#idk why i bother tagging all the names but damn

[cardinailed0]

some deceive inc art I've made over a while!! this is a very very fun game that is on sale rn iirc so 👀👀👀 if you like multiplayer shooters with stealth and style then do check it out please please pleasepleaseplease

[rowarn]

Some days ago you mentioned you hate x reader stories that are clearly x OC. BRO ME TOO because I literally JUST saw a post on a blog that tagged their OC facts post as character x reader. Another peeve is when it’s an x reader where no description is used for reader but then the readers family all have names and other specific physical descriptions. And using the x reader tag when the post is not remotely related to character x reader. Idk if you’ve seen a blog responding to hate asks using all of the cod x reader tags. Like why?

i got soooo much beef with the ppl on tumblr and the way they nonsensically tag things bc why r random poorly edited memes in the smut tags does it look like i'm gonna jerk off to that wtf??????????? get outta here !!!!!!!

also i have not seen that but it's perfectly plausible that i have them blocked bc i block ppl who clutter the tags with nonsense 😭 nothin worse than bein on a streak of readin BANGER FICS and then someone random decides to use every character tag to answer an ask asking about op's favorite color

i ALSO have beef with ppl who put in the writer tags complaints about how people write said characters it's super rude and just a big ick for me which is why i also block ppl who do that like keep it on ur blog not in the tags ppl use to post the writings ur complaining about PLEASE 😭

and YESSS why do ppl even bother making readers appearance ambiguous if ur gonna hit everyone with "your birth mother and father have piercing blue eyes that change color with their mood and strikingly blonde hair and pale skin" like DAMN WHAT WAS THE POINT

i could go on for ages about complaints i have it's like one of my biggest pet peeves about tumblr 😭

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

I read in one of your tags that you seem worried that Richard hasn't posted for two weeks, also in regards to allegations being maybe stirred up again.. do you ever worry that the whole mess will start anew? Idk, I have such a deep rooted, maybe irrational fear that someone (or better, some ladies on IG) will try to bring the band down again in various ways. It even prevents me sometimes from enjoying the content here because my head is spinning with worry. I just would like to hear your thoughts.

You really don't have to answer, please feel free to ignore this message.

hi! Yeah, i read some of the rumours floating around, and i do worry,

because on one hand: if there was any really damning stuff, why did it not surface last year when the whole allegations situation was in full swing... i refuse to go to the social media accounts involved myself (not giving attention), but from what i read the insinuations are pretty vague and could mean loads of things (including not having to do with the allegations at all)...

but on the other: there seem to be people who are really eager to stir stuff up, they seem positively gloating about... and with Rammstein still having a bad name in Germany (Flake's podcast still hasn't reactivated) the least snippet of 'new information' can cause a whole lot of new trouble. And the accusers don't really seem to be bothered anymore by what's true or not, what are facts and what aren't, and the collatoral damage they are causing by throwing unsubstantiated allegations around (both to the accused, but also, to people who have suffered from similar situations and are now not been taken serious anymore)

and I hope the band really closed ranks after last year and gotten closer in support for eachother...🌺

so yeah...some thoughts were triggered by these rumours...but i'll stop posting about it, until some actual new stuff happens or is alleged, and then we'll take it from there 🌺

[crybabychim]

nah that's just too much imma give my 2 cents on the matter while I can

girlie deleted all the posts where she answered asks from ppl who were calling her out and is being petty about ppl not being smart enough to understand smth she explained "3 days ago" like tf ? not only that but I've been "following" her moves from afar for a while now (which didn't require any stalking skills since she floods the tags daily) and she used to have a self presentation post where she would say that she "doesn't support the LGBTQ+ community" while simultaneously saying that she "isn't homophobic" however she used to have a banner that was explicitly homophobic as it wrote "raise your hand if you support the LGBTQ+ community" while the picture behind it were the bts members sideeyeing awkwardly, hands down. she's been weird through and through and is also part of why strwb3rrynini deactivated but that's only secondary. I guess she thought that deleting and constantly changing her account's name and layout would make all that disappear down the abyss of internet but hey! surprise ! it didn't.

I'm sorry to dump all that here on your account :( but since you have great visibility and given how people feel so at ease to speak down on you like that over such a matter, I thought it would be best to share what I had to share and say about her.

sorry again for the bother and take care. don't listen to the haters, you're simply amazing <33

(PS/ I guess she'll deny all that but I have proofs if needed that I'll gladly share through dms to you, although I truly believe it shouldn't have to go that far, but I couldn't stay passive given the recent events happening w her on this platform.)

well damn. I'm not even surprised at all. using the image of bts to spread homophobia is disgusting. I didn't feel good about her interacting with the tea blog to bring down strwb3rrynini, I should have trusted my gut.

her first explanation was awful, but she deleted everything so ig it's forgotten (its not). it's the internet, though. you either own up to it or leave the platform. at least I hope the smart people distanced themselves from her and her blogs.

nah true, I didn't ask for anything but her followers felt really at ease to try and guilt trip me. playing the victim doesn't always work yk. don't ask why someone blocked you; you'll never get anything positive out of it lol.

the only thing we can do is not acknowledge her which ig will be difficult considering we share idk how many followers and people don't care who they support as long as they get their smuts.

anyway, I believe you, and I have so much more to say lmfao but it's out of subject... my DMs are always open...

take care xx and tysm, I appreciate it 🤍

[peacesmith]

MS. DEATH

GENRE — uhhh idk not fluff, not angst, canon i guess

CHARACTERS — saccharine death

PAIRING — none

CONENT WARNING — mentions of murder, death (a lot), pregnancy (?), saccharine kills like two people okay

NOTES — i really really like how this turned out, it’s really just a backstory on how saccharine became the villain for TSK and somewhat why, idk just read it

TAGGING — @its-that-guy-again @bambikisses66 @leftsidebonfire

Saccharine has never found a place to call home. Death seemed to follow her everywhere, literally.

Death wasn’t even her last name, at least not legally. Not yet. Not in the early 2000’s. She didn’t know her last name, just changing it wherever she went. Whatever human she married, she couldn’t bother to remember the first names of anyone. They weren’t important anyways if their blood would be on her hands anyways.

It’s all so stupid. Human customs were weird, especially in the early 2000’s. Americans were even weirder. Modern women were terrible, as a woman herself, she thought they were terrible.

Back in her time, women were allowed to be tall and intimidating. Now they were all petite and dated men 15x times their height. She never understood. Saccharine would prefer a man who was just as intimidating as her, height be damned. If he couldn’t stoop up to her level, then he’s pathetic. And pathetic, weak people, needed to be removed. Especially when she’s on a mission.

She only married the men to get close to their friends, to get close to them in general. To find someone who was strong. Mentally and physically. But all she came across was pathetic, worthless humans. She thought that maybe her presence would bring out someone who had powers. But no luck.

With a sigh, Saccharine drops the head of the man she just married a few days ago. It was a grueling process. Luckily the man was desperate enough to marry her within a year of knowing each other. Overdosing didn’t work, the man had a strong tolerance for drugs. She should’ve known. So she took matters into her own hands.

Her sword grazes the floor before putting it back into her sheath. She’ll go undetected. She wasn’t in the system anyways. Her body died over a century ago. She was pronounced dead over a century ago. Whatever, that’s irrelevant to her right now. And for the rest of her life, or lives in this case.

Cleaning the sword was the least of her worries at the moment. Right now, she had to figure out her next plan of action. She didn’t mean to kill the guy so quickly, he was just… unbearable to be with, to look at. He whined so much that she couldn’t take it anymore. ‘What was for dinner?’ ‘You’re not gonna do your makeup?’ ‘Can we go out to eat?’ It was all so frustrating. So she just decided to kill him. Easiest plan of action really. But now, where will she go from here?

“Pizdets.” She muttered out in her native tongue before walking away. Making her way to the bathroom. She opens the door with her bloodied hand and walks inside. Looking at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like hell. Watching as her third eye opens up.

Something wasn’t right. Her third eye pupil was… dilated. It’s never dilated. Not until now. The Russian glares at her reflection as she tries to figure out the issue.

Although her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening. A woman screaming and crying. Must’ve been his mistress. Great another inconvenience. She’ll worry about the third eye later, right now, she had another nuisance to get rid of.

Somehow, she ended up in North Carolina. A state she was unfamiliar with. Given that she hated traveling, she didn’t have much of a choice.

Saccharine looks around at all of the people, walking, driving, drinking and whatnot. They were all wearing some sort of revealing clothing. Girls barely wore shorts, they were so small it seemed like underwear. Men without shirts, where were their decency? Despicable.

