#the first time these three worked together and saved the possessed

[teafiend]

Gifs credited to @Nungchae (Twitter)

Such realistically raw, gritty scenes. Love everything about this episode ❤️‍🔥 Especially the partial focus on Kang Gil Young (and her developing relationships with the men).

The accusations made by the possessed about Choi Yoon - and Kang Gil Young’s reactions - gave me chills more than all the wailing, curses and screams of the woman because it was the most “realistic” horror in this indelible segment. A brilliant combination of writing, direction and performance (lighting, set up etc too). 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

[cordeliawhohung]

Leftovers [1/3]

Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series |

part 2 | part 3

warnings: unhealthy thrupple relationship, hurt/some comfort, slight dub-con, possessive Simon, smut, (f!recieving oral, fingering, p in v) 6.5k wc

Mr. and Mrs. Price don't know how to take care of you properly. Simon is hellbent on saving you, no matter the means.

The first and only rule that came with living with the Prices was that no matter how much you thought otherwise, they didn’t really love you.

It didn’t matter how sweetly Mrs. Price kissed your forehead, her lips would never grace yours, and despite how deliciously Mr. Price would pump his fingers into your cunt he would never bless you with the opportunity to take his cock. Above all else, they first belonged to one another before ever belonging to you. All you were good for was being their sweet little pet, nothing but a catalyst for their pleasure; their favorite aphrodisiac. 

There were worse things in the world to be, and being a pet wasn’t all that bad. The Prices kept a roof over your head and gave you meals at least three times a day, if not more. Every now and then while Mr. Price was away at work, you and Mrs. Price would fall asleep on the couch together. Hours later you would wake up with your head on her chest, but you wouldn’t dare to stir her awake because the sound of her heart beating was more captivating than anything that droned on the television. 

But she would always wake up when Mr. Price came home, and she’d drag you off to the bedroom where they’d strip you bare like some spectacle. Mrs. Price’s lips would devour every inch of your skin, kissing your neck, chest, and breasts; kissing everything except for you. Meanwhile, Mr. Price would fuck his fingers into you and growl every time his wife giggled at your moans. His cock would harden in his pants, a sight that you would never be able to see, and just as you came undone on his fingers his lips would always find their way to her instead of you. 

They would laugh and giggle as you squirmed underneath them and coo about how adorable you were. How soft and pliant you were for them, such a good and well behaved pet. They would kiss your body a few more times before tucking you in for the night and leaving you alone to do their own lovemaking elsewhere. That’s how it always ended. Always the lover, never the loved, but that was okay. At least you weren’t alone. 

Things started changing when Mr. Riley showed up. 

He showed up at the house one day by invitation from Mr. Price and nearly scared you half to death. Like a ghost, he seemingly appeared in the living room one evening and took up all the space on the loveseat. Perhaps that’s what had intimidated you at first, just the sheer size of him. He stood taller than Mr. Price did, and the bulging muscles of his body was proof he could rip you in half if he so pleased. Then there were the faded scars on his face, the ruggedness of his features and the piercing expression in his dark brown eyes. He looked at you like you were a meal ready to be eaten. Or, maybe you just wished that he would. 

Mr. Riley was a quiet man, you learned. He hardly spoke throughout dinner and when he did he was rather short and blunt with his responses. Though he was a man of few words, everything he said seemed to have some sort of meaning. There was something about his voice that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and you nearly choked on your food at the sensation. It wasn’t at all unpleasant, and if anything the deep timbre of his voice was rather soothing, and you liked the teasing nature of his banter with Mr. Price. Perhaps you enjoyed it too much. 

There must have been something about the way you looked at Mr. Riley that caught attention. Truly, you meant no harm by it. Art littered his arms in the form of dark tattoos that you couldn't pull your eyes from because you had never seen ink cover the skin of someone so beautifully before. Never seen anyone quite capture the well formed muscle and veins like had been done on Mr. Riley’s arms. And really, the scars on his face and his crooked nose intrigued you. There were stories waiting to be uncovered, literature that hid behind the depths of his eyes. You just wanted to read it. That was all it was, you swore it. 

After plates had been cleaned and the table was cleared away, you learned you were not as subtle as you thought you were with your minor infatuation with your guest. Not even your intense stare at the TV screen as you pretended to pay attention to the movie Mrs. Price had picked out was able to throw suspicion off of you. Just as you had gotten settled on the sectional next to Mr. Price, you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, quickly followed by a hot breath on your ear. 

“Pet,” Mr. Price whispered, “my friend looks lonely over there. Why don’t you keep him company?” 

His proposition made you tense against his side and he chuckled at your failed attempt at keeping cool. Keep Mr. Riley company? Once more your eyes found their way to him and you felt your throat tighten at the thought. Were you supposed to sit by him? Entertain him? No, that felt wrong. You belonged to the Prices, not their friend. Then again, you were instructed to keep the man company, and good pets do as they’re told. 

Without so much as a word you rose from your spot on the sectional and quickly made your way to the loveseat Mr. Riley had settled himself on. It was difficult not to fall into the gravity of him when you sat next to him as his weight shifted the cushions, giving you no choice but to all but lean into him. You heard his quiet hum in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to just so blatantly sit next to him. You caught him look at you for a short moment, but you kept your eyes glued to the TV as if he was never there to begin with, and eventually he looked away. 

Embarrassment. It was the only word you could think of to describe how you felt sitting next to that man. Conversing with others wasn’t exactly your forte, it’s why you agreed to throw your old life away when Mrs. Price invited you into a relationship with her and her husband. They would take care of you, and you wouldn’t have to be perceived and go out and about in the world. They knew full well of that; perhaps that was their way of having some fun with you. 

Things were fine until halfway through the movie when Mr. Riley put his arm around you. There was nothing you could do but fall against his side as his firm hand settled against your waist. He held you close to him as if he had no intention of letting you go, and yet acted as if he had never done so in the first place as his attention stayed fully trained on whatever boring movie droned in the background. Blood gushed in your ears and panic settled into your chest. Surely that had broken some sort of rule, and yet when you glanced over to the Price’s with wide eyes, you realized that they couldn’t even care less. 

So you took a deep breath in some attempt to calm yourself, and once the blood settled in your veins, you realized that you could hear Mr. Riley’s heart. Each beat was strong and steady as if it had never wavered throughout its entire existence, and its reverberations were so strong you could feel it pulse throughout your own body. You took another deep breath, this time more content, and realized you rather liked the smell of him too. Some sort of dark, soft aroma mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes. It was comforting, perhaps the most calm you had felt in a long while. 

“Cute, isn’t she?” 

It wasn’t until Mrs. Price spoke that you realized you had fallen asleep like that, tucked into the side of a man you hardly knew. Cold hands pulled you away from the warmth that was Mr. Riley, and half awake you were brought to your room without the chance to glance at him from over your shoulder. Despite it all, Mrs. Price cooed at you while she laid you down in your bed and tugged the blankets over your body with a simple kiss to your forehead. 

“Goodnight, pet,” she cooed before closing the door behind her. 

That night you fell asleep alone in your cold bed while dreaming about the warmth Mr. Riley had given you. It was something you could only ever pray for when craving something from the Prices, and yet he had given it to you so willingly, as if you didn’t deserve anything less. Maybe it was unfair of you to compare the people who had given you so much to a man who you hardly knew. Friendly. That’s all he was. But it didn’t end there. Every time Mr. Price invited him over, he always directed you to Mr. Riley’s side eventually, talking about how lonely he looked, or that you should be a good host to him. 

Soon enough it got to the point where you didn’t even need prompting; you already knew your place was next to Mr. Riley. Curled against his side, hanging off his arm, even sitting on his lap, in one instance. Each touch that he gave you seared across your skin, but it was always respectful, nearly too respectful. Fingertips always gliding along your waist but never dipping low enough to caress your hips or grope your ass, nor high enough to brush against the underside of your breasts. His touch always left you craving more, and yet that was something he didn’t seem to intend on giving you.

He did, however, give you a new name. Sweetheart, he called you. It was something he whispered to you at first from the safety of the confines of his arms, as if he worried Mr. Price would overhear him and reprimand him for it. Then he became a bit more brave. He called you sweetheart when he asked you to pass him the salt at dinner, and then again when you eventually fell asleep on the couch and he offered to carry you to your room. Some strange part of you wished he stayed with you that night, but you knew that thought alone made you a bad pet, wanting anyone other than the people you belonged to. 

But the thing was, the more warmth Mr. Riley showed you, the colder the Price's home felt, because even after all that time, it wasn’t really your home. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Loud music and even louder people caged you into that VIP room, suffocating you to the point you nearly passed out. It didn’t help that Mrs. Price had dressed you up like her personal doll, slathering makeup on your face and throwing you in a skimpy dress, you hardly recognized yourself in the mirror. And still, despite it, Mr. Riley had found you and settled on the spot next to you in the conversation pit. 

“Mr. Riley,” you greeted as you uncomfortably pulled at the skirt of your dress. 

“Mrs. Price dress you up in that?” he asked.

You half expected him to wrap his arm around you like he did every other time the two of you were close to one another, but he didn’t. Perhaps there were too many prying eyes nearby and he didn’t want to spark any rumors. Either way, his presence alone was comforting enough. You always hated going to Mr. Price’s club, and that night was no exception. Too loud, too many eyes, you were always out of place. 

“Was it that obvious?” you asked with a half-hearted chuckle. 

“Just doesn’t seem like you,” he responded gruffly. 

Of course not. Extravagant things weren’t meant for a pet. “Yeah. Probably not.” 

Even from a distance you could still make out the faint scent of him. That warm musk mixed with tobacco had started to smell like home. And it was wrong, you were sure of it by that point. At what point did Mr. Riley become more comforting than the man and woman you lived with? But at that moment, with so many people crowding you, you didn’t care. Closing your eyes, you blocked out everything else around you except for him. There was no music, no mingling guests, no rancid scent of alcohol; it was just you and him. 

Until the sudden sound of clapping brought you back to reality, anyway. Your eyes shot open and you were met with the same view as before, just more still. A quick glance around revealed everyone staring at Mr. and Mrs. Price, who stood at the front of the room, all cooing and cheering and clapping for them. They held one another as a few people rushed up to talk to them, where you heard squealing and several pats on the back. Confused, you turned to Simon with your head tilted to the side like a curious dog. 

“What happened?” you asked. 

With a simple nod of his head, Mr. Riley gestured up to the couple at the front of the room. “They just announced Mrs. Price’s pregnancy,” he said. 

Those words left his mouth so simply. So nonchalantly. As if you should have known. 

You should have known. But you didn’t. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, they didn’t really love you. 

You’d forgotten the first and only rule.

