#people who could give you a list of your ‘options’ if you said you had wings or something similarly ‘unspecific’

[plant-kin]

since queen of england kin drama isn’t immediately turning up in results, imagine this but real:

people were genuinely attacking each other to PROVE that they were the REAL queen of england. i think it took place on facebook but it was So Much that it got screenshot and put on tumblr.

tumblr kinnies may have found the desolate castle and turned it into a home, but there sure as fuck was a whole kingdom of this shit before us. fucking imagine.

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 02

-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D 

p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)

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YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board. 

Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier. 

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.” 

He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”

“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”

He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”

“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”

“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”

You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk. 

“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him. 

“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”

“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness. 

“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”

You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”

“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?” 

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails. 

“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.

“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard. 

You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.” 

At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.

His choice.

Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do. 

Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same. 

Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato. 

You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.” 

Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”

You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.” 

He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”

“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”

“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond. 

“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly. 

“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.” 

He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous. 

Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good. 

“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly. 

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”

You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him. 

“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door. 

“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.

A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you. 

You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there. 

You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city. 

Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good. 

You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?

WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.

The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade. 

Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?

Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”

She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked. 

You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:

Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed! 

What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”

“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”

You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem. 

“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”

“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”

“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside. 

“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from. 

“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse. 

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand. 

In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was. 

You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.

A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something. 

You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang. 

KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm. 

One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”

Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space. 

He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.

Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”

“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath. 

“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[fangirl-dot-com]

🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!

Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 

And apparently you had done the same thing. 

His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 

Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 

Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 

The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 

When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 

What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 

So why was it him? 

He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 

Your voice had quieted down on the device. 

“You’re going to take the offer right?” 

Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 

“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 

The American boy sighed. You had a point. 

“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 

You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 

You were hesitant to say something. 

“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 

Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.

“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 

“And what if I did?”  

“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 

You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 

“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 

Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 

Your smile dropped a bit. 

“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 

You had a point. 

Like always. 

“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 

“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 

Logan snorted. 

“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 

“I will see you in Milan.” 

The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 

The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 

“Mr. Sargeant?” 

Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 

“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 

Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 

“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 

Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 

The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 

The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 

“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 

Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 

“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 

Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 

Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 

Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 

Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 

When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 

“Glad to see you here Logs.” 

His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 

“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 

You huffed. 

“Fine, no nickname for you.” 

“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 

“Isn’t that your name?” 

“No?” 

“Logs!” 

“Ah there it is!” 

A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 

Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 

“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 

Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 

“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 

Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 

“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 

Logan lit up at the word. 

“Contracts?”

You gave him a smirk. 

“Yes Logs, contracts.” 

Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 

Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 

“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”

You and Logan had the same exact papers. 

In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 

You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 

“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 

“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Like a call sign?” 

Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 

“Exactly like a call sign.” 

You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 

Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 

Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 

Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 

The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 

“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 

Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 

“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 

“I think I didn’t add enough.” 

Logan couldn’t respond. 

You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 

The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 

“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 

Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 

“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 

You tapped his shoulder. 

“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 

“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 

Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.

“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 

A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 

“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 

“Well, I think we have you covered.” 

Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 

Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 

“How?” 

Michael smiled. 

“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 

Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 

“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 

Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 

Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 

He side-eyed you. 

“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”

You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 

Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 

“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 

Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 

Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 

“First, the car.” 

On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 

Michael pointed at it. 

“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 

You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 

The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 

Logan looked at them. 

“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 

Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 

“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 

You made her pause. 

“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 

Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 

“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 

Logan exhaled sharply. 

“No pressure right?” 

Michael leaned forward over the desk. 

“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 

Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 

Marissa continued where she left off. 

“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 

You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 

Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 

A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 

Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 

You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 

Michael lifted his eyebrows. 

“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 

You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 

Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 

“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 

“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 

Michael had a glint in his eyes. 

“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 

You decided to pipe up. 

“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 

Logan shot you a teasing look. 

“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 

You shrugged. 

“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 

Logan’s torso shifted. 

“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 

Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 

“Sorry, please continue.” 

Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 

“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 

Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 

Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 

“Are you ready for it?” 

lamborghini_racing has posted

Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?

liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others

l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE

f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this

ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑

lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?

lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?

y/nfan or even utter her name?

thepaddock_person who 🤨

childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024

box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING

taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 baby let the games begin

liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others

4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE

driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen

lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers

venus2 looking snazzy 😎

phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore

venus2 🥺

phoenix95 fine...thank you

venus2 🥰

venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART

rising_phoenix95 immediate fan

lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅

lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts

venus2 has posted

venus2 let the games begin now

liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others

lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS

pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY

lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱

c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt

hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay

phoenix95 that's sexy baby

venus2 thanks 😚

phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?

venus2 sure...sure you were 😈

box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please

logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead

y/n.nation I miss our girl so much

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[theemporium]

Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.

It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship. 

He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.

And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.

Until he met you. 

The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.

Luke was the first to notice something really odd.

“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.” 

And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”

And then it was Nico.

“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.” 

It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.

But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes. 

It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.

“Are those your own skates?” 

You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.

“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”

“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.

“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes. 

“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?” 

You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head. 

“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”

Ellen simply smiled in response.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression. 

“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.

“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.

You watched him closely. “Jack?”

“Hm?” 

“How much did these skates cost?” 

The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over. 

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up. 

“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”

His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”

“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”

“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.

You shot him a look.

“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”

“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”

Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”

.

[safination]

Mother Of Mine

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Reader, Velvette & Mom!Reader CW: Alastor, foul language, talks of murder, (Hopefully not, but possibly) OOC

Requested by: @thill20712 My inbox is still currently open. Feel free to keep requesting.So I just did a headcanon format for this. It was pretty fun. Listen, is this my best work? No, but that’s fine because it was actually very entertaining for me, and that’s all that matters. Tbh, I would actually like to turn this into a series but undergrad studies are killing me rn, so maybe in the future. I can like already see so much fun shit around this concept. Imagine the family dinners, or like Alastor going to an Overlord meeting and just unknowingly being slightly less of a chaotic shitlord to Velvette because there’s something faintly familiar or like Vel and Al just both doting on you.

Your husband died.

Everyone found out what Alastor had been doing. The city had no compassion for a monster’s grieving widow. Ha! Alastor would have a kick of your current situation, that’s for sure. It should have been you and him running for your life as the city chases you out of his mother’s home.

That’s how it should have been.

There wasn’t even time to gather all your belongings before those who wanted revenge go to fulfill their goal. Just a measly change of clothes, some emergency money, and documents. Photos never made it to the list. It’s funny how a single piece of film could pack the most weight.

As your ran for your life, cold and frightened, you heard muffled wailings.

And they called Alastor cruel. Who would leave a baby inside a dumpster? You thought about it . . . . Just for a second. The baby’s shrill cries were getting on your nerves, and there’s no way it will survive the night. And an orphanage is no place for a child to grow—you know that much.

So . . . why not? You could just end it’s suffering—Right here, right now.

Compassion isn’t your strongest trait. It’s why you never said anything about all those people who fell under Alastor’s pursuit of self-righteous justice. Who were you to care for someone you don’t know?

You don’t hate children, far from it, actually. Children are the light of this world, and they were the path to bring a better future into this world.  Such pure creature shouldn’t be stained by you. Especially, because you’re not sure if you could ever fully love a child the way it needs to love. Children deserved care, and you refused to bring a child into this world without the assurance that it would be loved.

It was an easy decision that Alastor wholeheartedly supported.

The world took away the very few things you truly loved. Maybe, you could return it ten-fold. . . but you’ve been cold and frightened before, just like this baby. Actually, you’re cold and frightened, right now. Also, just like this baby. Two cold and frightened souls.

So, with the clothes on your back, and no home to call, maybe¸ you’ll find warmth and safety together.

There’s always the option to give it—no, the child, just for a night. Drop the baby off on a porch of some nice couple’s home.

Tomorrow, you’ll give this baby girl away.

• Tomorrow never came

People keep assuming this baby girl is your daughter. You don’t bother correction them. Why should you? It’s not like you’re eager to say that you skipped state lines because of your dead, murderous husband, and basically kidnapped her.

It’s easier to let people assume.

And you can’t keep calling the baby, ‘that baby’. She needs a name eventually, and Alastor always spoke fondly about his mother.

Tomorrow never did come, and tomorrow never will come. Despite this, the sands of time trickled down.

The baby turned into a girl and the girl also grew. Part of your misses the days when she would raid your closet, and dress you up like a doll with a sharp tongue and a demanding attitude. Gone are the days when you’d be sleeping on the same bed, and gone are the days when you would tell her about Alastor.

You would tell her about the flowers, and how Alastor drove around the city, with you right next to him. The sun went down, the moon rose high into the night, and that sun eventually appeared once more. Yet, neither of you were ready to leave each other’s presence.

That girl grew, and took up a weird hobby of wanting to be called, ‘Vel’:

Vel walks into the room, her nose high in the air as she sharpens her tongue against you. “Mother, you cannot walk around looking like this!” she tells you. “The colors look absolutely atrocious. I will burn that shoes the next time I see it on your feet.”

Daughters can be quite judgmental. Maybe, you really should have left her in that dumpster.

“I’ll change my shoes if you stop calling yourself, ‘Vel’,” you tell her, smiling. “I gave you such a nice name, and it makes me sad that you aren’t using it!”

“It’s a stage name,” she says, rolling her eyes at you. So judgmental, that girl. “It’s what I’m going to be called when I finally get out of here, and such a drabby, old name like mine won’t get men anywhere.”

“Well, Vel, I got a call.” You tap your fingers across your knee, staring her down. “Apparently, Mister Joseph doesn’t appreciate being called a, ‘Pathetic and blind fool who goes to work looking like dog poop’.”

“I did not say fool or poop,” she says. “And that old fucker knows it.”

“What I want to know now is—Why?” You stroke your forehead. “What was he wearing too much brown?”

“No.” Vel crosses her arms. “Because my mother was called, ‘an unmarried whore, and who knows where that child come from?’”

“I am married!” You press a kiss on her forehead, chuckling. “It’s just not my fault my husband died not was it my fault your parents didn’t want you.”

Vel rolls he eyes, and sticks out her tongue.

You flicker her nose, and stick out your own tongue.

But time goes on, and as they do. All came to dust and all return to dust.

Of course, you’d end up in hell. It would be a shame that Alastor would never get to meet your daughter. It eventually all blurred into one. And if you didn’t give a flying fuck about others on Earth, why would you give any more fucks to care in Hell of all places?

Building kept growing higher and higher. Bright lights and television shaped morons came into picture. If you could find Alastor, surely, you would have a laughed together. Radio will always be superior. So, you kept your distance from that part of town.

More years kept passing. Alastor was nowhere to be found.

When enough time passes, things tend to loop. Like how you’re hearing cold and scared cries from an alley way. Something posses you to step into the alley. Piss and death and a sweet perfume all assault your nose. You keep walking and . . . somehow, your daughter ended up with you in hell.

Daughter really can be so cruel to their mothers.

Maybe, you actually should have left her in that dumpster. You were destined for Hell, and it seems you dragged your daughter down with you. If you did leave her, surely, Heaven wouldn’t turn away such a new soul.

You squat next to your sobbing daughter in this random corner in hell, and watch her tears with a small smile. “This is exactly how I found you all those years ago,” you tell her. “Although, you were much cuter.”

Her head snaps up, and through her tears, she glares at you. “Mother.”

“Yes, dear?

“Mother,” she says again, and fat tears streams out of her face. “What the fuck are you wearing? It’s soooo ugly!”

“I’m going to leave you here.” You blow a strand off your face, and lean against the wall, next to her.

It’s a lie and you both know it. If you cold leave her, cold and frightened next to a dumpster . . . Well, you would have done it a long time ago.

“Why are you even in Hell? Actually—Don’t answer that,” she says, that same sharp tongue somehow even sharper. “You were a nasty bitch in life. It’s no wonder you’re here.”

“Language.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Vel slumps on you, curling around your shoulder. There’s a scowl on her face even as she settles her body next to you. “You really are nasty. How come I’m only seeing you now! I’m sure even a recluse like you should have heard of me.”

“What am I doing here?” you parrot, matching her scowl. Actually, she got that scowl on you. That’s your scowl on her face. “What are you doing here? I raised you to be a good person worthy of Heaven!”

You pat her hair a bit, glad that she couldn’t see your face. Did you really drag her down to hell with you? Was it a mistake to love when your very love condemned her?

“That’s bullshit,” Vel says. “The decisions I made are my own. I’m here because it’s what I decided to do.”

You flicker her nose and laugh when her scowl deepens. “Please, please! Tell me you’re still not going by ‘Vel’.”

“It’s ‘Velvette’ now, actually.”

“That sounds like a stripper name,” you say, barking out a laugh. “I gave you a nice and proper name! Your name came from—”

“Mother! No one goes by their real names here!”

So that’s how you, sadly, found your daughter in Hell. Daughter, yes. Husband, no.

Oh, where is your Alastor?

