#sorry i never had the ability to dress how i want so now that i DO i get excited i like to share

[absentmoon]

im wearing a tank top today <-win for courier

[lovelybucky1]

Crybaby (Logan x Reader)

warnings: AFAB!reader, age gap, mean!logan, yelling, dacraphyillia, slightly dark, vaginal fingering, 18+ minors dni, divider from @strangergraphics

You can feel Logan’s eyes staring holes into the back of your head on the jet. You fucked up on this mission and he made sure you knew it. Loudly. In front of the rest of the team. He practically ripped you a new one with his harsh words, insulting your intelligence, strength, and ability to use your powers. Jean, the sweet angel she is, gently talked Logan down and saved you from facing more of his anger. Unfortunately, no one will be able to stop him once you get back to the mansion. 

When you land, you hurry off the jet so Logan isn’t able to catch up with you. He made his point perfectly clear earlier, and you don’t need to hear any more of his yelling. You gather your things and make it back to your room without interruption, leaving you alone to clean up from the mission and deal with the day’s events.

Earth-wielding powers aren’t something to use when distracted, but so many things were happening at once that you slipped up. Storm got caught between two large rocks that you had moved and she was almost seriously hurt. Luckily you caught your mistake before any damage was done, but Logan still found your actions unacceptable. Guilt stews in your stomach as you think about what could’ve happened to Storm. You never would have forgiven yourself if a mistake you made got one of your teammates killed.

By the time you’re fresh from the shower and dressed, it’s late. You should head to bed and forget this mess of a day, but you can’t let yourself. You decide to go to the library, a place you usually go for privacy away from those with enhanced hearing. You sit in one of the armchairs with your legs tucked under you. The fireplace in the room is always lit and it give an orange glow to the cozy room. 

As you sit, you remember all of the things Logan had said to you. It was as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin, targeting all of your insecurities like they were written on your face. Those insults from anyone else may not have hurt as much as they did coming from Logan, the man you’ve been in a relationship with for weeks now. You can’t stop the tears leaking from your eyes, and your stomach burns with shame as you recall what Logan had called you earlier. A crybaby. 

“You’re a pathetic little crybaby who doesn’t deserve a spot on this fuckin’ team.”

He spit the mean words at you like he has been waiting to say them for a while. You thought you were getting closer with Logan, perhaps making a romantic connection. Your relationship with him started as something purely physical, but you felt like you were growing closer to him. Perhaps that was wishful thinking. You’re surprised you held back tears then, but now, away from prying eyes, you let them fall. You muffle your sobs in your shirt sleeves, but you’re obviously not quiet enough. Your attention is grabbed by a figure standing in the doorway. 

Logan’s shadowed figure blocks the dim light from the hall as he looks in on you, sobbing in the dark like the crybaby he knew you were. He looks uncomfortable like he’s trying to find something to make this awkward encounter better, but he comes up short. Instead, he walks into the room and behind your chair. He places a heavy hand on your shoulder and squeezes it slightly.

“I’m sorry about today,” he says after some time. “I… didn’t mean to yell at you like that.” You don’t respond because, honestly, what could you say to that? He humiliated you in front of everyone. Logan says your name gently, wanting you to respond, but you stay quiet.

With a sigh, he steps around the chair and squats down in front of it so he can be at eye level with you. “Please say something,” he urges.

You look up from your lap at him, and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach. He looks beautiful in the glow from the fireplace, but his features are blurred a bit by the tears in your eyes. His expression grows even more guilty when he sees your tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna make fun of me?” you ask, voice thick.

Logan’s eyes furrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You were right. I am a crybaby,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean that, I just… I got carried away.” Logan pauses for a moment. “Let me make you feel better. Please.”

Hearing The Wolverine plead for permission to console you is unexpected, but not unwelcome. You nod and he gently scoops you into his arms before sitting down in the place you just were. He settles you on his lap and he wraps his arms around you. You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the musky smell that you’ve come to love. You let yourself cry into his shirt, making the fabric damp with your tears.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers.

He lets you cry for a little while longer before the guilt catches up to him again. “Sweetheart?”

You look up at him with your glassy doe eyes and he can’t bring himself to look away. You’re so sweet, so innocent, so naive, and sometimes it gets the better of you. Logan looks at your red-rimmed eyes and your swollen lips and he thinks you’re beautiful. He wants to kiss those tears away and he feels like a monster for it. He’s the reason you’re crying, for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Whatever he was going to say went out the window. Sometimes Logan feels like he is no better than an animal, especially during moments like these. The girl he cares most about is in his lap, shaking like a leaf because of what he said to her, and the only thing the feral part of his brain can think about is how badly he wants her. It’s the predator instinct, to want to pounce on the helpless little lamb. He knows it’s wrong, he knows he hurt her and this is no way to make up for it. But sometimes he just can’t help himself.

“You’re my little crybaby, ain’t ya?” he asks. The question is condescending, but he keeps that same sympathetic tone. 

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“I’m sorry about before, baby, I really am. But you cryin’ like this in my lap… you’re so goddamn sweet.”

Logan brushes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb and you instinctively open your mouth and let him in. You suck on his thumb gently as fat tears fall down your cheeks again. He watches with half-lidded eyes as you take more of his thumb into your mouth like you’re greedy for more, despite being so upset.

“You cry so fuckin’ pretty,” he praises, and just to be an asshole, he adds, “I should make you do it more often.”

You pout around his finger, which makes him grin down at you. “Let me make it up to you, baby. Would my dick make you feel better?”

You should tell him to fuck off. How dare he berate you and then expect to fuck you a few hours later. You should tell him that your relationship is done. You shouldn’t want him to fuck you senseless right now. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod. Gently, Logan adjusts you in his lap so your straddling his thighs. Only the small pair of cotton panties that you were wearing under your sweatshirt and his jeans separate you. He undones the fly of his pants and frees his cock easily, the weight of you on top of him not hindering him any. His fingers find the elastic band of your panties and he pulls them to the side easily, exposing your wet pussy. 

When he feels your slick on his finger, he gives you a questioning look. You feel like explaining that it turns you on when a man comforts you is a conversation for another day, so you just shrug innocently.

Logan works his fingers inside of you to prep him for his cock. He’s big, but thankfully it doesn’t take too much work to get you ready for him. Both of you are impatient by nature, and right now especially, you’re not in the mood for much foreplay.

Once Logan deems you ready, he positions you and sinks you down on his cock. Your greedy cunt swallows every inch like the good girl you are and he praises you for it. Once you’re fully seated, you try to ride him but he stops you.

“I’ve got you, doll. I’ll do the work and you can keep crying it out. How’s that sound?” he asks in that infuriatingly hot voice he only uses when he fucks you. Leaning forward, you hide your face in the crook of his neck and you nod. “Yeah, that’s my good little crybaby.”

reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is open for logan thoughts!

[retiredteabag]

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5

synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Toji had stayed the night at many women's houses. At some point down the line, he started requesting they order him an Uber or something, but in the beginning, he was hardly at his own place. And for a brief period, when he was in a real desperate situation, he stayed with the women because he didn't have a place of his own.

That's why it's so strange to Toji, to feel apprehensive at staying the night in your home.

You won't even be there, what's it matter? He thought.

But then again, that might be why he's a bit uneasy about the whole thing. You were to be gone three days for a work event. And you had entrusted him with your entire place. He had showered and napped in your house, eaten your food and brought in the mail. He was comfortable to the point it felt like a second (much nicer) home. What he had never done, was stay the night. He certainly hadn't slept in your bed...

You had seemed overwhelmed and uneasy about the situation while walking him through everything. You had been on the opposite side of the kitchen island when you had said,

"I know this is so short notice, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't even supposed to be on this trip, I asked not to go, but the other official called out sick." Your hands made grand and elaborate gestures and your dogs head wobbled as he followed your theatrical hands. "So now, I'm stuck, I have to go." You sounded upset.

"'S not a problem. So, what day does the trash go out, again?" He held back a grin as your shoulders drooped.

"Toji, you're my hero. Thank you. And Wednesday, don't worry if you forget to take it out though."

You had informed him that the dog would probably like it best if he stayed downstairs with him while you were away. Meaning-sleeping in the master bedroom. In your bedroom. On your bed.

Oh...kay...

He shrugged it off as you muttered some, "of course, I'll clean the sheets so don't worry about that..." And explained about the difficult relationship between the dog and the mailman. But he was too caught up in the fact that you were so trusting of him.

There didn't seem to be any uncomfortable air around you, other than your work-related stress around the trip, but you didn't seem to have a problem with this big-ass man spending a few days in at your place.

Toji had lots of appeal, and he had grown to know, the majority of it was sex appeal. And the fact that you clearly had no interest in that aspect of his abilities... made him feel odd. Any time he would throw a compliment at you, you would smile politely, and say something nice about him. Except it was always,

"You're so good at you're job!"

"I'm so glad I can trust you to look after my puppy!"

"I appreciate how efficient you are!"

it made his ears feel hot.

So did the smell of your bedsheets. In fact, your pillowcases had such an effect on him, on that first night you were gone, he found himself rummaging through your things to distract himself.

He meandered through your room, pulling books and sticky notes off dressers and walking through your closet nook. He intentionally did not open any drawers but when he stumbled upon a pair of pajamas lying on a bookcase ladder, he quickly turned around and went to examine the fascinating blanket collection at the foot of your bed.

Staying at your place meant he could sleep in if he wanted to, but that morning he got out of bed earlier than usual. He wasn't going to let his mind wander while lying in the same spot you lay.

He found himself pretending he actually lived in the space. Getting dressed. Feeding the dog. Making breakfast. All in the luxurious home he did not belong in. After some time he realized all of these fantasies included you. He imagined making coffee as you sat across the island, he imagined talking with you, as a normal person, over pancakes, or whatever the hell rich people ate.

Eventually, he had to shake the thoughts from his head as they began to seem too domestic.

One thing that carried throughout the days of your leave, was the photos. You had repeatedly told him to never hesitate to contact you, "And please feel free to send pictures!" So send pictures- he did.

On walks, in the back yard, while booping the dog's nose, after giving the beast a treat. He sent most to you but kept some for himself. You acted as if he was spoiling you with these images of your own canine, the hearted messages and polite, "This really made my day!" stuck with him, when in reality, you were the one spoiling him with how much you had given him for his stay.

Once upon a time, the money he had in his wallet would have already been gone. A real likelihood being that he took the cash and left the dog to fend for itself. Only naive people paid before the service was completed. But he was a different man now. Or so he told himself as he pondered how you must think of him.

You must think highly. To pay so much upfront. You must trust him.

That evening, after walking the dog one last time, he flipped his phone around in his hand while lying down, legs hanging off your mattress. It was late, he was wondering what you were doing and what he should spend his money on when he felt the vibrations of his phone.

He saw your contact pop up and was quick to open the messaging app. What he saw, however, confused him a great deal.

"I would like for you to not involve the police with this. If possible, do keep this event and its handlings between us, I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this."

He sprang up in the bed, his feet planted on the floor as he read and reread your message over and over. Confusion filled him, was this message intended for him? If so, had you discovered something about Toji's past? Or had you mistakenly sent the message to him?

What was this about?

He began to write back, only to stop. He wanted to see if you would alter your text, or confirm your mistake. When you didn't and he could not take it any longer. He responded.

"What event are we discussing?"

Immediately he saw that you had read his reply, and quickly he saw an ellipses appear. It faded quickly. He waited for what seemed like forever, unsure of what to say. "I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this" he knew you had discussed his working for you before with your co-workers before he distinctly told you he wasn't looking for more work.

Sick of all the waiting, he decided to call you. And as soon as the phone rang, it immediately went to voice mail.

Clearly, you had been in a hurry to avoid his call. Unsure of how to proceed, he texted again.

"???"

He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose to pace the bedroom. Finally a message arrived.

"Terribly sorry, that message was intded for my boss. I texted your ontact by mistake."

Toji tried to digest exactly what this meant. He saw the typos in your message and quickly wondered if you had ever been so careless before. He scrolled up to scan previous conversations but decided it was unimportant.

"I see" he began, he wanted to ask what was happening but he knew he wouldn't want anyone prying into him, especially if it involved anything incriminating. He tried to relax himself. Perhaps the comment had nothing to do with him, even so, he decided to call you again to clarify what had just happened.

In a harsh contrast to before, the phone barely had a chance to ring before you picked up. Toji knew he hadn't been thinking straight. But when he saw the call start he realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say. It wasn't but a moment later that he discovered that all of his unanswered questions were irrelevant.

He held the phone up to his ear and heard quick breaths from the other end of the call. What he assumed was a frantic exhale, came out more like a sob as he heard pained whimpers.

"Didn't mean to...sorry about tonight. It was my mistake." You were speaking very slowly, in a calculated sort of way. Still, your voice shook.

Toji was impossibly still as he listened to your voice. "What's going on, y/n?"