You didn’t know how you ended up on the terrace, you just stopped running when the cold night air hit your skin. Despite the way your tears muddled your vision, everything became painfully clear. This was their plan all along. To get pregnant, to start their life and continue it without you. It’s why they never kissed you, only ever played with you, refused to fuck each other in your presence; you were always meant to be disposable. Why continue to take care of a pet with a child on the way? 

And it hurt because you knew you’d never have that. Never obtain that unconditional love, a kiss on the lips, a cock in your cunt, a child in your arms, because you had been the Price’s plaything. Their pet who never dared to bare her teeth. You’d never be the sweet little wife, only some poor, skittish animal that only knew how to play. But you craved it so bad you swore you’d die. You wanted to be someone’s wife, someone’s lover, to be loved, to have kids and a home that wasn’t cold as ice. 

That life just wasn’t for you.

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Somehow, Mr. Riley always seemed to find you. It was as if some invisible string had been tied between the two of you, and no matter how knotted it got he would always make his way back to you. Unsure if you should welcome his presence or not, you kept your hands firmly on the terrace railing and your red eyes focused out on the city in front of you. Your tears blurred the sparkling lights so much that you could nearly confuse them with stars if you squinted hard enough, yet that realization did nothing to quell the anxiety and terror that ate away at your stomach. 

“I’m alright,” you pitifully assured, although you weren’t too convincing. 

Mr. Riley’s hand touched the exposed skin of your back where his thumb started to rub small circles into your flesh. You nearly crumbled at the contact as you were drowned in the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at him, to beg to be loved even if only for a short while. Instead, your grip on the railing only tightened as you focused all your energy into not letting another tear fall. 

“John told me to watch you for the night. Take you back to my place,” he said softly. 

His words weren’t surprising. Sending you off to spend the night with him was just the next step to getting rid of you. Why would they want you in the home when they’d have someone new to prepare for? You were certain your room would be turned into a nursery before long. After a moment, you turned to face him and you did your best to muster your strongest of smiles as you ignored the stinging behind your eyes. He looked at you with such pity that you nearly broke into tears once more. 

“Lead the way.”

It had been so long since you had visited someone that you forgot what it was like to walk into a room and not have every inch of it memorized. Mr. Riley’s apartment was something you didn’t recognize, yet it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. In a vague sort of way, it smelled like him, and that was enough to calm your nerves and silence the pain that festered in your stomach. It was rather plain as far as decorations went, but it was cozy and warmer than anyplace else you had been for quite some time, and that was more than enough for you. 

First order of business was getting you a glass of water, something Mr. Riley took care of right away. Such a small gesture, and yet it had your heart swelling in an odd and unfamiliar way. Still, you were thankful for something to soothe your sore throat, and the two of you sat in silence on the couch as he ensured that you drank every last drop. 

“Do you wanna change into somethin’ more comfortable?” he questioned when you handed him your empty glass. 

“I don’t… have a change of clothes,” you said meekly. 

“You can wear some of mine,” he insisted.

Something within you wanted to decline. Wearing his clothes certainly broke some sort of rule, and you doubted that the Prices would be happy with you for it. But then there was a pang of sorrow that echoed throughout your chest, a painful reminder that you no longer belonged to them, and probably hadn’t for quite some time. 

Like a lost dog, you followed behind Mr. Riley until you reached his bedroom. His bed was bigger than you had anticipated it to be, significantly bigger than yours, and it was well made. A dark duvet covered the expanse of the mattress, and when you sat on the edge of it you sunk into it as if it welcomed you home. Maybe if you laid back on it you could fall asleep and never have to face the painful truth of the reality you found yourself trapped in. 

It didn’t take him long to fish out a simple shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts for you to change into, but when Mr. Riley turned to face you, it was as if he had turned to stone. Maybe it was the tear-smudged makeup stains on your face, or the fact that he hadn’t seen you look so content until you sat there on his bed, but he looked at you with such intense pity your chest ached. Eventually he got his body to listen to him and he carefully approached you and set the clothes on the mattress next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” he said unprompted. 

“For what?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together. 

“That they abandoned you.” 

Hearing it outloud was more excruciating than the initial realization. Abandoned. Tossed aside. Just a spare. Your chest ached so fiercely it felt as if your body split in two, and there was nothing you could do to stop the tears and sobs from flowing forth. It was pitiful and pathetic, and you hated how terribly small you felt. There were so many tears inside of you that you could wipe the earth clean with them, yet as you cried you didn’t feel any less dirty or used. 

Then the bed sunk down next to you, and instead of sitting on the mattress you had been scooped up into Mr. Riley’s arms and into his lap. His arms were the only thing that held you together in that moment, and he carefully tucked you underneath his chin and squeezed all the sorrow from your body. A cautious kiss pressed into the top of your head, slow and wary as if the very act itself was forbidden. When you didn’t protest, he kissed again, and then again, as if he couldn’t get enough. It was the closest thing to being loved you ever felt, and that realization only broke you further. 

“I just… I just wanted what they have,” you admitted once your sobs had dwindled to small hiccups. “I always thought that they’d let me be a part of it eventually. But I’ve been waiting so long and then… then they get pregnant without telling me and I realized I’ll never be good enough. Never enough to be kissed, or held, or loved. That’s all I wanted.” 

After placing one final kiss against the top of your head, Mr. Riley carefully moved your face away from his chest to tilt your head up to force you to look at him. Irritated from crying, your eyes were a bright pink shade, and so terribly swollen you had difficulty opening them fully. Still, his thumb smoothed over your mascara-stained cheek and you felt his grip grow tighter around you. 

“You deserve so much more than what they did to you,” he whispered, his whisky scented breath fanned across your face. “They were selfish, yeah? Dunno how they could be. First time I laid eyes on you I wanted you. Wanted to love you, to prove that you’re worthy of it.”

A few more fat tears rolled down your cheeks at his words just for him to quickly wipe them away. You had never received such kind and comforting words from anyone before, least of all the Prices. But his words held meaning, you knew they did. How could he look at you so softly and lie? No, it was impossible. His words were true and you could feel your want grow in the dark cavern of your stomach. 

“Mr. Riley…” you said at a loss for anything to say.

“Simon,” he corrected. “Say my name and I’m all yours, sweetheart. I’ll give you that love, that life, you deserve.” 

Maybe it was wrong to want him as badly as you did. Something dark and primal inside of you craved him and every inch of his tattooed skin, and yet you felt shame for feeling so. But why? You had been abandoned. A bit of comfort was the least bit you deserved. 

“Simon,” you whispered.

His lips crashed into yours not even a second later, and the feeling nearly had you sobbing into his mouth. It felt so pure, so overwhelming. Finally, you could taste someone. Taste the spice of whiskey and the smoke of cigarettes rather than just the salt from your tears. By instinct your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled yourself closer to him as if you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were nestled in the warmth of his chest inside of his ribcage. 

Eventually, your bodies collided with the mattress and you found yourself caged in by Simon’s arms as he hovered over you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you felt him groan into you like he had never had such a tasty meal. Then his lips began to wander, and he kissed along your jawline, neck, and further down to your stomach. It was the first time someone kissed your body and it felt like you were being given something rather than having something taken away. 

“So gorgeous,” he whispered against your stomach. His hands dipped underneath the short skirt of your dress and pushed it up over your hips, exposing your panties. You let out a shaky breath as he kissed your clit through your underwear, and you realized you had never had someone’s mouth on you like that before. “Wanna taste you, sweetheart. Tell me I can.” 

It was strange to have someone ask permission before doing something with you, and you felt your throat grow dry at the thought. Strange emotions swirled like a storm in your head where sorrow mixed with desire among other terrible conflicting emotions, and all you could muster was a simple nod. You just wanted it all to stop, for him to take away the pain no matter the cost. 

“Need you to use your words,” Simon mumbled against your heat. 

“Yes!” you spoke. The word erupted out of you with little regard for any of those confusing feelings muddling your mind. “Please…”

With a swift yank Simon pulled your panties past the swell of your hips and you raised your legs into the air to let him pull them fully off of you. After tossing them somewhere behind him, he lowered himself onto the mattress and kissed your cunt once more, this time fully bare, which sent a jolt throughout your body. He hardly gave himself the time to admire your body before his tongue began to greedily swipe along your clit. It felt so foreign and unfamiliar yet so intense you found your legs instinctively squeezing shut. Simon only chuckled against you as he pressed his hands on the inside of your thighs to keep himself from suffocating too soon. 

There was nothing you could do to stop the way your back arched off the bed in pure bliss. Already he had given you more pleasure in a few moments than you had received in your entire relationship with the Prices, and you bit into your lip as you mumbled out sweet nothings into the heavy air above you. Once you had grown wet enough with his spit and your own arousal, Simon carefully slipped a finger into your heat and you gasped at the sensation. You had never felt so full before and your muscles pulsed around him in greedy response. Despite all the pain and heartache you experienced that night, nothing could drown out the overwhelming mantra of more that reverberated throughout your entire body. 

When Simon pulled away from you, your first instinct was to sit up and pull him back to you, but you paused when you saw the way he looked at you. Dark, heavy eyes pierced through you, and you watched in awe as he sat back and slid his shirt off his body in one swift motion. He was so big. Hardened muscle covered with a thick layer of skin and healthy layer of fat, he collapsed on top of you where his lips were on yours once more. His taste was different this time. It wasn’t just whiskey and cigarettes. There was this earthy sapor mixed with it, and it took you a moment to realize that you tasted yourself on his lips. 

Then something ripped. Threads of cloth tore a part, and you realized you could no longer feel the dress around your body anymore. Whatever clothing you had worn had been replaced by Simon’s chest pressing against yours, and the skin to skin contact made your head spin. 

“Don’t need that anymore,” Simon mumbled against your lips. “Don’t need anythin’ of theirs anymore, yeah?” 

You nodded in agreement until you remembered what he said earlier about using your words. “Yeah,” you breathed. 

His lips descended down to the soft tissue of your neck while he started to grind his hips against yours. The rough fabric of his jeans were all too stimulating against your needy and swollen clit, and you whined into Simon’s neck as you writhed underneath him. 

“Do you want more?” he asked as he continued to grind his hardening bulge against your sex. “I’ll give you anythin’. Just gotta ask for it.” 

“You,” you blurted out without so much as a second thought. “Please Simon, I need you.”

There was no more time to waste. With one hand, Simon reached down and unzipped his pants where he released his painfully hardened cock. You felt as he teasingly ran his leaky tip along your slit, smearing precum against you until he carefully dipped down into your hole. Hardly even an inch inside of you and you realized he was significantly girthier than his fingers were, and you found your head falling back against the mattress with a moan at the stretch of him. 