Clothes are thrown everywhere. Your daughter has an eye for fashion and surely, you’re capable of remembering anything she’s tried to tell you. And granted, Velvette did tell you quite a lot of things about clothes . . . a bit too much.

Maybe you should call her, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her, especially since she has that show coming up. She’s worked so hard, and you’ve learned to accept that she works in such a noisy and bright place. And you have thought about those co-workers of hers, but that’s not important right now.

The door bangs open and Velvette stands there irked. “I’ve been knocking.”

You grab her and ask her about the clothes. “What do you think?”

“You know what I think about your clothes,” she says. “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“Is that the thing that keeps ringing?”

“Mother!” Velvette says, irked. “Answer my calls, and put that down! Neon is never a good color on you.”

“Then help me then!”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know where you’re going.”

You pause to think, dropping the clothe around your arms. “I . . . I found my husband,” you say. “We’re going on a date.”

 “Are you sure about this?” she says, slowly . . . carefully. “It’s been so long. What if he’s just trying to get your soul? If you finally tell me his name, I can take a look at him. I mean, there could be other –”

“No, there’s no one else,” you say with a small giggle. It’s like you’re back to being a love sick-teenager. “There will be no one else. I’ll chain him to my basement if I have to.”

 “You keep that shit to yourself.” Velvette sinks on the couch. “I don’t want to hear about this.”

“Oh sure, but when it comes to those little co-workers of yours, suddenly, every detail –”

“Mother!”

Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t leave her in the dumpster because with a snap of her fingers, you look beautiful.

Velvette crosses her legs. “I’ve never seen you this happy.”

“That’s not true.” You approach her, and press a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve had my happiest moments because of you. Maybe, you just weren’t watching.”

Apparently, Alastor and Velvette are familiar with each other. Unfortunately, they aren’t on very friendly terms. Actually, your house would say that they were on very hostile terms. It would be a drag to have to find a new house, but luckily, your daughter is an Overlord, and it seems your husband is also an Overlord.

Those two things overlapped, and when Velvette opened the door to see Alastor at your door. Well, the house couldn’t withstand their argument. Thing settle down, eventually.

Velvette is off showing her frustration on your poor neighbors.

Alastor stands proudly next to you, a constant and intimidating smile on his face despite the dirt and tears on his clothes. He watches Velvette curse and shout into the air. “Ours?”

“No, not at all,” you say, smiling as you watch your daughter. “Mine.”

Velvette stomps back, clothes also as dirty and torn. “I would rather skin myself than share the same blood with this tacky, old joke,” she says, hissing at him. “You’re not wanted here. It takes another level of pathetic to be shot while trying to hide a dead body.”

Alastor’s eyes twitch, and there’s that long, tried look on his face.

Maybe, hell isn’t so bad. You’ve got your daughter, and you’ve got your husband. A happy, little, chaotic family.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I think it's canon that stan smokes and gets high when he was younger

So I'm thinking reader (they are as old as the og mystery twins) is the type to smoke when they're stress and they say that smoking/getting high clears the fog in their brain

So how do you think stan & ford react to this? I mean they know it's bad but it helps them

Most research about the negative effects of weed I found online, whether or not half of them are actual negative effects is beyond me.

Stan isn’t a hypocrite, he’s gotten high before and so he knows what state your life must be for you to resort to getting high as a stress relief.

He fully understands why you’d always resort to doing such a thing but would remind you that you could always come to him if anything was ever bothering you instead of resorting to getting high.

‘I appreciate it but I don’t want to bother you with what goes on in my head, half of the time I can’t even put it into words that best describes what I’m going through but with this,’ you raised your blunt, ‘it helps me in ways that talking to someone else never could.’

‘Okay, just know I’m here to talk toots.’ Stanley said as he patted your shoulder and left you be.

Stan did it to escape everything and avoid the consequences of his own actions, so much so that he often abused the substance on more then one occasion, but after Dipper and Mabel came for the summer, he has later learned to cut down his smoking sessions for the betterment for the twins and himself.

So whenever he sees you heading out towards your designated smoking spot- the top of the shack- he’d sometimes join you for a smoke, especially when Ford came back and had been nothing but a stubborn nuisance as you shared common worries while the smell of his cigarette and weed was all you could smell.

Neither of you spoke but there was a solidarity between the two of you until you were done. Stan knew that it wasn’t exactly healthy but he wasn’t going to cut you off weed completely if it helped when you needed it most, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t not join you to make sure you weren’t abusing the substance like he did when he was younger.

Ford fully understands that weed is a natural product that can calm people who suffer from anxiety and stress related issues, but over-usage of it was highly discouraged.

Ford knew his brother did similar things in his youth and hated it then, but knowing that you did also only made his distaste for the strong smell stronger as he would then avoid any and all areas that you smoked in, and yet the smell clung to you like second skin and Ford was reminded of how much he hated the stuff and would try to give you something that would hopefully act as a replacement for weed.

Unfortunately for Ford it didn’t work and by the end of the week you were back to smoking weed almost on the regular to destress.

He’d even list off the risks you’d run if you low using the substance.

CHS syndrome

Elevated anxiety

Paranoia

Psychosis illnesses such as schizophrenia

Addiction to weed, if you hadn’t already formed one.

Confusions and or potential hallucinations

And so many more but the more he listed the less you seemed to care as you had relied on the weed for a good majority of your life, and did so in controlled quantities but understood Ford’s worries regardless in the matter and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m fine Ford, I know it’s not exactly good for me but it’s the only thing that helps.’ You tell him.

‘I’m here.’ Ford replied, a little hurt that you didn’t think of him as a good option for distressing.

‘You’re far too busy in your lab or out monster hunting to sit still for ten minutes and listen to me talk about my worries.’ You said as though it was obvious. ‘So weed is my only resort to calm mind.’

‘Meditation exists, so does journaling and or scrapbooking?’ Ford suggests and it was obvious that he was trying to mitigate any permanent damage you might do to yourself in the future.

‘Not my thing and I lack the patience when this mind is loud as fuck.’ You shrugged before walking up to the top of the shack to smoke, leaving Ford a little at a loss of what he could do for you now. He didn’t condemn you for your usage of weed, but he just worries that an addiction will grow from it and he wants to be there for you, he just doesn’t know how…

[wxshing-aep]

The Prom Committee (pt 1)

Ethan Morales x fem!reader

based on this request:

"how about one where y/n runs an after school club so Ethan keeps getting detention on purpose to see her because he thinks “clubs are for dorks” to quote Paxton and so his reputation as the bad boy isn’t ruined"

Warnings: swearing, banter, the word boobs

AN: decided to make it a 2 parter cause it was getting long while I was writing it and wanted to give Ethan more depth of character than the actually show so part 2 coming tmrw probs!

When his assignment was handed back by Señora Diaz upside down, Ethan wasn't surprised by the big F glaring back at him in red ink when he turned the page over.

“Stupid bitch” he muttered under his breath.

“In Español, Ethan” Señora Diaz paused on her way back to the blackboard, unsure of what he said but certain that it wasn't in Spanish.

“Sorry" he retorted and she continued her route back to the front of the classroom.

"perra estúpida”

“ethan!”

That’s how Ethan ended up in detention for the umpteenth time in his academic career, tapping his pen on the desk in the nearly empty classroom with Mr. Shapiro's happy go-lucky self staring back at him.

"Well, happy to have you here Ethan!" Mr. Shapiro greets picking up a clipboard from his desk. "Not happy to be here" Ethan deadpanned. "Sorry to hear that. Not sure how you managed to get detention during the first week of school, but hey I think that might be a new Sherman Oaks record! Congrats buddy!" Mr. Shapiro cheers before realizing the younger boy is not the slightest bit amused. "Alright, tough crowd."

"Moving right along then," Mr. Shapiro clicks a pen in his hand "time to take roll!" which causes Ethan to look around the empty classroom.

"...I'm literally the only one here"

"I know, I just love checking things off lists," Mr. Shapiro clears his throats " so do I have a Morales comma Ethan?"

"seriously dude?"

"Second call for Ethan Morales"

"you're gonna keep going til I say here, aren't you?"

"You betcha!"

"Here."

"Awesome!" Mr. Shapiro marks a giant check by the one name on his attendance sheet. "god I love doing that- Alright so unfortunately I've gotta skidaddle to help out with the faculty potluck but lucky for you sir we're implementing more of a reformative detention style this year!"

"What the hell does that mean" Ethan asked.

"It means, that instead of sitting here for the next few hours, you my friend, get to offer your help to one of the after school clubs or committees that are a bit low on helping hands" Shapiro responds with finger guns. "so guess who's today's newest member of the prom committee!"

"yea, no. I'm not joining some stupid after school club. clubs are for dorks, losers, and ugly people" Ethan responds grabbing his backpack out of the chair next to him to get up and leave.

"well actually it's a committee"

"even worse"

"Alrighty well I can see what the other options-" is all Mr Shapiro gets out before he is interrupted by your voice from the doorway.

"Oh- hey! Mr. Shapiro, did you find anyone to help with the prom posters? Eric said he'd help me out but then canceled cause he said he had to train with the assistant swim coach to quote make Michael Phelps my bitch end quote. Whatever that means, so I'm kinda flying solo here" You say, drawing Ethan's attention towards you as well.

hot damn. okay maybe after school activities are not only for ugly people. He thinks you might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen and definitely takes a mental note of your outfit that's hugging you in all the right places. He quickly realizes that he doesn't know your name and has no idea how he's never been informed of your existence prior to this moment. He's snapped back to reality by Mr. Shapiro responding to your question. "Ah- I'm sorry but Ethan is-"

"super excited to help decorate for prom" Ethan finds himself blurting out before Mr. Shapiro could finish his sentence.

"Oh- well that's great! Uh Ethan just report back by 6 so I can log your hours! I'm gonna get going, you kids have fun decorating. Go crickets!" Mr. Shapiro says, making his exit as you watch him almost skip down the hall.

"Sup, I'm Ethan" Your attention is brought back to the brown eyed curly haired boy who's suddenly standing in front of you (how the hell did he cross the room that fast, you wonder) with an outstretched hand. He never really shakes hands, he just wanted an excuse to touch you. He's cute, you note mentally. You accept the offer and shake his hand. "and you are?" he continues.

"I'm-" you pause noticing those not so innocent brown eyes are directed elsewhere, "acutely aware of the fact that you're staring at my boobs".

Ethan thinks his brain might've just short circuited cause he was definitely just caught red handed. He'd recently grown a lot more confident with girls since his summer growth spurt and subsequent glow up had dramatically increased the number of girls interested in him, but there was something about you and how you so deliberately called him out that had definitely thrown him off his game.

"Sorry- I uh- I was actually looking at your shirt. They're- It's nice" he wants to die he thinks.

You chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor. "Hmm. Yea, I know they are" you respond, turning on a heel and heading toward the auditorium.

"You comin or what?"

-

For one person, you had made pretty okay progress in a week. The current task at hand was making posters to get people excited for the theme reveal. The ground was littered with several half finished or barely started posters.

"Can you draw?" You asked Ethan.

"I'm not much of an artist"

"Really? the graffiti on the side of the school says otherwise. Your handwriting definitely sucks though so I'll do that, but the art's good and if you can do it with a spray can, you can definitely do it with some paint and markers" your unsolicited review of his graffiti made him crack a smile. His latest act of defiance had been a giant snake comically eating a cricket accompanied with the words "get fucked" on the side of the school building.

"You can't prove that was me" he challenges.

"Maybe not, but Mr. Shapiro had mentioned that I might have a detention helper today thanks to Señora Diaz and I happened to notice the words 'stupid bitch' spray painted on her car containing the same weird ass t's as the graffiti on the side of the school and here you are, Ethan."

"Damn, you're good" he pauses realizing he can't throw your name back at you because he still doesn't know it.

"Y/n" you say quietly.

"Huh?"

"My name's y/n"

Pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought.

"Alright y/n. I'll draw as long as I don't have to to touch any glitter. that shit's impossible to get off"

"deal"

"and I don't write my t's weird"

"you write your t's like a crazy person"

-

Time was pretty much flying by. Together you'd gotten nearly twenty posters done and were slowly finding out more information about each other. You were informed about some of Ethan's tattoos and how he'd actually drawn the designs for all of them himself. Not an artist, my ass, you thought. Ethan learned that he hadn't met you before because you'd previously been homeschooled and had all but begged your parents to be able to go to school with other kids for your senior year until they finally cracked and agreed to enroll you at Sherman Oaks.

"Ah I see, you're a total secret weirdo. That explains your freaky detective skills" he teases.

"I am not a secret weirdo. I just like criminal minds and puzzles"

"You were homeschooled. All homeschooled kids are a little weird"

"That's an unfair stereotype"

"Whatever you say, y/n"

"If anything you're the secret weirdo. or at least an undercover art nerd"

"I'm not an undercover art nerd"

"Yea you are. Something tells me this whole" you gestured largely to him sitting a couple feet away from you, "tortured angsty hot skater boy thing you've got going on is a pretty recent development" you comment absent-mindedly. You looked back up from your poster when he didn't respond to see him sitting there, arms crossed with a smug grin on his face.

