for an answer. you stare him down, letting out a long sigh and he speaks again. “probably gonna end up driving you home like i’m a goddamn taxi later on, so i might aswell come now, right?”

“… fine.” you roll your eyes, shuffling towards him.

“there you go. we’ll have fun, won’t we?”

[oneforthemunny]

eeeee my favorite game ever!!!

bouncer!eddie, angst, “say that again”

oof starting off strong with some bouncer!ed angst!! also small tw mentions past infidelity and cheating. sorry it's the lore. also they're kinda really mean in their fighting.

"I don't even know why you're so mad." Eddie huffed, hands flinging upwards with dramatic irritation. "I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you didn't this time." You snapped, teeth clenched in such a fury you were surprised they didn't snap, crack and fall out like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

"Oh, here we go!" Eddie threw his head back. "Here we fucking go again-"

"-Yeah, here we go again, you asshole-"

"-Why do you always do this, huh? You always do this-"

"-Do this?" Your voice shrilled, lifting into a yell. "I didn't do anything, you fucking piece of shit! You were the one who couldn't keep your dick in your pants-"

"-Oh, don't fucking do this! Don't fucking start this! We weren't official! We hadn't made it official, you know that!" Eddie's own voice raised, rising above yours.

"Oh, we hadn't? We hadn't made it official?" You sneered, eyes narrowing in challenge.

"We didn't-"

"-We didn't but you told me you loved me? We weren't official, but you were telling me you loved me, and I was the only one you'd ever loved, and you were staying at my place every fucking night!" Your voice was beginning to scratch with how harshly you were yelling, body burning with a furious rage.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you always fuckin' bring that up. How many times are you going to throw that shit in my face? I told you I'm fucking sorry, I'll say it again- I'm sorry." Eddie's tone lacked the sincerity it usually did, the heart crumbling sincerity and remorse that it held the night he'd poured his heart out to you after. This time, it was filled with annoyance, dripping with sarcasm.

"You're not fucking sorry. If you were sorry you wouldn't be such a piece of shit, you wouldn't continue to do this. Let all these girls touch all over you, entertain them!" You jabbed a finger towards him. "Honestly, how would you feel if I let some guys do that to me? If I was slutting myself out for them the way you are-"

"-Oh, like you don't." Eddie scoffed with an eye roll. "Like you don't act like a slut to get tips. It's so much different though, right? Because you're getting money out of it. Makes it so much better."

The room fell quiet, both of you shocked by his words, the anger and harshness in them. Your heart beat thunderingly in your ringing ears, mouth falling slightly with shock. Eddie's eyes widened, mouth closing with realization.

"What did you just say?" You sneered, a much quieter tone than before, but somehow it was worse. Made Eddie cringe, a shiver running up his spine.

"Wait, ok, hold on," Eddie stammered, holding his hands out gently. "I-I didn't- I didn't mean that, baby, c'mon. You know I- I was just fucking mad-"

"-But you still said it." You grit. "So say it again. Look me in the eye, and say it again."

"What? No." Eddie shook his head. "No, I-I didn't- I'm sorry, alright? I shouldn't-"

"-No, say it. You clearly meant it." You glared at him, voice eerily even and calm. "So say it again. Be a fucking man and say that again."

"Look, I-I'm gonna go for- We need to just chill." Eddie's heart was hammering, racing so hard his head was spinning, hands shaking when he grabbed his keys and lighter. "I-I didn't mean it. I-I was just mad, and-"

"-And you think I'm a slut?" Your lips pressed together, eyes flashing in a hurt that had Eddie's stomach turning. "I'm the slut? Me?"

"Ok, I'm not-" Eddie ran a hand under his bangs, damp hairline and clammy hands running over his forehead. "I'm going to smoke, ok? Let's just- let's take a time out." His voice was rising in octave, nearly squeaky with guilt.

"You cool down, I'll cool down, and-and we can come back and talk like adults." Eddie stepped backwards, eyeballing you carefully. His heart sank when he saw your lip wobble, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall. His hand wrapped around the doorknob, knees tensing when you turned, stomping towards the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the trailer shook,

[animentality]

I got sad because I realized that the only good relationship that Dark Urge and Gortash had was with each other.

Gortash got sold by his parents, was abused in hell, barely escaped, and then spent the rest of his life plotting and scheming and refusing to get close to anyone, ultimately even selling another child he took in to the same nightmarish life he'd once escaped from.