That night he would lay in bed, trying to sleep, and realize that this particular moment might have been the first time he used your name intentionally. In the moment, however, he was all too occupied to care. He wanted to come off as gentle and friendly, something he was completely unaccustomed to.

The line went quiet. There was a long pause before a throaty squeak came and a warbled, "...sorry" was heard. Just before the call ended.

Toji began to pace again, he called you once more before he decided that it might be best to not pressure you. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to write a text. But he had nothing to say, he was experiencing confusion and confusion alone.

Turns out, he didn't need to start the conversation again, in your never-ending kindness, you sent, "I'm sorry for all of this, this is a small matter with work at the moment and I did not mean to startle you. I see how it might have come off as concerning. I promise this will not effect you. I'm sorry. Please forget this occurred."

Relief flooded Toji faster than he could question it. So this didn't involve him. But what exactly was happening? He gave your message a thumbs up... but something was still stuck eating at his brain.

"Were you crying just now?" He sent.

He expected a long wait before you responded but, to his surprise you reply was prompt.

"Sorry about that."

And a moment later, "I didn't mean to involve you."

That feeling in his stomach sunk further as he stared at his phone. Unsure of what to say, your dog whimpered at his feet and Toji took a deep breath.

"I wasn't asking for you to apologize" he typed, trying to put his intentions into words. "Are you okay?"

He couldn't remember the last time he had asked someone about their wellbeing. So when you responded,

"Yes. I think so." He found himself slowly walking back to your bed. Staring at the floor as he sat on your comforter. He decided he wouldn't press.

He liked your message.

He laid in your bed.

And he tried to get the sound of your shaky breaths out of his mind.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tags: @sweetpo1son @scorpiosugar @starmapz @toruswrld @your-mum3000 @meow-satoru @animeblr @utarts @roxyyyyy1xx @lilming36 @scandibabeuh @atanasiaaaa @chouzuko @voronii @transsfish @h3llf4iry @lucrea @straewberrysoda @s4m4nth4wrld @storiesbyparadise @pokiona @neiostrike @breenatalle @uwolivia @gothic-fluffycow @luvvmae @justbelljust @voidshoutsback @chaotic-ish @jamzywiththejam28 @definitely-not-leena @kirawyd @kuro-chi69 @smoments @lukabwrry @esmedelacroix @professionalreblogger @yoongluverz @stainednailpolishremover @nappingmoon @lauretsy @noelssprings @bytgefirewbook @koji-ibitsu @wafflefries786 @bearchermer @p1nkfl0wers @sugojosgf @deafeningherofishcash @yeehawbrothers @wil10wthetree @youcantseem3 @poopooindamouf @miakxn @esggs @makosworld @neeshsoodrippedout @momoewn @mooncleaver @avocadomochi @getoisinnocent @femmefatal

If you ever want to be added or taken off of the tag list, just let me know :] (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

[norrizzandpia]

Happy Birthday (LN4)

Summary: It’s his favorite person’s birthday

Warnings: literally none just language

Note: my bday being a few days ago has nothing to do with this!!!!!!!! I know it’s short but I got a late start to this tn 😭😭 hopefully I can get some much needed writing time tomorrow

landonorris happy birthday to my person! I told myself I would just say all of this to your face but on second thought I want the world to know just how much I care about you. To be honest, when we first met, I never thought we would be here; in love and prepared to spend the rest of our lives together. I just didn’t think you would like me that way. However, the day you said yes to going on a date with me will forever be one of the greatest days of my life. That was the day my life truly started because, as cliche as it is, you are my life. I’ve never cared or loved someone as hard as I do you and I’m eternally honored to be the person you come home to at the end of the day. Being your boyfriend over these past few years has taught me a few things. The first thing being that someone’s laugh actually can become your favorite sound. Always thought that was an over exaggeration but hearing you laugh and knowing I was the one to make you laugh is completely different from the happiness I feel when I win a race. The feeling’s better because you’re better. The second thing being that loving someone doesn’t have to be hard. I feel like people think love is a hard thing but with you it’s not. From the start, loving you has been easy because you understand me and you love me wholly for who I am. There has never been a time where I had to force myself to love you or work to strengthen the love I harbor for you, and there will never be a time that will happen. Loving you is like watching the sunrise. It’s peaceful and quiet, beautiful to look at and experience, and, most of all, it’s relieving because you know there’s going to be the hardships of the day, but that’s ok because you can always come back to the memory of waking up, starting your day, with such a gorgeous view. I don’t have to say that I think you’re the most stunning person to grace this Earth, you already know. But, if somehow you don’t, I’ll repeat it to you for the rest of our lives. Lastly, sorry I know this is long, the third thing you have taught me is to enjoy life. People seem to think that mentality came from my own mind, but, no, it didn’t. It came from you who said it to me one night when I had a panic attack over the stress of racing and performing well. You sat with me in our bed, held me as I freaked out, comforted me, and told me that I had forgotten to enjoy life. In the moment, you had related that statement to me enjoying the privilege of being able to do what I love as a profession especially when what I want to do is so hard to get in to. Although, after thinking on that statement, I realize that enjoying life has nothing to do with racing and everything to do with you. Enjoying life is cherishing the moments where I get to wake up to you, cherishing the times when you tell me you love me, cherishing the ability to love you, cherishing the calls I get in the middle of the night because you don’t care what time it is where I am, all you want do to is tell me the gossip you heard that day, cherishing the fact that I’m the person you want to spill those secrets to, cherishing the knowledge that I’m the person you trust enough to confide in, and cherishing you. Anyways, I should stop now because you’re actually calling my phone as I write this. Probably going to tell me something about your high school arch nemesis coming back into your life to ask for F1 tickets. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised and tell you she’s out of her mind if she thinks she’s coming anywhere near a race circuit dressed in our colors. Happy birthday, baby.

Loved always by me,

Your biggest fan 🧡

Comments:

mclarensgirlyy SO BASICALLY ILL JUST GO THROW MYSELF OFF A CLIFF THEN

f1fan22 i will never recover.

ynnn LANDO THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING I HAVE EVER READ I AM FUCKING CRYING I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH LAN THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

- landonorris I love you more baby

- mclarenfan4 STOP THIS MADNESS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

ln4andop81 he is so gone for her like I just genuinely don’t even think winning is top priority for him anymore it’s her

- landonorris ofc I’m literally so in love with her she’s my end all, be all

- ynnn so I’ve passed away.

[sainzzsturns]

could you write hector looking after drunk reader

Drunkie

H. Fort x reader

category: fluff

warnings: drinking, lowercase intended, sorry in advance for any grammar errors english isn’t my first language.

summary: where reader has a little too much to drink.

after a event with the barca team, everyone, including both you and héctor, made your way to the after party.

when there, you two split up, all the players sitting at the lounge while you and the rest of the wags made your way to the dance floor by the bar.

both you and dayane were swaying your hips with great ability, being because of your brazilian genes.

héctor stole a few glances here and there, but he started really looking at you when other men around the bar started looking at your body sway.

he knew you weren’t really the person to want too much attention on yourself, so he figured you mustn’t be sober to do that.

be bid his goodnights to his friends around him and made his way to you.

he bumped into sarah on the way and eyes slightly widened when she mentioned all the drinks you had taken.

“hey cariño, how about we go home, aren’t you tired already?” he said to you.

“no, c’mon come dance with me.” you said locking your arms around his neck, looking up at him.

he got lost in you for a second, the way your eyes glimmered and the way your body touched his made him go crazy.

“no, you’re too drunk, let’s go.” he said picking you up bridal style.

he made his way out of the venue and to the parking lot where his car was. (let’s just pretend he can drive!)

“no let me go, my boyfriend, héctor, is in there, he’s going to take me home.” you blabbered.

“baby it’s literally me.” he answered.

“oh hi handsome! you look so good héc! i’m so lucky.”

“okay that’s enough.” he opened the passenger for you and set you inside, making sure you were comfortable.

when you got home he took you to your shared bedroom, grabbing your favorite pair of pjs and started undressing you to get your more comfortable clothes on.

“oh héctor stop!” you said blushing.

“i’m just putting your pjs on, stop being dirty minded.”

he dressed you and laid you on the bed, kissing your forehead, making his way to the kitchen to grab some medicine and water for when you woke up.

when he went back up the stairs to your bedroom he saw you already passed out on the bed.

he got comfortable and laid down beside you also.

when he woke up he saw you sitting down on the bed, drinking the water he had set for you before bed.

“does someone feel hungover?” he said, voice deep from sleep.

he made his way to you putting his hands around your shoulders from behind.

“oh my god you can’t even believe my headache right now.” you answered, leaning into his touch.

“well at least you had fun last night!” he talked again.

you hum in annoyance before laying back down on the bed, héctor kissed your head stroking your hair trying to make you feel better.

“thank you for taking care of me.” you whispered.

“no problem, cariño, i’ll always be here for ya’”

“i hope i wasn’t too embarrassing yesterday.”

“don’t worry, i would never let you embarrass yourself!” he answered.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

I keep thinking about Yandere husband fucking his cute,sexy wife while calling her his little slut/whore

A/N: So I didn't know if you were talking about an old oc or not, so I just made up a name for the husband. Also, happy holidays, and sorry this came out so late. I got caught up in holiday celebrations and sleep.

TW: Dubcon, general smut, breeding/impregnation kink, teasing

Your husband, Leroy Angelou, had kidnapped you almost a year ago. He kept you in his mansion, left hickeys to mark you, and forcibly spoiled you beyond comprehension. Of course said spoiling came with the price of having a tracker implanted into your wrist so you can't escape. But that didn't bother you much since Leroy made sure you never left the mansion's grounds. Not even to pick up mail. Now it's your wedding day and you've already arrived at your honeymoon spot in Colombia.

"Surprise, babe! I know you've always wanted to visit Colombia, so I picked out Playa Blanca so you can enjoy the beach and visit Cartagena!" Leroy exclaims, removing his hands from your eyes.

"Oh, thank you," You softly say, looking at the beef empanadas, pink alcoholic drinks, and chocolates.

"What? What is it? Do you not like the color of the rose petals on the bed?" Leroy asks frantically, holding your shoulders. "Do you not like the meat choice for the empanadas? I can get some chicken ones if you want."

"No, it's not that. It's..." You murmur looking at your wedding ring.

"Don't tell me you're mad that I married you? We said I do on the altar, and that's all. Aside from a couple of tax changes, it'll be no different than dating me," Leroy reassures, picking you up princess style. "We'll have a great honeymoon and marriage. I promise."

"Since we're married, I want changes. I want the tracker out of my arm, the ability to leave the mansion, and access my bank account again," You say, sitting on the bed.

Leroy chuckles and kisses your forehead. The feeling of absolute creepiness travels throughout your body.

"Of course, my love. I'll do everything you ask and more, on one condition. We consummate the marriage today," Leroy replies, pulling out pink lingerie with frills.

Your freedom for a few minutes of possible pain and more pleasure. You couldn't resist the deal he made. It was so easy to fulfill. But you never wanted this to be your first choice of gaining freedom again.

"Ok, but we'll do it at night. Eleven 'o'clock sharp," You recommend, caressing Leroy's face.

His face moves to your shoulders and he begins to kiss your neck. You push him away, making him sigh.

"I'll be ordering food for us in the lobby," Leroy says, getting off the bed and leaving the room.

When the door shuts, you wait fifteen minutes then make your escape. You run out of the room and go to the elevator. You press the second-floor button so you can run to the beach. When the elevator opens, you rush in not noticing your husband holding a bag of food.

"Sweetie, what are you doing out of the room?" Leroy asks, a hand snaking around your waist.

"I wanted to visit the beach," You reply, hoping Leroy doesn't notice your lie.

"Bullshit. I know when you lie," Leroy growls, spanking your ass.

"Sorry, sir," You squeak, surprising your husband.

"Sir, huh? You're so cute when you try to deny how you feel. Tell you what, I'll give you all the freedom if you take a good fucking from me."

Leroy's hand goes underneath your wedding dress and into your panties to tease your pussy. You can't bare his touch anymore and give in.

"Fine! I'll be your slutty little whore for tonight, just please make me cum!" You moan, holding Leroy's hand in place.

"Good girl," Leroy whispers, taking his hand out your panties as your floor comes up.

The two of you hurry into the hotel room, making sure to flip the little sign to do not disturb. Leroy unzips your dress and you take your panties off.

"Back on the bed, I wanna see all of you," Leroy commands, kissing your neck.

You whimper as his hands play with your clit as he positions you on the bed. He sticks his fingers in you, and you're practically riding them.

"Aw, I know my little slut was ready for me," Leroy coos, adding in more digits. "You want something bigger?"

"Please," You beg, your legs spread open.

"Aw, too bad. You'll have to wait until I'm done to get it," Leroy teases, slowing down the speed of his fingers.

"Please, please, please!" You beg, grabbing his hand.

"There you go," Leroy coos, speeding up his pace and finishing your foreplay. "Now you get your reward."