"What?" you prodded.

"You totally just called me hot"

You're now very aware that he's a bit closer to you than he was before.

"mm don't think so"

"oh you definitely did"

"did not"

"did too"

"did not" that one came out much less confidently considering his hand had made its way to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. damn, he's good.

"whatever you say, y/n" he almost whispers. have his eyes been that sparkly this whole time? He's leaning in and you're definitely not backing away. You're maybe a centimeter away from his lips until the alarm blaring from your phone, which seemed like much better idea hours ago, sent you flying back from him and scared the shit out of both you.

"shit- I- god that scared me, I uh set an alarm for 6 so you'd remember to check in with Mr. Shapiro cause, ya know, I thought we'd both probably be busy. Um- busy making posters, i mean. Obviously I mean making posters cause we definitely wouldn't be busy doing anything else so-" you ramble.

The smug little smirk has made its way back onto Ethan's face as he is quite enjoying this role reversal from your first interaction of the day.

"shut up" you say to him.

"I didn't even say anything" he responded, hands in the air in surrender.

"I've gotta head home, but thanks for helping out even though you basically had to be here. If you ever find yourself in detention again this semester, feel free to help out. Hopefully the committee is more than just me by then" you say, starting to gather your belongings. Ethan secretly hopes it isn't, he likes the idea of hanging out with just you.

"I probably will find myself in detention again. It's kinda part of this whole tortured angsty hot skater boy thing I've got going on" he says throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"not what I said" you still attempt to deny.

"sure it wasn't"

"bye ethan"

"bye y/n"

Yea, he'll definitely be finding himself in detention again.

-

Read Part 2 here

[g1rlr0b1n]

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 👹

Gods and Demons (Preview)

Damian's preparations for departure were almost complete when Superman hailed him down. For a moment, Damian considered pretending he had not seen him, but ultimately rose to meet the two men who had now landed gracefully beside him and Goliath. He was familiar with the man known as Superman, but the second man was a stranger to him. He was tall with wavy dark locks framing a sharp jawline and piercing steely grey-blue eyes, he bore a resemblance to the other man. He had a pretty good idea now of who he might be. The man's attire was peculiar though, causing Damian to wrinkle his nose slightly in disapproval. He wore a black suit adorned with shimmering silver stars, his deep crimson colored cloak billowing behind him. The most unnerving part of his uniform however, was the obvious missing "S" shield in the center of his chest, leaving the skin underneath exposed for all to see. Damian quickly averted his gaze, focusing back on Superman. “What’s this?” Damian's features contorted in suspicion as Superman extended a piece of paper towards him.

“An olive branch” he replied calmly, then motioned to the tall figure standing next to him, Kal-El cleared his throat, “this is my son, Zod-El. He will be stationed in Tibet with you for the foreseeable future.” There was a moment of tense silence as if to allow for Damian to process the information. Then, Superman spoke again, breaking the stillness. "Consider him an ambassador of good faith," he said firmly.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms, “Tt. More like a spy to make sure I behave," he retorted with a sharp edge to his voice. The Justice League's true intentions were clear, they had their own agenda, but he intended to manipulate it to his advantage. Despite their lack of trust in Damian's ability to change the League of Assassins, it gave them an excuse to keep him under observation and under their protection. They needed to keep Damian alive regardless of his intentions because the absolute worst case scenario for them would be for him to lose control. It was an obvious choice, he was the only option with ties to the Justice League and a genuine desire to make the world better, even if his methods had not been received well by them. He could only stand to benefit from such a relationship, nonetheless, he’d make them work for it.

Superman let out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in exhaustion, “you agreed to observation after the attempts on your life," he reminded Damian sternly. The mention of those close calls made Damian flinch slightly, the memories still fresh and painful. Ever since his grandfather’s passing things had not gone as smoothly as anticipated, with everyone with even the slightest of claims coming out of the woodworks, but he survived and he’d continue to do so. Of course, some extra protection would be prudent, even though he had managed to reunite his family giving him the most claim, the attacks still occurred. His mother had even begun to express concern, certain that there was a rat among his inner circle. Damian didn’t want to consider that, the notion that the people he cared for most wanted him dead. Although it was a reality that he hated to admit, he could probably benefit from an impartial set of eyes and ears. Yet, Damian was proud if nothing else and he refused to allow anyone to think him weak.

"That may be," Damian huffed, "but I never agreed to an indefinite placement and certainly not from one of your B-list cast offs." His lip curled teasingly as he surveyed the man clad in black in front of him. He was curious to see how he would react.

The man grit his teeth and extended a hand with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dam-”

Damian interrupted firmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the man's face. “You may call me The Demon’s Head.”

The man chuckled nervously as he pushed back some unruly curls from his forehead. “No offense but...” he hesitated before continuing, “I’d rather call you anything else.”

Damian's lips curled into a menacing smile, his pearly whites barred behind a mask of feigned politeness. "Then, may I have the pleasure of calling you Jonathan?" The man remained silent, his expression guarded. Damian pressed on. "surprised that I know your other name?"

He cleared his throat, his voice betraying forced calmness as he responded, "Not really...and it's just Jon."

The smile fell from Damian's face, replaced by a look of disdain, "I'd rather call you anything else." The lack of push back from his opponent was slightly off-putting, it was simply no fun if they just stood there and took it. But then again, what did he really expect from the son of the Big Blue Boy Scout, always so righteous and obedient.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Goliath finally broke the awkward silence with a restless shift, his large frame causing the ground to tremble beneath him. "I see there's no point in arguing with you," he grumbled, casting a patronizing look at Jon. "If Super Slut is ready to depart, then we shall." With the grace of a seasoned rider, Damian pulled himself up and swung himself onto his fiery red companion, feeling the heat emanating from its powerful body. Beside him, Jon effortlessly lifted himself off the ground and into the air. The bat dragon spread its massive wings and with a few strong flaps they ascended into the sky.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Bad idea right?

Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it’s been a long time since you had fun with a guy. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body in relation to your roommate.

pairing: Michael Gavey x roommate fem!reader

warnings: p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, praising, english is not my first language. 3,455 words.

ewanverse characters masterlist

The idea of having a place only yours has always been something that cheered you up. Independence, silence and calm were very tempting qualities that always ended up being put in the background when the accounts were put on the table. In addition to the rent there was energy, internet, water, food and God knows if something breaks. You postponed the project for a long time while saving more money in the expectation of finding something more affordable, until the perfect option appeared on one of the announcement panels of the central building of the Campus. It was a beautiful coincidence actually, since you didn't used to go to such a place on a daily basis, but apparently the small white poster listed all the features you wanted in your small apartment for a price that fit in your pocket.

There was only one catch, a big catch.

The place already had an owner who was looking for a roommate.

In days past that would be enough for you to ignore the ad and follow your search, but the price and location seemed too tempting to ignore. You would give it a chance and call the number.

And then an even bigger but appeared: the voice on the other side of the line was masculine.

The idea of sharing an apartment with an unknown man was terrifying at all levels and almost made you hang up the phone. For some reason you arranged to visit the place the next day, obviously taking a friend and a knife in case the idiot wanted to play the smart.

And that's how you met Michael. Introverted, nerdy and brutally honest Michael Gavey. Obviously there was a lot of tension during the whole moment that led you to get to know the rooms and talk to him. About the place: it was quite comfortable and bigger than you expected, really organized and warm in the cold season of the beginning of winter. It was ridiculously pleasant. And as for Michael, well, you hadn't decided if he was a harmless nerd or a serial killer. Still, he seemed to interpret the female fear when he offered himself by saying:

"I understand that it's difficult for a woman to live with a lad she doesn't know."

But the point was: you had really liked the apartment, and when he started saying the rules of coexistence the distance between nerd and possible killer became bigger, much bigger. That was not a one-sided conversation, especially when you started questioning him in a not very subtle way about his life. What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he hide bodies in his room? (The latter was in your imagination, but you managed to spy on his room without being noticed).

Michael said that some people showed interest in the ad but that they did not fit the standard of roomies he wanted. Disorganized, drugged and very noisy, as soon as he classified them.

His methodical personality did his best to try to build a positive (or less negative) image you could have of the arrangement. And honestly, he seemed to be a quiet man, who appreciated a certain silence and calm that you wanted in your home most of the time. Obviously you checked the criminal record of the guy with caramel hair and beautiful blue eyes as soon as you left the building, relieving yourself by not finding anything. But hey, he was a student like you, it couldn't be so hard to find something about the guy!

By another incredible chance of fate a friend of a friend had some classes with Gavey and was very efficient in giving some information about the subject:

"Really smart, a little pretentious and clumsy, but he's a nice guy, doesn't have many friends and is definitely harmless."

Obviously it took much more than that to make you invest in the property, but what really mattered was that that weekend Michael Gavey had received a call and agreed with the idea.

So officially you were moving to the place you wanted, well located and cozy, but with a roommate who owns the place. And for the next few weeks after the move you slept with a knife under the pillow.

════════════════════

Living with Michael proved to be something very calm. Your classes took place at the same time, which culminated in sharing the rest of the day together. Initially things were strange, especially when you tried to talk to each other in the first days without any subject that caught the attention of the other, which defined the following days with dialogues only about the needs of coexistence. It was much easier that way and ensured that the dynamics between you happened in a more organic way than thought, since both were easy to deal with in your own ways. The apartment wasn’t complete yet, with few kitchen utensils and cleaning that you didn't mind buying. Michael was very hygienic and almost never left anything for you to clean (if it happened he would leave a note in the sink or bathroom indicating that he would take care of it later).

He wasn’t so good in the kitchen, but that wasn’t a problem when cooking was an almost relaxing activity for you, and it was very gratifying to receive compliments about your food. In addition, at the end of dinner he would make a point of washing the dishes to help.

Everything seemed to go very well over the weeks, the first month, the first month and a half until things started to change in the way you saw it.

Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it's been a while since you had fun with a man. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body. You see, Michael wasn’t bad looking, not with his caramel blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a formidable face; not with his terribly long fingers and delicious hands, not with his height much higher than your usually covered your body when he approached. No, the point was that you never had a relationship with someone like him. A little introverted, methodical, with a particular sense of humor and a little grumpy. On the other hand, he knew how to be pleasant and malleable when he wanted, he was almost shrewd and a little lonely.

Adding this to a nice body, a perfectly sculpted face and the looks he sent you when your clothes were tighter or more tidy, the sum was that you wanted to fuck that damn nerd in every room of your shared apartment.

Initially the feeling was repressed. Maybe it was just your fertile period and the sad reality of being for a long time without a male comfort — not the fact that he looks like a delicious prey easily edible. However, as the days went by the realization of being really invested in your roommate was more explicit and palpable, really palpable. Something needed to be done on the subject and some ideas were already around your mind about how to convince Michael to have sex madly in the next few days.

You looked good as an advantage, although you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, you were beautiful enough to take off a good looking partner. It couldn't be so difficult (or he could reject it). Therefore, acting with subtlety was your first option, although there was the uncertainty of him not realizing even if his mind was too sharp to do so. But in your state of urgency by instant action the games that would make him gradually succumb would be extremely stressful for you, so you would grab him at once.

But how would you proceed?

It was Friday night and your friends were dismissed for your onslaught to happen. Should you arrive as a hungry lun or a sneaky fox?

Fuck it, you'd jump on it with everything you had.

Wearing only a lacy white lingerie and an unbuttoned silk social t-shirt you left for the attack, opening the bedroom door and floating like a feather to the living room where your sweet roommate was distracted by the laptop. He didn't seem as focused as the times he studied, in fact he was almost relaxed in his gray sweatpants and thick pumpkin-colored sweater and a rare soft look on the screen. It was the ideal moment.

With a sensual feature and melodious voice you announced your presence with a simple "Hey," calling his attention.

And as you called it.

The poor lad could barely blink when he saw your half-naked and inviting figure approaching with a false innocent smile.

His reaction was a real treat. With his blue eyes wide from under his glasses and half-open mouth. He was terribly shocked, that was a fact, and it only encouraged you to go ahead. "I was thinking, if... you wouldn't have some time available for me." In a bold action, you gently pushed the laptop away and sat on his lap with one leg on each side of his waist, leaning your hands against the breastplate and leaning close to his flushed face to whisper on his perfect lips. "I'm thinking of something we can do together."

Blinking a few times for your dubious suggestion, Michael's hands landed uncertainly on the side of your thighs as he tried to formulate some audible answer in his now unstructured mind. “D-do you?” He asked tense, panting.

“Yes, but only if you want too,” you purred against his mouth, rubbing your noses and moving your dressed pussy against the newly hardened bulge, making him both moan low in anticipation.

Interesting fact about Michael: he's never had any girl rubbing against his body like that before. In fact, he never had a girl in any way.