Dark Urge was forced to kill their foster family by Bhaal, and then went to a Bhaal temple, where they might've been worshipped, but I highly doubt that the murder cult weirdos really thought of them as a person, and not just an object of worship. It is awful lonely up on that bloody pedestal. Plus the way they beg Bhaal for forgiveness for liking Gortash makes me suspect that it's never happened before.

And then I hold my little heart in my hands and weep for the two of them.

Because I know gortash is a piece of shit who refuses to break the cycle of abuse. And I know the dark urge has murdered a shit ton of people and enjoyed it too.

But...but...your honor ...I still feel sympathy.

I still felt sadness in the house of hope, when that asshole admitted he used to beat Gortash black and blue for fun.

I still felt grief when I read dark urge's letter to their god for ADMIRING someone.

For caring about a person.

And then I found out that dark urge had been living a normal life until they killed their foster parents.

You can say that dark urge enjoyed it, but I just don't think that's the case.

Baldur's Gate 3 has some laughably evil villains but there is nuance. There is humanity in most of the characters, good, evil, and morally gray. Even big baddies. Ketheric Thorm notably has a rather sad backstory full of grief, loneliness, and love turned to madness, Gortash was broken as a child by parents who shattered his ability to care for anyone but himself, and even Orin, if you confront her about Sarevok's relationship to her mother, can even be seen as a tragic figure. Like what the fuck, her own mom tried to kill her as an offering to bhaal.

Maybe all bhaalspawn are laughably one dimensional villains with absolutely no human traits to them, but that's just fucked.

One of my favorite themes is how everyone is a slave to the gods, their playthings, their disposal tools.

Poor Ketheric Thorm said it best when he said that we're just copper pieces to be traded, that we might have beaten him, but the gods beat him first.

He's so right, man. Most if not all the companions are slaves to Gods and devils.

Dark Urge was a slave to Bhaal, just a means to an end, a sharpened blade pressed against the world's throat, and Gortash was the plaything of devils, traded away by parents who didn't care about him, a powerless little boy who'd grow up to be a tyrannical power hungry despot.

I choose to believe they recognized each other. They worked together initially because they had their own agendas, and were doing their usual song and dance of manipulating others, but the more time they spent together, the more they actually liked each other.

They were genuinely friends, or lovers, and it's sickening and it's driving me mad, and it's all so sad.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

DAY NINE: Hate Sex w/ Ex!Fratboy!Bucky Barnes (ft. sorority sister!reader

a/n: I cannot begin to tell yoy how fucking aware I am that this is late and I'm almost falling behind but ohmygoodness I've been literally exhausted for the past two days. I'm lowkey pissed about it because I was super excited to write for this day and actually writing for it felt like I was dragging my feet behind me.

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TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @zippertwat @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl

Fuck James Buchanan Barnes.

He’s a piece of shit, an asshole, a womanizer, a player, a liar and a dirty fucking cheat, but goddamn it, why do you always find yourself here? 

You hated him – no – you do hate him! 

Even people that hate their exes like the fact that they catch their eye, that they can’t find it within themselves to look away from them, that in some way, some capacity, they will always want them, that they will always be theirs regardless of whoever they get with in the future. 

Bucky knew you’d come to the party at his frat, and you knew that you would go with every intention of fucking with him. To everyone else, you were just bitter exes - that needed to fuck out whatever was going on between the two of you - so when you showed up in a dress that fell just below your ass, your friends figured you were just trying to get laid; but no one knew that this was his favorite color on you, let alone his favorite dress.

You just so happened to pick it out, that’s all! Couldn’t a girl want to pamper herself nowadays?

You fake laughed at whatever the dude that had fallen right into your trap said, a manicured hand lifting up to slap him on his arm gently, making extra sure to graze the naked skin of his arm that was exposed by his muscle tee with your acrylics. You fluttered your eyelashes at him innocently, a faux sweet smile on your face. 

Subconsciously, you knew that you wanted Bucky to take you home, or to his room, or to wherever the fuck he wanted too – but you’d never admit that to yourself. You couldn’t. He couldn’t win this game of cat and mouse, not without a fight, and you just so happened to love playing dirty.