It was the middle of June but the heat didn’t bother her. 84 degrees was nothing to her. She walked through the busy streets with a long sleeve shirt and tight dress pants. High heeled boots, ones she stole from the mistress. This weather was nothing. Sure she got a few looks, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to wear sunscreen or anything like that so she felt above these insects.

Orange obscured her view as she walked, looking for her next target. Someone who seemed strong. Someone who could help her find that stupid gem thingy. Wherever that source of power she felt was coming from.

A loud siren broke her train of thought. The white and red vehicle passing by. An emergency, she presumed. She would’ve ignored it if it wasn’t for the strong energy she felt coming from that stupid ambulance. Saccharine huffs, guess she’ll be hunting an ambulance today.

It didn’t take long to find the hospital either, with a bit of persuasion and listening, she found the stupid vehicle. Watching as they rushed a woman into the hospital. A man next to her. Her initial thought that the energy was coming from the man, it made sense to her. But the more she stayed around, the more she realized that the energy was coming from the woman. A pregnant woman at that.

Oh fuck, it’s the baby.

Saccharine huffs and follows inside the hospital, after the nurses and what not rushing the woman inside. The woman screamed so loudly, in ‘pain’ she presumed. How weak and pathetic. Watching as she cried on and on about the baby and pain.

The nurses rush her into one of the available rooms and closes the door. Saccharine stands outside of the door, hand reaching to turn the knob until a voice called out behind her.

“Ma’am, are you a relative of the patient?”

Saccharine freezes, slowly turning her head towards the female nurse. Her hand retracting from the knob. She’ll try her luck later. “No, I’m not. Just a close friend that’s all. I’ll be leaving now.”

She starts to walk past the nurse for a moment before pausing, looking at her from her peripheral vision. Feigning innocence for a moment, she speaks to the nurse.

“If you’re not busy, I’ve seen to have lost my way. Could you… walk me out?” She slightly pouts at the nurse, hoping she says yes.

The nurse gives her a smile and nods, starting to walk past her. Which Saccharine follows close behind. If she remembers correctly, there should be a storage unit nearby.

And she was right, because not too far from the exit, she stops the nurse.

“Are you… new here? Miss.” Saccharine asks from behind her, this causes the nurse to pause and turn. A bit confused from her question but decided to answer it anyways.

“Yes actually, started a few days ago. So I’m trying to get to know everyone.”

“Great, I’ll finish that task for you.”

Before she could respond, Saccharine grabs her and drags her into the storage unit. Tossing her in there before walking in behind her. She closes the door. All that could be heard was a few thuds and the sound of someone being impaled. It went quiet for a moment before the door opened. Saccharine walks out in the nurse’s outfit. It was slightly smaller, but it’ll have to do. Walking out, she wipes her bloodied hand off with a towel she saw from the unit. Getting rid of the bits of the nurse on her fingers before tossing it. Not caring who found it.

It was surprising to her on how long labor took, given that she doesn’t even remember exactly when she was born. Other than that it was some time in October. Yet again, irrelevant.

She stared at the sleeping woman, it was currently past midnight, one or two in the morning. Most people were too busy operating or doing something else. It didn’t matter to her. She opens the door quietly and closes it the same way, locking it for good measure. Walking past the new mother to the baby. Leaning over the baby, she casts a shadow over it. Looking over, she leans closer.

A girl, how cute.

She could just almost spit on the white-haired newborn. Almost. She had some decency.

Sighing, she picks up the baby and resists the urge to strangle it, moving her finger to open up her eyes. Once she does, her eyes slightly widen.

Royal Blue. Fuck.

She then puts the baby back down, watching it stare up at her. Participating in some sort of impromptu staring contest. Not before the baby smiled at her. It didn’t move her one bit. She could just strangle it right now. Which, she almost did, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned closer to the baby.

“You think you’re so cute hm? Not really.”

She leans back up and looks around the room before spotting some papers on the table. She walks over towards them and picks them up. Looking over them. She was about to put them down before something caught her eye. A name.

‘Būni Alessandra Crostata.’

“Hm, Būni huh?” Saccharine hums and walks back over to the baby and leans over her once more. Smirking as she whispers, “You’re not strong enough, no not yet. But know, by your sixteenth birthday, we will meet again. There’s no doubt in that.”

The third eye opens, pupil dilated as it gazes at the sleeping child. Staring at her. Those damn royal blue eyes, abnormal white her. She knew that baby wasn’t normal. She knew that baby had the power she needed. Her third eye glows for a moment before disappearing. Continuing her speech.

“And when we meet, I will take your power, one way or another. Because you’re finally a worthy opponent. I know it. Even if I have to kill for it.”She gently touches her cheek as the baby watches, her bright blue eyes open again. Staring up at her.

Death always seemed to follow her wherever she went. And she embraced it. Death, seemed like a home, something that she was married to.

“I will find you, Miss Crostata. And you will know my name, remember it Būni. Saccharine Death, Būni Crostata.”

She then pauses before speaking.

“Or, Ms. Death, for short.”

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

Rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 blogs you’d love to get to know better!

Tagged by: @gayvillainerainera (open tag hehe and it looked fun!)

Name: Katie

Pronouns: she/her

Zodiac: leo sun, sagittarius moon, virgo rising

Height: 5'3" (if anyone makes a short joke I will bite you)

Time: 00:59 bby

Nationality: Irish babe

Favorite band: Oh man idk, I do love Måneskin and The 1975, ADORE Florence + The Machine (I never know to list the group as a band or just focus on Florence but I adore the music either way, and if you weren't gonna read it in this category, you'd read it in the next) and La Femme, love me some Cocteau Twins, but I've been getting into Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Type O Negative lately! Also vibe with The Radio Dept. And much more tbh but the list will legit keep going so I'll shut up now hahaha :P

Favorite artist: Outside of the aforementioned, Lana Del Rey. Also love The Weeknd.

When you created your blog: Originally in like 2014 or something?? But my blog got flagged for no damn reason back in like early 2020 so then I set up this one. Still occasionally use the other one, but mainly to reblog specific things/signal boost, given I had a sizeable follower count.

The last thing you googled: Madeira famous drink (the answer I was looking for was poncha)

Lucky number: Not telling!

Other blogs: @mademoiselle-katie (the OG blog that is like an old abandoned saloon which is frequented by ghosts rip; if I like one of your posts, that's the url you see). There are some others but I never really use them. @la-fxmme-damnee was a kinkier one I made but I had to keep logging in and I am lazy so. Not bothered to keep it up unless I get traction there lmao.

Why I chose my url: I felt like a change and was watching an old Edwige film where her character was accused of being a "coquette", and I sorta can behave like a coquette (in the original sense, not the Internet Type™ ) and wanted something a little dark, so added "malefique" bc it felt right. I can indeed be an evil coquette, or a nightmare dressed like a daydream (sorry to use the lyric but like...it is lowkey me lol).

How many people you're following: 1,024

How many followers: 1,122 (on this blog, but the OG has 1,192 and a history blog I seldom use now has 1.5k)

Average hours of sleep: Lord knows, nowadays between 7 and 9 I think.

Instruments: My voice 😌 I used to play violin and piano but gave those up. Did tin whistle in primary school lmao. Sorta harmonica (keep losing the harmonica bc I'm an idiot fml). Have been considering doing harp - for a variety of reasons.

Currently wearing: big, fluffy pyjama top and fluffy pyjama bottoms

Dream trip: GOD SOOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!! Various destinations across mainland Europe, but I'd really love to see the Nordic countries and the midnight sun/aurora borealis (depending on time of year). <3 Mexico, Cuba, Thailand and India would also be super cool!!! There are some others too but I've already talked too much :P

Fav food: omg sis I love food way too much, Sicilian olives, hummus, kabanossi, brie cheese, fettucine alfredo, pizza, ratatouille, this ratatouille lasagna recipe my mom makes, blinis, smoked salmon... <3

Fav song: okay i have several atm: Passaccaglia by Ennio Morricone, Dominion by Sisters of Mercy, Christian Woman by Type O Negative, Bela Lugosi's Dead by Bauhaus, Cat People by David Bowie. I have many others including all-time faves but these are current ones.

Three fictional universes I wanna live in: none thank you (that I can currently think of).

I shall tag: @little-miss-scare-all666 @bodhitreebluebird @neednottoneed @sonybuzz42 @bouncing-flowers @jazz-vampire @mirandasinclairs @blackwoodbanshee @cafeomancer @catherinebronte (if you guys wish to, ofc!! no presh if not), and anyone else who'd like to do it! <3 It's great fun!