It was something that didn't bother him full time, very worried about books, classes and science, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't think what it would be like to fuck a girl whose attraction to him was genuine. But that, well, that was better than any fantasy he's ever had throughout his life, that's why it was so costly to believe and answer your question with a blown and whispered "Yes", quickly amended by a more assertive confirmation: "I want to."

“Good," you smirk satisfied and collided your lips on his in a demanding and intense kiss, giving no chance to any doubt that he will feel. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and his soft caramelized hair, avoiding any body separation.

Michael moaned when your fingers pulled some sensitive threads from the back of his neck, holding your waist and ass in a firm grip. That could only be a big wet dream. Yes, he really stole glances at you many times, more than he was proud of, but to think that this would happen? That way? Not even fucking.

He pressed his hardened cock against your pussy again and broke a kiss with a grunt when you started grinding on it. It was a delight to feel the impressive hardness below your body and see it all red and anxious, capturing another panting, long and tongue-filled kiss. Not even when you ripped off his sweater and discarded your social shirt, your lips separated. Although he was a skinny nerd, he had a really nice body. You wanted to fuck right there, but it was exciting to see him follow your trail like a hungry puppy. And he was fucking hungry, although equally nervous about being his first time.

Michael wasn’t stupid to think it would last long, he heard the stories, he knew how the male body worked to hump for the first time, he knew it would be disastrous, so when you leaned against him again his words were quick to reveal his secret.

“Wait… I need to say something,” his eyes faced the ground, posture hardening as he quickly lowered his head. At that moment you were sure of your implications on your roomie's sexual history, but wanted to respect his process in stating clearly. "I've never done thid."

With a gentle hand groping the left side of his face, you tried to calm him down: "it's ok, really. We can stop if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, no, I want that, really-," he was quick to contest, "I just didn't want to disappoint you."

“Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you for that. Besides, I can teach you how to use these fingers to make women cum," you bit your lower lip, looking at it sensually. "Let me take care of you, babe."

And he became meek like a lamb, letting you take off his sweatpants before he himself hurriedly took off his shoes and socks and was only in his underwear, being guided to lie on the bed while your body climbed on his hips and groped his arms, breastplate and milky abs. "You have such a great body," you purred and leaned to kiss him, savoring his hands kneading and squeezing your arse, climbing up your back and daring to open the clasp of your bra, to which you were rewarded by your satisfied tinnitus. “Good boy,” and then your tits were exposed to his delight, being touched and exploited by two large, warm and inexperienced hands. God, he never thought that tis could be so amazing.

His thumbs rotated your halos experimentally, with a little more force than necessary but without being uncomfortable. Your hands covered Michael's and guided them to your waist, squeezing, landing them on your hips.

"Women like caresses and kisses to get in the mood. Kisses on the neck, jaw, clavicle, boobs..." you started, "I don't need these things at the moment, but next time this will be welcome."

Although excited about the idea of a next time suggested in advance, Michael didn’t want to spend his luck betting that your thought would be kept after sex, as a result, he sat in bed with you on his lap and attacked your neck with kisses, bites and hickeys. His work against the encounter between neck and shoulder made you purr with pleasure and close your eyes, really enjoying how he gently pulled some strands of hair from the back of your neck. The boy had potential.

“Keep going, babe”

The wet and anxious trail followed your lap, top and valley of the tits until capturing a nipple in the hot mouth, sucking and nibbling greedily. He couldn't believe that you were on his lap letting him suck your tits, that he was the reason for your moans and soft whining. Damn, he was already in the clouds and hadn't even actually laid you — or the opposite.

And although the feeling was terribly pleasant, the heat in your pussy was too aggressive to ignore, you needed a quick and urgent relief.

"Michael" you called him. "I need to get the condom," with that, you walked away against his will to pick up the package from your nightstand. "Now, take a deep breath when I start and try to distract yourself with something else to last longer, I'll go slowly but it's very intense and better than your hand, so hold tight," you warned him before pulling his boxer down to reveal his beautiful dick shining with pre-cum. Holy shit, Michael Gavey was fucking nice. “Damn, you’re fucking handsome. I should have seen this before."

And he was already out of breath before you stretched around him, his glasses crooked and a little blurry, half-open mouth and body hurting in anxiety, cock writhing with every touch received on his skin.

“Put it.”

And he put on the condom while you removed your panties and crawled into his lap again, making him lie down again. “Hold on, big guy.”

And then, picking up his cock and guiding him to your entrance, you sank slowly, giving him time to squeeze your hips with each centrimeter swallowed, caressing and smelling his soft hair when his head fell against your neck. Nothing had prepared him for that, no handful of lubricant came close to the tightness, heat and moisture of your pussy. If he was in the clouds before, now he was sure he was in the sky. “Wait! Wait! Don't move yet." And for that he needed to make sure it lasted.

"Okay... just breath babe, relax, think of something else." you instructed him panting, savoring the feeling of his cock inside your silky walls. Everything about his member was perfect, from the size to the thickness, filling you perfectly. A whining fell from your lips and you hugged him. “So good, mm.”

"Fuck," he grunted in despair, squeezing your body against his.

“Don't worry about it, it's okay, just enjoy it while it lasts,” you whispered against his temple.

That was the damn point. “I won't last long,” he said.

“So just enjoy, Mike,” biting his earlobe, you started jumping constantly, moaning uninhibitely at how good that nerd felt. He pushed his face even more on your neck and held your waist to the dear life, moaning and grunting and pulling you to lie above him. He was a panting mess with blurry glasses and a half-open mouth, a damn sight that made you more aroused than usual, very proud to be the reason for his snatched state.

“Oh fuck, fuck- I'm gonna-“

“Come for me, babe,” you rubbed your groin against his one, two, three times when he fell apart intensely with a long, hoarse moan, heavy breathing and a blushing face.

Withdrawing from him, your body fell on the bed still hot and longing to be satisfied, watching him gradually recompose in a brief comfortable silence.

"So... did you like it?" You asked, fingering his breastplate.

Did he like it? Damn, that shit blew his mind. “So fucking good.” Although part of his mind was eager to reward you, he had to. He had to make you cum. Turning to face you, Michael stood at your top before while asking: "what should I do now?"

Smirking maliciously, you leaned your feet on the bed and spread your legs more to him. “Fuck me with your fingers,” you purred, taking his right hand and guiding him to your wet center. "I like it when guys don't forget that I have a clit, I don't understand why, even why it makes your work easier," you circled your hill with his fingers, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Heat me up with one, then put on another."

And he followed your rules like a good boy, sticking a long finger pumping slowly.

"Mhm, just like that," you bit your lower lip, but very very very impatient to wait for the development of a slow orgasm, you needed to cum as soon as possible. Taking his hand, you held your index finger and made him join the middle one. “Go faster.”

And although sloppy and a little strong a few times, his fingers felt so fucking good on your velvet walls, reaching the sweet point that made your toes curl. “Fuck! Keep going Michael!”

He was hypnotized by the wet sounds that your pussy was making, by your body writhing and his fingers disappearing inside you, squeezing, wetting...

That set of things went straight to his cock.

"Roll your fingers slowly," you ordered, arching your back when he pressed against your spot, intensifying the tingling at the base of your stomach and making you moan louder. “Don't stop, I-I'm close!”

His glasses were on the tip of his nose, almost plummeting from his face, but it didn't matter at the moment. Deciding to use your previous tip on the clit, Michael used his other hand to circle your pearl with pressure, making his eyes close.

“Oh fuck! I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a warm pleasure flooded your senses, holding the bed for the darling life and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

That was better than any porn he watched. And with that he encompassed the last minutes from your approach until now. Michael was still very stunned by everything that happened, that’s why when he lay on your bed it was as if he was recovering from an electric discharge, his mind and body ridiculously overloaded and active. As for you, after a while restoring from a delicious orgasm, you rested your head on his chest and traced patterns on the milky to soft skin, playing with some fine and lost hair. "So, do you want a second round?"

═════════════════════

a/n: I know we don’t have much about Michael, but I was so anxious about this hot nerd that I couldn’t wait for the movie.

[vanishingstarrs]

decode

eijiro kirishima x reader, secret admirer trope, soft vibes, sfw

( do u guys prefer these drabbles to be longer ? shorter ? split into multiple parts ?? pls feel free to let me know !! <3 )

For weeks all you could think about were the little notes folded up into hearts that you’d been finding in your locker every day.

The first one appeared over a month ago and stated: you look badass in your new costume.

You’d been pretty insecure when submitting in the new design for your hero suit and despite all your friends encouragement you still felt a bit out of place among the rest of your classmates, who always looked confident and powerful in theirs.

You weren’t expecting anything, but the next day another fell out when you went to grab a textbook in between classes and it said— that new move was impressive, your improvement and dedication amazes me each day.

And the next day.

have a great day, gorgeous

And the next.

you were awesome in that training exercise

And more.

that test was rough, hope you did better than i did— your concentrating face is cute btw <3

you kicked bakugo’s ass today (and looked hot doing it), it was great!

you’re so strong and pretty

They continued every day to the point where you had finally called an emergency meeting with your friends, you laid back on Momo’s luxurious bed with a sigh,“I have no clue, who could it be? It has got to be someone in our class with the way they know so much, but…”

“But…?” Kyoka urged you on.

Another sigh left your lips, and you couldn’t help scrunch up your face as you looked at your friends,“None of the boys in our class seem to give off secret admirer potential, what if it’s just some sick prank one of them is doing?”

“For that long?” Momo questioned before shaking her head,“I don’t know, not even our guys seem capable of something so cruel.”

“Maybe you just haven’t given the right one the chance to step up?” Ochaco offered up.

“I mean what are her options?” Mina snorted, she held a list of all the guys in their class.

You guys had gone through and already crossed off a couple that were definite no’s, people like Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari who were self proclaimed “ladies men”. You considered that it might be one of the quieter boys, maybe Kirishima or Todoroki, even Ojiro.

You had reassured Ochaco that Midoriya wasn’t even a possibility, considering the boy was loud and open about his admiration for others and could tell she was relieved when you did.

You shrugged, having gone over any interactions with the boys in your class multiple times. “I don’t know, I’m not really close with any of them… I mean I sit next to Kaminari and Kirishima so I guess they’re my friends? But Kaminari has eyes on a new girl every day and I could swear Kirishima had told me about…”

“Who?!” All four girls sat up impatiently.

“No one.” You smirked,“I don’t spill your guys’ private conversations.”

“Boooo!” Toru threw a crumbled up piece of paper at you.

You opened up your latest two notes.

golden hour looks breathtaking on you

you’ve officially taken up a permanent residence in my mind, i think of you all day long…

“Wait!” Jiro stood up suddenly, snatching one note along with her as she began digging around in her backpack.

“Hey!” You pouted, but she shushed you.

“I know how we’ll solve this mystery.” She pulled out a notebook from class.

“How?!” Ochaco asked excitedly.

You almost didn’t want to know, what if you confronted the person and it went awry?

“Okay, so last week I asked Shouji to borrow some notes for a lecture I wasn’t really listening to and look!”

All five of you leaned forward to look at the notebook and the messy scrawl on the page.

“His penmanship is quite poor.” Momo pointed out and you silently agreed.

Jiro rolled her eyes,“Not why I’m showing you guys this, what I’m getting at is that we can just ask all the boys to write something down and compare their handwriting to the notes!”

“Genius!” Mina shot up,“I was just thinking I was really hungry, we could tell them we’re ordering some takeout and have each individually write out if they want anything.”

“Perfect, we should split up and do it quick.” Ochaco agreed.

Your heartbeat picked up and you anxiously wrung your hands,“Okay, but also can we actually order food? I eat when I’m nervous and right now I’m a wreck. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Girl, you got this!” Mina turned to you with a big, encouraging smile and you returned it, albeit not as bright as hers. “Let’s find this guy!”

The group quickly agreed and everyone split up to take the class’s requests for dinner.

By the time you all met up in Momo’s room again, you were tense. You each had a note and several options to compare from, a few were easy to immediately knock off. You continued going down your list until you gasped, unable to help yourself as you met the gazes of your friends.

“What?!” Mina’s eyes bulged.

You swallowed,“I know who it is.”

Your friends all eyed the pieces of paper with matching handwriting and by the next day had convinced you to go up to the boy. You could feel their stares on you as you called out his name and beckoned him into the hall during homeroom period, asking if you could get his advice on something. You took a deep breath as you led him to a secluded window further down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for denial.

“So what’s up?” He didn’t hesitate to follow you and ask,“You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You shrugged,“I guess I’ve just been a little… anxious, I guess? Good anxious, but still anxious nonetheless. You see, I’ve been getting these notes in my locker ever since day but there’s no name attached to them so it’s just a little weird. I’ve been trying to figure out who it is, racking my brain like crazy.”

“Can I see one?” Kirishima asked.

“Sure, here’s today’s.” You handed him over the crisply folded sheet of notebook paper, one you could now recognize and knew was getting thinner by the pages being ripped out daily. The note read: i wish i could tell you who i am.