You could feel Bucky’s stare burning into your back. Your bodycon dress was completely strapless, leaving little to nothing to the imagination as your breasts threatened to spill out over the top. You weren’t a sorority slut by any means, one of your sister’s had that covered, but still, you were going to go home with somebody tonight.

Even if he was an idiot.

“That’s so funny, Aaron.” Aaron laughed nervously, cheeks blooming a deep red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s uh- actually Eric.” Right. “Sorry.” You giggled, raising the neck of your beer as if it was some sort of explanation for the fact that you don’t really give a shit about what his name is and more about what’s in his pants.

Before you could speak, your eyes raised up to meet Bucky’s, who was standing across the pull, two ladies vying for his attention as he puffed on what looked like a blunt. It looked like he was in the same boat that you were; that he didn’t care about what they were saying, only you.

Biting your lip, you turned your gaze back to Aaron – Eric. 

You knew you’d have to up the ante in order to get him to move, because right now you know he thinks that you’re all bark no bite. You’ll show him.

“You know…” You made a finger walking motion up his arm, the tips of your nails now slightly digging into his skin. “How about we get out of here?” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him. “It’s too crowded… and loud.” Your hand finally rested on his upper bicep, giving it a soft squeeze. The poor man’s jaw was slightly dropped, as if he was a fish out of water. 

“Yeah, yeah, I-” He attempted to say, but when you raised your gaze again, Bucky was gone, and you had forced yourself to bite back a wolfish smile because you knew he was on the move somewhere.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” Bucky’s voice sounded as he approached the both of you from behind. Eric looked as if he had seen a ghost, but the poor boy had no idea that he was just a pawn in your game. 

“Oh- uh- nothin’ man, just talking.” You raised a brow at Eric’s shaky excuse. Internally, you rolled your eyes. What a pussy. 

“Really?” Bucky asked in amusement, not even bothering to hide the face splitting smirk that contorted his face. “Yep.” You responded, popping the ‘p’ as you took the blunt from him. You wrapped your mouth around it, your gaze almost challenging him as you sucked, pulling the smoke into your lungs. It burned but it was worth it to see the tick in his jaw and the slight twitch in his eye at the sight of your pursed lips.

“I think that I um- I’m just gonna go.” Eric squeaked awkwardly. All lustful intention slipped away from him as he grasped his hand and shook it. From the poor man’s wince you can tell that Bucky put a little bit too much force in his shake.

When the random guy slipped away you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Real smooth.” You commented. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

“I’m talking about you trying to act like you weren’t trying to fuck me right in front of him.” The way you said it was as if it was the most casual thing on earth. “I almost forgot how possessive you get when you know someone else wants me.” You tilted your chin up to finally face him, and you caught yourself from almost stumbling over your words at the primal look on his face. 

You did it. You won this game fair - enough - and square.

“Too bad my pussy doesn’t belong to you anymore, isn’t it, James?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. But you weren’t scared, if anything you were turned on. 

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m right, even though anger does look good on you.” 

You went to step away, but he was quick to snatch your wrist, “Were not done talkin’.” You made a noncommittal attempt to tug yourself free. “I am.” 

The tension between the two of you sizzled like oil on a pan, beckoning, calling for someone to do something, anything, to appease the burning desire that was coiling in Bucky and yours’ guts.

“If you’re not done then I guess we should find somewhere quiet to talk then.” 

He didn’t give you the chance to offer a rebuttal because he was already dragging you away from the prying eyes of party goers, his frat brothers and your sorority sisters. You already had an idea of where he was taking you, pushing the both of you through the sea of people that flooded the house, most of them drunk or high or a hammered off of a little bit of everything that was rotating throughout the home.

When he’d found his room, he was grateful that no one had decided to fuck in it, because that was what he was supposed to be doing.

He let your body be the thing that slammed the door shut with a loud bang!

He kissed you harshly, his left hand grasped your chin while the other hiked a full leg over his hip, grinding his erection onto your needy core.

“Fuck!” You gasped, your back arching off the wood as you broke the kiss. The friction of his jeans against your pulsing clit sent you staggering for balance, your inhibitions clouding your mind when you allowed your self-control to completely flee from within you.

“Bucky baby.” You whined. The man practically preened at the sound of his old nickname, his humping turning harder and calculated. He clearly had an end goal in mind. 

“What were you sayin’ about this pussy not bein’ mine no more?” He quipped. “I still mean it.” You gasped. He growled, but nonetheless, that didn’t deter him from shoving his face in the corner of your neck and biting down on the skin. Hard.