“So goddamn perfect,” Simon grunted as he continued to push deeper and deeper into you. “Gonna give you the whole world. Anythin’ you want. Deserve so much more than them, fuckin’ christ, sweetheart.” 

More tears poured down your face by the time he bottomed out. It was all just too much, so much anguish and love melding into one confusing feeling in your mind. Yet Simon kissed away every single tear as he began to carefully thrust into you. Each time he moved in you an all consuming wave of pleasure rippled through your body, forcing moans to mix in with your cries in some sort of lamentable symphony. 

“I know, I know,” Simon cooed as he placed a fat kiss against your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah? My girl. Gonna treat you properly. I’ve got you, love.” 

Through it all, he was so soft with you, so warm, and you felt that heat begin to pool in your stomach. Every thrust into you marked you, it scratched away the essence of everything the Prices had done to you, what they didn’t do to you. Every empty space that had collected dust inside of you was filled by Simon and the searing passion he pumped into you. That was all you had ever wanted. To be seen, to be touched, to be loved. You had finally found it. 

When you came, you did so with a sob. Muscles seized and you wrapped your arms so tightly around Simon’s neck he had no choice but to collapse against your chest as he continued to thrust into you. Your tears soaked into his hair as you sloppily kissed the top of his head, body still craving more of him despite the endorphins that ravaged your body. 

“There she is,” Simon sighed, his voice a low rumble. “Doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you begged. “I need it. Need you to come, please Simon.” 

Your plea sent him toppling over the edge and he slammed his hips against you one final time before he held himself there with a thick and strained groan. His cock twitching inside you was an unfamiliar feeling and yet you relished the way he filled you, warm cum soothing an ache only he could tame. Your grip around his neck loosened as you felt yourself melt into the duvet. All that pleasure, that love, finally got your mind to fall quiet. 

Once Simon managed to catch his breath, he gently pulled out of you before falling next to you. Strong arms maneuvered you onto your side where he pulled you against his chest where he held you firmly against him. As usual, his heart pounded strong and steady in his chest, and the longer the two of you laid there the more calm it grew. Whatever tears you needed to cry had all fallen, and there was nothing but pure bliss that settled over you as you nuzzled against his body. 

“I love you,” Simon said. He said it softly, as if it was a secret. Something special that only you could know. 

You couldn’t remember the last time someone whispered that phrase to you. 

“I love you, too.” 

That night was the first night in years that you didn’t fall asleep alone, and when you woke up you realized it wasn’t a dream. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around you throughout the night, and you woke to the scent of his musk and you couldn’t help but smile. Really smile. It was real and you were there and you were loved. You buried your face further into his chest and he reacted in kind by pulling you closer. 

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he hummed. 

Humming back, you stretched your limbs with a groan that left him chuckling and he placed a quick kiss on your forehead. He sat up in bed and pulled away from you, which left you whining, until he reached down towards the foot of the bed to grab the clothes you weren’t able to change into the previous night. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” he questioned as he handed you his shirt. 

Such a simple question, really, and yet it felt so much more important than that. This was the conversation lovers had in the morning. Contemplating, you took the clothes from him and set them beside you as you tilted your head and shrugged. “Whatever you feel like making.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, crooked and scarred, as he glanced toward the bedroom door for a short moment before his attention returned to you. “Alright, I’ll go get started. Take your time, yeah?” 

Simon Riley made you feel like a princess and you held nothing in your heart for him but adoration as you watched him slip out of the room, still half naked. Just like he had said, you took your time getting ready, and even then it still wasn’t all that long. You fixed up your appearance as best as you could without a mirror before slipping his shirt over your head. It was long enough that it fell down to your mid thighs, and because of that you didn’t bother with the shorts, or your still slightly damp underwear from the night before, either. 

Sizzling bacon and freshly warmed toast greeted you by the time you meandered into the living room, and you smiled to yourself at the sight of Simon cooking in the kitchen. You drooled at the way the sinewy muscles in his back flexed as he worked, and you couldn’t fight away that odd arousal that bloomed between your legs. Deciding that it was a good idea to get some food in your system before attempting to initiate anything physically demanding, you instead sat yourself on the couch.

Your phone sat face down on the coffee table in front of you, and your stomach dropped at the sight of it. Something twisted in your gut at the thought of unlocking it and seeing no messages, at realizing just how little the Prices surely missed you. Yet, you needed to bite the bullet. How were you supposed to start your new life with Simon if you were still holding onto the ghosts of your past? 

With a shaky hand, you reached for the item and quickly turned it on. You prepared yourself for its mocking screen, for the heartbreak you knew you would be able to mend later, and yet it still wasn’t enough. Nothing could have readied you for the twenty missed phone calls and the countless texts from both Mr. and Mrs. Price. Begging to know where you were at. Asking if you were safe. Pleading with you to come home. Saying that if you hadn’t responded by noon they would call the cops in fear that the worst had happened to you. 

Your throat dried out and you couldn’t stop your lips from trembling. Why did they do that? Was it supposed to be some sort of sick joke? Proof that no matter how far away from them you got you could never escape the hold they had on you? No, you listened to the voicemails. Listened to the way Mrs. Price’s voice quivered when asking if you were alright, when she begged you to come home, and you nearly sobbed. 

Something was wrong.

“Simon?” you asked as you snuck into the kitchen behind him. 

“Yeah?” he asked as he turned around to face you. 

He froze the moment he saw your face. He could read the trepidation on your face as if it were the morning paper, and he quickly placed down his cooking utensils. You hated the way he looked at you with such care and yet with some sort of knowledge, as if he already predicted what you were about to ask him. 

“Did you lie to me last night? About Mr. Price asking you to take me home with you?” you asked.

“Yes.” 

His response came quick and without hesitation and that almost made things worse. You wished he had paused for a moment to think about the way that word would shatter you, and yet he didn’t. Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes and you found your face falling into your hands in disbelief. He lied to you. He fucking lied. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked as his hands brushed against your shoulders. 

“They’re going to be so mad at me,” you cried as you pressed your palms into your eyes. It had to be a cruel joke. You wished it was. They hadn’t given you up at all, and you were going to have to pay the price for betraying their trust. 

“Hey… hey, look at me,” Simon ordered as he pulled your hands from your face. The way his hands engulfed your wrists was almost laughable, and you didn’t bother to fight against him. “I thought we agreed that you’re mine now. You’re mine, and I’m yours, yeah?”

“But you lied,” you retorted. 

“They were neglectin’ you!” he corrected, and his voice boomed with such strength you nearly cowered. “Would you have followed me if I hadn’t said that to you last night? Or would you be stuck in that house with partners who wouldn’t even tell you that they were havin’ a damn kid? No, you’re mine now.” 

One of his hands dropped down between your legs, and you gasped as your back came in contact with the counter. He palmed at your naked cunt, felt the way his cum oozed out of you at the gentle pressure of his fingers and the sudden tensing of your muscles. 

“Do you really think they love you enough to take you back like this? With my cum inside of you and the taste of you still on my tongue?” he questioned. “I did what I did to save you. I was tired of seein’ them treat you like that. I’m not lettin’ that happen again.” 

Words failed you and all you could do was stare up at him and cry. It was all so wrong and yet something in the back of your mind screamed that he was right. He was right because in one night he had given you everything you had all but begged of them to do for you in all the years you had been together. Even if they still wanted you, maybe they really didn’t deserve you. But you would still have to face them eventually. Admit that you were running away, that you didn’t belong to them anymore, and that thought terrified you.

Giving up, you collapsed against him and allowed all your anguish to spew from your eyes. Just like the previous night, his hold on you was strong and caring, and he did so without hesitation. After all, you were his girl. He saved you, and he had no intention of letting you go. 

[bucketofpaint]

Dp x Dc Bad parents with a twist.

The Fentons find out about Danny being Phantom. Either from Vlad or just randomly. They take it badly. They think Phantom is possessing him, but they think they can "save" him. Unfortunately, the GIW think otherwise and want to destroy their son. So what do they do? They erase all signs of their existence in Amity and wiping every article and study they ever had on ghost. Then they packed up and moved to Gotham in the middle of the night. Cutting Danny off from his friends and Jazz (due to her being at college and disagreeing with them). Vlad and the Fentons become business partners. Publicly, the three work together making and marketing inventions. while privately trying to 'fix' Danny on the side.

Danny has to wear an upgraded specter deflector, which is a thin metal bracelet.

Having half of himself offline for a long period of time has been causing his physical health to decline. That and the experiments his parents have been performing on him. No full-blown vivisection. He also gets anesthesia because they believe the Danny can still feel.

It wasn't long for the people of Gotham to start to talk about Vlad Co's new business partners and their sickly son. It wasn't long after for Bruce Wayne to gain some interest as well.

The first time Bruce met the Fentons was at a gala with Masters introducing them. Jack, Maddie, and Their son. He was also able to observe that he looked more sickly in person. With deep eye bags, pale skin, and how thin he was. It made Bruce's heart ache thinking what the boy about Tim's age had been having to endure.

The conversation contuied. Danny nervously fidgeting, only giving curt responses. Mr Fenton laughed, joking about how Danny didn't like fancy events. He excused Danny, telling him to grab something to eat. Danny nodded and rushed away, grabbing food and settling down in a nestled in a far back conner.

Bruce continued talking to the enthusiastic pair, talking glances at the boy occasionally. He felt some of his tension relax when spotting Tim taking a seat near Danny.

After the gala Tim and Bruce got together and compared notes. They both came to one conclusion.

They needed to find out more.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 1)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

It was about four months ago when you met him, this blue-eyed stranger who would change your life forever. It was as if you had stepped into the unknown, shedding your old, familiar skin. He made your head spin with his charm and allure for the unknown.

When you talked to him for the very first time, it was as if you had known each other for years. He listened to you, and you felt as though he truly understood who you were and what you needed in life.

Despite being over 12 years older than you , Thomas Shelby made you feel safe and wanted, desired and accepted. You never felt such a connection to someone who had such an intense personality as Thomas and, most importantly for all, he showed you respect.

Thomas (or Tommy as you called him) was a wealthy business man from Birmingham and whilst you did not know much about his business activities, you knew that he was responsible for import and export of goods such Tabacco and cars.

With both of your parents not having survived the sinking of the Titanic, you had no one but yourself to stand up for and take care of yourself until Tommy came into your life.

He took you in and took care of you a few months ago, admiring your inner strength and determination to overcome all the challenges that life had thrown at you ever since you had turned 16, which was almost three years before you met him, your soon to be husband.