[littlelovingmouse]

i will say this about getting shadowbanned: it has in fact led me to engage a lot more with posts than i used to, i.e. i talk a lot more in the tags than before

knowing that no one but the people who follow me, and who are active on tumblr at the same time as me, can see my tags, it's been freeing, actually

like, i reblogged a post a few days ago, that i'm still thinking about; it said that the wonderful thing about tags is that it's impermanent commentary that only your followers will see, so it doesn't bother the op like a direct addition to the post might

but in my experience, that has never been true, even before staff added the feature that lets you see what tags people add to your posts and to the posts you share when they reblog from you

i got yelled at a few times in my asks by people who disagreed with my tags or just didn't like them, so while i used to tag things properly, i have since stopped using tags almost entirely, and most things on my blog are untagged and impossible to search nowadays

like yes, don't make original posts about how you hate a thing, only to tag them with the thing it's about, so that users who do enjoy it don't have to suffer your negativity, that's just basic courtesy

but it used to be that, as long as you didn't name the thing in the first five tags, no one would see it, and reblogs don't show up in main tags either

and now everyone can go on their activity page and see what tags people added to a post when they reblogged from you, and all the tags people add to your original posts, too

and even before that, people would often check tags!

but like

if i use tags to keep track of things, and be able to find them again later, i should be able to use whatever tags i want

and if i want to add commentary that will only show in the tags, i should be able to do so; i should be able to give my opinion on things on my own damn blog

and truth be told if poll votes weren't anonymous, or if i knew people could see my tags, i wouldn't add any at all, and i wouldn't touch polls with a ten foot poll pole

sorry for the rambling, but i'd been wondering why it was taking me so long to poke staff again about un-shadow-banning me (de-shadow-banning me? shadow-un-banning me? shadow-de-banning me?), and i think that's why

i've often felt like i wasn't actually welcome to interact with the fandoms i'd joined, which is why i'm almost always a lurker, who only likes things, but does not reblog them

and then i always feel bad when i see posts complaining about this, but like, idk, i'm not sure what i'm trying to say here, i do understand that artists and writers can find it upsetting when people tag their work with triggering or squicky things, or when their original content gets tagged with character names and ships and stuff they don't like

... anyway, my conclusion here is that i've always chosen wrong on those super power quizzes, my ideal power isn't telekinesis or flight, it's clearly invisibility

i just don't want to be invisible all the time, otherwise it's kind of lonely

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Don't kill me but what is por

Also which popular ships and characters don't you like? (I literally just had surgery and am in pain so I will take anything that distracts me from reality! Even discourse)

PoR is Path of Radiance, the ninth FE game. If you're still unsure, it's Ike's first game.

I hope you feel better very soon! Please take something to knock out some of that pain!

Popular ships I don't like rly do be like (disclaimer: i may still write some of these for comms bc unfortunately we all need money to live)

D1miM@ri (another anon asked me abt why I don't like it but I haven't finished my reply so it's been sitting in wait...)

D1midu3 (I have a LOT of strong feelings against this one)

D1miF3lix

L1nCas (I don't... hate but it's reeeally not for me)

Don't rly care for F3rd1ebert, it's rly whatever for me but I can't reasonably see it ever working out bc Hubert would never leave Ed3l for him, and I can't imagine a feasible world where Ferdie would aid her and actually be in character (did you see him in three hopes lol they REALLY trashed his ENTIRE character and brain so he could simp for her, I'm not even kidding)

Mercie/Ann3tt3 (damn if girls can't just be close friends in media or they're automatically shipped romantically smh)

Cl@udel3th (so many nos for me on this one. not gonna explain why bc it's my personal pref and I rllllly don't feel like going over it but noooo no no no. Particularly F Byleth, I have an incredibly massive aversion to Claude paired with F Byleth. idk why my brain decided to have such a drastic separation based on M or F Byleth but it did)

Cl@ur3nz

R@phn@tz (is it popular? idk I don't like it lol)

H@pi/C0nstanc3 (p much the same issue as Raph+Ig and Mercie+Annette)

I have them written all weird to keep them from showing up in the searches bc the search engine will pick ship names that are just written in a post even if they're not tagged. I know it wouldn't be my fault for that but I'm aware it's an issue and that it might be seen by those shippers just trying to search for content, so I'm writing them abnormally in hopes the searches won't pick them up.

I don't hate them all with a burning passion to the point of being disgusted when I see them, BUT I do feel that way with four of them. I guess three and a half really bc one is like yes it bothers me a LOT but I don't think it's on the same level on the other ones?

I just have Preferences and Feelings and for some reason sometimes those feelings are like yeehaw you don't like this ship.

Characters:

We Know The One (Edgelordturd)

Berandetta (one of my most hated characters in the franchise. Tolerable in Hopes)

Marianne

Lysithea (I don't have like, absolute disgust for her, but... yikes)

Leonie (MUCH more tolerable in Hopes and a significantly better character there)

Fleche (not just related to the whole AM route thing, but in general I find her to be extremely repulsive as a person)

Randolph (less hate than his sister, but damn sonny, this is the face of a man who is spoiled, selfish and has no care or consideration for anything in the entire universe except his status and his uwu sister)

Ladislava (exists purely to uplift uwugard and literally, absolutely nothing more to the point we don't even know what this supposed backstory of uwugard saving her was, so she's just another pawn to make someone look good and has no characterization of their own)

Note how the randoms from the Empire are pretty popular but they don't actually do anything to make them actual characters? they just support uwugard and do absolutely nothing else in the entirety of two games and are adored by the fandom for it LIKE NO LITERALLY and that also heightens my burning, deep, engrossed hatred of all three of them. they did nothing to deserve being such popular characters except their absolute and utter obsession with uwugard)

I don't think I'm missing anyone else who is supremely popular and utterly adored in the fandom whose face I hate seeing in and out of game but there you go, nonnie!

Lysithea is probably my least despised in the sense that I only dislike her overall but I don't just outright loathe her? She pisses me off a ton and I would literally slap her square in the face for bullying Ignatz in their Houses supports :), but sometimes she's a decent person. Sometimes. Not usually though.

No, trauma doesn't give you the free pass to be a piece of shit to other people. May as well say "I was bullied in school so now I too have gained the right to bully random innocent people I don't really know simply bc uwu it happened to me". Which... isn't okay. At all.

This is my like... lowkey and mellow version of my massive loathing of those characters LOL.

Marianne is a tricker one to say I outright loathe because I don't loathe her so much as her behavior as well as how the writers handled her character. I couldn't stand her or even remotely tolerate her entire existence in the first half of the game, I shit you not. She got better and that's the only reason I can see her and not be totally repulsed lol.

YES I KNOW I SAID IT'S MELLOW AND USED HELLA STRONG DON'T-LIKE-THIS LANGUAGE BUT! I am expressing the strength of those feelings while not being super duper extra yeehaw about it!!!

And bc I don't wanna go into detail, esp right now because to actually go over that kind of thing I have to really sit and write about it.

And like, no hate to people who like or love fictional characters. I just don't vibe with those particular characters and am forever tormented by how popular they all are lol.

[mothmanchronicler]

was thinking abt sweet pea's government name, blinked, and now i'm researching ny state reservations and the demographics of early colonizers and oh how far away from nyc that i think riverdale would be and i can pull up a map and compare the reservations that exist near the radius that i've deemed a likely distance from the city and then i can read about those tribes and note the surnames of the tribal leaders and make note of which ones start with M and i can look up the origins of those surnames and then ill look up popular baby names from 1999-2001 that start with N but that feels incomplete so i'll look into-

[perelka-l]

Make your choice

I was tagged by @hiruzensux. Thank youuu ;w;)7

ok so

milk or water / cupcakes or cake / cacti or succulents or big leafy / circles or triangles / roses or daisies / almonds or walnuts / cats or dogs / sunset or sunrise / sun or moon / polka dots or stripes / apple or android / autumn or spring / winter or summer / heels or flats / dark shades or light shades / pants + shirt or dress + skirt / hair up or hair down / online or in store shopping / snail mail or digital penpal

i would like to tag @writhingbeneathyou @sazandorable and @turstrigo and whoever the heck feels like doing it. or not doing it. idk, i dont visit tumblr anymore these days, i have no idea whatsoever who is even active on this website have mercy on me. 