You yelped at the pain, but it shot down straight to your stimulated core. The bite only drew you closer to your embarrassingly fast approaching orgasm. It had been so long since you’d been touched by him, and God, you missed his hands, his voice, his touch, his smell, his cock.

“‘M close, Buck, ‘m so close.” You murmured, waving your fingers through his brunette hair and tugging on the strands. You felt a burning bitterness well-up in your gut when the tips of your fingers brushed against the hard plastic of the silver crown on top of his head. You sneakily took it off before throwing it somewhere in his room.

“No need to be jealous, honey.” He teased with a smirk on his face. “Shut— shut up!” Your rebuttal only came out as a whine. You could feel the cloth of your laced thong stick to your wet labia with every grind on his jeans – which also now sported a dark spot on his pants.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You swore as you came. “There you go. That’s it, good girl.” Small whimpers slipped out of you as he worked you into overstimulation. 

“God,” He groaned. “I’ve gotta fuck you.”

Guiding his face up to yours, you brushed your lips together, holding your intense eye contact with one another. “Then fuck me, Buck. I think you have a point to prove.” He leaned forward just a bit to nip at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. 

“Fuckin’ naughty.” Bucky grunted, forcing your leg down from his hip for a moment to snatch your panties down your legs. Your hands shot out to his belt buckle, slipping the leather out of it and unbuttoning his jeans. It was your turn to shove his pants down and grab his hard on, his hot cock pulsing in your hand.

The air in the back of his throat caught at the feeling of your stroking, “God– turn around.” You did as he said and felt his large, calloused hands pushing up your dress.

“Gonna make sure everyone at this fuckin’ party knows you’re mine.” He says lowly, pulling down his underwear to his mid-thigh and prodding his tip at your entrance. “Even if you fuckin’ hate me.” With that, he entered you, splitting you in half on his cock.

You cried out at the feeling, false nails scratching at the surface of his door in an attempt to keep yourself steady. “Feels so good, Buck. So, so, good.” You mewled, your hips pushing out on their own accord to try and take your own pleasure. “Always so fuckin’ greedy.” He chided. His hands grabbed at the fat of your ass, pulling out of you only to slam back in, sending you up the wall.

Your bodies moved in a familiar symphony that had been sung numerous times before, as they hadn’t forgotten one another, they were just simply waiting for the both of you to press play.

His dick repeatedly prodded at your g-spot, the friction sending you into overdrive as you moaned, and cried and begged. “God, I think ‘m gonna cum, Buck!” You exclaimed, walls repeatedly clenching down on him. “That’s right, doll. ‘Fuckin squeeze me.” He bellowed, his own thrusts growing sloppy as he neared his end.

Your noises raised in pitch before your arms gave out and you collapsed forward, instead opting to cross your arms and rest your head on your forearms.

“Gonna cum in this sweet pussy, sweetheart.” He said through gritted teeth, his thrusting growing sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Do it, fuck, I-” Your words died out, your body wracking with shivers as your second orgasm of the night overtook you. 

It wasn’t long before you felt his seed warm your insides, painting your womb white as your eyesight went white, and your pussy sucked him up for all he’s worth.

Your chests heaved.

“I still hate you.” You huffed.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” He said through a smile.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 11

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang

Part 1

Billy slammed his bedroom door after yet another fight with his dad. His father wasn't keen on his son skipping school and being a victim of a brutal attack wasn't a good enough excuse. He pulled out his phone dialing Stu's number. It rang and it rang which was unusual. No one answered. 'Maybe he wasn't home?' Billy wondered quickly realizing Stu had no place to go. He dialed again hearing the mind numbing ring. Finally Stu picked up.

"Hello?" A woman spoke. "Uhm is Stu there?" The voice on the end belonged to his mother. A person Billy only met twice. "No, Stu went... Oh shit honey where did Stu go? What's his little girlfriend's name?" Billy listened closely trying to hear all of the conversation. He could barley make out a man's voice in the back which he assumed was Stu's father. "No not that one she died remember." Billy raised his eyebrows in surprise. Even he wasn't that insensitive and he murdered her. "Y/n, Stu is staying at Y/n's." Staying?