You were 19 years old when you met the 32-year-old in a pub named the Garrison shortly after you had started working there behind the bar. That night, Tommy had saved you from some unwanted attention from some other patrons and as you sat together that night, your connection was undeniable, palpable. Every guess or gut feeling you had ever had about your future guesses or dreams was confirmed in an instant. This was the moment that would change it all.

Fast-forward a bit and soon you found yourself living in Tommy's mansion, which you had yet to fully discover. The mansion was home to your own magnificent bedroom, Surreal wallpapers, wax-leafed walls, brass fixtures, and white porcelain handles.

It was surreal coming from almost living on the street to this and when Tommy asked you to marry him a few weeks ago,  you accepted blindly only thinking of the safety and love he gave you.

The wedding ceremony itself was small, with only some of his family in attendance. You were his second wife; his first wife having died four years ago and this was something that did not bother you. You accepted him with all as his baggage, just as he accepted you.

***

Having respected your wishes not to engage in any sexual activities before marriage, you two waited for the big night, anticipating the pleasure of having each other's bodies.

Tommy had told you through the weeks leading up to your wedding day that he would be gentle, as he assumed you were still a virgin and had no experience with men. He also told you that he would teach you everything there was to know about sex, which was a prospect that excited you. 

You knew that being abstinent for more than four months, must have been difficult for a man his age, and you couldn't help but admire him for his respect towards you and your decision to wait until your wedding night.

Unlike many other men, he said that he had no interest in the services of prostitutes and you believed him. He showed you that intimacy was not just about sex but more about the emotional connection between two people. But as each day passed, the tension between you two grew stronger and stronger.

The big night finally arrived. You had taken a bath, washing your whole body using a lavender-scented soap and then slid your body gently into a silky nightgown that you had bought in an expensive store downtown especially for you wedding night. As you looked at the mirror, you could not help but feel a bit nervous.

Tommy knocked gently on your door and after a short moment, he opened it up.

As you stood there in your nightgown, he couldn't help but stare. His eyes wandered over every bit of your body, and you could see the hunger in his eyes from a mile away.

Approaching you, he gently took your hand and drew you closer to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, making your core tighten. 

"You are beautiful, Love," Thomas whispered in your ear, brushing a loose tendril of hair from your face, his breath warm against your skin.

He then took hold of your left hand again and tenderly kissed your wedding ring – a token of your eternal love. Your heart raced and your nerves tingled at his tender display of affection. Your cheeks felt flushed and the room seemed to be spinning as the moment you'd been waiting for your entire life was finally about to happen.

Your hands felt clammy and you were struggling to find the words to respond to the man you'd married.

"Tommy," you gasped. "I want you," you stammered, looking up into his sharp, handsome face.

He caught your gaze with a knowing smile. "Good, because I want you too," Thomas said, with his eyes blazing and expectant.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt yourself being swept away on a tide of anticipation and desire.

Thomas stood in front of you, his fingers tracing the outline of your delicate collarbone.

He leaned in to softly kiss your quivering lips. His tongue danced upon yours for a mere moment before he pulled away. Slowly, he unbuttoned your night dress and let it fall gently to the floor, revealing your perky, young breasts to the cool air of the bedroom.

He took a moment to admire your inexperienced and vulnerable beauty before he began to trail kisses down your neck, across your chest, and onto your sensitive nipples.

"Oh God," you gasped, your hands clenching in his thick, dark hair as he teased you with his mouth.

"You like that, do you?" Thomas whispered, a wicked grin on his face.

The heat between your thighs became unbearable. You wanted him to do more, to touch you there, to do away with the last scraps of clothing that separated you from the man you married.

"Why don't you lie down for me, Love?" Thomas suggested, as he began to remove his own clothes.

You nodded eagerly, unable to find your voice in the intensity of the moment. Your breath hitched as you watched him undress. His muscled chest and chiseled abdomen were revealed to you as he shed his shirt, and your mouth went dry as he removed his trousers to stand proudly before you.

You laid back against the plush, velvet pillows, feeling self-conscious about your own nakedness in front of such a strong, confident man.

You noticed that his member stood tall and rigid, ready to claim you as his.

"Stop looking at my cock and lay back, Sweetheart," Thomas chuckled, sensing your discomfort. "I promise I won't hurt you," he then reassured you and you swallowed hard, nodding in compliance as you scooted further up on the bed.

Thomas followed, crawling up the bed with a seductive grace. He settled between your thighs and you trembled with anticipation.

"Open for me," Thomas whispered, his fingers lightly tracing your slick folds.

You whimpered at the sensation of his touch, your body tensing as he explored you intimately. Slowly, you obeyed his demand and allowed your legs to fall open. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also safe in Thomas' arms, which held you with a protectiveness you needed in this new and uncertain moment.

"Good girl," Thomas praised, his fingers circling your clit with a tantalizing slowness. "You are already so nice and wet for me, eh?"  Thomas whispered, a suggestive smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as Thomas began to circle your clit with his thumb, all the while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.

"You are so beautiful Y/N. I am a lucky man," Thomas murmured, sensing your pleasure at his touch.

You nodded again, too caught up in the euphoria of the moment to find your voice.

Thomas began to thrust his fingers back and forth, his thumb continuing to rub your clit in slow, steady circles.

You threw your head back and moaned, your hips moving with a mind of their own. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting close to the edge.

"Let go for me, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let yourself go. I promise you'll enjoy it."

With those words, something inside of you snapped. You closed your eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over you, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

"That's it," Thomas murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. "That's my good girl. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart," Thomas said, his voice thick with lust as he brushed a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead.

You smiled weakly, still catching your breath after the powerful release you had just experienced. You had never felt anything like that before and you couldn't believe how intensely Thomas had been able to make you feel.

"I love you Tommy ," you whispered, half-ashamed of the needy tone in your voice.

Thomas kissed you softly, his lips tasting of salt and lust. "I love you too, my wife," he said, before his hand started to wander down your body again.

His fingers found your wetness once more and he stroked you gently before, finally, climbing on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Love," Thomas whispered, his breath hot against your cheek as he teased your entrance with his tip.

"Please be gentle , Tommy," you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size and intensity of Thomas' manhood.

He nodded, his eyes blazing with desire. "Of course, Sweetheart. I'll be as gentle as I can," he said and, with that, he slowly began to push himself inside of you.

You gasped at the initial pain and pressure of his penetration, clutching onto the sheets as he filled you up completely.

Thomas paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Are you alright, Love?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you tried to relax and accommodate his girth.

"Yes, I'm okay," you assured him, and Thomas began to thrust in and out of you with slow, deliberate movements.

At first, it felt foreign and slightly painful, but as Thomas' rhythm gradually picked up speed, your discomfort gave way to a growing sense of pleasure and desire.

"You feel so good, Sweetheart," Thomas groaned, as he plunged deeper and deeper inside of you.

Your legs wrapped around Thomas' waist, drawing him closer still, as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

You had never experienced such intense pleasure before, and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to the precipice of climax.

You clung to Thomas, your fingernails digging into the taut muscles of his back as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"Oh, God, Tommy," you panted, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "I think I'm going to cum again."

Thomas' eyes blazed with a fierce hunger as he drove himself deeper inside of you, your bodies slapping together in a primal dance.

"That's right, Love. Cum for me," Thomas growled, his voice low and husky.

"I want to feel you tighten around me, Love. I want to hear you scream my name while I make you come."

With those filthy words, Thomas thrust deeper and harder into you, sending wave after wave of pulsating pleasure surging through your body.

"Yes, Tommy! Yes!" you screamed, your voice mingling with his deep, guttural grunts.

"Fuck, you feel so tight and warm. So fucking good," Thomas groaned, sweat dripping from his brow as he plunged into your depths again and again.

"Don't cum inside me ," you gasped, suddenly remembering a crucial detail as you had previously discussed that you were not yet ready to have children with him. 

"I won't," Thomas groaned. "But I need to feel you a little longer. You just feel too good around my cock, Love," Thomas pleaded as he continued to drive himself in and out of you with wild, untamed passion.

You could feel another orgasm building within you, and you knew it would be powerful. You wanted to hold off for as long as possible, wanting to savor every exquisite sensation that Thomas was eliciting from your hyper-sensitive body.

But your pleasure took over and you succumbed to the tidal wave of ecstasy that washed over you. You screamed his name as you squeezed your thighs around his flexing hips.

"Good girl," Thomas panted in your ear, swirling his hips as he forced yet another powerful orgasm from your aching flesh. "So good. So, so fucking good."

You arched your back and collapsed against the bed, trembling beneath him as pain, pleasure, shame and wonderment coursed through your veins like liquid fire.

"Fuck, I am going to cum," Thomas groaned, the thickness of his cock throbbing within you before pulling out quickly and spraying sticky streaks of semen over your stomach, breasts, and bedsheets.

Both of you were breathing heavily as the room filled with the scent of your mutual pleasure, stocks damp with your fluids and mixed with the evidence of his release on your skin.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments, enjoying the quiet moment of contentment that came on the heels of such intense satisfaction.

Thomas broke the silence, removing evidence of his release from your body, as one would clean a precious piece of artwork after its masterpiece was finished.

"Did I hurt you, Love?" Thomas asked, his eyes softening as they met yours.

"No, I-I wanted that," you admitted, your body still shivering from the intense pleasure. "It was perfect," you told him, and he smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly, recalling how long he wanted to do this. 

Unbeknownst to you, he had been wanting you for many years and now, finally, you were his. His wife. His possession. His triumph.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

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[koiiiji]

being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈౨ৎ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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[shaunamilfman]

Friends With Benefits to Lovers HCs

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader

girl 100% is like, “lets keep it casual” and is on your instagram scrolling through your following to see if there’s any hot girls the next day. scrolling through posts and reporting any comment on your page that’s slightly flirty. she’s putting in work.

makes little jealous remarks about any potential girlfriend in your life, even if you’ve barely spoken to them. Jackie quizzes you about them by name and will not accept the answer that you didn’t even know their names in the first place.

trust that she will pop out of nowhere anytime you’re talking to a girl ever. Jackie couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag, but she will find you in 0.2 seconds if someone walks up to you. grabbing onto your arm and resting her head against it just staring at whoever it is until they go away.