[chippedaxe]

Title: Make Things Clear

Warnings: !TW. STEPCEST!, !NSFW!, degrading, pet names/ degrading names, swearing, teasing, etc.. Pairing: dom!George X sub!reader Pronouns: they/them GN ANATOMY Synopsis: Gnf is a bitchy step bro and this is just another one of your guys' fights, only a little more heated. And naked. Word count: 3K Note: In terms of anatomy for the reader, the only 'body parts' that will be mentioned is: nipples/chest (either flat chest or breasts) /hole (either vag hole or ass hole)/ wetness (either ass lubricant, idk the name, or vaginal lubricant)

- I kinda hate this but whatever T-T I wanted to actually write this with way more words but there was already a lot more words there than I normally write. I normally write around 1K-1.5K but this one is 3K

If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn’t stepcest content and you’re able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the ‘tw stepcest’ or ‘stepcest cw’ tag <3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You stepped through the doorway, bumping into it gently as you were trying to collect your surroundings. You were still half asleep and very very tired, you didn't even know why you woke up in the first place until you were tumbling onto the fall face first.

"Ew, watch where you're going idiot" George spat at you. There's your reason for being awake, this snobby little man had woken you up with his loud obnoxious video calls! It was hard not to get up when his high pitched screechy voice was bouncing off the walls and ringing through your head, it fucking sucked having a stepbrother!

It's incredibly cliché to have the 'stepsiblings who hate each other' kind of bond that you two have but its not like you can fucking help it! George is a whole new kind of annoying that is just unbearable to deal with! You'd be a whole lot happier with a whiny baby brother who dribbles everywhere and can't do anything for himself - oh wait, you already do! Except he isn't a baby, he's a full grown man who should be doing actual things instead of tormenting you!

You groaned and rubbed at your nose, pulling yourself up off the floor. Your vision was still all blurry from the sleep in your eyes so you moved your hands to rub at them and hopefully clear your vision. As soon as you could properly see again, your eyes landed on George standing at the kitchen counter making toast. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe at his tired face so you got flashed with the sight of his stomach and chest.

"God damn."

Clearly. You weren't thinking straight.

Because obviously - you wouldn't have said that if you were.

"Ugh, what??" George turned around to face you with a disgusted look on his face. "I mean.. God damn, you're taking a long time making toast- aha." it was awkward how you were trying to explain yourself. However, George bought it, so it didn't matter how pained you were throughout that whole experience.

"Tch. Impatient much? Can't even wait for me to finish making my toast, you gotta always butt in with your neediness!" the way George spoke to you made heat rise to your face. You couldn't always tell if it was out of anger or from being flustered but neither could he which I guess is what ultimately mattered.

"My neediness?" You questioned "YES, your need to constantly obsess over me and annoy me!" George rolled his eyes at you before continuing with his toast "obsess? I never obsess over you! And you're the annoying one!" You complain "How am I the annoying one? I literally like never bother you ever" George scoffed "You're literally always scoffing at me and rolling your eyes in my direction!" You told him "And how does that bother you?" George asked nonchalantly.

"Ugh, you fucking suck! You fucking- cock sucker!" you shout out him before walking off, pausing for a bit when you hear him mumble under his breath "You're the cock sucker." he spoke to himself. "What was that!?" you walked back in immediately and got up in his face "I said that you're the cock sucker, bitch" George snapped back. "NO. You're the one who's sucking on Dream's cock, I hear you talk with him every night. Oh Dream, Come back Dream- Shut the fuck up"

"I do nothing like that with him! And why're you obsessed with cock sucking? You into me or something?" George teased you. You stifled a bit, this wasn't the first time he's said something like that to you. He normally says it to get his own way, knowing you'll give it up in fear or anyone thinking you like your own stepbrother. "Who would be into you? You're a mess!" You crossed your arms "Speak for yourself, I bet you make a mess of yourself every night thinking of me!" George accused you.

"WHAT!?" You audibly gasped, backing up a bit "I do not!" you were thinking about storming off when George did it first. He grabbed his toast and turned to walk away, putting it in his mouth before spitting it out "Gross! you made me burn it!" He shouted "Guess you are what you eat. Crusty, burned out and disgusting" You made fun of him "I'll show you disgusting you-" George turned around to face you.

You decided not to back down and got in his face as well, both of your chests pressing up against the others. "What're you gonna do? Hit me?" You taunted him "I bet you have the strength of a weak kitten" You flicked his nose and laughed in his face, George bit back and shoved you to the floor. You hit the ground "Kids! That's enough, stop fighting!" His father called out to the both of you.

"George, you apologize to your younger sibling now." he spoke up "But Daddy!-" George exclaimed "No but's George, you apologize now" George groaned in annoyance. George sheepishly crossed his arms and lowered his head, eyes never meeting your gaze as he mumbles softly under his breath "I'm sorry" he says quietly. "What was that?" You push him further "I said. I'M SORRY." George repeated again with more anger in his tone.

"Yeah? For what? For shoving me? For annoying me for the past year? For being born? For what?" You grinned at him when he suddenly had enough. He didn't shove you this time, only bumping your shoulder as he walked away. You laughed to yourself victoriously, knowing that your actions would come back to bite at you later on.

Your eyes landed on the mess George made in the kitchen, the burnt toast he spat out now on the floor. You sighed to yourself, once again you would be cleaning up after him. The adult baby. You knew it wouldn't take long but it still annoyed you, bending down to wipe the crumbs off the ground and putting the paper towel in the bin.

You slowly walked to the dining room where your stepfather was, sitting down at the table with him to have a conversation "Uh.. Dad?" you spoke up "Yeah? what's up hun?" he looked up from his book "Has George um.. Always been this way?" You asked "Well he's always shown his love differently, that's right aha" your stepfather laughed to himself slightly. It was sorta awkward but it was bearable.

"There's no way that thing could love anyone!" You commented before then remembering who you're talking to "I mean-" he cut you off "It's fine. It's just normal sibling bonding, I'm sure you'll be able to see the real side of George one day" your stepfather glanced back at his book "Did you know the main character of this story is completely different to the movie? It's super weird but it's kinda cool how they are able to show the different perspectives in that-" and that's when you knew it was your cue to get up in leave.

You tuned out the volume of your stepfathers voice, just letting him ramble to himself about his book as you walked upstairs to your bedroom. On the way you noticed George's door was open, thinking to yourself that you could berate him a bit more for his mess in the kitchen but then deciding against it. Never the less though you still decided to check in on him, knocking on the door before entering.

"God, what do you want?" George didn't even look up from his phone "Nothing. It's just uh- your dad's a dork" you joked light heartedly "I know right? He's a complete nerd for his science fiction books" this was probably the first time you saw George smile around you. Your eyes lit up a bit as you saw it "Your smiles nice, why don't I see it more?" you asked him.

George shrugged, the smile slowly disappearing "I dunno. Maybe it's because I'm normally totally miserable when I'm around you?" he glanced up at you for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to make the relationship between us better? I don't like how we're.. I don't know, so far apart?" You wanted you two to be closer but you weren't sure George wanted the same thing.

"I don't know, you're pretty annoying so maybe you can just stay away" George put his phone down now "Well how can I stop being annoying?" you ask "I don't know! It's nothing specific! It's just- everything about you ticks me off! Your smell, your hair, your voice, your stupid face!" George yelled at you. That's when your brain finally got it.

"George. That.. Sounds a lot like love to me?" you were uncertain if it was good to tell him that but the look on his face said it all. His eyebrows raised and his face went slightly red "Wha- Love? You? NO! You're disgusting for even thinking that! I'm sure you're just projecting your love onto me!" George disagreed with you.

You were sure of your thoughts, you were sure that you were absolutely correct and had no doubts about it. "Maybe I am" You responded quietly under your breath "Wh- What?" He looked at you to meet your gaze, "Maybe. I. Am." you repeated again "That's so weird! And gross! And disgusting! I should tell Dad-" You cut him off.

"Or.. Maybe you shouldn't?" You never usually had this type of confidence but I guess today is opposite day. "What're you implying here exactly?" George seemed suspicious of the whole thing, admittedly he was correct to be suspicious but that doesn't make it any less hurtful.

"I'm just saying! Is it really the best idea for your father to find out about us?" You crossed your arms, a small grin painting your face. "B-But we didn't DO anything! YOU'RE the one with the hots for your stepbrother, I don't like YOU!" George exclaimed loudly "Maybe if you say you don't like me one more time than you'll actually start to believe it!" You snickered to yourself.

"You're so annoying!" it seemed like George had almost given up with his 'bitchy stepsibling who hates the other sibling' trope but he hadn't exactly "Then I think you should do something about it and shut me up huh'?" you knew what you were doing when you spoke to him- what you didn't know was how he'd react.