Leroy unbuckles his pants and pulls his member out of his underwear.

"Come and get it," Leroy says, letting you straddle him.

You slowly slide down on his dick as Leroy rubs your back to comfort you.

"Sh, you've almost got it. Just a slide down a bit-ah! more," Leroy encourages, kissing your neck. "There you go. You've got it."

You slowly start to ride Leroy, and your husband can't help but moan.

"I'm so glad you let yourself be a little slut for me. I can't wait to fuck you so good and have a family with you," Leroy rambles, thrusting his hips into you.

Leroy pushes you onto your back and taps your thigh for you to wrap your legs around his waist harder. He thrusts into your pussy like an animal in heat and doesn't care that his pants and underwear are down to his ankles. The sound of skin slapping together makes your mind go wild, and you beg for more.

"Leroy, fuck, I-" You moan, letting him make a hickey on your neck. "I love you!"

At those three simple words, Leroy cums inside you and collapses onto your chest. He pants as he kisses your collarbone. Shortly after that, you cum too and your body relaxes. You and your husband enjoy the feeling of each other's sweaty bodies.

"Come on, let's eat our dinner. I got us your favorite dessert too," Leroy says, pulling out of you and grabbing the bag of food. "Say ah, darling!"

"Ah!" You exclaim, gladly being fed by your husband.

"Good girl!" Leroy replies, kissing your cheek and gently rubbing your stomach.

[kkoffin]

I’m never getting over how you say “a woman is an adult human female” (or they ask you to define female) and they say “WOW SO A WOMAN IS NOTHING MORE THAN A WOMB TO YOU”

Did you miss the “human” part? Yes, female, as a term, means the sex in any species which has a large, immovable gamete. Do i think my dog is the same thing as a woman because they have the same sex? They’re both female? No. Because of the “human” part.

Both men and women are human people. the difference, the reason for this split in category, is sex. Yes, the difference between a man and a woman is reproductive organs. Not their feelings, or attachment to being feminine, or whether or not they’ve got a dress on. The reason for this particular categorical split is which reproductive organs they’ve got.

Now what would happen if we in this hypothetical, instead of splitting by sex, we split by hair colour. Now we’ve got brown hair people and black hair pe- WOAH ARE WE DEFINING THEM BY THE COLOUR OF THEIR HAIR!? THATS BIOESSENTIALISM (apparently. no it’s not, that’s not what the word means, but that’s a topic for another day.) no. we just divided them by hair colour, and now we are labelling the categories that arise. they are still humans. “adult human brunette” if you will.

The “human” part includes life, or anything typical to being human. Thoughts, feelings, interests, self expression, relationships, literally just about everything to… being a person. And here’s the fun part! That can be different for every single woman! A woman can be any human, and do anything! Only other necessary parts are being female and being adult. The “female” part will mean you are a victim of misogyny and patriarchy, and you’ll likely be raised a little differently. Radfems want women to be free from misogyny and patriarchy, so we band together, against the oppressor, men, to make change.

Being female affects women in a very impactful way. Yes, the reproductive organs. Through periods, and pregnancy, hormones and simply having a vagina. Men like having access to a vagina, and they, for a lot of history, have been provided social advantages, though having more muscle mass, not getting pregnant, not having periods. They’ve long considered women, and their vaginas, to be their property. Women, again, because of men’s social advantages, were barred from much of society. Voting, dominion, rights, ability to be employed and have financial freedom. Men like having access to a vagina so much that women were sold to a husband, and had no freedom in the matter at all.

Today, women have been given many rights, but men still really like having access to a vagina, so they rape and sexually assault women (also misogyny is still deep in our society; in our media, our subconscious, etc). This is a Bad Thing, so women want to be free from it. Thus, we want spaces where we are vulnerable to be just for women. Not men that are feminine, or men that feel they are women, but women as in the sex-based group that’s been the victim to fgm and pregnancy and majority of rape, sex trafficking, sexual assault and harassment, etc this whole time.

Now! I can hear you! “but men get raped too!” You are so right! They are also 99% of offenders of rape. So sorry, but yes, the feminists, the women protecting women, striving for women’s liberation from patriarchy, still don’t want men in these spaces. Also being raped doesn’t make them a woman. Nothing makes a man a woman. (and before you bring up intersex people, I want you to know A) all intersex people are either male or female, a developmental disorder doesn’t take that anyway; B) every intersex person I’ve ever met fucking hates being used as an example to imply there are some people that are “less woman” or “less man”. )

Women were never and have never been oppressed because of their feelings or because they wear a dress - wearing the dress was a part of the oppression in fact. Women have always been in their disadvantaged group because of our sex. Because men like having access to a vagina, and we’ve been deemed weaker and inferior by men because of our organs.

There’s a reason why many women are offended if you call them “females” alone (see: alpha male podcasts) - it’s because it’s missing the “human” part, and it can feel degrading. It does include animals. “Female” either includes all females of all species and forms of life, or it’s an adjective. Woman are adult human females. Human.

@smokeweedeattherich

Anyways yeah, it’s rly not the terf-destroyed slay moment you think it is; it’s just you being kinda illiterate.

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck’s Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,678 words Warnings: Swearing Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you’re too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they’re too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much … so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #2: MUSHROOM FORAGING Forest — 1 Mushrooms — 29 Nostalgia — to taste

To make things clear: you had always expected Chilchuck to resent you for leaving him. Regardless of whatever he had felt for you at the time (and it hurts, even now, that you couldn’t be certain about those feelings), your husband had a strong fondness for clear terms and conditions, and as your marriage deteriorated you remember thinking how bad a sin it would be to provide none for your disappearance.

So that is exactly what you did.

You wanted him to resent you. Being resented meant you were a person, that you took up not just space but attention, and that you weren’t just a silent fixture in the home that Chilchuck drank and slept in. You wanted him to understand the frustration of reaching out to someone who wouldn’t reach back. So you left him. It was petty and unconstructive and cruel and –

And it affected him.

In your heart you had known that, and you had counted on it, fearing no repercussions because while Chilchuck was protective, he was never controlling. He would resent you for leaving, but he would not follow.

You just hadn’t considered that his ability to let you go was a punishment in and of itself.

But now?

Now, as you stand at the edge of the trees outside of Kahka Brud, your imagination spirals around the possibility that he hadn’t let you go, but simply let his resentment fester until you came crawling back, gullible and perfectly dressed for a one-way trip down a forest cliff. He had been an adventurer, after all. He would know how to handle bodies.

“There you are.”

Jumping underneath your skin, you turn to see Chilchuck just a few paces away.

“O-Oh. Hi.” He’s wearing the cowl Flertom had sent him, and as he waves at you, you pet your own cowl self-consciously and try not to think about how evenly matched the two of you must look. “You know, when I said we could talk, I was expecting it to be indoors.”

“I figured it’d be easier if we were doing something at the same time. Besides, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with me at your place or you at mine.”

“So you decided to bring me out to the middle of the woods with no witnesses?”

You don’t mean to sound so serious, but the way his eyes widen doesn’t help much at all.

He scoffs. “No witnesses? You don’t seriously think that I would …”

You lack the good sense to laugh it off, and a sliver of horror and offense slips through his expression.

“Look,” he exclaims, “I’m not gonna lie and say I was never mad at you, but I wouldn’t off you in the middle of the woods!”

You grimace, wanting to shrink inside yourself once he says it aloud. Of course. This is Chilchuck you’re talking about. This is the man with whom you had shared meals, sown fields and raised children. Even at his worst, he’d never laid a hand on you. Murder? Why would you even think –?

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m just – nervous, I guess,” you blurt, regret filling the space between your words. “I just don’t know what to expect from all of this.”

“Well, rest assured, you’ll come out alive and well,” Chilchuck replies sardonically.

“I’m sorry.”

He stares at you before taking a deep breath. “… It’s fine.” He exhales in a way that tells you it is not in fact fine, and you wring your hands shamefully as he scratches his head. “We can go somewhere with more people around.”

“No, I’m okay. Really.”

“You sure?”

You nod. “I’m sure,” you insist, inwardly cursing yourself for setting such a sour mood. You’re the one who agreed to this. Remain civil. “So what are we doing, anyway?”

Though he still seems a bit put off, Chilchuck holds out a wicker basket towards you. “Mushroom foraging,” he says in Half-Foot, village drawl creeping in along the syllables and peeling the ends off the words. 

You blink, then laugh.

“I haven’t done that since Puck moved out.”

“Me neither. But apparently this is a good place to do it, and it’s pretty early so not a lot of people are around.”

You take the basket from him, and the two of you wade deeper into the forest.

The dirt-wet smell of fallen leaves and the scurrying of hidden critters dig up memories from an old life. Your home village was surrounded by a forest much like this one, and you remember yourself, small and tucked away in layers of wool, scrambling to pick the biggest, best-smelling mushrooms for your family’s dinner. Chilchuck, buried in his own warm clothes, would complain that you wanted to hog all the mushrooms, but after poor harvests he’d always sneak a few more from his basket into yours when you weren’t looking.

(It was a habit that he never completely shook, even after you discovered it – making sure you had enough, even if it meant having less for himself, and pretending that he didn’t mind either way.)

After what feels like an eternity walking in silence, you reach a small dip in the forest floor. A large tree had fallen across it, and jutting out from the softening wood are the bread-brown shelves of your first fungi.

“Here,” Chilchuck finally speaks again, and he hands you a small knife. “Forgot to give you this.”

The unspoken Do you feel safer now? lingers between the two of you like a bad taste. You accept the knife with doleful thanks and start cutting into the base of the mushroom alongside him.

It’s quiet again, and you tolerate it until you can’t.

“You’re still upset.”

“I said it’s fine. Not like I don’t deserve it, anyway.”

Irritation prickles your tongue on instinct but dies just as quickly. “No,” you say, dropping a chunk of mushroom into your basket and facing him fully. “I’m not going to accept that.” Like I had so many times before. “I assumed something terrible about you, so please just tell me how you feel about it.”

Chilchuck scowls and clicks his tongue. “I –” he cuts himself off and sighs. His eyes close, expression loosening, and when he opens them again, it’s to look at the ground. “I’m still not too good at that,” he murmurs.

“Just be honest. That’s all I’m asking.”

His eyebrows twitch. You wait.

“… If you say so.” He busies himself with a ham-of-the-forest, avoiding your gaze. His voice peters out to a tone that only a half-foot can decipher. “Yeah, I’m still upset. I’ve never hit you or talked or even thought about hurting you physically. Ever. So honestly, I hate knowing that you don’t feel safe around me anymore.”

Something tells you that another apology is unwanted, so you swallow it down. “That’s fair,” you say, carefully weighing your words. “I … I really don’t think you’d put me in danger. But like I said earlier, it’s just that I don’t know what to expect, so my mind keeps making up worst-case scenarios. We haven’t spoken in so long and I”—you hesitate—“I didn’t know if you were still angry with me for … for leaving you.”

“I’m not. Not anymore.” He makes eye contact with you, and your heart grows heavy at the defeat in his shoulders. “But whenever I sit still long enough to think about it, I still get upset at myself. I was a shit husband.”

“So why now?”

“Huh?”

You clarify. “Why reach out now all of a sudden?”

“Because if I don’t, I never will.” Chilchuck chews his lower lip. He reaches out to cut another mushroom but then pauses, almost sounding shy as he mumbles, “And if it’s one thing I learned from my last dungeon job, it’s that you shouldn’t push away the people you care about.”

Your eyes widen.

“S-So that’s how I feel. Your turn.”

You open your mouth, close it, then open it again like a befuddled clam. You do this a few times before Chilchuck’s eyebrow twitches.

“Don’t go twisting my ears,” he mutters, though the quip is blunted by the red in his cheeks.

“Sorry, it’s just – this is the most open you’ve been with me since you started adventuring,” you say, hand over your mouth.

“It weirds you out, huh.”

“No! Well, a little bit. But not in a bad way.” Your voice quiets, embarrassed. “It’s nice.”

“Oh.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment. Then, as if jolted by lightning, you resume your mushroom harvesting with renewed gusto. Chilchuck cuts one last decent shelf of fungi from the tree, and then the both of you climb out of the dip and towards the faint sound of a bubbling creek.

By this time, your face has finally cooled down, allowing another question marinating in your mind to make its way into the light. “Are you still living in the same house?” you ask, examining tree roots as you pass by them.

“No. I rented it out to Lilituck and her family. I’m in a smaller place closer to the Island.”

“Lilituck moved to Khaka Brud? I didn’t know.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t really been in the loop for a while.”

“I guess not.” You wrinkle your nose. Everyone back home noses into each other’s business as a matter of principle, and other than the sparse letters you’re obliged to exchange with your mother, you haven’t involved yourself for some time. You just know your and Chilchuck’s separation circulated like wildfire when the village first got wind of it. “Do you talk to them a lot?”