Jackie is suddenly all over you. she’s so very clingy and can not get enough of being in your presence. asks you for a hug and then holds on for ten minutes at a time. refuses to move, no matter what. if you have to move for some reason, she’s trying to convince you that you can just shuffle over there together. absolutely ridiculous about it.

calls you constantly to talk about the smallest aspect of her day. she’s going into detail, and there will be a quiz at the end. so you better be ready for it. even if it's trivial, she wants you to know about it and all the stupidly small aspects of your day. she really is interested in knowing that your lunch was too cold by the time you got to eat it.

small little smiles she saves just for you. insists she looks at all of her friends like that, but you’re not buying it. especially because she never looked at you like that before you started hooking up. 

texts you every single night to say good night and every single morning like clock work. she’s never texted someone before Shauna before. it feels a little strange, even. double, triple, quadruple texting if you don’t respond to her quick enough. you better not fall asleep before her because her ass will wake you up calling.

casually possessive in ways she feels like she can get away with. steals all your clothes and keeps leaving her hair tie on your wrist or something. she wants it known, but deniability is important.

starts calling things “ours” instead of “mine” or “yours.” funny enough, it always seems to be your stuff that becomes ours.

invites you out to dinner and forgets her money so you have to pay for it. looks over at you and is like, “wow it’s almost like a date.“

very physically affectionate. it’s not something entirely out of left field because she’s always been the most affectionate of all your friends, but this is another level entirely. casual touches whenever she passes by: a hand brushing against your shoulder, or against your waist as she walks behind you. wraps her arms around your shoulders and rests her head against yours whenever she catches you standing still for too long. sitting in your lap as she pulls out her phone to show you something that reminded her of you.

shows up unannounced at your place all the time with flimsy excuses. claims she needs help with homework or wants to go over practice drills, but it’s obvious she just wants to spend time with you. it gets to the point where she just shrugs and throws herself down on your bed without even offering one.

overly invested, pointed questions about your dating life. keeps talking about how she would hate to get in the way if you were trying to be serious about someone, but is visibly relieved whenever you say you weren’t seeing anyone else.

does little things to make your life easier and is overjoyed whenever you notice and thank her for them. your favorite snacks are in your bag, the water bottle you always forget to take to practice, and the textbook you left at her house.

strategically leaves her things in your room to see if you call her out on it. she's got three days worth of clothes in your closet, half your dresser, and is pushing your stuff towards the edge of your bathroom sink before you finally put your foot down.

tries to play cool but is so embarrassingly bad at it.

talking to the other girls like, “yeah…ha ha, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.” and keeps looking at you to see how you’re going to react.

never officially asks you out. just starts calling herself your girlfriend one day and expects you to go along with it. after all, why wouldn’t you?

[cupids-chamber]

♡. WHEN CROWLEY DECIDES that the boy's need a dosage of learning to prepare for the 'future' and sets everyone up in pairs to take care of a fake baby that mimics a real one. @ ; Gender neutral reader / Crack (In some parts) / Fluff ## heartslabyul + pomefiore + octavinelle / scarabia + savanaclaw + diasomnia

. ACE TRAPPOLA ; “Why does this gremlin look like us?” he asks nonchalantly, waving his hands towards the baby. The child looked way too real to be fake, though Crowley had informed everyone beforehand that the child was in fact fake, and was made to take after its caretakers.. They seemed real.. And you wouldn’t put it past Crowley to kidnap a couple thousand kids, I mean he technically did the same to you.. So it can’t be that uncommon.. Plus it would save him some cash if he actually did that. 

The baby was asleep when it first came into your possession. You swear you saw Ace lose his sanity a tad bit when it first cried, that should have been a red flag.. Alongside his literal meltdown when he was confused as to what he should do, you watched and humored his worries, by putting needless concern and teasing him. You swear you saw him take a breath of pure relief when the child stopped crying and began drinking its milk. 

The child indefinitely had insomnia because it just wouldn’t fucking let you two sleep.. At all.. Ace wanted to commit a crime, he thought it would be peaceful having a month off classes.. And since the child was fake it would all end well, Right? Wrong. The baby was artificially designed to look exactly like the two of you, which was bad because you couldn’t help but grow attached to it.. And that wasn’t the worst part, It acted like a real child.. and functioned like one too. You were now 99% sure Crowley kidnapped a bunch of orphaned newborns and put a sort of disguise spell on it.

The two of you even named the kid.. Well Ace just continued to call it a little gremlin, and you ended up joining him. It was much easier, and well.. The child was a gremlin.. The child was growing fast, and it was torture. It would pull your hair, tamper with Ace’s make-up. Fuck with your supplies and tools, and was genuine hell to work with. But that’s not to say the child was all bad, it was cute. And the three of you grew quite close together. 

When it was time for your Little gremlin to go, the two of you were completely heartbroken. Over the past month, the two of you grew closer together as a pair, hell Ace even confessed. It was sweet, and now you little gremlin had to leave you both. “WE’LL MISS YOU” you yelled as Crowley took the kid away from you both, sure Crowley was an excellent matchmaker for the two of you but what the fuck?!?

. DEUCE SPADE ; Deuce grew up with care and was surprisingly well trained in the art of taking care of a child, the moment the baby was given to you, it started crying. Yet Deice was fully prepared for this event in advance, it was actually a rather adorable sight. However, you didn't get to view the full scene, as Deuce ushered you away to get your supplies for the baby. 

You heard that the Child was supposedly supposed to take after the two of you, yet a part of you doubted the fact but when Deuce pointed out the similarities you began taking notice of it as well.

Was Deuce an expert child specialist, you weren’t quite sure… But he was exceptionally good at taking care of the little demon that was now in both of your possession. The first few hours went by pretty fine, since Deuce was quite skilled in taking care of children.. You were actually quite shocked when he asked you for help, but the scene was worth it. 

The three of you would play together, go on picnics, and do a bunch more fun stuff; which led to the three of you quickly growing attached together, he even gave the little demon with legs a name. Everything about this experience was fun and enjoyable, and you couldn’t help but grow used to it. Though it was quite odd, the little demon seemed to have quite a lot of patience for a child, you don’t think that was normal. You even asked Deuce about it; he then explained to you how throughout his earlier years, he had been a remarkably calm child to deal with..

When it came time for the two of you to give up your precious child, you swore you could see Deuce shed a tear. And you were quite sure that Crowley purposefully, meticulously planned this event; since he handled taking your demon away from you and turning the device off, much slowly, then the others. 

. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ; Riddle was not ready for this— One normal school day with peace dear heavens.. Mercy on his soul. (Something yuu should be saying but ok Riddle be dramatic mr mommy issues 🙄) Immediately hands the kid over to you, he does not trust himself. And that’s a lot coming out from Riddle the housewarden of Heartslabyul—Himself..

He’s trying.. He truly is.. He’s putting in his best effort.. But his mother didn’t raise him right and he sure as hell is worried that he’ll make a slight mistake in parenting.. Even if the ordeal is fake.. He is 100% inclined to pretend this is in fact real? Why because that monstrosity of a child looks like the both of you and takes after him mostly and that is creepily burdening, almost like Crowley planned this thoughtfully like a well planned, carefully coordinated villain but that cant be it because he slacks in every other fucking field there is. (And Riddle also wants an A) 

Ever had a nagging housewife of your own? No.. well be prepared to have one, because Riddle expects you to get off that high couch and get your fine ass down on the carpet, you both shall dedicate all your time to the baby that obviously took a lot out of him, like imagine waking up and getting handed your child first thing in the morning? Truly the gift of life is so unbearable. WHY ARE YOU STILL ON THE COUCH.

‘Y/n L/n if you do not come out of the goddamn bathroom and join us for this fucking playdate, I will destroy your fucking phone — sincerely Riddle’

Most definitely sends you paragraphs and paragraphs worth of texts and etc, starts acting like a nagging husband. You can’t even tell what's real or not anymore, bro you have to leave your friends with a “I gotta check on my wife” type of goodbye. (He’s not as controlling as he sounds I swear, you both are having fun but he can be.. extra.)

. TREY CLOVER ; Trey and you had actually recently started acting on both your feelings, not necessarily confessed but the two of you were definitely having this flirting session. Like edging into dating but you both haven’t really decided to make things official yet. And as of current times, Trey was giving you some freshly baked cookies catered to your tastes. He loves expressing his feelings through baked goods, giving you sweets, etc as a means to express himself.. And it was at this moment did Crowley end up announcing his stupid bogus plan and idea.. That he most definitely was serious about.

Trey had always given a responsible vibe to you, he just had this aura that radiated.. well.. you couldn't explain it. But you were quite sure that he'd be good with kids... and you were right. Though he did look kind of nervous and worried, he pulled through quite quickly though. He carried the child with shaky arms, and you could swear he was glaring daggers into Crowley. 

The entire class was filled with baby noises and a bunch load of struggling teenage men's voices. It was a funny sight to any normal civilian, and it would be to you too.. If you weren’t suffering the same fate as all the boys in the class. Trey thankfully got a clean pacifier and shut the thing up..

. CATER DIAMOND ; Cater was well.. Um shocked? Taken aback.. Conflicted.. It was hard to tell.. He seemed to have been going through what appears to be the five stages of literal grief in front of you as if it was normal. You were grateful Crowley handed the ‘thing’ to you and not Cater because you doubt in his state, he’d be able to carry the child let alone take care of it.

The three of you were in Cater’s room, and the child sucked on its pacifier as you sat on the edge of the bed; with the kid on your lap, witnessing Cater’s emotional breakdown live. 

“I’m not ready for kids.. I can’t even take care of myself.. nOw KiDs?!/1!/1/!?1//1//1/??!” he babbled on and on, with light curses, and more. 

You raised your hand and explained “Cater you do know.. That this is a project right?” 

“WHEN DID YOU TWO GET HERE?”

. EPEL FELMIER ; Surprisingly skilled in taking care of the little girl you both were given to by the demon that is Crowley, having mainly female figures in his life has presented Epel with outstanding qualities in taking care of children. It was a shocker really, how he was so considerate and able to tell what the child needed. Contrary to his act and front of being manly and his need to prove himself at any given moment, Epel could be so utterly soft and adorable when it came to children. It also didn’t help that the kid looked exactly like a mixture of you both. 

Epel actually shared multiple stories about his time back home, how some of his grandmother's friends would come over and let him babysit their nephews, children, or even grandchildren. They claimed that he had excellent skills when it came to taking care of children, they also teased him alot, claiming that he’d make a great husband in the future. (But he’ll leave that part out in the stories) 

The stories truly explained why he seemed to be so great at taking care of kids. He even taught you some tricks and tricks on how to calm down a kid, some things that maybe you didn’t even know— which made everything all the more interesting. 

“I say we name her Applejack”

“We changed her diaper—gave her food, hell we even read stories and played with her.. Why isn’t she sleeping!” you exclaimed, exceptionally tired as your 5am alarm to check on the baby went off. You sighed, leaning into the armchair on your third cup of coffee that night, this experience is making you dread the idea of kids as a whole.. Why were they so difficult? “Did you give her her pacifier? Also stop drinking coffee dear, have water instead” Epel hands you a cup of water, as you let out a dramatic sigh and then you went on to explain how she keeps on spitting out her pacifier. 