George leaped at you basically, pushing you onto the floor and straddling your hips. I'm sure he didn't mean for his actions to be so sexual seeing as he still looks to be seething with anger, but you can't lie and say that him holding your wrists above your head now ISN'T somewhat kinky. "George! Let go!!" You tried to wiggle your way out of his grip but he stopped you "You told me to do something!" George smiled down at you victoriously.

After a few seconds of silence you speak up "So. Are you gonna let me up or?" You asked "Nah I'm kinda bored and seeing you struggle on the floor is entertaining me. Besides, what else would I do?" George rolled his eyes "Kiss me." You were quick to say, making George shoot a look of embarrassment and nervousness at you.

"A- A kiss?? Are you serious? That's a terrible idea!!" George was obviously now flustered from your idea, his grip slightly loosening but you didn't think to try and break free. "You're totally right! I bet you're a terrible kisser anyways" You knew it'd break him, "I AM NOT! I'll have you know that Dream says I am an EXCELLENT kisser!" George shouts out "Oh yeah? Your online boyfriend said that?" George grumbles at you "He- He's not my online boyfriend!" he puffs his cheeks out slightly.

"Well. Prove it then. Show me how 'excellent' you are" You say while also using your fingers to do air quotes (doing the best you can considering being tied up.) "Wh- Fine. I'll prove it to you!" George leans in and roughly presses his lips against yours, not even trying to find a rhythm between the two of you as he's already rushing through it. You feel desperation in his kiss. He doesn't say it but he was desperate to be kissing you.

You try to keep at his pace, roughly kissing him back. You use your teeth to gently tug on his bottom lip as you two are kissing, causing George to hesitantly open his mouth. Your tongue pushed inside his mouth to fight for dominance but quickly lost as George shoved his tongue down your throat, the two of you kissing for a while until you pulled away for air.

"So I was pretty good right? Told you" George showed off and gave a smug look "Yeah.. Really good" you hadn't meant to say it out loud but the words had made a blush creep to George's face. "Huh??" he turned his head away bashfully "I- uh- liked it a lot" you were now embarrassed too from what you were saying "Well I didn't! You sucked- you were totally too slow!" George lowered his head so you couldn't see his face.

"Well maybe it would've been easier for me to keep up if you weren't so desperate for my lips" You teased him "WHAT? H- How dare you say that!?" George seemed like he was angry again as his hold on your wrists got tighter. "George-" you croaked "What!? What is it!?" He groaned in annoyance "I want you to kiss me again, please?" It was a little bit pitiful how you were begging for him "now look who's desperate for my lips?"

You closed your eyes and waited for him to finish talking so he could kiss you, him quickly taking the hint and leaning back down to your lips. George listened to what you had said before and tried to take it slower, his eagerness still showing as he was still slightly fast at it. You couldn't help your actions. You really couldn't. Otherwise you wouldn't have done it. Your hips rolled up to meet his, making him gasp into the kiss and pull away gently.

He didn't even have any words for you.

He just stared down at you with an unreadable expression.

You slowly repeated your action, lifting your hips up but he quickly pinned them down. Your hands were now free. Not sure what to do with them, you kept them above your head. "You're such an annoying sibling, so fucking needy and horny, disgusting" George scoffed "You're acting as if you don't constantly take it up the ass by Dream" you laughed but shut up when George's grip on your hands tightened.

"That's it. You wanna act like a bitch? You can treated like a bitch. Take off your clothes now." George moved so he was now seated between your legs on the floor. You hastily started stripping off your clothes, your eagerness to get naked was quite embarrassing but you didn't notice. Your nipples hardened when they felt the air hit them, the air cold from a draft coming through the vent.

George flicked the buds as he saw them. Grinning to himself, his eyes glance up at your face to watch your reaction. You flinch slightly but not from pain, wincing at the sensitivity from them. "You're not that annoying when you don't talk and also obey me" George smiled down at you, making you shiver ever so slightly.

George grabbed at your bottoms, tugging them down and pulling them off. George giggled at your underwear for a moment "What? What're you laughing at!?" you pouted "Nothing, nothing, it's cute.." he snickered to himself once again "I just think it's funny how they're my favorite colour is all, like did you plan this?" George asked.

"No but I always secretly hoped you'd have enough of our bickering and pin me to a wall and fuck me!!" you gasped "Really!?" George's eyes went wide, you were sure that comment probably fueled his ego a whole lot more "No idiot. It's literally just a coincidence."

George sighed sadly before taking your underwear off, his hand dipping down to slowly rub at your wet hole "I'm gonna fuck your sweet hole since you think I like taking it up the ass, okay?" George said it with the cruelest tone but you knew that he was asking for your consent so you nervously nodded your head.

You feel yourself being opened gently as George slips his two fingers inside your hot hole, a lewd squelching sound coming from you as he fingers you. George seems to know what he's doing as he's stretching you open, drawing a soft moan from you "Ah- do you have experience from fingering your ass?" you asked with a playful tone "Wouldn't you like to know perv?" he replied with the same playful voice.

After a few moments you let out a breathy sigh "I think- if you're ready, you can put yourself inside.." You tell him. George tugs his pants down just enough so his cock is free, rubbing the tip on your wetness before sliding himself in finally. It felt like your whole life was now complete that you were finally fucking your stepbrother, the forbidden apple you wanted for so long. Ever since your mom first bought her boyfriend and his son to your home, you had been in love with him.

George thrusted in and out of you "A- hah- Are you sure you're not gonna get tired during this and need me to ride you?" You weren't sure why he was letting you get away with all these snarky comments but you were glad he was. George ignored you and thrusted his hips deeper, skin slapping against skin as he thrusted deep inside of you.

The tip of his cock pressed against just the right parts inside of you, making you now a writhing mess on the floor. "You look so good like this.." George groaned into your ear, his words basically sending you over the edge. George scoffed "It hasn't even been that long! You're super bad at this. Whatever, I'll just grind on your thigh to get off" George rolled his eyes "W- Well next time I'll show you and make sure you cum before me!" you challenge him.

George's eyes glanced up at you with slight curiosity "Next time?"

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Note: This is not proof read and this is unedited. This also was not requested at all, I just had a dream abt George and felt like writing this (the dream was nothing like this fic but whtvr)

[brainrotcharacters]

Name Me

ship: Steven Grant x introvert!fem!reader

unofficial part 1 because it’s ur choice i’m just writing over here damn :/

a/n: to the past me that doubted Steven as a dual wielder, HEY. HEY. YOU STUPID.

word count: 2171

tags: Steven vs reader's parents, obvious avoidance of a last name, Steven fighting as Mr. Knight, reader gets kidnapped, crime + violence + blood because it is the spine of every superhero project ever, idk how sedatives and adrenaline shots work, reader is also a dual wielder.

--

"Where is she?"

Steven blinked at the sight of your parents at his doorway. A spot at the base of his spine shifted. Wait.

The moment they swing, Steven...

The facial features that reminded him of you looked tense and guarded under the dusk light through the hall's window. True to his past in the business, your father controlled his expression. Your mother's eyes flitted between every possible entryway, a hand to the gun holster at her side.

Steven shifted on his feet to match their movements. "Good evening, Mister and Missus--"

Your father shoved past him, crossing the flat in strides. He took one look at the messy shelves, Egyptian antiques, and the ring of sand around Steven's bed before he bellowed your name.

"She's not here, sir." Steven's stern tone fell unheard. He was actually off to the location that Layla gave him, one step ahead from the parents who now spiraled into panic before his eyes.

"I don't believe you," your father practically spat at him. Steven did not flinch, nor did he look away or change his stance. "You never liked us. Ever since she brought you home, I thought there was something off about you. You would take the first opportunity to have her for yourself."

She wouldn't mind. Marc said. He knew Steven agreed.

"Steven," your mother's smoother voice floated from outside, "If you know anything, you have to tell us."

"I do, actually." Steven allowed himself to be calm now, and not later. "They reached out to me. The kidnappers told me where she was taken." a less specific, more exposed area than what Layla provided, but Steven felt good about himself today.

"Why would they tell you?"

"Hey," your mother aimed at your father, using a similar grounded tone to yours whenever Steven or Marc spiraled too quickly, too deeply. "Focus. Steven, where?"

Seeing the opportunity to piss off your father, Steven faced your mother completely as he shared the location.

On his way out, your father snarled. "After this, you and her are over. The kidnappers bothered with you to buy themselves more time because they know her parents are coming. I'll kill them all, you understand me? You can't protect her the way I can."

Steven watched them walk away, before releasing a heavy sigh. "That last part hurt me a bit, not gonna lie."