You could see him gulp and leaped to take your chance.

“To be honest, I’d just wanna thank the person. I’ve been struggling with some confidence issues lately and their notes every day have really been keeping my spirits up.” You turned toward the window and away from him with a sigh,“They must not think they’re brave enough to tell me, but they shouldn’t be scared of—”

“Y/N…”

You turned around immediately, eyes widening at the fact that he’d used your first name. Kirishima was standing pin straight, holding the note tight in one hand and you almost felt bad for pushing him… but you had to know if your suspicions were correct. Besides, you hadn’t been lying. You really did want to thank him for always making you smile every day.

“It’s… I wrote the notes, I’m the one who’s been sneaking them into your locker every day.” He bowed slightly,“I apologize for not being man enough to sign my name or just say all these things to your face, but I wasn’t sure of how you’d react or what you would think of me.”

“Eijiro.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised as he straightened himself up.

You smiled,“I knew it was you.”

“How…?”

You shrugged, smiling slightly,“A lady never reveals her secrets.”

This made him laugh.

“I’m sorry that I pushed you to confess, I just wanted to know if I was right and I’m glad that I was, glad that you were the one, that is.” You smiled at him,“Your notes are very sweet and I’ve enjoyed having them every day.”

As the bell rung and your classmates started filing out of class you realized your time had run out, you smiled at your friends who were giving you questioning looks. You motioned with your hand for them to move along, smiling bigger when Kirishima turned around to find them gone.

You brought his attention back to you when you spoke again,“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going, I’ve got to get to math and start studying, I’ve got a makeup coming up since I didn’t do all that great on the last exam.”

He nodded, seemingly speechless.

You couldn’t really wait for a response regardless as you rushed to pack up your things and head to your next class before the final bell rung.

You did your best to focus on the extra lessons your teacher was nice enough to give for students who’d been confused about the last test, but all you could do with think about Kirishima and whether he’d stop leaving his notes now that you knew it was him. You somehow managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, and when your friends asked about it all you could do was shrug. Nothing happened, you would say, and it was true.

Nothing happened.

Until the next day, that was.

You were headed to your locker a little earlier than usual, eager to get back to your studies when several notes fell out of your locker. Your face heated up as you rushed to pick them all up, opening the first one carefully.

Only a single word was written on the sheet of paper and you worked quickly in order to unfold the remains slips, reading through it several times just to make sure you weren’t imagining it. It read:

will

you

go

out

with

me?

— eijiro

You shut the locker, forgetting all about your textbook in favor of trying to find him instead. Which was made extremely easy because when you turned around, there he stood.

Eijiro Kirishima.

He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and you spotted a plushie of your favorite character in the center of the arrangement. You thought his eye might’ve twitched nervously as he gave you his best smile, you quickly returned it.

“I was just coming to find you.”

“You found me.” He chuckled as he took a few steps closer,“Y/N, would you please do me the honor of going out on a date with me?— it doesn’t have to be today, I know you signed up for the makeup exam in math tomorrow, and actually! If you’d like, that is, I can help you study. I think I know the material well now, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d love nothing more than to have the chance to be the man you deserve.”

“One condition.” You smiled, knowing there was no way you would’ve ever said no.

“Anything!” He agreed immediately.

You held up the unfolded hearts he always wrote his notes on,“I still get these every now and then, nonnegotiable, they really make my day.”

Eijiro’s cheeks went as red as his hair as he grinned big, nodding,“Every day.”

“Then yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” You accepted the bouquet he was holding out to you before leaning up slightly and placing a kiss on his cheek,“It’s beautiful, Eijiro, thank you.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

Now you were the one blushing, he’d used a nickname and you definitely liked it.

“You’re cute when you blush.” He complimented.

“Oh my god.” You tried to hide your face in the flowers, unable to stop the large smile from taking over your face.

He was quick to take them back out of your hands, as well as grabbing your book bag from you,“Better get used to it, princess, the notes were just a placeholder until I was able to man up enough to confess, but not a day will go by without a compliment from me, I can promise you that. And no more lugging around heavy textbooks when I’m here either.”

“Thank you, Eijiro.” You felt the blush move higher, your ears feeling warm now too.

“So, study date tonight?”

He’d never admit it, but he’d stayed up late last night going over the necessary chapters in order to be able to help you with your upcoming test. In truth, he had no clue how he passed over you, but he’d make sure it never happened again.

You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you agreed,“Definitely.”

This time, he was the one to place a kiss onto your cheek as he led the way to homeroom, smiling— beautifully and unabashedly.

Princess treatment?

You could definitely get used to that.

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: part 1

Jason meets Single Dad Danny who is taking care of a de-aged Dani while trying to get his degree at Gotham U. Both of them fall hard, hijinks and shenanigans ensue, simping on both sides.

Edit: background info/lore found here

Edit: part 2 now found here

~~~~

Step 1: Meet an attractive single parent

As a Crime Lord/vigilante Red Hood had multiple safe houses that he used in and out of the mask. Some were for each exclusive identity to prevent anyone from linking them together and others used for both. Currently, Jason was walking out of his 2nd favorite safe house and the mostly permanent residence of “civilian and non-profit worker: Jason Todd” with a plate of cookies and a pan full of lasagna for his new neighbors that moved in two doors down. He may have been a street rat but he’d be damned if Alfred and Talia hadn’t taught him hospitality (it was a fact of life that grandparents and Asian people would try to feed their guests like their honor depended on it). Plus it was a great way to do some reconnaissance on whether or not these new neighbors could potentially pose an issue. The apartment complex was on the border of Crime Alley and Burnley meaning the people who lived there weren’t doing too hot money-wise but were at least able to avoid the worst of Crime Alley. Jason was just planning to go over introduce himself, hand over the homemade food, and head off to a different safe house to get his gear and patrol. However, he was not expecting to see his new neighbor standing outside struggling to open his own door, a six-year-old on his hip, arguing with someone over the phone. The young man had a lean build and appeared to be no older than 20, give or take a year or two. He had black bangs that cast a shadow on his face making his eye-bags appear even darker and startling blue eyes clouded with anger and resentment, likely towards whoever was on the phone. He was so occupied with his conversation he didn’t seem to notice that someone else had stepped into the hallway. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a loose white shirt with a NASA logo on it that slightly hung off his shoulder. He also wore a black hoodie with a white hood and neon green accents that seemed to be subject to his sister(?)’s death grip. Despite his disheveled state, there was something about his new neighbor that drew him in. His aura washed over Jason like a cool breeze on a hot day making it hard for Jason to look away. He would have continued assessing the man if he hadn’t made eye contact with the identical blue eyes of the young girl perched on his hip, who looked at him with a curious sparkle in her eyes. He discreetly turned back around to lock his own door, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation the elder (brother?) seemed to be having. It could provide some info on these new neighbors.

“-shut up Vlad! I’m not moving into your rich guy penthouse! I wouldn’t be taking any of your shady money if I didn’t need child support for Ellie!”

Huh. So her dad/guardian then?

“ Of course I have to do this Vald! What’s the other option, sending her back to a Frootloop like you?! … I’m not going to abandon Ellie for something that wasn’t her choice. She didn’t ask to be created Vlad that’s why she gets a chance.”

Okay so setting aside the rather concerning parts New Neighbor Guy™️ was definitely that child’s parent. Seems fairly rational as well.

“How do I know you’d be a terrible guardian? Plenty of reasons, do you want the list chronologically or alphabetized! You violated me, who you said you wanted to adopt despite me having two living parents, you created Ellie and several other failed attempts without my knowledge, you hid her from me, you tried to teach her to hate me before we even met, you named her Danielle after me instead of giving her her own identity, the list goes on and on Vlad! Do you want me to continue because that’s just the stuff that involves Ellie— I was 14, you middle-aged vampire look-alike! Of course I wasn’t jumping at the chance to become a teen dad! I was a freshman in high school! Besides you know what my parents are like, lab safety regulations were more like a healthy suggestion to them. I was in no position to be taking care of a child!”

Rage flashed in Jason’s eyes as he tightened his grip on his glass Tupperware pan full of lasagna. This conversation was not painting a pretty picture about his neighbor’s situation. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself before belatedly realizing his neighbor had gotten real quiet. He turned around, catching the tail end of his neighbor’s conversation as he finally succeeded in opening the door.

“Whatever Vlad, just keep paying your child support and for Ancients’ sake please stop trying to date my mom. …. Yeah, yeah screw you too Count Chocula.”

The neighbor set his daughter down, likely so she could enter the apartment, and slipped his phone from between his head and shoulder into his hand to hang up on that Vlad guy. Now seemed like as good a time as any to approach. Jason walked up the the young man and coughed trying to get his attention. The young man met Jason’s eyes with a somewhat surprised look. As if he wasn’t unaware of Jason’s presence but hadn’t expected him to talk to him. Jason decided he should start speaking now before things got too awkward.

“Uh- Hi, I’m Jason. I live a few doors down in 357,” he said glancing at the 353 on his neighbors’ door before he continued. “I heard you moving in a few days ago and thought I’d swing by with some food to welcome you to the building.” He stuck out his hand for the other to shake.

“Hi I’m Danny, Danny Nightingale,” he said taking Jason’s hand and ‘Wow his hands are cold’, “ and this little munchkin here is Ellie!” Danny and Ellie flashed him matching smiles like twin suns making Jason's heart melt. He returned their smiles before extending the food to Danny.

“ I don’t know if you’ve had time to get groceries yet but here’s some homemade lasagna if you need a quick meal while you’re getting settled,” he then crouched down to Ellie’s level and stage-whispered in her ear conspiratorially “ and there are some chocolate chip cookies on that plate too.”

Ellie giggled out a thank and threw her arms around Jason’s neck, giving him a quick hug before letting go and dashing into the apartment. Jason watched her go, stunned but feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He turned his attention back to Danny, who shook his head and huffed amusedly. They made eye contact as Jason rose and realized he was a head taller than the guy. He felt the heat expanding in his chest and crawling up his neck, curling behind his ears. He decided now that Ellie had gone in it would be a good time to talk to Danny about what he overheard.

“ So it really wasn’t my intention to do so but I overheard some of that conversation you were having over the phone earlier,” he watched Danny’s smile drop a bit as he winced. Jason awkwardly brought up his hand to scratch the back of his neck and continued.

“ Look I don’t wanna insert myself into your situation but if you ever need help I’m just a few doors down. And if that guy gets pushy or stops sending his child support I can help you find a couple of avenues you can take. Plus, although we’re technically outside Red Hood’s territory I’m sure he wouldn’t mind extending protection over you like he does for the other Crime Alley folk if ya really need it.”

Danny’s face smoothed out looking a bit flushed and appreciative as he went on. He gave Jason a small smile and replied, “ Thank you for the offer. I really do appreciate it. Might just take ya up on it at some point. As for Red Hood? I think I’ll avoid needing the protection of a crime boss vigilante if I can help it. Don’t worry too much about Vlad though. I’ve got him handled currently and he’ll behave if he knows what’s good for him!” Danny smiled threateningly towards the end of his reassurance. (‘His canines are peaking out that’s so cute’)

Jason chuckled with Danny as their eyes locked once more. They stayed lost in each others’ eyes for what seemed like hours before they heard a thump followed by a small “oof” coming from inside the apartment. Danny turned to the door and called out to Ellie,

“Ellie, what was that? Are you okay”

“I’m fine! My shirt just fell!”

“That sounded heavier than a shirt?”

“I was in it!”

Danny sighed, shaking his head before turning to Jason once more.

“Thank you again for the food, any chance you’d like to come in and have something to drink?”

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to decline. I need to start heading out for work.”

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep you. I’d hate to make you late for work.” He waved goodbye as Jason nodded his head and started walking down the hall.

His neighbors seemed entirely harmless he decided as he walked away. ‘The kid was cute’ he thought to himself. A smaller voice from the back of his head that sounded vaguely like the Pits chimed in ‘Her dad was even cuter.’

~~~~~ Please let me know what you guys think and if you want to see more of this. I thrive on feedback so feel free to leave any notes or comments!

[cannellee]

Who were the other options you had in mind for parhetic alphas, considering you said there were so many choices for the number 3 place before you gave it to Hakkai? Who is in the top 10 pathetic whipped Alphas?

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! tokyorev x omega! reader (pairing : shinichiro, takemichi, hakkai, yamagishi, angry, naoto, kisaki, shion, kazutora, hanma)

— top 10 pathetic alphas of tokyorev (part. 1)

I struggled a bit to finish this, I honestly don't think there are 10 real pathetic men, shinichiro and takemichi easily take the first places. but after them, it's hard to choose. it's obviously not extremely representative but here's my thoughts on this!