“Not really. Maybe every once in a while – oi.” He suddenly ushers you around a large rock, and though his hand does not touch your back, you can nearly feel the print of it hovering over your cloak. “Watch your step.”

“I am,” you protest, only half-fibbing.

“Sure.” He withdraws. You sense a hesitation that he quickly tucks away into his pocket. “Anyway, the last time I talked to them was last winter about fixing something at the house. That’s it.”

There’s a stout pair of mushrooms up a slope a few feet away. You point them out, and Chilchuck climbs up after you, remarking something about watching out for tripping hazards while you roll your eyes at his preoccupation. It’s not entirely unjustified, as the fallen leaves are thick and hide tangles of broken branches, but you stay upright and reach your destination without incident.

“These are healer’s caps.”

Chilchuck hums in agreement. You squat down to feel the round tops. They’re soft, almost leathery, and smell sweet. As your fingers trail down to grasp the stem of one of the mushrooms, Chilchuck crouches down as well.

“What?” you ask.

There are tones that waver in his throat before he clears it. Chilchuck breathes in slowly, and the relaxation that had been slowly building up over the past half-hour comes to a standstill.

It is hardly surprising when he asks, “When did you know you were going to leave?”

You pick the mushroom. “… It’s hard to say.”

“Humor me.”

The healer’s cap rolls over in your hands. Gnawing the inside of your cheek, you put the mushroom into your basket, wiping the dirt from your fingertips.

“I guess I started thinking about it after we had that argument about when you’d stop going into the dungeons. I don’t know if you remember it.” The silence tells you that he does. “You said it wasn’t my job to complain about something I didn’t know anything about. And I said I didn’t know anything about it because you never talked about your work. And then a few days later, you brought me to have dinner with your party.”

“Right,” Chilchuck mumbles. “You were in a bad mood that night on the way home.”

“I was.”

“Why?”

“I guess partly because I was jealous.”

He lets out a noise of disbelief. “Of who? I never –”

“Not like that, Chilchuck.” Setting your basket on the ground beside you, you rest your chin in your hand and look over to see him staring at you, perplexed. “I sat with you and your work friends, and you were all relaxed and laughing about stories I had never heard from you.” A laugh puffs out from between your teeth, bitter from years past now that it’s all dug up. “And I realized that I really didn’t know anything about your life out there without me, and that it was a lot bigger than your life with me.”

That’s the selfish truth of it, isn’t it? You had never wanted a glamorous life. A small life was all you had ever needed; caring for a home and raising three kids were both things you had loved. But kids grow up and a house starts feeling less like a home when you’re the only one there for days on end, and as you trailed behind your husband that night, it had dawned on you that your small life had shrunk to something you could barely recognize.

Mere existence, like an afterthought.

When Chilchuck responds, it’s in a whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. We never got around to talking about things like that.”

“Because I was a coward.” He sounds pained. “I made you feel alone.”

Yes, you think, you came home but you always left half your dinner on your plate and nothing in your mug and answered with one or two sentences and fell asleep before we could say goodnight to each other. And it felt like that was everything you could give, and I still felt alone.

You lift your shoulders in some semblance of a shrug.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Picking the second healer’s cap, you stand up and offer it to him, inches from his chest. You smile wryly. “I can tell.”

Quietly, Chilchuck takes the mushroom. His eyes are glossy and you look away before the sight begins to hurt too much.

You reach the creek not long after that, following it for a bit, absorbing the cold, trickling sound in between your breathing and heartbeats before moving on. And although you find it difficult at first, conversation eventually trickles back between the two of you, turning to the girls, work, spices to use with the harvest. Perhaps all of it distracts you; before you know it, the sun has climbed in the sky and it’s time to start heading back.

Once you and Chilchuck reach the edge of the forest, you set your baskets down and sort through everything. There ends up being quite a bit less than you are used to. Chilchuck insists on a seventy-thirty split, what with there being two people in your household compared to his one, but your stubbornness is able to whittle it down to sixty-forty. Carrying out the compromise is another challenge, however.

“I saw that,” you say sharply as his sneaky fingers attempt to put another mushroom into your basket. “That’s yours.”

“It’s Fler’s favorite.”

“No, it’s not. Put it back.”

“I don’t –”

“‘I don’t want it’ – that’s what you always say,” you exclaim, catching it before it lands onto your pile. Tossing it at his face does nothing as his reflexes snatch it up even quicker than yours had. “There. You can hardly have a full meal with your share as it is.”

“So what? If that happens, I guess I’ll just have to go and steal whatever you’re making,” he retorts.

Whether it’s for his sake or yours, you ignore the small tensing of his shoulders at the declaration, merely hiking your skirt up to walk away with a haughty scoff.

“Good luck with that!”

(Perhaps you allow yourself to entertain the possibility. Just a little bit.)

The sunlight warms your face as you enter the open field once again. Chilchuck joins you soon enough, and though he hides it within his cowl, you can hear him grin.

—

prev

[princessbrunette]

rafe definitely would be the type to get his fwb pregnant, ghost her for a while, and then come back with his stupid shaved head and his hands in his pockets like ‘when’s the next appointment’. he has to take a little panic time to come around to the idea and remember that it takes two to make said child, and then the fear of being like his dad and neglecting his firstborn kicks in and he pops back up ready to sort shit out and attempt to be there to the best of his ability in his own way cause it’s still rafe and he’s not perfect ykwim. definitely could heal him though 🙏. Waddle around in those flowly little dresses cause they’re all that fit in the late stages but cause of the belly it makes them shorter than they already were and he’s a man starved.

GODDDDD this makes me go crazy😀

you’re by no means a pogue but your place is still just small enough to make rafe turn his nose up at it if you remember correctly, proving his disapproval of it when he shows up after a few months, a few shades tanner, buffer, with a buzzed head. he looked older, more mature— but the way he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring unabashedly at the bump that had only just broken into vision, it was clear he was the same old rafe.

“so uh, y’know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” he wanders, slowly pacing your kitchen whilst you brew him a coffee.

“no, rafe. i’m keeping it as a surprise.” your voice is quiet, untrusting. it makes him resist a sigh, scratching at his cheek with a look of discomfort. he just wants his girl back. he wants his family.

“right, right.” he nods, watching you for a moment. he supposes its true what they say about ‘pregnancy glow’ because you look fucking stunning. “baby, i’m really sorry.” he drawls and you flinch a little at the nickname. it’s been a while since you heard that. you turn to him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“i freaked. i’m— i’m a fuckin’ coward and if you hate me, cool— alright i get it. but whether you like it or not, that’s my baby in there. and, and i’m gonna be apart of it’s life. just… let me take you out of here. we’ll start again. tanny hill’s all mine now, can set up a nice little baby room, paint it any colour you want, n’you can stay there too, with me—” he pauses, watching your unsure expression, not quite knowing how you feel about sharing the bed with rafe cameron once more. “…or sarah’s old room. up to you.” he adds reluctantly but gives you the option anyway. he does seem to really want this, and whilst you were mad he just up and left, leaving you to deal with the start of your pregnancy alone you could never resist him. you didn’t want your baby to grow up without a dad, not one bit.

“what’s wrong with my place?” you frown at your shabby little apartment your parents had set you up with.

“this place… tanny hill.” he holds his hands out mimicking a tipping scale, a cheeky smile growing on his face, voice still being gentle with you. that was the rafe you liked.

with his baby inside you, and the two of you spending all that time together, you didn’t stand a chance. you’d wondered how the two of you had ever commit to just being friends with benefits when it’s clear you had great deals of love for one another. he constantly doted on you, spoiling you and buying you whatever, if anything annoyed him he’d remove himself from the situation instead of getting mad like he used to, didn’t let you even walk anywhere alone despite telling rafe it was fine, jumping up to guide you with an arm around your waist once you got more swollen. he was treating you like you were made of glass, even showing reluctance to fucking you when you’d begged him, telling him how the pregnancy hormones were driving you mad and you missed his dick, the blue eyed man furrowing his brows in concern asking whether this could hurt the baby.

once he was passed the concern though, rafe couldn’t help sate his arousal almost every time you’d walk around in stretched out little nighties, swollen tits practically falling out of the top. he’d still be real gentle, don’t get it twisted— opting to grind his cock into you instead of thrusting like a madman remanent of your past with him. he’d stroke your clit with his thumb, your legs spread with his cock burrowed inside you, panting. “its true what they say, pregnant pussy is wetter. didn’t think you could get any better, baby.” he groans, your walls clamping down around him, crying out at his vulgarity.

“get used to this life, sweetheart, ‘cos i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to stop fucking babies into you.”

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

snow ball

Billy Hargrove x sister!reader

summary: Billy tries, to the best of his ability, to cheer up his sister on the night of the Hawkins Middle School’s annual Snow Ball.

warning(s): negative self talk, mention of parental neglect

a/n: sorry it’s so long i just love platonic billy hargrove lol.

Of all the things Billy had imagined himself doing on a Friday night, driving his sisters to some stupid middle school dance was nowhere on that list.

He leant against the front door, already dressed in his leather jacket and carpenter boots as he fidgeted with an unlit cigarette he’d been holding for what seemed like goddamned years at that point. He knew chicks tended to take their time in getting ready for these kinds of things—Hell, even he might spare a few extra minutes making sure he looked good for a party—but this was getting ridiculous.

After another long stretch of time spent listening to the ticking of the wall clock and slowly losing what remained of his patience, Billy had finally had enough. It was bad enough that Neil had personally appointed him as his sisters’ chauffeur for the evening—he wouldn’t wait for them all goddamned night.

“Y/N!” He called, knocking at the closed door of the hall bathroom. Max and Susan were busy in the master, leaving Y/N to get ready on her own. “You better be out here in the next minute or I’m leaving without you, you got that?”

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” she replied.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. “About fucking time.”

Y/N finished fluffing up her hair in the mirror, nodding at her reflection before opening the bathroom door. She was faced with the flat expression of her big brother, who just barely regarded her as she sauntered into the hallway.

“How do I look?” She asked expectantly, a hopeful smile plastered on her young face. Billy snorted to himself.

“Like a geek.”

And though he would never admit it, he almost regretted his words as his sister’s lips pulled into a frown.

“You got a jacket?” He asked, his cigarette now carefully balanced between his lips. He was itching to light it, and cursed Susan for whatever stupid rules she’d come up with about smoking in the house. She claimed she could smell it on her curtains.

Y/N kicked her feet with a shrug, purposely avoiding his eyes as her cheeks flushed. Suddenly she felt incredibly overdressed for the occasion. “We’re gonna be inside.”

“It’s December in goddamned Indiana. Get a jacket.”

Y/N huffed, running off towards her bedroom. Meanwhile, Max finally finished up with her mother and came out of their parents’ bedroom with a blank look on her face, Susan trailing behind her. Her typically unruly red of hair was straightened out and braided at the front, and to the untrained eye she came across as a proper young woman.

Yeah, right.

“Doesn’t she look lovely, Billy?” Susan cooed, positively beaming, and Max gave him a pointed look that doubled as a warning.

“Precious,” Billy deadpanned, and Max glared as her mother giggled, clearly not clued in on her step-brother’s most obvious sarcasm. Y/N returned wearing one of Max’s old hand me down coats, and before they knew it Susan was rushing the girls to force exaggerated smiles as she snapped some photos with her polaroid. Billy hung back out of frame.

Billy almost sighed with relief as Susan wrapped up and his sisters joined him in the entryway, but before the three could slip out the front door, she caught Max by the shoulders.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” she said with a smile.

“Mom—”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I won’t get sappy. I just . . . I want you to have so much fun tonight, okay? Both of you.” She spared Y/N a glance, and Y/N offered her step-mother a tight-lipped smile despite the pain in her chest.

For as long as she could remember, Y/N had wanted a mother more than anything else. She’d been a toddler by the time her and Billy’s mom had left, and everyday after that she felt like a piece of her was missing. She wished for her on every birthday candle and every Christmas night; she spoke to every God she knew, praying that she would one day return with open arms, ready to whisk her and her brother away from Neil and his iron fist.

After years and years of painful disappointment, Y/N finally learned that some dreams were better off forgotten.

“Hurry up unless you wanna be late,” Billy called over his shoulder as he strolled out door, and Susan waved as the Hargrove-Mayfield siblings made their way toward Billy’s Camaro.

Y/N scoffed. Max wasn’t even wearing a jacket.

The ride to the middle school was silent, save for Billy’s music blasting from the stereo. Y/N spent it fidgeting with her hands in her lap, looking down at her nails that Max had painted the night before. She’d been so excited for this only hours ago, and now all she felt was unloved and unwanted, haunted by the hole in her heart that her mother had carved all those years ago.

Max was out of the car as soon as Billy pulled into a parking spot, anxious to see Lucas and wanting to avoid whatever crude comments Billy was planning to make before she stepped out. “Out by nine!” Billy yelled after her, and Max didn’t falter in her stride as she flipped him the bird and kept walking.

“Little shit,” Billy mumbled.