Forget about it. Let's go.

The suit of Mr. Knight began to wrap around Steven's regular clothes. "You don't expect me to believe you haven't thought about it, do you, mate?"

Steven, please. Shut up.

"We're talking about this later."

The mask covered Steven's face.

--

"How many does this make?" you giggled as another syringe full of sedative was lifted within your blurry vision. "You have to give me the list of doses. This is the best sleep I've had in a while."

"Is that why you're so happy?" the ringleader, a brown haired young man, stepped closer. The exits of the warehouse were blocked from your vision. "I've never met someone who wants to be sedated before."

"I thought you knew what my father was like?"

He shrugged, watching as a different syringe was injected into the side of your neck. A pained groan slipped past your mouth as you lean into the singular pole you were bound to. You could have sworn you felt the fluid rush into your veins.

"I know he's a man of science, so I wonder: what happens to his beloved daughter when, after five days of being sedated, takes epinephrine on the sixth day?"

Your eyes shot up, head rushing with the movement. "You just gave me adrenaline?"

He steps away, motioning to the snipers and the fighters. "Your father was amazing at what he did, and he enjoyed it. Then he got married and had you, a sweet little thing whose childhood couldn't be more different to his. But you're still of one blood."

"It's still red. Trust me."

A punch from a different direction caused you to keel over, spit and blood mixing on the stone at your feet.

The leader vaguely considered the mess. "So it is."

--

Your parents have been subdued - not without numerous gunshot wounds and dislocated, broken, shattered bones sustained by the enemy, but they were still put down. To your left, your father is heavily bound and gagged, knuckles torn and bloody from the countless punches he landed. Across the floor to your right, your unconscious mother is bound in rope, faced away from the both of you.

The leader watched sweat trickle down your face. You could've sworn you could smell his disappointment. "You burned through the sedatives, but nothing more. The adrenaline could stand to increase your heart rate until it eventually collapses."

"Y-You want me to..." you swallow, trying to soothe your drying throat. "My father to watch m-me die, that's it? That's a bit weak, yeah dad?"

Your father fought against the chains, looking between your faces. The young man that he scorned considered you. "I know it's weak, Y/n. It's the greatest insult I can deal your family."

Slow, leisurely footsteps echoed against the walls of the warehouse.

"Stop right there!" Both enemy and ally turned to see Mr. Knight, adjusting the cufflinks of his suit as his pace quickened. The white of his clothes stood out in the middle of the dark crates of drugs across the space, as well as the night sky behind his head. Steven heard Marc gasp. No. Sweetheart, what did they do to you? Steven took all of one second to glance in your direction before he swung a fist at the closest gang member, then kicked his friend in the chest. Gunshots rang across the space, peppering the suit with red spots that stopped spreading after a while. Unbothered, Steven fished out a single crescent blade, slashing at the next knee and next elbow that came too close. His other hand wrapped around a baton, striking sides of heads and some ribs. Someone slapped the blade away from his hand and landed a punch on Steven's face. Steven swung his weapon at the man's ribs, using his  momentum to spin to his back and shove him away. The next crescent blade flew into the leader's confused face, burying into the underside of his left eyebrow. The force of Steven's throw knocked him to the ground, face up towards the ceiling as dark red blood burst from the wound. Everyone paused. Despite the mask, you could tell Steven scowled at the splatter of your blood on the floor as he rushed towards you. "What did they do to you?" "Adrenaline-- sedative, then adrenaline..." you shook your head erratically, grabbing his crescent blade to begin to cut through the ropes around your wrists. "I'm fine. Help them, please?" Steven freed your father first, and he burst into motion towards the dead leader. Your mother had been woken by the ruckus, and studied Steven critically. The sound of tearing rope drew their attention towards you as you took two staggering steps. Steven noticed your tense shoulders and heaving back before he saw how dilated your pupils had gotten. You were staring at the gang members who raised their guns and fists once again, ready. "Shall we?" he offers with an outstretched hand, both of his batons appearing now. You clutched his crescent blade, and moved to find yourself a gun. You moved as quickly as you could think. Marc took a moment to mention it, after you dodged several bullets and hurled the blade at the gunner's neck. You simply giggled, taking a common dagger and marking your next target. After a particularly beautiful swing across someone's chest, a massive hand clamped down on your wrist. The barrel of your handgun nestled against the man's neck before you pulled the trigger, already using your right elbow against another face instead of wasting time seeing the damage. When the ground was littered with bodies and you still ached for more, you knew this adrenaline would take a while to wear off. You focused on gathering your parents to you, in the same beat that Mr. Knight jogged to your side. You noticed your parents try to block him from you, and easily swiveled around, reaching for your boyfriend. Steven opened his arms and held you in an embrace, lifting you from the ground as he sighed in contentment. "We thought we lost you." "Just beg Taweret again. You're her favorite." you joked, and Steven released you from his hold with a chuckle. "Y/n," your mother's voice trailed off, and you turn to see them looking between you two. Steven squared his shoulders. In that suit, your mind swan dived for the gutter. How nasty did you have to be to provoke him like that, to make him begin to take you seriously in a simple, minimal action tantamount to fixing his suit mid-fight or rolling his sleeves up? Something about that wall at the corner of your vision suddenly looked inviting. He looked at you, and your focus sharpened. "Go ahead. Say my name." he considered. "If you want." If you wanted two more people in your life to know that Steven was perfectly capable of protecting you. If you were willing to let your parents know that whenever they watched him concentrating on a book or his Rubik's cube, he committed a similar level of intent to each cut and strike he dealt the people here tonight - and would deal to anyone else who tried to take you away from him. Wouldn't want to get Taweret in too much trouble, after all.   You took a steadying breath, looking between him and your parents with shining eyes. "Steven." His mask fell away into his collar, curly hair bouncing a bit. His familiar brown eyes were bright with adoration as he scanned your face, then turned towards your parents. "I knew you sounded familiar," your mother muttered, running a hand across her face. "B-But why-how...?" Your father closed his mouth, clearing his throat as he moved towards the entrance. "Let's go." -- Steven's flat became more interesting to your parents as Layla's voice was heard through the screen. "I think I should stay in town for a little while longer next time." "You're making me look forward to having you back." Steven handed you a glass of water before settling down beside you on the bed. You ignored the cautious glares from your parents. "I don't like to worry about any of you halfway across the world." she frowned. "I'm not good at it." You smiled, feeling your energy levels dip down. "We'll keep our phones close." "Promise me." Marc giggled, a sense of nostalgia at Layla's stern tone tugging at him to front. "We promise. Love you, baby." "We love you, Layla." Her eyes softened at your fond tone. "I love you guys. Bye." Once the call ended, your mother lifted a picture frame. "This is her? Layla?" And it was the critique in her tone, the crispness she used to enunciate the two syllables that made you lean into the solid presence at your side. "Steven." He took a moment, and then stood from the bed. His English accent sounded so polite. "If that'd be all, I'm sure you still need to check your own house, just in case? We all know Y/n struggles to relax in a room filled with people." Your mother opened her mouth as if to retort when your father leveled a look at her. Then he shifted his attention to you, debating if you would accept a hug or a kiss from him as of now.   "Let us know when you feel better," he led the way out. "We need to make sure this doesn't happen again." Steven followed slowly. Your mother went on ahead, and your father turned to face him. "I'm sorry." Steven allowed him the silence to consider. "All I want is for her to be safe. You have to understand that." "To understand you? I could never." 

Steven. Even as Marc reprimands him, Steven heard the amusement in his voice.

All right. "I'm not her dad, I'm her boyfriend. I can't begin to fathom what it's like to care for another person like that, but I do understand caring about her." When your father sighed at the words, Marc encouraged Steven to continue. "I'm not trying to take her away from you. I wouldn't do that to her." Those were the exact words that should be running through his mind when he thinks about forcing you and Steven apart. Your father drew in a deep breath, and clapped a solid hand on Steven's shoulder. Then, he strode away. Steven looked back to see you laid down on the bed, half awake against the pillows. He slides into the space beside you, gathering you in his arms. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his scent. "Smells like a friendship between you and my dad." He hummed, brushing your hair with a hand.