MY MASTERLIST : ☆

𐙚. N°1 : ALPHA! SHINICHIRO

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 2 : ALPHA! TAKEMICHI

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𐙚. N°3 : ALPHA! HAKKAI

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𐙚. N° 4 : ALPHA! YAMAGISHI

yamagishi is an awkward nerd who never felt the touch of an omega, he's sweating buckets the first time you initiate skinship. it feels too unreal to him, you have him malfunctioning and you simply enjoy his panicked look.

he's such a beta-passing alpha and that's what he's most insecure about, despite being told he needs to toughen up, he can't help but crave your validation. people often mock him for how your roles seem to have been exchanged, but what else is he supposed to do when his goddess of an omega talks ever so sweetly to him like that ?

you often laugh at him whenever he acts all serious and tough, you love it when he tries to impress you that way, thinking the way he glances at you to judge your reactions is subtle (it's not), but you play along and give him the attention he needs.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 5 : ALPHA! ANGRY

of course angry is on the list. he's so sensitive and attentive, always carefully analysing your reactions and what you say to him, making sure he never upsets his lovely omega.

you're such an important person to angry that he can't help but let his whole world spin around you like you're his sun. he cooks, he cleans and gives plenty of gifts. whatever you want is yours in the minute. he'll cry if you get mad at him or even show him the slightest form of disapproval. if you refuse to talk to him, he throws the little pride he had to beg and plead for you to look at him again.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 6 : ALPHA! NAOTO

naoto isn't that pathetic, but shy and nervous enough to stir up funny reactions from him whenever he's around you. what's best, is how composed he is with everyone else but you. he acts all serious and shit, but all of that crumble when you're looking at him with your big doe eyes, sweetly smiling at him.

how could such a tall and honorable alpha fold so fast for a tiny omega such as yourself ? that's what everyone is wondering. but naoto doesn't care about stupid gender roles and simply embraces the fact that you make him double check himself when you're about to meet up.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 7 : ALPHA! KISAKI

bro started a whole war and killed people 'for' his omega, you can't tell me this isn't pathetic behaviour. see it however you like, but when kisaki sets his eyes on something or someone, he is obssessed. never lets you out of his sight, desperately scenting you, having people spy on you... in my opinion, kisaki is giving stalker vibes and only loosers choose that option : they're too scared to confront their crush and end up caring for them from a distance.

kisaki is a red flag who wants to keep control of his omega but at the same, can't keep the conversation going because of his sweaty hands and sloppy speech. however, while some alphas are okay with appearing weaker, kisaki hates that and absolutely despises the way you make him feel. he has little outbursts here and there if you jokingly bring it up.

he just can't wait to make you his, turn you into a submissive omega who won't dare mock him anymore whenever he gets nervous. but for now, he'll settle for the photos he took of you and your faint scent of honey and candy lingering on his jacket after you grabbed his arms.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 8 : ALPHA! SHION

shion isn't exactly pathetic, he's just a dumb alpha who absolutely can't resist your manipulation and mind games. I don't remember where exactly I saw this, but it's somehow popular in the fandom (I think?) that shion is a bit of a himbo, and I agree.

he's got the muscles, but honestly, you outbrain him easily. yes, he's aggressive and yes, he does bark and bite. but not towards his omega! he follows exactly what you say without even fully grasping the whole situation, point someone with your finger and you can be sure shion is jumping on him, convinced he offended you. his protectiveness is just genuine and has that comical simplicity.

he might overcomplicate your relationships with others and see a rival in any of them. you have to be careful with your words just in case he misunderstands them and causes a huge ruckus.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 9 : ALPHA! KAZUTORA

similarly, kazutora isn't exactly pathetic but has his own special ways of showing he's interested which would make him worthy of the 9th place.

alpha kazutora who's absolutely wrecked and deranged by his background and relationship with mikey, can do no good. still, he has learned ways to control himself as to not scare you off. which is why he'd rather stay away from you and instead, look at you from a distance. he's very subtle actually so you won't ever catch him staring.

but what makes him slightly pathetic is how delusional he is about your relationship while still being insecure. he'll get aggressive at times when he senses a tiny bit of disinterest from you and get mad. he's toxic and hopeless, but can't make up his mind to leave you alone. his contradictory spirit is very hard to grasp, but what's clear is his dependance on you, his innocent omega. he's constantly checking and making sure you love him, asking questions he expects only one answer to. he's jealous and paranoid, often clinging to you and asking for your forgiveness if his possessiveness pushed him to go too far.

overall, it's his emotional instability which makes kazutora pathetic.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚. N° 10 : ALPHA! HANMA

hanma isn't pathetic at all, but I had to find someone for the last one sooo.

he isn't pathetic but he just has little to no regard to his dignity as an alpha and as a person. he likes the thrill of trying new things and getting out of his comfort zone, which is exactly what his sweet omega urges him to.

you like that side of hanma, you can do whatever and he'll let you, simply because he enjoys the unexpected, being surprised and not being stuck in a routine.

you can be temperamental, vulgar and mean all you want, he'll just laugh because that's unusual for an omega. his ego won't get hurt because he's confident in himself, he can fight, is part of a gang and has a lot of connections, pleasing his omega by doing a few shameful tricks is far from being degrading in his eyes.

but that only works if you also let him play with you however he wants. so with hanma, it's more like, how far are you ready to take it. you're not necessarily on top and you'll find out soon enough that he's the one with the less limits, which can be scary something.

[misc-obeyme]

Belphegor with "I like being close to you. You're warm." maybe? It seems like a very Belphie thing to say.

Hi there, anon!

I agree, that is absolutely something Belphie would say. I don't write for him a lot, but I actually really enjoy writing his character! I know there are people who don't like him, but Belphie is pretty high on the faves list for me lol.

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Belphegor with prompt "I like being close to you. You're warm."

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: fingering and penetration (reader receiving), oh yes and a little bit of biting

Even when you had a lot to do, you found it almost impossible to say no to Belphegor when he wanted to take a nap with you. And that was how you found yourself in your bed with Belphie snoozing beside you. You were on your side and he was on his back, his shoulder and arm pressed up against you.

You weren't fully asleep because you were thinking about all of the things you should be doing in that moment. You couldn't help thinking about the pile of homework on your desk or the chores that you still had to take care of.

As though sensing that you were awake still, Belphie rolled over, tucking himself around you and draping an arm over your waist.

"Belphie," you said. You knew he was doing it on purpose. "I have to get up now. I have stuff to do."

"It can wait," Belphie said. The clearness of his voice gave away the fact that he hadn't actually been sleeping, either.

"You're not even sleeping," you said. "You don't need me here."

"I like being close to you," Belphie said. "You're warm."

You sighed in exasperation, ready to attempt to pull yourself out of his arms and out of your bed.

Belphie nuzzled into you, tightening his grip and pressing himself further against your body.

And this action caused you to pause. You didn't pull yourself away as you had been planning to do so that you could go do some homework.

Instead, there was a little throb of desire in your gut when you felt Belphie's erection against your back.

So that's how it was.

You considered your options. You could pull yourself away anyway and get on with the homework you still had to do. Or you could…

The choice was mostly an illusion, a way of making yourself feel like you actually considered getting out of bed at that moment.

You pushed back on Belphie, rubbing against him deliberately.

Belphie chuckled in your ear and kissed the back of your neck. "What was that about having stuff to do, MC?"

"How about this. I'll stay if you make it worth my while," you said, not willing to give in completely just yet.

The arm around your waist was immediately repositioned so that Belphie could put his hand down the waistband of your pants. He leaned forward into you and put his open mouth on your neck, just barely pressing his teeth into your skin.

You tried not to give him the satisfaction of a dramatic reaction, but you couldn't hold in your moan. Not as his fingers traveled up and down between your legs, stimulating everything into a wet heat. Not as you felt his lips on your neck and his cock still hard against you.

You gripped his arm, needing something to hold onto as his fingers continued to send pleasure shooting through your body. You pressed yourself back against him just to move yourself a little, to feel him even closer. Belphie rolled his hips into you in response, his lips moving down your neck.

"Belphie," you said quietly between gasping breaths.

Belphie stopped kissing your neck for a moment. "Hmm? What's the matter, MC?"

You reached behind yourself with the hand that wasn't holding onto Belphie's arm, pressing your hand between your bodies just enough to grasp his cock. You heard Belphie suck in a breath as you stroked it lazily.

Belphie hummed low in his throat as he pressed his face against your back, seemingly overcome by the feeling of your hand on his cock.

"MC," Belphie moaned into your back. The hand in your pants moved out of them to start tugging them down. "Can I…?"

You shifted your hips so that your pants could be pulled partway off. Then you pressed backward into him again, positioning your legs to give him access.

You let go of his cock and mumbled, "Put it in, Belphie…"

You wouldn't need to ask twice.

Belphie slowly pressed his cock inside you, the feeling of him filling you up and making you gasp. The hand of the arm you still held in your grip moved up to squeeze one of your nipples.

And then Belphie was rocking his hips, thrusting slowly into you from behind. His moans were soft rumbly sounds that you could feel vibrating through your back.

It was so sweet and so like him. You were so close together, there was so much heat being generated between you. It wrapped around you the way Belphie's body did as he started to increase his pace. It wasn't fast, just enough to make you squirm.

Every thrust was thorough, making your skin tingle and your blood rush through you, but it wasn't enough.

"Belphie, please," you said, not caring about the desperation in your voice.

Belphie didn't need any additional pleading. He moved his hands to hold your hips, even pressing one between your body and the mattress. And then he increased his pace again, this time getting wild and sloppy. The thrusts became fast and hard until you were crying out at the way his cock pulled the pleasure out of you.

You grasped the sheets, your fingers twisting around the material, nearly pulling them off the bed entirely.

Belphie's lips were back on your neck and this time he was biting down, bringing just a little bit of pain to your pleasure. It was enough to make that sweetness tighten deep in your belly and you felt yourself nearing your orgasm.

You cried out incoherently when you came and you felt the heat of Belphie's cum as he climaxed at the same time. The feeling of it filled you with a satisfaction you hadn't been expecting.

The two of you stayed still for a long time while you took in heavy breaths. Belphie backed up a little, giving you some space, but he wrapped his arms around you again, letting them rest against you gently.

"You can go do your homework now, MC," Belphie said, his voice low and a little raspy.

You sighed and twisted around in Belphie's arms so you were facing him. He was smiling at you. It was a lazy, smug sort of smile. You frowned, gripped his face, and kissed him.

This seemed to catch Belphie off guard at first, but it wasn't long before he returned the kiss, his mouth opening for you easily.

When you moved back a little to take a breath, Belphie smirked. "Already hoping for round two?"

You reached down and grasped his cock, which was hard again. "You have no room to talk. Unless you'd like me to go do my homework instead?"

Belphie didn't say anything in response to this, instead pulling you in closer and kissing you again.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 8- hate you too

Summary: Rafe is back at Tannyhill, taking care of “business.” Pope gets himself into some trouble, and you get to talk to Rafe again. But by doing so, you betrayed the pogues and your brother.

Series masterlist

“Look at you! You’re so grown up!” Big John told you, you gave him a smile and wrapped your arms around him. It had been a while since you’ve seen him.

Everyone celebrated big John’s return to the Chateau, JJ hopping on his back with a wide smile on his face.

JJ thought of him as the father he never had, whenever your guys dad used to hit him, he always had a place at the Chateau. You had even been there quite a few times, when it got real bad.

You all sat down now, listening to them explain everything.

“Yeah, yeah, so we, um… we went to the archive in Charleston, and, uh… it was a dead end. A dry hole.. so…”

“So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re there for three, guys.” Pope spoke, pausing. “The streak continues.” He scoffed. “That’s great.”

Pope and Kiara left, you looked at JJ and he stood up. You did as well, mostly because he was your only ride at the moment.

You got him a new bike with some of the money you saved, and you were fixing the car later.

“I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

“Yea, thank you. See you guys later.” You told them, giving John B and Big John a small smile before following him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“The cross is not on the train, Rafe. It did not arrive. Somebody stole the cross.” Wards voice spoke over the phone.

“Oh my God, wait, who stole it?” Rafe spoke, feigning his confusion.

“I don’t know who stole it, Rafe!”

“That’s rough.. I- I mean it could’ve been anybody, really, right?”

“Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people.”

“Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway… so, who cares?” He shrugged. “Who cares?”

Ward exhaled, making Rafe have a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, Rafe, okay. That’s done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you. I want you to… sign for the east river property, when that’s completed, shut down the offices-“

“Yeah, no, I- actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Uhm, I’m thinking maybe we should keep the offices.”

“..what?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while. You know, really grow the company. I think it’d be good for us, right!”

“Listen to me, Rafe-“

“No. No, no, no, you listen, okay?” He put himself on speaker. “You listening? You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, thats exactly what I’m doing. I’m making myself useful, alright? I can do shit, you know? Explore options… so for the benefit of all, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while, okay?”

“Rafe, listen to me, you are there for one reason. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay? That is our one play, and if you cannot do it-“

“If I can’t do it? If I can’t do it, then what? Then what?” He shouted, “you gonna hop on a plane? Come down here? I mean- it’ll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting! Ward Cameron, everyone! Oh my God, he lives! He’s back from the dead!”