“Let me try; you go and get some rest… you could use it.. !”

. VIL SCHOENHEIT ; Vil Schoenheit was the partner that Crowley had chosen for you, for what reason.. you do not want to know. All you know is that Crewel was yelling at him afterwards, and you only presume he was against the idea just as much as you.. Vil was smart.. But god forbid you work in a group project with the housewarden of Pomefiore.. And unlike before.. This time it was only the two of you.. With an unknown third party who is a literal child. 

I mean— you predicted this much.. Vil had flawless skills in almost everything you’ve so far seen him doing.. Well except that tiny winy (penis) small little conflict with Neige. Thankfully, no problems have so far appeared (in deez nuts) while the two of you were parenting.. And raising.. This.. ‘thing’... you both didn’t name it, and Vil kept calling it little potato. 

You swear Vil was being ultra sus with his lowkey perfect parenting but then he truly came undone (do you get it.. But like… do you get it?) and you for realzies found him tot’s bragging and flexing to a very tired Epel and Rook about his kid. Which is lowkey for realzies not his kid, but you know.

. ROOK HUNT ; It was your first time witnessing Rook actually grow nervous, and at Crowley's announcement no less… Were you expecting anything out of the ordinary today? Not really.. But where Crowley exists there can never be peace. But it was slightly worth it though, watching Rook have an internal meltdown as he held the ‘fake’ child with care. 

It was hilarious, he was stunned, his month hung open and his face was basically a reenactment of: ‘0’, except he was sweating a shit ton as well.. “Rook, do you need me to take the child for now?” Rook immediately snapped out of his trance on queue as he turned away from you. 

Rook, despite being beyond confused and struggling a shit ton to present himself as a normal parent, refused to let you take any of the major workload. It was sweet, but on the first day you vividly remember wearing a suit and greeting the literal baby as if it was a job interview, like “Yes I’ve come to addition for the role of your father little fake ‘child’”

To be honest you weren't quite sure if you could trust him to be in charge of the child..

. AZUL ASHENGROTTO ; Crowley handed the little infant to Azul… Azul. He’s panicking, he’s nervous; his hands get sweaty and shaky, he’s not used to carrying children.. or more so babies.. even if they’re fake.. ‘It’ still behaves and acts like a child, and not to mention how it looks like the carbon copy of you two, is Crowley trying to traumatize the whole of NRC? ‘Well ‘it's’ quite adorable’. 

You quickly and carefully remove the child from Azuls arms, refusing to give it back to him till he’s completely calmed down, he seems rather… taken aback by the entire thing.. Which rightfully so, imagine your headmaster just randomly handing you a child which he claims is fake, that looks and behaves like your partner? It would’ve traumatized anyone really, you’ve just grown rather immune to Crowley’s bullshit. 

Azul was surprisingly good at taking care of the child when needed, he was well coordinated and thoughtful.. He was very responsible and quickly memorized the necessary rules and actions he must do as a child caretaker, you were quite weirded out by the sheer dedication he had.. But Azul is quite the overachiever so it came as no surprise to you. 

The three of you would huddle together and play games with the child in the evening and then read story books together at night, it was fun.. And you even enjoyed your time with the housewarden, his effort was well appreciated as he handled all your little sea shell’s temper tantrums and meltdowns well. You didn’t have to put much of an effort, really. But you did regardless, since.. Well, the child looked so like you it would be weird not too.. It just felt wrong. 

Before you knew it, you two started acting like a divorce couple (Who obviously are still in love) trying to impress their kids and gain more attention from the other. (Floyd wins this game, he keeps stealing you kid.)

. JADE LEECH ; Jade was amused by Crowley's assignment. Questions as to how Crowley had gotten his hands on so many con children that could perfectly impersonate two different students filled his head; while you remained purely horrified by the fact of partnering up with Jade… ‘Does he even know how to manage a child?.. probably…? I mean Floyd most definitely didn’t live on his own.. He would have probably been in jail if he was living alone’

Contrary to your worries Jade had presented himself as a great help to you, he offered to bring the materials you required and more. He even helped set up his dorm room to be more baby proof, and though Floyd’s visits did often bother you and kid… he worked out solutions and helped everything stay in order. 

Hell he even tried recommending a lot of family games and etc, though you had to most graciously decline his offer for a family hiking trip… for mushrooms… (You also had to decline his offer for mushroom flavored baby food)

. FLOYD LEECH ; Floyd surprisingly was very calm.. I mean the two of you were paired not because Crowley chose so, he just grabbed you and your poor fate was decided.. And then the process of manufacturing the realistic dolls went on for a week, you were 100% sure it wasn’t dolls but in fact real babies with dyed hair or a spell on them of sorts, and Crowley just spent the week planning a heist to kidnap the babies. 

Floyd was a surprisingly good parent, not perfect by any means but only Crowley would imagine that a fancy Schmancy college filled with (mostly) privileged wealthy boys would be able to take care of a bunch of kids (Newborn/infants at that).. Hell you heard some rumors that some people got twins and even quadruplets.. (Which added to your baby heist theory)  

Floyd held the bottle to the little eel’s mouth and watched the ‘thing’ drink (you two haven’t gotten a name for it, so you both just call it little eel or eely), while carefully listening to your baby heist theory; providing nods and a bunch of “uh huhs” and “mhms” in response, as you went in tremendous detail with your little white board. 

Also Floyd most definitely flexes his little demon to Jade and disturbs his time with his kid, “Look at my kid, it’s so incredible” energy.(Soccer mom but dad version vibes)

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter four || the proxies

tw: stalker hoodie, hoodies a bit gross in this one ngl, i think this is a fair warning, paranoia, blood, some fluffy shit w tim

i am proud to announce that hitchhiker now has a masterlist with a link to wattpad! find it here!! thank you to everyone who has helped me navigate using other platforms <3

<— previous chapter

Hoodie could understand your appeal.

What he couldn’t understand, was why Tim and Toby had picked you specifically.

Sure, your skin was soft and glowy. Your big innocent doe eyes were doll like. Hoodie’s darker urges craving to see them weep tears under his hand. Although you had overlooked their original odd behavior, was that enough? Were your looks and obliviousness enough to keep you alive?

Hoodie couldn’t understand Toby and Tim’s infatuation with you. It was becoming truly nauseating, sitting through them yapping about you all day long. You were the hottest topic of conversation, the rants about Jeff’s sloppy murders long discarded. Since he couldn’t figure it out, he figured he’d have to do his research.

And every good research session begins the same way: observation.

Hoodie had no issue watching you. He watched as you scrambled to get ready for work, showering so quickly he hardly had time to watch you dry off. He sat perched in an old oak tree across from your building, the overgrown branches and leafs concealing his presence. He noted you truly were oblivious, all of your curtains wide open. Maybe you thought being on the fourth floor saved you from having a peeping tom. In which case, you were terribly wrong.

He watched as you chatted with (who he assumed to be) Nova while running around, his eyes narrowing. Your friend seemed put together, a navy blazer and slacks dressing her thin frame. His eyes flickered back over to you, watching you get ready for work. You did have a nice figure. Your apron only emphasizing the fact. Hoodie had watched Nova slide on the blazer, her upper arms toned with muscle. Huh. So much for a lazy overweight detective. Those targets were easy to get rid of. Toby, in the mist of his yapping about his delightful walk home with you, mentioned Nova. He mentioned the vanilla folder and the case she was working on. Hoodie believed he was the first of the three to have the suspicion she took Winston’s place.

Usually task forces would lay off of the investigation once their colleagues began getting killed. But every so often, there would be a feisty motherfucker who only wanted to indulge in the case deeper. He watched as you darted out of your apartment, Nova grabbing her things and following you. His eyes searched for the vanilla folder. He watched her pack her beat up satchel, random white papers and pens being thrown inside. Yet, no vanilla folder. He grinned devilishly as Nova exited your apartment. Toby would be keeping a close eye on her investigation as she studied the Winston case. They had eyes everywhere, your date with Tim proving to be useful. It gave Hoodie enough time to truly snoop around.

His mind circled back to the vanilla folder, the bane of his existence in your best friends possession. Nova hadn’t left with the documents, the vanilla folder not on her person. Her not leaving with the folder meant one thing and one thing only: it was in your apartment. What did that mean? That Hoodie was going to be able to steal it with ease.

\/

You felt like you were becoming paranoid. Your shift at Olive Garden was the same stressful experience it always was. Screaming children. Argumentative customers. Loud laughter. However, you felt like you were watched. You couldn’t figure out how or why. Your paranoia made you check on your tables faster. Your eyes constantly flickered around the restaurant, searching for the culprit. But all you found were families or couples eating their pasta and bread. By the end of your shift you were beat, shuffling into the bathroom to change clothes.

Davidson park was practically a straight shot from your work, there was no sense in dropping by your apartment. You briefly glanced at yourself in the mirror, not wanting to acknowledge how terrible you felt you looked. You were sure your lips were cracked and your eyes had dark circles decorating them. You shuffled into a bathroom stall, slipping out of your work uniform. You wondered if your perfume could truly mask the nauseating smell of pasta sauce. You began to put on deodorant, the light in the bathroom flickering.

You blinked a few times, trying to ensure you weren’t just sleep deprived. You looked up, a large bug caught in the ceiling light. It was bouncing between the light stick and the glass, creating the smallest sound of movement. You could see its shell, as well as its leggings thrashing around. You shoved it off, resuming changing into your normal clothes. You shoved on your boots, the unsettling feeling of you being watched falling over you again. This time you looked at the bottom gap of the stall door and the floor, a large set of black business shoes standing outside of your stall door. You blinked a few times, as if to double check what you were seeing was really there. “Hello?” You croaked, your mouth seemingly running dry. When was the last time you had drank water?

A gust of wind rushed past you, your head snapping behind you. You were in a tiny bathroom stall, what the actual fuck was creating wind? You turned back to the front of the stall, the pair of shoes now disappeared. Shoving your shirt over your head you exited the stall, looking around the bathroom. All of the stalls were empty, an eerie silence ensuing. Looking up you noticing the bug was no longer moving. Logically you should’ve been fine with it, the small creatures demise caused by the electricity. But the sight of the smallest pool of blood from the bugs corpse made your stomach churn, your face growing pale. How was that possible? The bug was a beetle, not a mosquito or anything with a handfuls worth of blood.

You ripped away your horrified gaze, forcing yourself to look at the floor instead. You shuffled out of the bathroom in a rush, the door hitting the wall as you flung it open. Ignoring the weird looks and questions from your coworkers you left the restaurant. You felt unsteady as you got in the car, your hands planting themselves firmly on the steering wheel. You felt like you had just seen a ghost, the crimson paint staining your mind. You swallowed and attempted to even out your breathing as you put the key into your ignition. You needed to get your shit together. You took a deep breath, putting your car in reverse and heading to see Tim.