Billy laughed nervously. "No I don't think I heard you right ma'am. Did you say "staying?"" She rubbed her forehead wanting to hang up on the strange child. "Yes he moved out while we do renovations. Goodbye now." The line died leaving Billy to piece all this together. It was almost laughable. He managed to lose the only two people he cared about on this horrible planet and both of them were probably fucking without saying so much as one word to him. Billy grabbed his things deciding to pay you and Stu a visit.

The drive back to your place was nice. He had a plan and things always ran smoother with a plan. He parked a block down the street deciding to walk the rest of the way. Your bedroom light was on making it easy for people like Billy to see into your life. He was ready for the worst. Maybe he'd break in like a scorned lover and kill the both of you. It'd be poetic but it would easily trace back to him. With your fragile little heart it'd probably stop knowing you'd been caught.

He lifted the binoculars he brought up adjusting the lenses so he could see. You walked into the room wearing some nightgown that resembled something he's sure his grandmother wore. You were holding a bowl handing it to Stu who sat on the floor. Once you sat down you were completely out of view. Billy cursed under his breath as he thought up a new plan.

"You can't hog the m&ms asshole." You threw a blue one which he caught like a seal. Stu raised his eyebrows surprised he actually caught it. "I'm impressed." You clapped and he did a half bow sitting on the floor. "This is one of my favorite's." You said pointing towards the movie that just started. Stu rolled his eyes. "Everything is your favorite." He passed you the bowl of candy. "What is this again?" Stu asked only paying attention to long haired actor.

"Benny and Joon. I saw it when it came out with my ex." Stu was interested in that story but he let it go knowing how much you wanted to watch your movie. "Billy should grow his hair out like that." Stu said before he popped a handful of candy in his mouth showing you the mashed up contents. "Why are you so nasty?" He laughed looking back towards the TV. "No, long haired boys have too much power over me. He keeps playing though I'm going to buzz off what hair he does have."

You were oblivious to the man in your home and Billy was scared for you. No wonder you needed someone to protect you. The key was still in the same place it was Saturday after they left your house. He wished he could relive that day. Billy heard his name so he stopped moving trying to hear what Stu was saying. He thought you were furious at him but you talked about him like he was still your friend.

Stu laughed. "In that case I'll grow mine out." He was only half joking. "I think you could pull it off. Grow it too long though you run the risk of looking like Shaggy form Scooby Doo." You teased tossing a m&m up letting your friend catch it. "I'll keep it like it is then. I have thought about dyeing it though." You squinted picturing him with different colored hair. "What color?" Stu scratched his head in thought. "White or maybe frosted tips." You cringed at the thought of frosted tips. "Fuck I'll make sure never to play poker with you. Damn." He laughed at the obvious face you made.

Billy crept up the stairs just enough to be able to see in your room. "Oh shhh. I think blonde hair would look good on you but frosted tips is just too gay even for you." He gasped as he brought his hand up to his forehead like he was about to faint. "Yeah you're probably right." He dropped the act eating more candy. "Besides once we graduate we'll pack our shit and leave. You could dye your hair whatever color you want. What's your opinion on cottages?"

You sat on the bed with a big bowl of candy while Stu sat in the floor at the end of the bed. Billy was relieved and a little disappointed there was no sinful act happening. Where did this leave him though? Were you both just waiting for him to make a move? You didn't tell him how to fix things and that bothered the hell out of him.

"You're worried about frosted tips being gay but you want me to live in a cottage with you? I might as well wrestle naked with Billy outside just to show off to the neighbors." You pursed your lips. "Include baby oil and I'll be there." Stu laughed scrunching his face. "You are an absolute freak. Me too." You both laughed eventually focusing back on the movie.

It was nice to know Stu was still his usual self but it was odd seeing you adapt to who you were around. The baby oil comment which Billy did not want to unpack is something you'd never say to his face. You were carefree around Stu and it felt like for the first time since he met you he was seeing who you actually were.

"Someone's at the door." Stu said pausing the VCR. You groaned knowing Billy was showing back up to either kill you or try some stupid attempt of convincing you that you need him. "I'll get it. Stay up here I don't want a fight." Stu nodded laying back on your floor. You walked to the front door trying to prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen. "What do you want Billy?" Billy had a small window of time to back out.