Rafe scoffed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

“I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I’m wearing it, and it’s my time to step up, okay? You’re dead.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Hold on!” Ricky shouted from inside, you heard rummaging before he came over and opened the door.

He looked at you, your eyebags dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, your expression tired.

“Holy shit.” He spoke, dropping whatever was in his hands before stumbling to pick it back up.

“I- i heard you were back and i tried texting you- but-“ he said with a laugh when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Broke and lost my phone.” You told him, smiling as you pulled away from the hug.

“Shit- uh, come in.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“And rumor has it, along with everything else, you stole that catamaran out there.”

“I didn’t s- I was with Sarah Cameron when i was on that boat. That’s their families boat!” He pointed.

“Not according to the registration. It’s Rafe’s boat, and he says you stole it. He’s keeping it here because he doesn’t want you around it.”

“Okay, Billy, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Billy sighed out. “Guffy put the nix on it. Okay? I can find cheap help that doesn’t piss my clients off.” The phone started ringing and Billy glanced over. “I gotta go.” He sighed, leaving.

As JJ walked on the dock with tears begging to be let out, he heard a familiar voice shout.

“Damn, Rafe. Come on, country club. Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me! You got a whole YMCA up on this bitch, dude.” Barry spoke with a laugh.

“Barry! Time to think. All right, we need to make a move.” Rafe shouted, standing up now.

“That’s all we do, bro. We been making moves.”

JJ hid, watching the conversation and listening in on it.

“Yeah, well we don’t have much time. Yo, come down here, you’re not gonna believe this shit.” Rafe spoke, all of them stepping down.

JJ sighed, thinking as he stood up. He took off his shoes, and dove into the water.

“I’m just saying we need to take this shit seriously.” JJ heard Rafe say when he went closer, now in front of the boat.

“Dude, bro, i should get a tooth made out of this, huh?” Barry asked, smiling as he held up a bar to his teeth.

“Look, don’t be touching the shit. Just put it back.” Rafe told him.

“So paranoid, bro.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the cross. I’m trying to make money.”

JJs head snapped up at his words.

“I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches. The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada.” Barry told Rafe.

“These gems are mint, man. The golds bullion. We’re selling it in bars. Alright? I’m not gonna deal with some half assed pogue shit with some reject from Zale’s, bro-“

“Watch how you speaking about my auntie, dog.”

“I’m not talking about your aunt. I’m just…” JJ swum back to the dock, the rest of the conversation not important now that he knew about the gold and the cross.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Pope… he has the cross and he melted it down.”

Popes face fell, he stared out into the water.

“Fuck!” He shouted. “Of course it was Rafe.” He said as he panted.

“Yeah, I mean, we probably coulda guessed that.” You said.

“The cross of Santo Domingo, desecrated! For money? God!”

“I know.. so.. I think we need to stay calm to make a plan, but we got to stay-“ JJs sentence was cut off as Pope smashed the floorboards.

“Getting better at that.”

“This is messed up, man. Even for them.”

“I know.” JJ said.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You told them.

“And they’re just gonna keep getting away with it. They’re gonna keep doing that shit. Gonna keep winning.”

“I mean, pope, is this news to y-“

You hit JJs shoulder before he could finish that sentence, giving him a pointed look as he rubbed his shoulder.

“No. But I’m sick of being the good guy.” He said, before walking away.

“Pope.” Cleo said, but he started to run. “Pope, where are you going?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Well, I appreciate the help, you three.” Mrs. Heyward spoke, you and Cleo coming out and setting up tables.

“You know I ain’t missing Mrs. Hayward’s cooking.” JJ said with a small smile, wiping down the table.

“Unlike my derelict son. He’s usually here by now”

JJ tried to steal something off the grill, but his hand was slapped away.

“I’m sure he’ll be back any second, Mrs. Heyward. Probably just going through a rough time. It’s been hard adjusting back to normal life. For all of us.” You told her, a hopeful smile on your face.

“Either one of yall moved the pistol from in there?” Heyward spoke, pointing to the inside. “The one I keep under the register?”

“JJ?”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t touch it. Okay?” He quickly defended

“He didn’t.” You told him.

“Yeah, well somebody did. Cause it’s gone.”

“I got my own gun, Mr. Heyward.” You held your hands up in defense when he looked at you.

“You see? I- dang it. I gotta find it.” He stormed inside, Mrs. Heyward following.

“Shit.” You muttered, turning to the both of them

“He’s going after Rafe.”

“I’ll check the marina.” You quickly spoke up. “Okay… I’ll come with.” JJ spoke, but you shook your head.

“Go with Cleo to Tannyhill. I doubt he’ll be at the marina still.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I haven’t talked to you in a minute, all right? No, look, listen, okay, the situation is we got… I got it. I got it right here. It’s bars, in bullion. All right.” Rafe spoke on the phone, pacing on the boat.

Pope held the gun, moving it up. He cocked it, pointing it to Rafe and aiming carefully with tears in his eyes.

He heard the footsteps before he heard your voice.

“Pope..” you mumbled. “If you do this, your whole life will go to shit. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you care about your mother. And your father. What would they think?”

“I think they would understand how I feel.” Pope said, tears now streaming down his face. “For once, he would lose like we always do.”

You sighed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, as he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve lost everything.”

“Are you kidding? You have a family, you have a home. You have friends that would kill themselves for you. Pope, you are the smartest fucking kid I know, but that is some bullshit coming out your mouth right now.” You paused for a moment.

“I know that right now it feels like nothing matters, and believe me, I’ve been there, but trust me, what you do is going to matter.” You continued.

You grabbed his arm, lowering it along with the gun, he exhaled and sobbed. You held him, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“Just breathe, dude. You’re good.”

You glanced back at Rafe on the boat, watching him pace back and forth on the phone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, J. I already asked, but there’s no room left in the house. I’m sorry.” You told him, a sad smile on your face.

“You think you can stay at the Chateau for a while? I- I just got this new job, and I’m really trying. I swear. I’m gonna get like- I’m gonna have to get like two more, but I swear, I’m gonna get some place soon, even if it’s like.. a fucking shithole-“ you rambled on.

JJ nodded, cutting your off with his words. “I’ll figure it out, it’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”He told you, shrugging and putting his cap back on his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, I’m sure. Jb won’t mind, I already practically lived with him before, I’ll do it for years again if I have to.” He shrugged.

“Thank you, JJ. See you,” you nodded, giving him a small smile before walking away.

“See you, dude,”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yeah, a lot happened after that. John B showed up, Big John had been kidnapped, and now JJ and John B were going to some professors house to get info on where he might be, because all they knew is he was somewhere in South America.

And you were currently working two jobs, one of which was a bartender one.

The bar was in a club on figure eight, so of course you heard a bunch of shit. But today, you couldn’t help but listening in on the conversation.

“You know that Rafe Cameron is sellin’ fucking gold? From like some… ancient artifact or something?” One man said to another, downing the shot he had just gotten.

“Sell a bit here, a little bit there. Under the radar.” Rafe had told Barry when he talked about the plan for selling the gold. Clearly, that had not worked as well as they hoped, since word got around.

You listened intently, your job of wiping up the bar now forgotten.

“What? That’s weird. Heard he’s been on his fuckin’ rocker ever since his dad, and ever since that one girl from the cut.. what’s her name?”

“You talkin’ bout Maybanks sister?” The man asked, not even glancing at you as you filled up his cup again.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Her. He’s been weird since they broke up.”

“Has he, now?” You asked them with a quirked eyebrow. It was then they looked at you, eyes widening in realization.

“I mean, shit, I see why now.” One of them mumbled when you walked away, making you smile to yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tannyhill parties. You hated them. You sighed as you stood in front of the house, shaking your head to yourself as you went in through the back and hopped through an open window, avoiding the dude at the front door.

Rafe really had to hire his own bouncer? That’s low.

You tried not to get spotted, and somehow it had worked. Because among all the drunk and horny teenagers, you were hidden.

You went up the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. And you glanced in his room, no sign of him.

“And, if you would kindly follow me, Miss Sofia.” Rafe spoke, guiding her outside.

“VIP section.” He spoke, putting an arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, only very, very special people are allowed here.. so.”

“Mm..”

“So you can see the water…” he pointed out to the ocean.

“Hey, that ain’t no Jim beam bullshit! All right? That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a days salary bro! Aye, if you don’t have a drink in your hand get the hell out of my house! Get off my property!” He shouted to the partygoers, all of them cheering at him.

“So this is the VIP life huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

“Cool.” She beamed at him.

“You wanna see some more?” He asked, but before she could answer he heard a a familiar voice.

“Nice party. This shit still tastes like garbage.” You told him, holding up the red cup with some expensive shit you got downstairs.

You wouldn’t admit it stung to see him with another girl. But you did like the way her smile faltered and fell when his eyes were on you now.

“How’d you get in here? Thought I had-“

You shrugged. “I used a window. Can we talk?”

He glanced at you and back at Sofia.

“Alone.” You clarified.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” He told her quietly. She nodded.

You both went into his room, he shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked around the room.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” He snapped impatiently.

“Jeez, okay, okay. Just cut to the chase, do you have my jacket? I haven’t been able to find it and I know I always left it here.”

“You came here, through a window, for a fuckin’ jacket?” He asked, his tone annoyed.

“No… that’s… that’s not my point. I just… Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

He was listening now.

“Why the fuck did you burn down the cross?” You asked him.

“What?” He laughed, your sudden change in demeanor was hilarious to him. “I- it’s mine. Don’t you guys get that?” He pointed to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mine. I fuckin’ went to hell and back for that thing.” He pointed, voice louder now.

“Yeah, all for some fuckin’ money! Which, may I remind you, you already have plenty of. You’re being an asshole, Rafe-“

“Yeah, and when am I not with you?” He scoffed.

“Do you really wanna have this argument? Right here? And while I’m here, I broke up with you, so why are you telling people it’s the other way around? You don’t wanna seem like a pussy or something?” You are practically shouting now, happy that the music drained out the noise.

“Oh, don’t even!” He laughed. “Are you fucking-“

“It is Popes cross, not yours. And just admit you don’t wanna be seen as the boy who begged and cried for his girlfriend to come back!” You yelled at him, poking your finger into his chest.

When the fuck did you two get so close to each other? You thought.

You looked up at him, panting. He stared down at you. He grabbed your wrist, harshly holding it in his hand.

Your heart raced as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fiery, heated kiss. One full of anger, pent up feelings. Of course, you didn’t reciprocate at first.

You fell under his spell, however, seconds later, kissing him back. His hand let go of your wrist, and were currently on your sides, pulling you even closer as you both crashed onto the floor, you straddling him.

“I- I fucking hate you.” You muttered when you both pulled away, causing him to smirk against your lips.

“Hate you too.” He told you, going back to shoving his tongue in your mouth.

————————

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Negotiations (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe puts you in the glass cage and makes you negotiate for your freedom

Warnings: typical creepy Joe behavior (implied stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, etc.), the reader either doesn't understand the full gravity of their situation or just doesn't care

A/N: I realized I never officially wrote something for it so here y'all go (this was written super quickly so idk if it's any good or not)

"So I had to do it, you see. I had to get rid of them. I had to save you," Joe insisted frantically, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.

You'd woken up in the infamous glass cage underneath the bookstore he worked at, curiously looking around. The only thing you'd said so far was to ask where to you, to which he replied "somewhere safe". Talk about ominous.

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" You spoke up suddenly, as you soon realized upon inspecting the inside of your new home that there wasn't a toilet. There was, however, a bucket.

"Well..." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the question. It didn't take much for you to put two and two together.

You gave him a look that was a cross between disgust and disbelief. "I can't pee in a bucket, Joe."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you out." He felt bad, sure, but he had to do this. He had to make sure that you were safe, even if it meant making you a little mad at him.

Crossing your arms, you turned in the opposite direction, refusing to look at him. Clearly you weren't too fond of your new living arrangements and were choosing to pout.

"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," he lied upfront as he watched you. It was that bad, actually. Using a bucket to go to the bathroom was pretty gross.

And now he was starting to feel bad for putting you in this kind of situation. Anger was one thing, that he could handle. He could brace himself against that, or he rationalize away your worries or fears, but you seemed less genuinely upset and more annoyed than anything else.

He let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated his options. You were ignoring him, and he just couldn't have that. "If I let you out, you have to promise not to run away from me or anything like that. Understood?"

As if on cue, you turned back to face him again, a look of hope in your eyes. "Really?"

Joe tried not to let out a laugh when he saw you get close to the glass and press your face against it. "Yeah, really. Just- you have to move in with me. I don't want you living alone anymore. And I have to know where you are at all times."

Sure, he knew he could just follow you like usual, but he wanted you to be able to trust him. "And there's certain people that I don't want you hanging around anymore. Deal?"

Oh, god, what was he saying? This was going to be too much to put on you all at once. He should've just started with one small thing and gone from there, he shouldn't have given you an entire list-

"Deal."