Y/N was a lot less eager to get inside, now unsure whether she even wanted to go at all. She felt stupid in her best dress shoes and ironed skirt, the glittery shadow she’d applied to her eyelids only minutes earlier now heavy on her skin. No matter how much she dressed up she was still the same child her mother decided she was better off without.

“You getting out or what?” Billy drawled, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he watched her through the rearview mirror. Y/N sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“No, I think . . . let’s just go back.” Billy pulled a face, turning in his seat to meet her eyes.

“The Hell do you mean? You’ve been blabbing about going to this shitty dance for weeks, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well. I changed my mind,” Y/N mumbled, and Billy scoffed, turning back to stare out at the kids crowding the school’s entrance. Kids with their mothers wishing them well and fathers watching proudly as their children prepared for what Billy imagined would be the absolute lamest excuse of a ball that the world would ever see.

He took another greedy drag, running his hands through his hair. “Is it ‘cause I called you a geek?”

“No.”

“‘Cause if it is you oughtta stop being such a baby.”

“I said it wasn’t!” Y/N snapped. She paused, expecting her brother to go off on some power trip about her attitude, but Billy didn’t even twitch in the driver’s seat as he nursed his Marlboro Red. She sighed. “Let’s just go, okay? Please.”

But he didn’t. In fact, Billy made a point of making himself comfortable, carrying on smoking without a care in the world.

“Billy?” He ignored her, taking another long drag followed by another exhale, and repeating the pattern. “Billy!”

“Shut up,” He spat, and she begrudgingly resumed waiting in silence as her brother smoked. It took several minutes before he got to the end of the cig, and Y/N watched as he stepped out of the Camaro, slamming the door behind him and crushing the bud beneath his heel.

“Get out,” he said simply. Y/N only sat, frozen in her confusion. “What, are you deaf? I said get out.”

“What are you doing?”

“Goddamn it, Y/N, get out of the car!”

She sighed, obeying her brother with an aggravated look on her face. Billy didn’t wait for her as he started on his walk across the parking lot. He only swivelled on his heels when he realized that she wasn’t following him, and was in fact still planted next to the Camaro with furrowed brows. Billy made a big show of rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ, do I need to hold your goddamned hand or what? Get a move on, shithead.”

“Wha—Billy!” He continued to walk, avoiding her as she yelled after him. “Ugh!” Y/N groaned, relenting as she speed-walked behind him in attempts not to draw too much attention to herself. Passerbyers were already starting to give her strange looks when she yelled for him, and the last thing she wanted right now were people's eyes on her.

“Billy what are you doing? I already told you I don’t wanna go in!” Y/N started as soon as she was close enough, though not fully caught up to him. Her brother’s legs were much longer than hers, which made one of his strides maybe three of hers. “Will you just stop? I said I w—”

“You look cute, alright?”

His words threw Y/N for a loop. She paused mid-step, considering whether that really just came out of her brother’s mouth or if she’d only hallucinated it. The honk of a car trying get past her was what wound up pulling Y/N from her trance, and Billy groaned as he grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her up onto the sidewalk next to him.

“Christ, Y/N. Can you use your fucking head for a second?”

“What did you just say?” Y/N asked softly, ignoring his crude comment and searching his eyes for something Billy couldn’t place. He shoved his hands in his pockets, deeply uncomfortable in his current position.

“You heard me,” He said after a moment, and Y/N was surprised that he even acknowledged what he’d said. Billy Hargrove wasn’t one to give compliments—especially not to his shitty little sister. “‘M not gonna say it again.”

“Did you mean it?”

“If I knew you were gonna harp on it so much I wouldn’t’ve said shit, alright?” He scratched awkwardly at his neck, casually avoiding his sister’s large eyes as she stared at him like he was someone she’d never met before. “Look, Y/N. I waited for you to get ready for this thing for a goddamned hour. If you’re telling me I did that shit just to take you right back home I’m gonna be pissed.”

“I . . . I don’t know if I should—”

“I do,” Billy said, pointing at the opened doors of her school. “Go. But I’d better see your ass on the curb by nine, you got that?”

Y/N felt herself smiling, even as Billy fixed her with yet another one of his bored stares. You look cute. She couldn’t shake the words from her head, nor the sincerity with which he'd said them.

“Got it.” Billy only nodded before starting on his way back to the Camaro, car keys in hand. “Hey, Billy?” She called after him just as he crossed the street, and he fixed her with a glare.

“What is it now?”

“Thank you,” Y/N said sweetly. Billy scoffed, averting his gaze and mumbling a whatever under his breath.

・❥・

Y/N looked around in wonder at the gymnasium, taking in the many decorations strung around what served as the ‘dance floor’ and navigating her way through groups of her dancing peers.

She found the Party near the snack table (figures) and blushed as the boys stood slack-jawed and wide eyed as she approached them.

“Hey guys,” She greeted. Max rolled her eyes at the boys’ reaction, smacking Dustin upside the head before the kid started to drool.

"Ow!" Max ignored him, shooting a smile Y/N's way.

“Hey, Y/N.” Y/N shoved in next to her step-sister at the snack table, grabbing herself a solo cup and filling it up with punch. “What took you so long? Was Billy being an asshole again?”

Yeah, she thought, he was. He was being an asshole just like he always was, but even more than that, he was being her big brother. The same big brother who beat up her bullies, and who bandaged her wounds, and who wouldn’t let her miss out on something he knew she’d been excited for.

He was an asshole, and he cared about her. That much he could never deny.

“Something like that,” Y/N responded, and Max gave her a confused look as she smiled.

[roanofarcc]

THE OLD FASHIONED WAY

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader

summary. You had always regarded your ability to see ghosts as odd, until you met Sam and her eclectic group of ghosts.  

warnings. kind of/kind of not happy ending, ig? sad trevor :( angsty and a little flirty. reader gets stood up.

word count. 3.8K || masterlist

a/n. alive!reader HURTS but in the best way

trevor tag list. @marcos-scorpion , @youngdumbamericanteen

“I have one last, fun, interview question,” Sam said and you inwardly cringed. You had sat through so many job interviews that you knew a ‘fun’ question was normally anything but. Nevertheless, you smiled politely and nodded at her to continue asking. “What are your thoughts on ghosts?” 

You laughed, against your will. It was a reflexive response that you immediately regretted. “Sorry!” you rushed out. 

She didn’t seem put off by your laughing. “I know, it’s a ridiculous question. But the last guy that worked here…uh, this place may, potentially, be haunted. Not that I know, but there’s speculation. I just want to know how you feel about ghosts. Do you believe in them? Do you think it's all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?” That was probably one of the oddest interview questions you’d ever been asked, but it was better than explaining how your weaknesses were really strengths. It also felt pointed. 

You didn’t know Sam and she didn’t know you, but the question made it sound like she knew your weird talent. And for some reason, you didn’t feel the embarrassment you normally did when someone brought up the concept of ghosts. There was something about Sam that compelled you to tell the truth, even against your better judgment. 

“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story-” you started, but were cut off.

“Samatha, when you are done, your assistance is needed in the television room. Someone believes it is his turn to watch another horrible film of space nonsense, but I distinctly recall it being my turn to watch those horrible women pick out whorish dresses for their weddings.” A woman appeared at the threshold of the entryway and the living room, dressed in a gown not from that century with her red locks pinned up in a curious updo. You were taken back, confused when your eyes fell on the man that stood beside her, dressed formally on top but lacking anything but socks and shoes on his bottom half. 

“First of all, Star Wars is not ‘space nonsense’ it's one of the biggest movies, like, ever,” the man started. “And second of all, you just got to watch your pick two days ago.” 

Sam cleared her throat, ignoring the two with a tight-lipped smile. You looked between the two, which seemed to confuse them. “I’m so sorry, will you excuse me for one second? I’ve got to take care of something really fast.” 

“Yeah, of course. Take your time. I don’t mess around when it comes to Star Wars either,” you said. 

The two people overlapped in with a ‘what?’ and an ‘excuse me?’ Sam stared at you wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape as she looked between the two figures behind her and you. “Hold on, can you see them?” 

It took a moment for you to understand why that was odd, which was too long if you were being honest. Obviously, no one was walking around in a gown like that or pantsless for no reason. You weren’t looking at cooky guests, but rather ghosts. Did nowhere not have any spirits lingering? It seemed like every job you worked or applied to had ghosts haunting the building. Though, you supposed out of all of the places, it did make the most sense for the old mansion to be haunted. 

But Sam wasn’t a ghost, but she seemed to be able to at least hear the ones in the threshold. “Can you see them?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” 

“Me too.” You have been able to see ghosts since you were little. As a child, most of your friends were the collection of ghosts that inhabited your childhood home. You thought you’d eventually outgrown it, but you never did. Now, nearly everywhere you ventured, you encountered dead people. It was interesting, a little obnoxious at times, and often made you feel like a freak of nature. But the woman in front of you could see them too; that was a first. 

Sam sat speechless for a moment before she said, “You’re hired.” 

--

You weren’t sure what to expect, working in the haunted mansion. In your lifetime, you’d encountered just about every kind of ghost, so you prepared yourself for anything when Sam introduced you. The Woodstone ghosts were an eclectic bunch, comprised of ghosts spanning nearly every decade. They were interesting, to say the least. But even if they had ended up being terrible, you were just happy to be around someone who shared your ability to see them. 

Sam and Jay had set you up at the front desk, putting you in charge of checking in guests. And when it was slow, the Woodstone ghosts often found their way to you if Sam was busy. 

One ghost in particular liked to hang around you, Trevor. He was the definition of an overgrown frat brother, with a lazy smirk and incessant flirtatious attitude. Every time he sauntered up to the front desk, calling your name, you made a habit of rolling your eyes. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, tone flat as you clicked away on the computer. 

Trevor leaned against the desk, his gaze burning into the side of your face. “How you doin’?” he said, and you sighed. 

“Watching Friends again, I see?” 

He blew air from his cheeks, deflating just slightly. “I’m a little rusty, okay?” 

“Rusty? At what?” 

“This,” he pointed between you and him. “Flirting.” 

You laughed and shook your head. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Well, yeah. My flirting with Sam is useless because she and Jay are annoyingly sweet together. But you…” Trevor trailed on, a smirk on his lips and a certain cocky attitude wrapped up in his voice. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, no-pants, but we’re not exactly… compatible.” 

He raised his brows. “Because I’m dead?” You winced slightly. You didn’t want to be the one to say it; some ghosts were really sensitive to that, but Trevor didn’t seem too bothered. He shrugged like he saw it as no big deal. “I see that as a minor roadblock.” 

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes once more and shut him down, you were impressed at his relentlessness. 

-- 

You thought after a couple of weeks of working at Woodstone, Trevor’s ploy to win you over would fade alongside his attention. But he started to hang around you even more than when you first started, and you two had created a weird but kind of nice rapport of his continued flirting, peppered with more authentic conversations sprinkled in. He told you stories of his college days and the assholes he befriended before they ended up killing him in that every house. You told him about your own school days and how you were currently floating through the motions of young adulthood, trying to figure things out. 

“Scoring a job here was nice,” you said, comfortably resting your elbows on the front desk as Trevor stood across from you, listening intently. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam and Jay are pretty cool.” He paused, toying with the end of his tie. “So, you think you’ll stick around?” 

A small smile fell across your lips. “I think so. Things are pretty interesting around here.” 

“Well, if you ever want them to be more interesting, let me know.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked, raising your brows. 

“Oh yeah. I could rile up the basement ghosts, convince Thor minivans are enemy warships, you name it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are something else.” 

“Careful,” he teased. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” 

“It was supposed to,” you replied, not missing a beat. 

Trevor’s eyes widened just slightly, the smirk wiped right off his face and was replaced by something that resembled confusion with a slight fluster. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Oh.” You didn’t know ghosts could blush until that moment, even with their lack of blood, because Trevor’s cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as he made up some excuse to leave, mumbling something about helping Sass before he hurried away. 

You chuckled, resuming your work as another guest popped in. 

--

To say your dating life was pathetic would be a polite understatement. It was almost nonexistent, which is why when an attractive-looking person popped up on the dating app you forced yourself to get, you got your hopes up a little too high. Sam had encouraged you to go out on a date with them, excitingly helping you get ready and everything. 

You had been excited, believing it was a fresh start for you. First a new job and then a new romantic interest. Unfortunately, after waiting at the restaurant, alone, for a solid hour, you realized your dating life had quickly circled back around to being pathetic. Embarrassment didn’t quite cover how you felt as you left the restaurant and headed back home to wallow. 

The following day at work, the second you stepped inside the mansion, Sam was there with an excited energy, ready to hear all about your date. She grabbed your hand and dragged you into the kitchen before you could protest. She had made tea and had left off sweets Jay had made for the guests yesterday. The other ghosts lounged around the kitchen too, and you felt even more embarrassed to talk about your total bust of a date around all of them. 

But you slouched down in the one empty seat and let Sam push a mug of tea in front of you. 