"May I come in?" He asked and you knew he was about to put on an Oscar worthy performance. "You may." You said bemused as you moved out of the way letting him in. "Can you tell Stu to come down here I need to talk to him too." Your blood ran cold. Billy knew and you were both likely dead. "How'd you know?" The door locked in placed once you shut it. "I called his house and his mom picked up." You sighed nodding your head. "Hey Stu, can you come down here?" You called out worried for the both of you.

Stu was terrified. He felt like a child in trouble. The walk of shame down the steps was especially embarrassing seeing Billy at the end of them. "Hey Stu." He said sending the boy a small smile. Your new roommate shot you a look saying something along the lines of "what the fuck?" Billy knew he had to choose his words very carefully. "Um can you both just sit down for a second?" Oh yeah the cops were sure to find you and Stu tomorrow.

Both you and Stu sat on the couch looking at your friend stand in front of you. "I'll be the first to say I'm not good at this." He looked to the floor only looking up once Stu spoke. "No kidding." He joked but you looked at him with eyes that could only tell him to shut up. Billy chuckled before talking again. "I'm sorry." You analyzed those two words over and over in your head. They sounded genuine but they couldn't be coming from Billy, could they? "I am sorry for what I did to both of you. Stu I'm most ashamed about what I've done to you."

Billy was walking on eggshells here. His eyes darted over at you reading you expression. You weren't mad. Stu has suffered Billy's wrath way longer than you've known him. "I really do care about you, I'm just scared of what people think about me. I hate the way people stare at us when we're out in public it makes me want to peel my skin off. I shouldn't take that out on you or make you feel as awful as I do. So I really am sorry." Billy's words worked on Stu you saw it in real time. You still couldn't figure out what was genuine and what was bullshit.

"Y/n." It was a good start but how was he going to finish it? The moment he tried to put the blame on someone other than himself you swore you'd beat his ass. You and Stu would have a body to dispose of. "I was and still am a horrible person. I never once thought about how you felt or how what I did affected you because I never cared." It hurt but it was honest. The way kids stared and whispered about him today, he couldn't begin to imagine what you went through on a daily basis.

"I'm going to change." You laughed dryly turning your head away from him. Billy dropped to his knees in front of you holding your hands in his. You were losing. He knew what he was doing and it was working. "I'm going to get better because I can't imagine a world without you and Stu in it. I know you can make it on your own but I can't. I need you a million times more than you need me and I know that. Not just to cook or clean but I need you to squeeze my arm when you watch a scary movie. I need you to call me out on my shit when I'm obviously spinning a story my way."

"I need you Y/n." Stu looked at Billy never seeing him open up like this. "You don't even know me." You quipped trying to be the voice of reason. Billy's voice cracked as he spoke. "Then teach me. I'll take notes if you want me to. This whole thing was to start over. We could bump into each other somewhere and we will meet for the first time all over again. I just need you Y/n, whatever version you give me I'll be happy to have." You lost. "Will you two excuse me for a moment?" You politely stood up going up stairs to your bathroom. Shutting the door you then turned on the faucet to full blast. The sink was going and eventually so was the tub. "Is she running water?" Billy asked worried he had done something wrong. You screamed so loud Stu honest to God thought the neighbors would call the cops. "Is she okay?" Billy asked standing up to go check on you. Stu stuck his arm out stopping him. "She does this."

You calmly returned, both the boys worried you might pass out from the length of the screams. "What do you want?" You asked Billy as you leaned on the door frame. "What do you mean?" This time he just wanted your forgiveness. He wanted to try again. "I accepted your apology. What do you want from us? Do you want us to go upstairs so we can some a threesome or are you actually wanting to figure this out?" It was sarcastic but you saw the brief second of consideration pass your friends faces. "I want us to be friends again at least. Did you know some bitches sat at our water fountain today?" He looked at Stu starting a whole new conversation. "Are they blind we sit there everyday?"

You snapped grabbing their attention. "I'm not fucking around. If we do this we do it right. I'm not getting hurt again and if I do I'm cutting someone's balls off." Stu put his finger to the tip of his nose quickly. "Not it!" He shouted making Billy smack his arm. "Ow man I was joking." He wasn't joking. "Am I understood?" The boys looked at each other not sure if they should feel this way about you right now. "Understood." Billy said as Stu echoed him. "Great! Now who wants dinner?"

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

Part 12

A/N: I am absolutely in shock by how much love this series is getting. I just wanted to let everyone know that the taglist is now closed. Thank you all so much for being so kind and supportive. 💕

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)