\/

Hoodie took his time inspecting your apartment, trying to see what he could find out about you. His curiosity as to what made you so interesting nagging him mid mission. With his partners not around, it gave him the freewill to be as nosy as he wanted to be without repercussions. Your apartment was tiny and cluttered, but he determined your clutteredness was from the lack of space more than being messy. Hoodie’s opinion shifted slightly at the sight of your last outfit on the bathroom floor. Your red lacey underwear caught his eye, the blonde smirking under his mask.

How long had it been since he had been with a woman? He squatted down, picking up the fabric with his ring finger. Hoodie could just imagine your round ass in these, the red complementing your skin tone. He lifted his ski mask just above his nose, inhaling the crotch material of your dirty panties. His face flushed red with lust. His cock was slowly beginning to grow in his jeans, the proxy pulling himself away from the fabric. He took a deep breath, imagining his tongue in between your folds as you pleaded for more.

Ahh yes, Hoodie would do anything to see you beg.

Regaining his focus he wadded up the panties, shoving them in his back pocket. He needed to focus. He left your bathroom, rounding over to your bedroom. Your dresser was covered in various perfumes and jewelry. Did you have more money than you were letting on? He picked up a large necklace, the fake jewels shining back at him in the moonlight. Thankfully you left your lamp on, the blonde beginning to rummage through your belongings more unhinged. He lifted up your mattress, looked under your bed, in your pillow cases, in your nightstands. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There wasn’t even a trace that it was here.

Hoodie gritted his teeth as he pulled open your dresser drawers. His anger temporarily subsided as he eyed the first drawers contents. Rows of undergarments and bras nearly made his eyes pop out of his head. He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He rummaged through your drawers, the folder no where in sight. He stomped into the kitchen, the living room empty besides a couch, old wooden coffee table, matching with a the same wooden TV stand, and an ancient television. His eyes wondered around your kitchen, landing on a stack of bills with large red OVERDUE stamps plastered on the front. Hoodie picked up the one on top, examining it.

Huh. Not necessarily poor, just poor spending habits. He tossed the envelope aside, continuing his search for the vanilla bane of his existence. And he wouldn’t be leaving until he found it.

\/

You walked beside Tim down the sidewalk path, cool breezes rushing past the two of you. “So how was work?” He asked, starting conversation. Your shift was unnotable, if you took away the feeling of being watched and blood bug. “The usual. My table five had a lot of screaming children but it ended up being fine,” You answer as honestly as you could. You didn’t want to sound crazy, your paranoia getting the best of you. “What about you?” You added. You shoved your hands in your army green jacket, Tim’s hands shoved in his own mustard coat. For a brief second you saw a look of shock flash across Tim’s face, before he resumed his usual expression.

“The usual,” He answered truthfully. He shoved off the uncanny feeling of the Operators static depriving his senses. It wasn’t a usual punishment, the Operator more angry he had to send Kate than anything else. He always had a soft spot for the girl. “We both hate our jobs huh? You look like you just had a ptsd episode,” You chuckled, playfully elbowing him. Your innocence made Tim’s heart flutter, even with the deeper meaning your words unknowingly had. “You’re one to talk about ptsd episodes. You looked scarred when talking about screaming children,” Tim teased. He playfully poked your side, causing you to giggle. The moon hung in the sky, in seemingly a creepy smile. You made Tim feel normal, even if his life was no where near it.

“Oh please anything involving children provokes that face. I can’t imagine having them,” You say. The two of you strolled in unison, the street lights illuminating your path. “Really? Not even down the line?” Tim asked curiously. Of course it was impossible for him to have kids. He would never allow you to get pregnant, not from him or Brian or Toby. There was always the chance the Operator would be interested in the child. He couldn’t risk it. “Maybe. I’d always be afraid I let the wrong guy get me pregnant though,” You admitted. You felt your face go pale with embarrassment. “Oh fuck I said too much huh?” You laughed nervously. Tim couldn’t help but smile at your nervousness. You had no idea how cute you were.

“Not at all. You don’t have to worry around me. I’ve seen and i’ve done weirder things,” Tim told you. You both walked to the towns lake, the watery murky black as the moonlight reflected off of the glassy surface. “I’m really glad I met you Tim. I feel like you get it,” You say honestly. Tim raised an eyebrow, an owl hooting in the distance. “Get what?” He asked curiously. You flashed a nervous smile, tucking some hair behind your ears. “Like you get me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to fit in everywhere I went. Yet I feel at home with you three. It’s such an odd comforting feeling,” You explain softly. Tim took a step towards you, gently grasping your neck. Your eyes fluttered close, your breath hitching as his hot breath danced across your cool skin.

His chapped lips pressed a long kiss to your forehead, his touch soft and sweet. And most importantly, purposefully gentle. Tim pulled away slowly, holding your face in his gloved hands. You looked up at him, mesmerized by his chocolate orbs. He swiped his thumb across your cheek, soaking in your touch. You wanted to kiss him, his lips just out of reach. Tim wanted nothing more than to kiss you, his core yearning to taste your sweet plump lips. But he was trying to restrain himself. He knew he couldn’t have you. None of them could.

Slowly he pulled away from you, turning his gaze back to the black lake. You could feel the heat still dancing across your cheeks. Dumbfounded you turned towards the lake as well, standing side by side with the man you yearned for. There was an unsettling silence, one you decided to break.

“Hey Tim?”

“Hmm?”

Your mouth ran dry, your nerves getting the best of you. “Nothing never mind,” You babbled. You wanted to tell him about the bug. The shoes. The paranoia. But you didn’t want to scare him away. Tim raised an eyebrow, digging in his jeans pocket. He pulled out a beat up box of cigarettes, the red and white box shining in the moonlight. “Cig? It would help you loosen up a bit,” He offered. You had never considered touching a cigarette a day in your life. But the box sitting in Tim’s hand couldn’t look more intriguing even if it tried. Slowly you pulled one out of the box, looking at it. Tim did the same, immediately putting the stick to his lips. “You’ve never smoked before huh?” He asked. Shooting him an anxious smile you chuckled. His bluntness relaxed your nerves, your shoulders relaxing.

“What gave it away?” You asked him. Tim began digging around in his pocket, searching for a lighter. “You mean besides the fact that you’re eyeing it like it’s poison?” Tim chuckled. You rolled your eyes, the brunette flicking the lighter. He gave it a few flicks, the lighter finally producing a small flame. He inhaled sharply, the end of the cigarette lighting. “Haha very funny,” You replied dryly. Tim grinned as he exhaled the tobacco smoke out of his nose. You blinked, your morals seemingly nose diving out of the window at the sight of him. “You’re holding it like a nerd, go ahead and place it in between your lips for me pretty girl,” Tim instructed. Your cheeks turned pink as you placed the cigarette in between your lips. “Great now keep it there. When I tell you to, inhale for me,” He said. His words were getting to you, from his praise to referring to do things for him.

It made your core throb with an ache you had ignored for a long time.

He brought the lighter to the end of your cigarette, sparks flying as he tried to ignite it. The lighter refused to ignite, Tim’s eyes narrowing. “While I figure this out, you wanna tell me what you were going to a moment ago?” He asked. He took a step closer to you, attempting to block the wind from extinguishing the flame. “I uh, it’s hard to explain,” You said, your cigarette still dangling from your lips. Tim shook the lighter, growing increasingly annoyed. “I have terrible insomnia, nothing you can say will scare me away,” Tim told you. He said it so nonchalantly.

“You have-?”

“Yes, now it’s your turn.”

You stood dumbfounded. Another fast breeze blew past the two of you, your hair flying in the wind. “Well I just, um, I feel like i’m being watched. All the time,” You explain slowly. Tim tried to ignite your cigarette again, the lighter very clearly out of fluid. “Considering you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on, I can believe that,” Tim chuckled. He took another large inhale of his cigarette, the foul stench flooding your nostrils. You felt like a ball of warmth, your mouth running dry. “You don’t mean that,” You say quietly. Tim raised an eyebrow, tossing the empty lighter aside. “I’m a lot of things, but i’m not a liar,” He whispered. Tim easily towered over you, your eyes meeting his, cigarette dangling from your lips.

Tim’s large hand guided you to hold your cigarette in between your index and middle finger, the orange end still on the edge of your lips. Quietly he moved closer to you, the two of you watching as the end of his cigarette hit the end of yours. With each passing second you grew more flustered, his face an inch away from yours. Despite the freezing cold weather outside, Tim made you feel an indescribable warmth. The kind that blossomed from inside of your chest and made your heart throb. “Inhale for me,” Tim murmured. You did as instructed, ignoring the feeling of flames engulfing your throat. You wanted to stay this close to him forever.

You felt the tobacco swirl around your lungs, your gaze landing on Tim’s. You removed the cigarette from your lips, allowing the wind to guide the smoke out of your mouth. “Feel better?” Tim asked. You began to cough, giving him a thumbs up as you looked away from him. Tim grinned as you bent over slightly, trying to clear your lungs and inhale oxygen. As his large hand patted your back you realized that you’d willingly throw yourself into his warm flames. No matter how much they threatened to burn you.

—> next chapter

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi I got an ask about subby Criston and I’m here to fill it but I accidentally deleted the ask itself. So I hope you see this😭😭I kinda went cuckoo bonkers word to Wyn but anyways! Pookie bear cries and nuts like 40 times🧸🧸

Knock ‘em out - C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

WC: 3k

Tags: Boxer!Criston, Manager!Reader, Criss priss prob needed to be in an institution but now gets paid for beating ass, a little bit of manipulation from reader, marathon sex, overstimulation, sub space, soft domme, 🚨CRISTON BIG ASS PRAISE KINK🚨, he’s puppy your honor, Dom/sub, sub drop, aftercare, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms, intercrural sex, cumming in pants, lil bit of background story but mainly P O R N

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @moncherrii @bambitas @targaryenbarbie @fairysluna @thought--bubble @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @gemini-mama @valeskafics

Thanks @tumblin-theworldaway for helping my mind crank up heheheheeh

Criston knew he was off— something never wired right in his brain. Most people would interview him and see the rags-to-riches story. He came from trash, really, his dad was the janitor at the big boxing gym in the city. Coach Dondarrion told people they let Criston train for free as his father worked so tirelessly.

In reality, he couldn’t stop getting into fights at school. It was unchecked anger growing out of control. Criston’s mother and father begged Dondarrion to take him on and help channel that aggression. It likely saved his life. He was only 10 and beating kids’ faces in over slights— imagined or real. He was horribly possessive, jealous, and lost. Boxing seemed to put a lid on that.