“Tell me everything!” she insisted. 

You smiled politely but it didn’t stay on your face long before it morphed into a frown. “There’s not much to tell,” you sighed. “They stood me up.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Trevor said, seated beside you, brows furrowed. 

“No call, no apology, nothing. I sat there for an hour, like an idiot.” You rubbed your forehead, a scratchy feeling in your throat. There was no way you were going to cry in front of your boss and the ghosts. You tried to swallow down your emotions as you stared at the steam curling up from your tea. 

Sam’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry.” 

“That is why you should meet suitors the old-fashioned way; not on the web,” Hetty said. 

“People meet online all of the time,” Sam said. “Bad dates happen, but you’ll find someone.” 

“At this rate, I’ll die alone,” you muttered before realizing your audience. “Sorry.” 

“Dying alone not so bad,” Thor said, in his own odd way to cheer you up. “Die here!”

“Thor,” Sam sighed but you laughed lightly. “I’d prefer no one else to die in the house.” 

The Viking shrugged. “Just suggestion.” 

You picked at your fingernails, the same pit that’s been in your stomach since your ruined dinner last night turned. 

Someone called from the entryway, the newest guest at the mansion. You moved to stand, but Sam waved you off. “I got it. You stay here, finish your tea.” You started to object, but she left before you could. With a huff, you sank back down in the chair. 

“You’re young, you got plenty of time. If I learned anything from being alive, dating in your twenties is usually a, what’s that phrase Jay uses?” 

Flower piped up, “A shit-show!” 

Alberta nodded. “Yeah, a shit-show. Brush it off and get back out there, while you’re still young and hot.” 

You smiled. “I’ll try. But you might be right, Hetty.” Maybe dating apps weren’t the way you were going to find someone. Old-fashioned dating sounded a little bit like a nightmare, but you figured it’d pay off more than mindless swiping through apps until another asshole stands you up. 

“I normally am,” Hetty said. 

The ghosts dispersed, going about their day-to-day while you lingered in the kitchen. Trevor stayed with you, quietly drumming his fingers against his bare knees. “At least you didn’t get catfished by a dead dude.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I did that once,” he said. “Catfished Jay’s sister, actually. I didn’t know she was Jay’s sister at first, obviously. But, uh, yeah. It was a whole mess. I tried to possess her friend’s body, but he ended up almost dying, so it was a total bust. Then Sam started putting the iPad in the drawer.” 

You laughed, that pit in your stomach easing just a little. “That’s insane,” you said. “A ghost on a dating app. For all know that’s why my date stood me up.” That sounded a little better than them just not being interested in meeting up with you in person. “But I doubt it.” 

Trevor shrugged. “It’s possible.” 

“I think it might just be me. I’ve never been great at the whole ‘dating’ thing.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Trevor said. “Looking like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every weekend booked.” 

You shook your head, a little flattered and a little exasperated. “Definitely not. But by the sounds of it, you did.” 

He smirked, throwing his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. “I got around, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It was odd, being around ghosts. To you, it never felt super different than hanging around livings. Besides the ability to touch them, the ghosts were every bit as real as Sam and Jay. You had started to forget that the Woodstone ghosts were just that, until they did something that knocked you back to reality. Trevor, being the most recent death, made it even harder to tell the difference. You could almost convince yourself he was living. 

“Did you ever have a serious relationship before you died?” you asked, curious. 

Trevor thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Nah. I was having too much fun being a bachelor and screwing around with my buddies to care about anything serious.” He paused, his smug attitude slipping away a little. “I didn’t know I was gonna end up dying before I could, though. I guess I would have liked to.” 

“You guess?” 

He looked a little zoned out, staring at something across the kitchen with his brows slightly knitted together. “I don’t know, I didn’t think much about it until I died.” 

Sympathy fell hard against your shoulders, and you itched to reach out to Trevor and offer some kind of comfort but you couldn’t. Instead, you said, “I’m sorry.” 

He tried to brush it off, regaining his normal composure but it didn’t shine in his eyes like it usually did. “It’s whatever. I don’t ever have to worry about going on a first date again, which is nice; those were always awful. And getting your heart broken probably sucks, so at least I’ll miss out on that.” 

“You never had your heart broken?” you asked, impressed. Even though you’ve never had a super-serious relationship, you had a tendency to fall for your crushes hard, which usually resulted in a broken heart. 

“Nope.” 

“That’s pretty lucky,” you said. If you could go the rest of your life without a broken heart, you thought that’d be nice. 

--

“It’s an interesting choice for a bachelor party, don’t you think?” Alberta said, but you had to ignore her because of the group of men you were checking in. You did agree though. The B&B was perfect for weddings and romantic weekend getaways. It was the kind of place you brought a family or your parents, not a bachelor party. But the men didn’t look like the kind to get too rowdy. The groom, in your small talk, had said they were just looking for a quiet weekend to unwind before the wedding chaos. They wanted to play video games and board games, drink whiskey, and catch whatever game was on TV. It was rather sweet, you thought. 

“You’re all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The groom said no before thanking you and leading his small group of friends up the stairs. They weren’t up there for long though. After they carried in their bags and settled in, the group was back in the entryway, waiting for a car to take them into town, where they planned to bar-hop for the evening. 

One of the groomsmen found himself at the front counter, handsome and smiley as he met your gaze. 

“Do you have any bar recommendations? So far, our ‘bar-crawl’ only consists of two bars,” the groomsman asked. 

You hummed in thought before replying, “The Black Dog is nice. It’s right on Main Street, if you’re heading downtown.” 

“Do you hang out there often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“So it has pretty company then, huh?” Your eyes widened and a flustered laugh fell from your lips.

From a couple of feet away, some of the ghosts had gathered to observe the new guests. A loud scoff sounded from Trevor before he said, “Seriously?” 

You ignored him in favor of not looking crazy in front of the guests. “Oh, uh, no-” 

“Oh, come on,” the groomsman said. “I’d say you’re pretty, really pretty, actually.” 

Your face felt hot, and you tried to focus on the man in front of you, but the ghosts refused to stop talking. 

“Get a load of this guy,” Trevor huffed. 

“He’s got game, I’ll give him that,” Alberta said, to which Trevor scoffed once more. “What? Look at him.” 

“Thank you,” you said. 

The groomsman tilted his head to the side, pausing for a beat before he said, “Would it be too much to ask when you get off work?” 

“A little.” 

He held his hands up and chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

“This can’t seriously be working on you?” Trevor said. “Look at this guy! He’s got khakis and a polo on!” 

“At least he is wearing pants,” said Hetty. 

“Unbelievable.” Trevor got closer to the counter, much to your disdain. It was hard enough trying to look sane in front of the guests when the ghosts were talking to each other, let alone you. “You’re clearly out of his league-”

“Enough!” you said, raising your voice regrettably so. 

The groomsman looked at you oddly. “Whoa, sorry I-” 

“No!” you quickly cut him off. “Not you! I was, um, I-” 

“Dude, let’s go! The car’s here!” the groom shouted from the front door, beckoning the groomsman over. 

He shot you one last smile, dipping his head in goodbye as he followed his friends out of the mansion. The door closed loudly behind them before the house was drenched in cold silence. The ghosts all stood quietly as you glared. “How many times have you asked you guys not to talk to me when I’m helping guests?” 

“I don’t know if that counted as helping-” Sass started but shut his mouth when you shifted your glare onto him. 

You mumbled under your breath before you left the front counter and bee-lined for the kitchen. Sam and Jay were out for the evening, leaving the mansion in your hands. 

You only got a singular second to yourself before Trevor appeared in the room with you. Rubbing your fingers against your forehead, you asked him. “What was that?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment before he shrugged and said, “He was flirting with you, clearly, and was out of your league like I said.” 

You stared at him, the way he fiddled with his tie and avoided your eyes. Then it hit you. “Are you jealous?” 

He blinked. “W-What? No…” By the way, his voice trailed off, you felt a terrible knot tangle in your stomach. 

“Trevor…” 

“Don’t,” he quickly said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t…I don’t need that,” he gestured to the very clear glaze of pity in your eyes, but you couldn’t help it. You felt bad, really, terribly bad. 

A heavy breath slipped from your lips as you walked toward him, placing yourself right in front of him. His lips tugged downward in a still sadness that made your heart ache. “I’m really sorry.” 

Trevor sighed, “Don’t be. It’s…ugh.” He pressed his hands against his eyes, laughing bitterly at himself. “I’m dead,” he said. “You’re not.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, unsure of what else to say. Maybe if you had met him in a different life, one where you both were either alive or dead, you’d take his flirting more to heart. But that wasn’t your current situation. You existed in different realms, untouchable but on each other’s paths. You’d never described your ability as cruel until that moment. 

“And I’m an idiot,” he added. 

“No, you’re not. If things were different…” Even saying the words aloud, they felt bitter on your tongue, doing more harm than good. You could tell by the wince that twitched in Trevor’s face. 

He smiled sadly, recovering from just the implication of your unfinished sentence. “But they’re not.” He let out a breathy sigh before he nodded his head toward the kitchen door. “I’m gonna go,” he said, slipping away before you could say anything else. 

-- 

The next couple of days passed uncomfortably inside the mansion. Trevor barely showed his face, and you felt worse and worse by the hour. Hetty and Issac kept you company at the front desk, making light conversation between their reassurance that Trevor would be okay. But your guilt weighed on you. You didn’t know how to make it better; you feared you wouldn’t be able to. 

But things came to a turn on the last day the bachelor party was there. The handsome groomsman had left his number on a slip of paper that you crumbled and shoved in your pocket, heavy on your side. You watched as they pulled out of the driveway and when you were alone, you unrolled the paper with his number, staring at it so intently you missed a presence appear beside you. 

“You should call him.” Trevor’s voice started you. You yelped and clutched your heart, which brought a small smile to his lips. 

“What?”

He sighed, shifting in his shoes and looking a little unsure of himself. “That’s his number, right?” You nodded. “You should call him.” 

“Oh, no-” 

Trevor cut you off. “Why not?” Because you felt bad, but you didn’t need to say that for Trevor to understand. “Don’t not call him because of me. Seriously, I…I lied when I said I’ve never had my heart broken.” 

You peered at him, confused. “Why?” 

“Because it sounded a little pathetic to say I crush hard. I liked my recess teacher so much that I cried like a baby when I had to move to fourth grade. In high school, my girlfriend of two weeks broke up with me because she was moving schools and I faked sick for three days because I was so, embarrassingly heartbroken. It’s just how I am,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “But I’ll get over it. It’s like not it would have worked out with me being dead and all. It was stupid.” 

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said. “And you’re not pathetic. It’s sweet, actually. Really sweet.” 

Trevor shrugged. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” He pointed a finger at the paper in your hands. “Call him, okay? You deserve a good date, the old-fashioned way.” 

And so you did, the old-fashioned way.

[leafington]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩. - kento n.

content warning !! - enemies to lovers w nanami (i caved), blackfem!reader, ngh modelceo!reader, ceo!nanami, me putting my business and entrepreneurship knowledge to use, light intoxication, suggestiveness at the end

a/n - IM BACK YALL WOOOOOO, sorry for making u wait @jellicatty 🙁

For years, Nanami has held himself to competition with you and your company. If he had a tier-list of all the people he hated, you were a close second to Gojo. To say he hated your guts was an understatement, some thought he just had some sort of lingering grudge, others assumed you two just got off the wrong foot but they couldn't be far from wrong. That man practically wanted you dead, and that's a hard call to make from someone who was raised well.

His mother was nothing short of a good woman, she taught his son to do great things—respect elders, women, and children alike, offer up his seat to those who needed it more than him, never pray upon someone's downfall no matter how hard they made his life. Each and every time he comes across your presence, he closes his eyes and mentally apologizes to his mother.

Your being insinuates such hatred within him. The way you arose to popularity out of nowhere due to what? Daddy's money? Your looks that earned you sexiest woman alive four years in a row? He wasn't accepting that 'model starting their own company' bullshit, not that he didn't believe one couldn't, just not you.

He recalls the very first moment he met you, three years ago when you made his life hell. 'Japan's Top Model, L/n Y/n, announces her official clothing line.' Who knew a simple headline could turn his future upside down? At the time, he'd only heard of you once or twice over a news article or a random scandal that just so happened to sneak into his algorithm. But this was different, it effected him in every way possible.

Suddenly, he has competition. 'LVS' stocks had reached a pinnacle point within just a few weeks of launching, he'd never seen those abbreviations before, the next, his own business was constantly being compared to by this new threatening company. All things after that basically consisted of Nanami fighting for his top spot. You can't even describe how upset he was when he first met you. A beautiful woman, buttering up the chairman into letting you attend the business meetings that he [Nanami] went to, pretty tits bouncing when introducing yourself to the other members of the council, and that gleam of something in your eye when you finally met with Nanami.

"So you're the one hogging No. 1?"

He doesn't give a damn how many of the other pervs fell for your charm, to him, you were the devil in disguise.