[bollur]

tomorrow, summer ends // percival de rolo (1/?)

a/n: this was a beautiful idea from a couple of lovely people: @strawberryjamwitch & @theriverstyx-runscopper (i'll tag you two in each addition, and if anyone else wants the same let me know) and i really couldn't pass it up. i hope no one minds that this is going to be multiple parts as my imagination ran wild and it would feel far too rushed for me to put it into a one-shot.

this is set in a little more of a modern!au, so things might be a little bit different. maybe i'll botch (i'll definitely botch it bc that's all i do with anything actually) it like a bad nose job and it'll be uber shitty, idk, but i'm gonna keep on with it bc my brain laid an egg and i am determined to hatch it. im so fired up rn i don't even care if everyone hates it.

now excuse me while i go try and feel again. p.s. no i couldn't think of a better name for the doctor so just sue me already

It was almost chaotic, the setting of the office; papers strewn and books scattered on glass tables, chairs moved in an unorganized fashion, and he could see the specs of dust floating in the sunlight peeking through slitted blinds. One would have to wonder if this was actually a respectable establishment with its unkempt appearance. Perhaps whoever took care of the managerial aspect could blame the fact he was there before opening but is a place not supposed to look its finest at all times in case of an inspection, and if operating times really mattered why was the damned door unlocked?

He idly picked up a Cosmopolitan magazine, only to carelessly drop it back down on the table, not even bothering to give an uninterested once-over, an overwhelming need to do something. A moment of silence passed his thoughts, like a radio tower shut-off and suddenly he exhaled sharply, hanging his head, slowly leaning forward and allowing it to lightly bump the wall. That tower powered back on, bringing massive feedback in its wake as he asked himself one simple question:

Why the hell was he here so early if he didn’t even want to be here at all?

He could have laughed at the predicament that question now left him in, and what better place to sort that out if not in this fucking office. He could take the time to dwell on it, but as the front door to the office suddenly flew open with more force than needed, his back straightened and he wiped any noticeable expression off his face, bringing himself back to a presentable front. Percival wished he could say the interest working its way onto his face was feigned, watching you look back at the door in confusion before you cautiously closed it, opened it, and repeated the process at least twice. “Oh,” a soft noise escaped your mouth, and if he hadn’t been listening intently, he probably would have only heard incoherent mutters. “I guess he fixed it.”

There was doubt in his mind about this place, to begin with, so maybe it was biased that he wasn’t surprised the door was apparently broken at one point, or perhaps it was just his desire to be anywhere but here, rather. He was bound and determined with a negative attitude to find everything he could wrong with this place, an excuse to never step foot into it again. He didn’t need to be here - it was only a waste of good money for him to not be here.

It was only a waste of good money for him to be here.

Perhaps he could have stopped staring - well, yes, he should have stopped staring, actually. With the group of people he associated with, the idea of someone being perplexed by a door really shouldn't have interested him so much, or maybe their uninhibited actions were beginning to rub off and have some influence on him. So when you turned around, finding him staring at you, he couldn't do anything but quickly turn his head to stare interested at the wall, just a hint of heat rising to his cheeks.

Good on him for trying to use the typical 'i actually happen to find this non-existent spot on the wall the most interesting thing in the world' play of action, but looking at it now, he couldn't deny that it was a rather beautiful shade of sage green. He might have to remember that - his workroom was in need of a new coat soon, maybe a change wouldn't be bad for it. Everyone (whose opinions really didn't matter) kept nagging at him to brighten it up there, but he wasn't about to do it because they told him to.

A soft titter met his ears, pulling him to glance from his peripheral. "Well, this is a disaster," your head turned, surveying the room.

It was obvious you were talking to yourself - you had no reason to address him, he was a stranger that you - him assuming - embarrassed yourself in front of. But Percy couldn't help but quip sarcastically, "On the contrary, I thought it looked rather charming." you stopped mid-push of returning a chair to sit against the wall, gave a small snort of amusement, and finished your mission.

Silence fell over the room, the only sound being your shuffling around, moving things here and there. Perhaps he could have been ... less rude and offered to help, but it wasn't his job (if it was even yours - you didn't look like you worked here), he didn't even want to be here.

Why was he here?

'It's just not healthy to bottle everything up, darling,' the sound of Vex's voice echoed in his mind, reigning on top of a cluster-fuck that could build in his chest until it exploded and shatter his ribs for all he gave a damn. At least, he told himself so, because what was the point in any of it?

Percival de Rolo was well enough acquainted with the villains that lived in his head that he had become bigger than them, better, meaner. He beat them away in his shop, pounding iron and steel to the heat of the forge until they were nothing but a material molded for his personal use. His heart held vengeance, hatred, and his soul craved for the idea of redemption on what was taken from him and he could bury them behind a consistent pile of work that would occupy him for hours on end, a sickening feeling of power as he used and manipulated them as he had been.

Inwardly he felt himself wince because when he put it that way, of course, it sounded wrong, but he was dealing with it in his own comfortable way. What was so wrong with that? He had made it this far in life with a devil on each shoulder, so why did things have to change? Fingers dug into the fabric of his pants, fists lightly clenching, the silence in the room rang in his ears, and he could hear the thrumming of his own heart. One might find it soothing, but to him, it was only a reminder of what he lived for.

Looking up, Percy was met with a set of eyes looking at him from across the room - he expected pity, muscles tensing before he even read the expression on your face, but he was met with a sight of apprehension. He wanted to throw a snide remark as his lips pursed in displeasure, but when he held that gaze, feeling irritatingly vulnerable, a timid smile crossed your lips and the golden rays peeking in the room felt a bit more alive.

Whatever connection was being made broke as the door flung open once more, the both of you quickly looking away, amaranth light dusting your cheeks as the air in the room became quickly awkward. He could vaguely make out your fingers fiddling with the corners of the pages of your book, but he was trying not to look at you. Not that it wouldn't be fair with how you so rudely watched him like he was some bird in a fucking tree.

"You must be my 9 o'clock," a new voice entered the room, and Percy looked up to see an older (though not much older than himself) gentleman with tied-back hair and a shadow of a day late shave.

They exchanged a firm shake. "Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III," he confirmed, letting his hand drop to his side. "But you may call me Percival."

The man smiled, nodding his head. "Wonderful - I'm Dr. Mercer, but you can call me Matthew, or Matt if that makes you more comfortable." Percy held back his look of distaste at the man in front of him. There were no real hard feelings, he didn't even know this man, but he couldn't help but slightly project his undesire to even be here.

Nothing could make him comfortable right now.

Dr. Mercer's face changed, confused, looking between Percy and you for a moment. "How did you two get in here?"

Neither of you skipped a beat responding to his question:

"The door was unlocked - "

" - you forgot to lock the door, again."

He found himself looking at you once again, both of you perplexed before turning away quickly, looking in opposite directions once again. He could see Matt flash a quick but very curious look between the two of you. The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly. "At least there's nothing important in here."

Yeah, there was definitely nothing that could Percy comfortable with being here.

The walk back to his actual office was uneventful, to say the least. Percival could only keep a straight face, mentally running through a hundred scenarios and answers to different questions, perhaps in a way that would cut all this short and he would never have to come back again. Walking through the door, all Percy could think to himself was that at least it was more organized than the waiting area.

Matt gestured to a seat, any seat, in particular, Percy assumed as there were three armchairs and a couch, before sitting down in one of his own beside an end table that had a legal pad, a cup, and a pen on it. Once he took a seat, the Doctor rubbed his hands together almost playfully. "So, Percival," he began laying his forearms across the arms of the chair, his one hand resting right on his notepad. "How - "

While anyone would appreciate the casual setting, a Doctor trying to seem normal for a situation akin to walking on thin ice. It would have been comforting if he had half a mind to even care about being here. "Listen, Doctor," Percy began, sitting down in the armchair right across from him, crossing an ankle over his knee in a subtle display of comfortable dominance. "I'm not here for you to prevaricate your questions - in fact, I'd be rather insulted by it," he admitted smoothy, gaze not wavering from the Doctor.

There was a moment of silence and Percy could feel his finger methodically tapping against one that it was laced with on his lap. Hostility it was it could very well be viewed as, and while he felt like he had something to defend, it wasn't a lie that if he was going to sit here, he wasn't going to be treated like porcelain that could crack with one wrong word.

He was stronger than that.

Dr. Mercer's demeanor didn't change one bit, in fact, he seemed almost more relaxed than before. "You're right, my apologies - we're both adults here," he agreed, nodding his head and proceeding to ask: "So, why are you here?"

Now that was the fucking question, wasn't it?

Whatever flame Percy held in his chest slowly began to simmer out, dwindling down to burning embers and he felt his breath catch in his throat, suffocating him. He had an answer, he just needed to say it. It wasn't hard. He had faced horrors beyond this. But why did something within him hold back on his scripted words?

Collecting himself, his back straightened. "I'm here because a group of assholes decided to pay for several sessions in advance," he began steadily, igniting the flame of confidence, building up a wall as sturdy as Rome. "and one of them values money more than life itself."