Your voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Part of him wanted to believe you, even if he was a little suspicious that you'd agreed so quickly. Then again, you seemed so sincere, trusting even, observing him the same way anyone who truly loved their partner would: like he was the only thing that mattered.

"Could you let me out now? I really need to go pee."

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to the door of the cage and unlocked it, letting you out. "Remember what I told you, alright? I don't want to have to put you back in there," he tried to make himself sound stern, to show you that he wasn't playing around when he said that.

To his surprise, you responded by giving him a hug. "You're such a sweetheart, caring about me so much," you muttered affectionately.

He couldn't stop himself from melting into your touch. If this was an act, it was certainly working.

"I'll never, ever leave you."

God, you were going to be the death of him. "And I'll never let you go," he promised in turn.

He really meant it when he said that. He was never going to let you go. Not that you seemed to mind.

End notes: I don't know if this is any good or not honestly. I really wanted to write something for Joe but I was kind of at a loss for what exactly to write about so 🤷 send me some ideas though if y'all want

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[auroralwriting]

the master heist

con artist!bucky barnes x reader

bucky wants you to help him get his money back from an old friend.

warnings: violence, light manipulation, kind of dark bucky, based off of seb's movie sharper!

word count: 2.5k!

"What the hell do you want with me?"

You hadn't even learned the man's name yet. He picked you up off the side of the street after a very public and very loud fight and breakup with your now ex-boyfriend. He pulled up in a Mercedes, walking out, grabbing your duffel bag of personal items. He tossed it in the backset, waving you, telling you to come on in. So, you did. It wasn't like you had anywhere else to go.

"What's your favorite movie?" He asked, ignoring your previous question. He was making himself a drink, holding an empty cup to offer you some. You shook your head.

"Uh," You hesitated, "I guess maybe Jurassic Park?"

The man raised a brow, coming to sit next to you. You tensed at his presence. "Yeah, good plot. Stupid people,"

"Very," You mused softly. "Why would you even want to go to a theme park with real dinosaurs?"

"And that man who died at the beginning?" The man nodded.

You turned your body closer to him, "Yeah, it was so stupid."

"I wouldn't know, I've never seen it." The man suddenly said. Well, wasn't he just full of surprises?

The drink in the man's cup swirled as he set it down. "You've never seen it." Your words came out less of a question, and more in disbelief.

"I'm not really a movie guy," He hummed. "And that's what I'm going to teach you."

Your eyebrow dipped up in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

The man gave an annoyed sigh, "I make people believe I'm someone else to get whatever the hell I want."

"So," You paused, shaking your head in disbelief at the current situation you'd gotten yourself in. "You're a con-artist?"

"No," The man replied, "I'm like, an actor, you could say. I'm not hurting people or anything."

Well that was weird. "I never said you did," You argued back. The man rubbed his chin with a chuckle at your reply. "What? Did I say something funny?"

"You've got fire, I like that." He acknowledged. "What's your name?" You told him your name, he nodded, mouthing it like he was getting used to saying it. "I'm Bucky. Look, I need some help. I can't always get the.. customers I need. That's where you come in."

That made you wonder what kind of gig this was. "What's in it for me?"

"Free place to stay, share of money, someone to cook for you," Bucky listed. "Want me to carry on, or do you get it?" Bucky's tone wasn't condescending, nor was it full of malice.

"Why me?" You questioned. "You don't even know me. Also, how do I even know you're a safe individual? You could be, like, some murderer who wants to sell my parts on the black market."

Bucky chuckled at your words. "One, I don't murder or even consider the black market as a viable option for my work. Two, I'll give you every proof of identity I have, hell, I'll even let you run a background check." Bucky paused, giving you a smile. "But, let's be honest, where else do you have to go?"

He was right. You didn't have anywhere else to go. Bucky was your only option as of right now. Plus, you'd be making an income. "Alright," You sighed. "I'll help you."

"My name is Avalon DeClain, I was born in Mississippi, moved to Pennsylvania when I was six for my dads work." You recited. "I majored in chemistry in college, Penn State, graduated top of my class. I have a dog, Sydney, a german shepard. I'm single and my parents died when I was in high school."

Bucky smirked, "What year did you graduate?"

"Class of '16," You replied. "Graduated college early by a year in '19."

"You're doing better than I thought," Bucky smiled honestly. "Really, good job."

You smiled at his words, a small rush of heat going to your cheeks. "Thank you," It had been a month and a half since you started living with Bucky. As promised, he took care of you. He was teaching you all he knew.

"What do you say we celebrate tonight?" Bucky offered.

"Celebrate what?" You asked, your knees pulled up to your chest as Bucky stood up to grab some drinks for the two of you. "Is it your birthday or something?"

Bucky laughed, "No, not my birthday. Just," Bucky sucked in a breath, "A celebration of your wild achievements. I'd say you're graduating top of my class."

"Well, I'd sure hope so." You teased as Bucky walked back over. He handed you a glass of champagne, his own filled with a dark wine. "I am your only student, after all."

"And still my best work," Bucky clinked his glass with your own as you both took sips.

For a while, the both of you talked and drank. Somewhere in the last month, you had gotten Bucky to actually open up. He told you about how he grew up doing this life with some friends. However, he refused to speak about one in particular; Steve. Tonight, things seemed different though.

"Look, we've been doing small stuff," Bucky started, his tone becoming more serious. "You're perfect at the small stuff. But, I haven't been honest with you, doll."

"What happened with him?" You cautiously asked, ignoring the burning of your cheeks at the nickname

Bucky's eyes widened for a moment, his face then relaxing as he released a breath. "I knew you were intuitive." Bucky sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Steve was my best bud. We did, well, everything together. Until, well, one big job we found." You nodded, urging Bucky to go on. "It was some old guy, Richard. We both decided to become his assistants until he passed; he was old as rocks, if not older. After he passed, Steve and I said we'd split the money. It was around ten grand each. I guess the old man also had grandkids."

The look on Bucky's face almost broke your heart. "He took it all,"

"Not just that," Bucky continued. "He tried to get me fucking arrested. Damn good thing I was friends with one of the cops."

"So," You began. "How are we getting him back?"

Bucky's face was a mixture of relief, joy, and passion. "I love that fire in you," He sighed contently. "Tomorrow night, Steve's going out on his annual celebration. Something to do with his work successes?" Bucky wasn't sure. "His actual job, conning is a side for him."

"All right," You reassured. "I'm ready for this. What's our plan?"

"You're gonna flirt with him," Bucky explained. "He doesn't have a type, just pretty girls with short dresses. You're gonna explain how you need money for grad school, and of course he's gonna give it to you. He prides himself on being some social saint or whatever."

This plan felt way too easy. "That's all?" You remarked. "That feels.. too easy."

"Steve's girlfriend, Natasha," Bucky sighed, "She's gonna be up his ass all night. You gotta find a way to get her out of there."

You internally cringed. Great, that was significantly harder than before. "What's she like?"

"I really don't have a single clue," Bucky huffed out. "That's the one flaw of this, which is why I need to be sure you can do this."

Bucky looked nearly defeated. It was obvious he needed your help, he couldn't do it without you. "I promise you," You grabbed Bucky's hands. "I can get you that money."

No, you thought. I can get you even more.

Bucky had no way of checking in on you to see how things were going. He left his full trust in you to not fuck this up. You could see it in him all day; he was stressed. His hand kept running through his hair, he couldn't stop tapping his feet against the wood floor.

You walked into the bar, a smooth, tight, black dress on, red heels to match. You looked around for a moment, seeing if you could spot Steve.

It really wasn't hard to find him, bright blonde hair, a boisterous laugh that was actually really cute. That was definitely the man you were looking for.

Bucky gave you a script to follow. Steve once knew a guy, Howard, back from high school. The two had zero connection now, but good old Howard was your way in.

"Excuse me," You asked, walking up behind Steve. He and Natasha both turned around. "Are you Steve Rogers?

Steve gave a smile, "Yeah, that's me. You are?"

"Oh, I'm Avalon." You reached out your hand to Steve which he shook. You followed the same action with Natasha. "I'm good friends with Howard."

Steve slapped the counter with joy, "Howard! I remember that son of a bitch. How is he?"

"Great," You smiled. Natasha scooted over a seat, letting you sit between the two. "He's got a wife, good job."

"That's great. I always liked that guy, such a good man. He deserves a great life." Steve gushed as you awkwardly smiled in return. You ordered a drink as Steve rambled.

You shyly began to comb your fingers through your hair as Steve subtly checked you out. "He was actually the one to tell me about you. He thought, well, maybe you could give me a hand."

The bartender slid you the drink, one you failed to catch as it spilled all over the front of you. Both Steve and Natasha gasped. "Oh my god! Oh, that'll never come out." Natasha gasped.

Steve quickly grabbed napkins to help you try and sop some of it up. "Are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine, just a ruined dress. I just bought it, too." You whined. In reality, this was all a part of your perfectly made plan to get Natasha out of there.

"Sweets, I'm gonna run home and grab her a new dress. We only live fifteen away and there is no way I'm letting her spend the rest of the night in a ruined dress." Natasha fell for the bait. This was perfect.

You quickly feigned guilt, "Oh, no. Please, it's really okay."

"No, I insist." Natasha said as she stood up, grabbing her belongings. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Stevie." Natasha left a small kiss on his cheek and rushed out of the building.

"I'm so sorry about your dress," Steve said, eyeing places it did not spill.

"It's fine, really." You said.

Steve was not subtle with checking you out anymore. "So, what was that favor Howard said I could help with?"

"Well," You bit your lip in a fake shame. Steve was quick to use his thumb to remove it from your teeth. "I have a pretty lousy job. I have this shitty apartment and a dog to take care of. I'm still paying off student loans, and I need to get my masters to get a decent paying job," You falsely admitted to Steve, batting your eyes at him as you sighed deeply. "I just.. can't afford to live. I'm eating a meal a day to afford dog food and groceries. Howard said that maybe you could help me out?"

You'd never seen a man nod quicker than Steve in that moment. "I'll do you one better. I'll help you pay off those student loans and get yo you paid off for grad school."

A gasp left your lips. To Steve, it was shock of his kindness. In reality, it was shock your plan worked. "Oh, God no. I couldn't ask for all of that. I was just gonna see if you wanted my dog-"

"Anything for a friend of Howard." Steve shook his head. "How do you want the money? Actually, no. Let me give it to you cash. You don't need to pay more taxes from that." You didn't even notice Steve had a briefcase with him. He opened it, leaving you in shock. You'd never seen so many hundred dollar bills stacked together before.

Steve counted out some stacks, making a pile. "I'm just gonna spit this half with you. Should be, ah, about maybe twenty grand?"

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. "Steve, I really couldn't-"

"Please," Steve scoffed. "I could make this money back in a day. I insist, you deserve a beautiful life for a beautiful woman." Steve's hand rested on your cheek as he thumbed it over softly. For some reason, his touch made you uncomfortable. All you really wanted was Bucky.

"I appreciate this more than you know." You sighed, leaning into his touch. "Thank you, Steve."

"It's no problem, sweetheart. Here, use this to carry all that in. We don't need you getting robbed." Steve handed over a large pouch from the case, shoving the money in it. "Get home safe, and give me a call sometime."

You nodded with a smile, but deep down you felt disgusted. You couldn't wait to show Bucky what you got.

"Bucky?" You called as you walked in. You walked in the living room to see Bucky jumping up from his seat.

"You look scared shitless, doll. What happened?" Bucky immediately rushed to your side. You hadn't even noticed how anxious you were, but it was a good anxious. "Did he touch you? I swear I will fuck him up if-"

Cutting off Bucky, you opened the bag to reveal the money. "He did some light touching, but I made it work to get you a little something extra."

"Ho-ly shit," Bucky breathed out, his eyes gleaming with disbelief. "Doll, how much is this?:

"Steve said twenty grand," You answered. "I thought I would play it up to get some more out of this."

Bucky looked to you, alarmed. "Did you let him-"

"No!" You cut him off again. "God, no. I just let him eye-fuck me and touch my cheek. That was enough for him. You're right, he is some social saint."

Bucky quickly scooped you up, hugging you tightly in his arms. "Fuck, doll! You're a fucking genius. You're actually fucking insane!" Bucky yelled as you laughed. "Why'd you do that? Put yourself through that for this?"

"It was for you, Bucky." You shyly admitted. "You gave me a second chance, so I wanted to give you what you deserved."

Bucky's hands came to rest at your hips as he drew you in closer. "Did you like the way he looked at you?"

"I only like the way you look at me," You breathed out, his face getting much closer to yours. "I just wanted you to be the one to touch me."

"Doll," Bucky muttered, his lips so close to your own you could almost feel them. "You're a fucking dream." Bucky pushed his lips against your own as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You sighed contently into the kiss. "Your dress is also fucking sopping the floors."

You gave a smirk to Bucky, "So take it off, then." He smirked wildly at you as he grabbed your hand, leading you to his room.

"Maybe I will,"