Nanami Kento despised you with every fibre of his person. Even at this formal event.

"Sexiest woman alive"? Damn right you were. He can see how easily the others fell for you, if he didn't have his head screwed on tight, he would've been the next one to take you in the office.

That black sleeveless maxi dress kept him on his toes the entire night, curves and assets prominent. The way you held your glass of sparkling rosé, chatting it up with whoever that unfortunate soul was that thought they would get you in their bed after this was all over. Nanami held his own drink, a good amount of scotch that'd get him through the remainder of the event without bashing someone's head in. He's trying to listen to his colleague brag about his latest product of his work that's been selling well, but you being in his line of sight smiling and giggling seemed way more appealing.

In no way is Nanami a man who occupied himself with women, until he found a good place to settle and retire, a relationship didn't have any room in his life. To the best of his abilities, he ignores the now reciprocated exchange of stares, only sipping from the modern glass whenever he felt he needed the extra loosening.

And loose he was.

You look good. Too good. He turned his head to avoid indulging, not with the woman who's downfall he's prayed upon. Though it's far too late because that scotch is getting it's moneys worth having already downed three glasses and bringing him closer and closer to the woman he claimed he loathed.

His compliments were unlike anything he's ever thought of you. "You look stunning tonight." "Your stylist did an amazing job." "The pictures do you no justice." Drunk words are sober thoughts as they say. His eyes were telling more than his words, he wanted you bad.

Compared to any other elderly male he knew what to say to have you feel won over, even if you were well aware of his hatred towards you. So.. though it was just for a night, you returned the favor. Addressing his compliments with your own, insisting that the media makes such false claims about his person, feeling him up, and eventually dragging him to the bathroom to show him exactly how you shot to the top.

"You minx." He hisses as your kisses trail lower from his jaw. "Oh? What happened to all that talk you were doing?" You effortlessly tug his tie off, allowing it to hang from his neck. "Do you do this with every man you want to surpass?" He grits, fighting his natural urges to give in. "Very few, only the ones that act uppity and look good in a suit."

"Fuck... I hate you so much."

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[portgasdwrld]

📞Wait a minute while I make you mine part.4(final)

Featuring: Ace x F!reader

Warning: NSFW content, MINORS DNI !!!

Note: I’m back I’m sorry 👩🏻‍💻idk if I hate writing smut because it takes me so much time, or because I wish IRL men were like this.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

4.Giving up

Ace looked at you as he expected some sort of words to exit his mouth. Every of his heartbeat felt closer to death to him as his mind rushed with thoughts he has been having of you. He was put on the spot and Ace couldn't find a way to portray his emotions to you in words or actions, tell you exactly why his heart always felt warmer near you. Faced to your question, his basic ability to speech were gone.

-What do you mean?

It was the best thing he could let out. His heart was beating fast as he watched your features change to a defeated smile that covered your lips. His hand reached the back of his head where he let it slide back to his jawline, to finally let it fall back to his side.

-I don't know Ace? Do I really need to be more direct than this. I just don't know how to feel about you anymore..

You replied with a dry chuckle, your eyes flickered to his figure. His heart winced at your words. Were you mad because of the stunt Enya pulled? It wasn't your type to get jealous over someone or even show you care. You never did with him or with anyone so what could've possible happened to make you switch your behavior.

-I'm not sure I truly grasp the situation, y/n.

-Ugh, you can be so dense.

You exhaled as you stand up and face him. You sighed in frustration as you walked towards him with your heels in one hand. You pulled your short dress down and pushed your hair out of your face. Eyelashes a little wet from the slight crying, you looked up to him and quickly bit your lips.

-Listen, dumb fire boy. I like you and a part of me hate to admit it, but here it is, you do what you want with this information.

You admit through your lashes. Ace watched you closely with lips parted, surprised by your sudden confession. Your gaze shifted from his eyes to the red lipstick's mark left on his neck. You trailed it with the edge of your fingers, before brushing it with your thumb, smudging it away from his skin.

-..And honestly I hate seeing other persons leave marks on your body if it's not me

Ace surprised expression quickly changed into the familiar cocky grin you were so familiar to. He closed the distance between you two and tilted his face down. His breath brushed your nose as you felt his fingers softly grip your waist.

-So, you like me, huh?

You roll your eyes as a smile curved your lips. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a quick second and back to his brown eyes as you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck.

-Yeah... I like you … very much.

You let in a shaky whisper as your own nervousness was now difficult to hide. He slightly giggled and his eyes stared at you for a moment, enjoying the proximity of your body after imagining it for so long. You were so pretty to his eyes.

-I like you too

-Then, just kiss me already

And without missing any time, Ace pressed his lips against yours. The earning you two had for each other for such a long time was clearly being shown through the kiss, it was bit rough but still sensual. Ace's hands travelled down to your hips and butt as he brought you closer to him. Your fingers interlocking with his darks locks as you barely pulled them, it left him grunting in your mouth. You wanted more, he wanted more.

-fuck.. I can't get enough of you

He panted between the wet kisses interchanged between y'all lips. You let one hand slide to his nude chest as the other cupped the side-end of his jawline. You didn't even want to hide that your need for him was almost unbearable at the moment.

-Ace.. I need you.

As if he was only waiting for you to say those words, he quickly pulled you towards one of the long chairs where he sat and brought you down to his laps. You hovered over him and his hands directly went on your ass where he grabbed it earning a gasp from your lips. But, he didn't even let you react properly as he dived back into kissing you more hungrily than ever by grabbing the back of your head with one of his hands.

-Ace you're not going to fuck me here, aren't you?

You ask pushing him away with your two hands pressed on his chest. He laid back and looked at you with a challenging smirk.

-Whos going to see anyway, its so dark out here

-Ace...

He slapped your ass making you gasp once again. You stared at him defeated by his totally nonchalant and shameless behavior.

-Since, when did I ever care about that. I'm a pirate baby.

He concluded the "conversation" by pulling your wrist towards him so your body fell on his, once again. He cupped your cheeks with one hand as the other pushed away the few strands of hair on your face.

-Is it fine with you sweetheart?

You took a big breath. At this point you didn't even care because you felt so wet and you desperately needed release no matter what. You looked down at his eyes and smirked as you pecked his lips.

-Yeah, it's more fun this way

He smirked right back and adjusted his position, but thrusted into you in the process. His growing hard bulge brushing against your wet core, made you moan , a moan that you quickly tried to conceal with your hand.

-Don't do that

He whispered into your ears, nibbling on your neck. sucking your skin while you started to grind against him.

-I don't want people to hea-

You quickly got cut off with a moan escaping your lips as he intentionally pushed his hips up again. You quickly glared at him as you watched a cocky smirk grow on his face. You rolled your eyes and lightly pulled some of his hair intertwined between your fingers. He chuckled and gave your collarbone a last kiss before he looked up at you with the same shitty confident grin.

-Be vocal, I like it

He said smiling while playing with your ass and jiggling it in his hands. You looked at him almost speechless at his incredibly laidback attitude. You would never believe that he has touched himself multiple of times imagining you on top of him, fucking you or you sucking him off, that he was eager to feel you around him.

-Alright, as much I want us to take our time, let's hurry. Need some prep, angel?

-What happened to your "I don't care who see us" bs?

You asked with a cocked eyebrow as you felt him slide his digits under your panties. He pushed your panties to the side as he let his fingers get coated by your wetness. You gripped his shoulders as you pushed your body forward, inviting him to push them inside.

-I take this as a no?

-Acee, stop being a tease.

You whined as you let your head rest on the crook on his neck. You felt his torso vibrating against your arms as he giggled at your whines. He pushed two of his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in the perfect needed pace.

-Fuck..

You sighed as you felt your pleasure slowly building up. He quickened the pace, making his fingers roughly hit your sweet spot as your juices ran down his hand.

-So good to me, you want my cock sweetheart

-Yes, please

-What do you want baby? Use your words

-I want your cock Ace, please

He pulled out his fingers bringing them over to his mouth where he quickly sucked away the juice and opened his belt.

-Wait, let me do that

He put his hands back on your hips as he watched you do your thing. You sat a little over his knees and unzipped his shorts. You took his already hard dick in your hands, smearing the pre-cum on the tip. You leaned over him, kissing his lips as you stroke his length. His hands cupped your face as he deepened the kiss by pushing his tongue in your mouth. Drool all over y'all faces and his dick twitching in your hand, you got closer to him angling his tip closer to your hole. You slowly sank down, earning both of you to moan in each others mouth. Ace finally let go to catch his breath, his head resting on the back of the chair.

-You feel so good, fuck

He let you some time to get used to his dick inside of you before he started to move slowly his hips. You sighed as the fullness he provided you, was enough to make you easily build up the pleasure you had earlier with his fingers. You closed your eyes as you once again rest your head on his chest.

-You're okay baby?

He asked making sure as he softly caressed your head. You nodded and with that he adjusted his position to have a better angle to thrust in you. He was slow at first, but he gradually caught up the pace. You started to move your hips along with his to add more friction. The sound of your bodies loving each other quickly filled the empty quiet space. You unintentionally bit his chest to muffle a loud moan when his dick hit a perfect spot.

-Hey...what did I say earlier..

You couldn't even talk back as you were simply too focused with the feeling of his dick hitting you so good inside, the way his thumb rubbed against your clit and how his other hand was gripping your ass.

-Can't ..even talk h-huh?

He teases in a shaky voice before letting a groan out. He loved feeling your breast rubbing against his chest and your ass clapping against his shorts as it moved up and down. With the rush of adrenaline of possibly being caught and fucking outside, he felt like he was almost over the edge already.

-Ace...I'm so close, faster please

He moved faster, controlling now your hips pace too. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a last stroke accompanied with his thumb pressed slightly against your clit, made you release all over his dick. You screamed his name, your body shaking in his hold as he thrusted harder and faster to reach his own high, cumming inside of you. You two were panting hard as Ace fingers were brushing up and down your back.

-My legs feel numb...

You pant as you looked up to him. He opened his eyes to stare at your eyes, before you two chuckled.

-It's fine, ima take care of you after we get back to the ship. i just need to catch my breath.

A comfortable silence set as you let your head fall on his chest, hearing his quick heartbeat.

-You came inside huh

-Yeah, sorry about that-

-It's fine, im on the pill dirty ass.

-Dirty ass??

-Yeah??It will be dripping down my legs when we walk back to the ship, gross.

-Oh..., didn't think about that. Ima carry you, don't worry.

-Thanks

Ace smiled to himself enjoying your presence and the moment. His hand was still caressing your back.

-Soooo ...we are going out now?

-That's a stupid question

-Okay mister-super-dense

He laughed as he remembered the early scene where he was totally confused to your indirect confession. He kissed your forehead, loving how your eyes glittered when they stared into his.

-Yeah, yeah whatever.... but yes, I can finally call you mine

[sailormarijuanera]

(꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

 “Oookaaayy, how about this one?” 

His chin rested on the same hand that held the bright, cherry red lollipop, his eyes barely flashed in your direction before he kept scrolling through his phone with his other hand.

“It isn’t terrible,” he said. The fact that that was the most positive thing he’d said about any of the outfits was the last straw. 

“Why do you agree to do things you clearly don’t want to do.” It wasn’t a question, just followed by a long, exaggerated sigh. You were already at the other side of the store, looking at yourself in the mirror. It was obvious; the only opinion that mattered was yours. 

“Did I?” came his voice, monotone as ever as he popped the candy back into his mouth. 

“Did you what?” you called back. 

“Agree.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so right. Maybe I’ll finally find a new store with less sassy employees” you said in a simple-resolution sounding tone, though you made extra sure to emphasize the first S of the last word anyone would typically use to describe Choso. Nevertheless, it was an easy fix. If you were unwelcome, you’d let him know the message was received. 

You went back into the dressing room, letting out an exasperated puff of air. The shop’s only pocket of space large enough to house the two tiny dressing rooms was tucked into the back corner of the store.  

You had just taken off the top you were trying, eyeing the crimson, lacey bra you were also considering when, without warning, the curtain to your fitting room was yanked to the side. 

“Excu-” 

“Sassy?” he interrupted. “You flaunt around in front of me looking like that, then call me sassy?” 

He was inside the room, closing the curtain behind him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, you had no idea what came over him. “Choso, I-” 

“No, no, I know. You’re sorry, right?” His hands were on your hips, now. “And you’re just dying to make it up to me.” You were against the wall, and he was on you. His fingers digging into your hips, his eyes looking down at you, his lids hooded and heavy. His breathing heavy, you only noticed because his broad chest was at eye-level, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it was moving. 

“I mean, that’s not what I was gonna say,” you were suddenly hyper-aware of his hands. How large they felt against you. “You think I was flaunting?” 