"So you don't feel the need to be here?" Matt asked genuinely curious, and they watched each other intently. "There's nothing you want to talk about?"

It was an honest question that would receive an equally honest reply. "No," Percival responded, turning his head to look out the window. The sun was shining, birds plucking berries from the trees and the sky was clear, and he was wasting his time here. Not that he would even be outside enjoying it if he wasn't. "I don't believe in talking about the past when it cannot be changed."

A thoughtful noise came from Dr. Mercer, followed by a soft click. "I see,"

Percy's eyes narrowed slightly, turning his head to look at the Doctor in suspicion as the sound of writing. "You - what are you doing?" he asked, seeing the doctor's hand off to the side, moving the pen against paper. "What are you writing?"

Matt only gave him a sheepish smile in response, finishing his work and then fiddling with the pen between his fingers, flicking it back and forth like a metronome and Percival sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Maybe he should just let Vex kill him for letting the money go to waste. He felt like it already was.

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)

Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though

↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me

5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]

5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]

The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.

It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.

You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.

You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.

[New Messages: Red]

Babe, you there?

Read 5.38pm

[New Messages: Red]

Babe I got practice at 8.

I know you're reading those.

Read 5.39pm

[Red is typing…]

[New Messages: Red]

I'm outside btw

A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.

He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.

He shouldn't be here.

His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.

Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.

Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.

[You]

Can't do it today

Sorry

You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.

You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.

You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.

"Babe,"

The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.

He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.

He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.

Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.

"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.

"Eijirou—"

"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."

It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.

You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.

His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.

You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.

Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.

"I'm just not in the mood today."

"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"

He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.

He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.

You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.

But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.

It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.

"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."

You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.

"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.

You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.

With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.

Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.

But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.

You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.

And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.

"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"

You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.

But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.

"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"

You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.

"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"

Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.

Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.

You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.

You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.

"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"

You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.

"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”

Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.

And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.

You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.

"You love me too?"

"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.

"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"

He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.

Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.

If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.

"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."

His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.

"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.

"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"

You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.

"You did, didn't you?"

"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."

He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"

"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."

No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.

Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.

You don't want to fight and he knows it.

He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.

So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.

"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."

Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.

"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"

You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.

He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.

You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.

…

The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.

When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.

And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.

That's how everybody knows about the two of you.

This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.

It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.

It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.

His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.

When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.

Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.

He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.

It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.

5.30am [Missed Call: Red]

5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]

[New Message: Red]

Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?

Delivered: 5.31am

[New Message: Red]

Did you have sex with him?

Babe answer me.

Delivered: 5.32am

[New Message: Red]

I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.

And I'll come over.

Babe.

Babe please.

Delivered: 5.33am

[New Message: Red]

I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?

Let me know when you wake up.

I love you.

So much.

Delivered: 5.38am

Read: 10.23pm

[You]

(Attached Image)

Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.

I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.

[Red is typing...]

Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post

↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo

[danniburgh]

Hunger; a RushBit Drabble

Drabble no one asked for in commemoration of National Eat Her Out Day:

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Word count: idk i wrote this in the app

A/N: it's national pussy eating day, man, let Javi celebrate (this is canon RushBit, after chapter 25)

fic index // Masterlist

gif: @bestintheparsec

The grocery bags were heavy on your hand, you damned the time the store had changed from paper to plastic, as the handles were almost digging through your hand while you tried to unlock the door.

“C’mon you little piece of shit,” you mumbled when you shoved the wrong key into the doorknob; you made a mental note to mark the keys with colors or maybe just a new keychain, as you hadn't memorized yet the keys to your new house. You introduced another and turned, it unlocked “there we go.”

You pushed the door open and walked in, not bothering to try and close it with the things you were carrying threatening to snap the bags open and spill over the floor, the house was silent and fresh, you wondered if Javier had left the AC on before leaving, but thanked if he did.

You rushed to the kitchen and left the bags on the counter, a sigh of relief left hour mouth and you opened and closed a fist to bring back the circulation in your hand.

You turned around and walked to close the door, not wanting the cool air to leave the house as the summer noon air was almost boiling. Before you could close it, the figure of Javier rushing towards the house caught your attention over the corner of your eye.

You frowned, amused at the way he was sprinting closer and closer.

“Why are you running?” you yelled at him just before he arrived to the porch steps.

“You're home early.” he let out in between pants, stepping towards you.

“I had nothing else to do for they day,” you explained with a smile, raising your hand to brush a strand of his hair out of his sweaty forehead, Javier’s hand found its place on your waist and he guided you backwards to walk into the house “are you okay?” you asked him, silently laughing at the way he was trying to recover his breath while he closed the door with his free hand, Javier nodded “why were you running?”

“I’m hungry.” he let out softly.

You frowned, Javier smirked at you and his other hand gripped at your waist, he brought you closer to him, your lower belly clashing against his crotch. You raised your eyebrows at the realization of what he was craving.

“Oh.” you hummed out.

“Yes.” he whispered, leaving a kiss on your cheek as your smile grew. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You’re all sweaty.” you muttered, Javier hummed.

“That’s never bothered you before, baby” he whispered against your flushed skin, you giggled.

“And you’ve been working,” you whispered, Javier hummed in affirmation, “go wash your hands.” you ordered him softly, Javier huffed.

“I’m not gonna use my hands.” he growled, as he wrapped his arms around your middle and picked you up, you let out a loud laugh.

“Put me down!” you yelled over his head, Javier chuckled a no and walked the short distance between the entrance to the living room, tossing you unceremoniously onto the couch as you almost drowned in laughter “salvaje” you teased him, sitting up on the couch as he knelt down in front of you.

“Preciosa,” he called you, sliding his hands on your thighs and leaned up to trap your lips on a kiss.

His lips were dry and smooth at the same time, his kiss was deep and almost messy; you buried your hand inside his hair, dampened with his sweat and tugged softly, making Javier growl against your mouth and reach for your shirt.

“Take this off or I’ll rip it.” he mumbled against your mouth, you giggled again and distanced yourself from him to pull up the shirt and take it off, Javier helped you with your bra, unhooking it dexterously and pulling it from your arms.

“Happy?” you teased him, Javier nodded with a smile on his face and his eyes on your chest.

“Very.” he whispered and buried his face inside your boobs, kissing and nibbling at the flushed skin, licking around the nipples as he unbuttoned your jeans, you helped him take them off by lifting your hips and he slid them down, leaving you naked and vulnerable in front him.

Without saying a word Javier took your knees and parted your legs, you wanted to ask him what did you do right for him to receive you home by getting you naked and kissing up your thighs to do it twice a week, but as his kisses and nibbles traveled further up on your skin and he looked at you in the eyes as he kissed your mound, all thought left your mind.

Javier parted the lips of your pussy open with his tongue, making a soft moan escape from your mouth; he flattened his tongue and ran it from your slit to your clit once again and wrapped your hooded bundle of nerves with his mouth, sucking gently.

“Fuck,” you gasped, his hands were holding your legs open for him and one of yours found his wrist, gripping it, as the other kneaded your own breast “again.” you pleaded.

Javier chuckled against your pussy, the vibration of the sound reverberated against you and made you sigh in pleasure, he sucked at your clit again, moving his face slowly from side to side.

He didn’t stop looking at you; he bit gently your clit and licked down again to shove his tongue inside your cunt; his mouth was feasting on your pussy while his eyes feasted on your face.

He loved making you feel so much pleasure you couldn’t even keep your eyes open; your mouth was parted as he licked inside you and swallowed the slick that leaked out of you; your breath hitched as the scent of your sex invaded his entire body and the taste of your insides almost cloyed his tastebuds; your body shook as he felt his cock begging for attention inside his jeans.

Javier kept going; licking and tasting and slurping at you, nibbling and flicking at your clit as his ears took in the moans and whimpers and gasps you were letting out.

Right before the scorching coil he had built inside of you strained apart and broke, you started mumbling nonsensical praises to him; your hand landed on his head as you pressed him impossibly closer to you, telling him how good it felt, how much you loved him, how amazing he made you feel.

You came with a scream of his name and a hard tug of his hair; Javier helped you ride your high with his tongue as you opened your eyes with a blissed smile adorning your face and your chest rising and falling with new air. You pushed him away from you and raised your arms open for him to lean up and kiss you, sharing your own taste with you.

“What was that for?” you asked him in a whisper as he helped you lie down on the couch and joined you on it, Javier chuckled and brought you closer to him, making you feel his erection through the denim of his jeans.

“Can’t I eat my woman out in peace?”

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Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.