The corner of his lips, his stupid, pouty lips, pulled up just the slightest bit. It was so hard to get any sort of reaction out of him, that ghost of a smile was enough to get your heart racing and your thighs rubbing against each other. His right hand skimmed over the fabric of your skirt- well, the store’s skirt,- before stopping just under your torso. Both of your chests were heaving, now. You were never one to play it cool, and this was definitely not the time you were suddenly going to spawn the ability. He licked his bottom lip, his mouth slightly agape. “I’m going to kiss you.” 

You nodded. 

“Then I’m gonna fuck you in this fitting room.” 

Your thighs pressed against each other again, and he actually gave you a smirk. “Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you whispered. 

“No, baby.” His right hand stayed where it was while his left grabbed you by the chin. Not gently, necessarily, but with just enough grip to convey a message. His dark purple eyes bore into yours, the shadows of the poorly lit room making him look more shrouded in mystery than usual. The semi-permanent bags under his eyes somehow made him that much hotter, which you were sure he was fully aware of. He knew how fine he was, and it was causing you great emotional distress. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Please,” you said. Your voice was raspy, you didn’t realize just how bad you wanted him. Or more accurately, you’d been working so hard to get over your little crush and now it was being undone in seconds. You’d only just stopped fantasizing about him before bed, after meeting him toward the end of spring. Now it was almost fall, and you were being sucked in all over again. 

“There we go,” but his grip on your chin didn’t loosen. Instead, his other hand roamed greedily down your body, then back up before stopping at your chest. His lips finally landed on yours at the same moment his hand slipped under your bra. The sweet cherry flavor lingered on his breath, mingled with the simple, clean-smelling cologne you always associated him with. You wanted nothing more than to sink into him and meld your mouth into his until separation became a distant thought, a fleeting notion. But he wasn’t having it, you couldn’t get too comfortable apparently, there were things to do. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipple ever so slightly, but just enough to send a delicious shiver down your body, right between your legs. You could feel how wet you were getting, and somewhere in the back of your mind was the hope that he would be into it. He grabbed your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling back just a bit, then he let go. His eyes met yours. 

He didn’t say anything, only moved that same fucking hand from your tit down your stomach, his fingers moving right past your underwear like it wasn’t even there because why the fuck were you even wearing underwear? Huh? 

Two fingers slipped in so easily, that it seemed to earn you some praise. “Oh my fucking god,” he groaned, and relief and arousal battled over which would consume you first. “Of course, it’s wet for me. It better be this fucking wet every single time.” His fingers curved into your pussy but couldn’t go any deeper because of your awkward position. That fact didn’t seem to bother him because he seemed just as determined to make you cum. In small, sharp movements he pumped those glorious fucking fingers in and out of you, your pussy dripping by the time he’d decided you’d had enough. You were a gasping mess and you’d never seen him so happy. His smile was small, just barely tugging on the corners of his lips, but it was because of you. 

Now he was on his knees in front of you, his big hands grabbed the skirt by the sides, and flipped up the fabric before landing soft kisses on the front of your thighs.  He bunched up the fabric on one side, his left hand holding the skirt taut around your torso, holding you firmly in place. His right hand grabbed your thigh and brought it over his shoulder, his mouth almost immediately on your cunt. Normally, it’d be a bad sign for a guy to ignore foreplay like this completely, but it seemed his mere existence was enough foreplay for you. He had to be aware of this, because why else would you be so wet?

[lowkeyremi]

HI! I just wanna say your fics make me happy and I really enjoy reading them!! But what I’m requesting is a Yuji x reader where a short reader becomes self conscious after finding out he said he likes tall girls, she doesn’t bring it up immediately but he can tell something is wrong. (This is kind of stupid but I thought it was cute lmao) i imagine it would be a kind of angst to comfort type of thing :) I would prefer a female reader but anything is fine! 💗

YOUR TYPE yuji itadori x (short) fem!reader

Remi's note: It's not stupid, hon! I'm 5'3" lololol so I can relate in a way :3 Yuji does not know what he's missing out on !!

content: fluff, reader is a little bit insecure, i kinda followed the timeline but it's no where near canon lol

When you transferred to Jujutsu High a certain pink haired student immediately caught your attention. In fact, you believe that his presence demands everyone's attention because of how much of a sunshine boy he is. He's tall, cute, kind, and a little bit naive.

Essentially he's most of what you look for in a guy but you aren't too sure you're what he looks for in a girl. Not after hearing him discuss his type with Todo. "I like a girl who's tall with a big butt, like Jennifer Lawrence!" And while you had the whole big butt thing down (sorry if you don't i'm self indulging here sigh), you don't have the height he mentions.

At first you were okay that.. you can still be his type right? You don't have to be tall. You brought the subject up with Megumi and Nobara one day while the three of you were eating lunch, Yuji was away on a mission. "Do you guys think I might still have a chance with Yuji? I know I'm not tall but..." you trail on trying to think of something to say.

Megumi wants no part in this conversation but gives you his honest answer anyway, "Eh, probably not. You two never really talk to each other. He's honestly kinda awkward around you." A frown breaches your beautiful face and you begin to pick at your food. Nobara thinks differently of the situation.

"Ah, don't listen to dumb old Fushiguro. He doesn't have a girlfriend so he can't give anyone advice. I think you two would look super cute together! If you just talk to him I'm sure you could figure out what's on his mind." Nobara's advice sounds more charming but you also take Megumi's into consideration. Truth be told, you and Yuji don't talk much and he's always nervously laughing around you.

Yuji eventually returns from his mission exhausted. He still comes by to greet everyone though which makes you smile. "Um.. Itadori?" He pauses in his steps to turn around and give you his attention with a weary smile. "Mhm?"

"Do you think I could uh- talk to you sometime tomorrow? Just the two of us?" You gaze at anything in the common room besides him. A sudden wave of nervousness rolls through your gut.

"Um. Yeah, of course! I'm going to head to bed now, goodnight everyone!!" Yuji scurries out of the common room. Was that good? Was it bad? You couldn't get a clear read on him and now you're panicking.

You're able to remain calm though because Panda and Inumaki give you a thumbs up. Nobara smiles at you and whispers, "you got this girl!"

As you were preparing for bed, you had a sudden hope that a black hole would just come and swallow you up before dawn peaks. Worry clouded your ability to rest properly so the night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. When the sun had barely even peaked through the window you decided to start your day.

Your phone reads 6:53 am. Usually you'd begin your day at around 7:30 but sleep was not an option. Usually rejection didn't phase you much, but you were no longer in a huge school where you could likely avoid a guy who rejected you. Jujutsu High has a total of ten students including you. It would be hard to hide yourself from Yuji after facing rejection.

Once you were properly dressed and had clean teeth you left your dorm room to sit outside and admire the sunrise. You weren't sure how long you had been sitting out there but quiet footsteps gather your attention. The one boy who you were not ready to face yet was standing right behind you, his signature smile gracing his face.

"Mind if I join you for whatever you wanna talk to me about?" You want to tell him no or that you aren't ready yet but you inhale slowly and exhale deeply to rid those negative thoughts from your brain.

You pat the ground next to you motioning for him to join you, "Yeah, be my guest."

He sits down next to you and you sit there trying to think of what you'll say. The silence is awkward and the tension is definitely high. "So I hear you like tall girls." Terrible start. If he rejects you, you won't be surprised.

"Heh, yeah.." You meet those chocolate eyes of his. They hold confusion and the urge to know what you are trying to say.

"Do you.." Pause. How should you go about this? "Do you think that even though I'm not tall I'd still have a chance?" Silence follows your question as Yuji soaks in what you've just said.

You. Like. Him? He's surprised to say the least. Yuji had thought it was the other way around, he didn't believe he had a chance with someone like you. Sure you aren't his usual type but he's fallen for your beauty and your personality all the same.

The silence creates a tight feeling in your chest. He must be trying to find a way to let you down gently right?

"I mean it's totally okay if you don't! I just.. never mind. I think I'll go now." He grabs your wrist before you can try to leave and you look into his eyes wondering what he's thinking.

"You do! Sure you're not that tall but you're cute and funny. I thought I didn't have a chance with you. Oh my gosh a girl just asked me out!!" Relief pours over you almost instantly. So you've been overthinking things.

"You've liked me? For how long?!" He shrugs trying to remember.

"Oh yeah! When Sensei sent you, me, and Fushiguro on a mission together. You were so badass when you exorcised that curse. I was thinking 'damn she's hot as hell'!!!"

A giggle escapes your throat at Yuji's dramatics. He's so sweet and confident and knows what he wants. The fact that he wants you makes your heart swell.

[asananax]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 D𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳’𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑵.

warnings ;male reader, can be very ooc, and I’m sorry if it is, requested by @hotaro161 English isn’t my first language, and I tend to forget words etc..

• Most of the mafiaso, when they look at both of you they will probably never guess you’ll be friends with Tachihara. Your and his personality, and aesthetic y’all were totally different of each other, as if you could never get along.

• Well at first you thought the same about it, he’s the type to be rough outside and maybe inside too, at first glance or when it was your first time pairing with him in mission. You didn’t think he was that bad, just seems like he would argue with your order at times which could lead to argument.

• However, you were the slightly the opposite of him. You wouldn’t speak that much, especially to new people, mafioso you were rather calm in most situations like your father…he’s sometimes calm just way to worried.

• Nonetheless, after y’all first mission, you somehow managed to be faintly friends? Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re Mori’s son, and have to respect you after all despite you hated being treated like you weren’t as equal as them but it didn’t seems like it with him. He hated that feeling of you being superior, and he had to respect you just because you’re someone’s son or just underestimating his skills of fighting, prideful much.

• As weeks, months, even years passed a strong bond between the two of you started. Tachihara developed something about you, but he would have never thought he would one day. Feelings, he grew that as the months goes by every time he tried to talk to you he felt nervous, he never felt that. Those feelings are new for him, he knew what those feelings were but he never thought how bad he can be.

• He hated to keep it secret, but if you reject him, what he will do next ? Act as if nothing happened, or just be devastated cause he truly cared about you. You’re also Mori’s only son, would he ever accept this would he be overprotective with you and doesn’t want him near you. All his thought were negative, not letting have the courage to confess but it’s some feelings that will ruin your friendship, right?

He shakes his head, trying to let go of this pessimism. His hands clenched, he looks up with courage and assurance deciding to talk to you, he was in a long corridor few meters and he will be in front of your room. He strolled in the corridors, until he heard a door squeaking open. Mori stepped out of his room, accompanied of his ability also named Elise, she was in different dress instead of the red one. The red wondered if he hadn’t force her to put it that dress, the 40 years old man noticed him. With a smile he stated "hey, Tachihara, where are going in those corridors, definitely heading towards my son room? " he asked, raising his brow as the blue eyed girl and long blonde haired stared at them. "Hey mr Mori, and Elise, I was heading to [Name]’s room to talk about something—" He faintly cracked a smiled, Mori wasn’t too suspicious, that what he pondered at least. The man left, holding the little blonde girl’s hand.

After this interaction, he finally arrived in front of the door. About to knock, the door opened, a purpled eyes shaped like almond with medium long hair almost like his father’s. "I heard you in the walls, and my father saying your name so I eaves dropped" you chuckled, with a small smile across your face. "Come in!" You exclaimed backing away from the door letting the male enters your room. He scratched the back of his neck anxiously, he followed you to your bed and sat down. "So now, what you wanted to tell me about?” He took a deep breath, and exhale. "I have feelings for you." He stated as if he was trying to be arrogant to hide it someway. "Trying to act nonchalant with me ? It won’t work I know too much about you." You grinned, the silence was loud for red dyed hair until you answered him after thinking few seconds. "I do reciprocate your feelings, for quite awhile." You looked down, then peer back at him. This guy was flushing, having a bright crimson in his cheeks. "Are..you for real right now" you nodded leaning on his shoulder. "I’m pretty sure I am..or am I but, I’ll ask you. Are you willing to be my partner?" You ask standing up from your bed.

You extended your hands to make him stand, but he just brushed off your hand so, you put it behind your back. He stood up. "Ugh…yea I’m willing to be…" he hesitated, " yours" he rolls his eyes. "Oh right, I almost forgot to give something you’ve been searching for. Probably?" You pondered the last words out loud. His brow frowned, what was he searching for, he doesn’t remember. Both of your hands were behind you, was it a surprise? He wonders. You leaned closer to his face, almost meeting his lips, he was lean back a bit confused but stayed still.

Until something comes near his lips, it wasn’t your lips but an object. A hat, a red one. He recognized the hat, it was his, and forgot to take from his room. His eyes widened with sweats appearing. You whispered in his ear, "you’re not a good hider, I won’t do anything so yeah. You better hide it or someone will find it, and would definitely be my dad. Maybe in other universe I didn’t reciprocate my love, or affection for you I’ll probably would have executed you myself. So hide it afterwards I don’t want you to be dead at night cause of my feelings. Got me clear?” He knew it was definitely a sort of threat slightly affectionate somehow, he nodded and took the hat from your hands. Before leaving, you have him a peck on his lips, as you giggle leaving him in your room.