Occasionally he’d have to be ripped off an opponent. Whispers of Criston Cole being a psycho were rampant. He was twenty-three when he got his current manager. She worked miracles. His everything— Criston loved the woman so much that sometimes it hurt his head, thoughts too intense to siphon through.

He’d known her from the Blackhaven gym, she was a daughter of Coach Swann and knew the realm of boxing pretty well. Coach Dondarrion brought her into the picture when Criston almost killed a man in the ring.

She didn’t bat an eye when Criston snarled and tried to intimidate her— only cocking her head and snorting like he was an unruly animal. He’ll never forget the words she said after. It was a shift for the boxer.

“Do that again and you won’t fight this week. I’m in charge now. You’re my prize pet. If you want to keep being a prize pet then you’ll listen to me,” she stated, manicured nail poking his chest.

The bigger man still had no clue what came over him, but her words were like a balm. This was what Criston needed— firm orders and guidance. He hoped at the time she could help him with all the mess in his head. Criston nodded and replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy. Let’s come up with some rules. You like rules don’t you?”

No unnecessary jabs, no yelling, work on riding the bike and going through footwork, and no cumming until he had won.

Those were the rules before a fight. Criston abided by them religiously. Even if he was like a caged animal towards the lead-up to the big event. He would feel himself grow more and more agitated— actively restraining from ripping his opponent's jaw off. Cole probably looked psycho, with dark eyes intense, jaw clenching. But his expression remained eerily placid. His manager liked that and said she could smell the fear off the other guy.

Criston remained undefeated, she must be right he thought. Coach Dondarrion said Swann was a goddamn genius. She was perfect like that. He hated she wouldn’t go public with their relationship, Criston would wind himself up into an obsessive tizzy over it.

But when he won again, and again, she was there to take care of him. They’d get through the usual press, Criston would shower, and they’d ride back to the hotel together. The air was charged in the back seat. She’d slapped his wandering hands away the first couple of times.

Now he knew to stay put and she’d tend to his face or scratch his hair, careful of any knots and bruising. It felt so fucking good the first time she touched him, he had cum in his sweats before even reaching the hotel. Whining and writhing as she cooed and put ice on his black eye or taped a busted nose— he couldn’t remember exactly.

His manager had cooed in surprise when he seized up and gasped, wetting the inside of his briefs, “Oh, baby? You came? Needed that, didn’t you? Criston Cole, my prized pet, big bad man, didn’t know you liked being loved on. You deserve it, baby, I’m here for you, always.”

Her words had simultaneously embarrassed and made Criston want to kneel at her feet, awaiting her next command. He remained quiet, cheeks flushing heavily, worried internally his nose would start bleeding. Swann curled at his side and stroked his messy curls.

“Don’t be ashamed, you deserve to feel good. ‘Sides I know you have more to go, gotta be pretty full from going a week. You want me to take care of that, empty you out?”

Criston gritted his teeth and whined. He wanted it so bad. The demon in his head teased and prodded him, spitting lies. “She thinks you’re a weak little bitch, you really gonna spread your legs and bare your neck like a slut?” the voice said. He moaned softly, pained from the dissonance.

His manager whispered gently, a small hand rubbing soothing circles on his chest.

“Criston, baby, stop thinking so much, and let me do it for you.”

He melted into her warm embrace, the proposition flicking on a switch he didn’t know existed. She smiled as he slurred out a ‘yes’ and went lax under her palms. Criston didn’t know at the time— that submitting completely to another made his mind stop for a bit.

He was euphoric, eyes focused on her as they entered the hotel. She waved off any reporters and led him by the hand. Criston clung to her like a needy child in the elevator, his cock swelled up again. The manager let him rut a bit on her tight skirt and giggled at his desperation.

When they finally, finally gotten to the room— she stripped Criston down and made him cum until he cried, all the adrenaline sapped out of his body. He lost count of how many times her mouth and hand brought him to completion. He got to float in his head, tongue too thick and limbs too heavy to do anything but whine and be coddled.

Criston woke up later as a new man. He felt he could breathe. Then the games began as his record kept going up, Cole escalating to the fucking top. He didn’t know what to do with all the money except buy his family a house and Swann anything she desired.

He’d won again. Shaking his fist and snarling obscenities at Strong on the ground. He’d get another fuck-ton of money and go home happy. He’d picked up the belt and grinned, elated at his thirtieth win. On the top of the world.

Criston’s mind began to whirl as he stalked down the hallway. He briskly showered and answered a couple of questions to the press. She waited to the side, sinful red lips curled upwards. Swann was wearing the red bottoms he bought her, pretty legs shown off in her little dress and blazer.

When she nodded toward the exit he followed, agitated at the annoying reporter still asking questions. Criston didn’t want to upset her, so he kept his mouth shut and followed along, pulling his hoodie up. His balls fucking throbbed. He wanted to fuck his angel so bad, maybe she’d let him on a special occasion like this.

He got into the dark luxury vehicle, inhaling her sweet scent. Criston was close to getting feral, mouth watering at the possibilities. Still, he remained mute. Until she shifted, facing him in the dark, eyes full of affection. Criston couldn’t help the thin whine that burst from his chest at her attention.

“Look’it you. Took down Breakbones, got thirty wins, fucking hell baby,” she drew closer to him, “Criston Cole, you’re the real deal! You wanna fuck me, baby boy? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Pleaseplease, yes, fucking yes,” he pled.

A stagnant pause fell over the back of the car.

“Thank you,” he moaned, “Thank you.”

“Good boy, don’t forget your manners.”

She placed a warm hand high on his thigh, massaging the sore muscle. Her other palm caressed Criston’s patched-up cheek. She hummed “A kiss?” He nodded eagerly, vibrating in place, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. But Criston knew he had to be her good boy.

The woman softly pecked his lips, pulling back to watch Criston chase with a sad noise. She smiled and kissed him again, deeper this time. He eagerly opened his mouth for her, shivering as her nimble tongue playfully lapped at his own. Criston’s hands balled up in his sweats— no touching, no touching unless given permission.

Their lips wetly smacked in the dark car, her hand moving up to rub maddeningly at his straining cock. Criston cried out into her mouth, hips bucking helplessly. She laughed and nibbled on his shapely lower lip, hand squeezing his manhood.

“S’all mine isn’t it? My cock, just for me.”

He nodded in misery, his body wanted to let go, but it was a bit of a process to get Criston in the headspace he wanted. She knew how to get him there. Like her lips against his ear, tits pressed against his chest as she purred, “Easy love, relax, I’ve got you honey.”

“Mmm- gods, need it,” he gritted out, dark eyes lolling.

As her firm hand jerked him over the sweats, Criston’s manager nipped and kissed at his clean-shaven cheeks and neck. She whispered, “Sweet boy, I know you are s’hard, relax, relax, you’re gonna get to cum all night baby. As much as you want, just gotta let go okay?”

She praised and played with him some more, Criston began to pant hoarsely, thighs shaking as he neared the precipice. She tutted when the car stopped, “Get yourself together baby, we’re here now.” He blinked, a tear falling down his cheek, bewildered by the way she left him.

He was so fucking close! The boxer sulked and groaned at his denied orgasm, eyes watery from how intense his balls were throbbing now. He wiped his eyes and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up again, keeping his head low. He hoped the half-assed tucking of his hard-on worked.

They walked in sync to the elevators. He sulked, “M’so hard it hurts.” Criston’s girl pouted her lips, patting his cheek, “I know, I know sweet boy, but we can’t keep the driver waiting. Almost there, don’t be so needy.”

Criston wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his face into her neck. He would be good, he wouldn’t hump or bite. He merely wanted to hold her for a second before the elevator dinged. Swann hummed and nuzzled back into his hair.

Onward they went, Criston’s mind growing fuzzier and fuzzier as his body thrummed with need. Upon entering the penthouse suite— her entire demeanor changed. She snapped, “Go get undressed and kneel for me by the bed.”

He nodded in little jerks, undressing and folding them neatly, just how his mistress liked. Criston shuddered as the cool air hit his cock, swallowing heavily as he knelt before the foot of the bed. His hands shook with need, his adrenaline still thrashing and pumping underneath the skin.

He was downright panting by the time she came out of the bathroom, naked as he was. Criston bit on his lip, eyes watering again. The angel laughed, “You sure are worked up tonight.” She padded behind Criston, winding a hand into his hair, eliciting another agonized noise from the boxer.

“You are so damn talented, the Warrior smiles on you. I’m proud.”

“Thank you, thank you ma'am,” he whispered.

“I’m going to get on the bed and you’re going to fuck all that energy and cum out okay?”

“Yes ma’am- ohmygods.”

Criston’s brows pulled together as she laid before him, legs crooked and spread, her cunt shining with slick. He growled, digging his nails into the skin of his thigh. She crooked her fingers playfully, “C’mon baby, you’re allowed to touch. Use me, my special pet earned it.”

He almost felt bad in the way he roughly had pulled her ass flush to his hips, the flesh smacking loudly. Criston had eagerly gotten on his knees in the center of the soft bed, slotting his swollen cock against her slick pussy. “F-fuck, fuck, gonna use you baby, ’m sorry,” he gritted out. She smiled and shrugged, moaning as he rutted against her a couple more times.

Criston’s dark eyes rolled up as he entered her velvet cunt, warm and sososo tight. He snarled as he snapped his hips into his baby. She was crying out and digging sharp nails into his shoulders. Cole knew he was lost in the feeling, rasping and groaning possessive, ugly things he would never say out loud.

But when legs were wrapped around his waist and she was mewling his name? Criston had lost his firm barriers. He rumbled into her ear between kisses and bites, “My godsdamn pussy, mine, you’re mine, I’ll f-fucking kill anyone who touches you, looks at you, gods I’ll do anything!”

He groaned, balls drawing up quicker than expected. She was crying out “Yes! yes! All yours!” Criston sucked in a wet breath at her neck, hips driving into her at a breakneck pace, hands bruising her pretty skin. He choked on his drool, unable to warn her— Criston’s orgasm was that intense.

She tightened around him when his cock flooded, absolutely flooded her pussy. Criston moaned and clenched his jaw, fucking through the oversensitivity. His girl dug her heels into his ass to spur him on. The boxer swallowed down a little mewl. Everything was still so swollen, he had to keep fucking, keep cumming.

“Mmm, yes! Don’t stop baby, oh Criston!”

“I-I am, fuuuck, g’nna fill you up again!"

He drove his hips upward, lifting her hips so that Criston could get at her g-spot. She raked a bloody mark across his back, gasping in delight. He rambled while thumbing desperately at her clit, “Yeah, yeah, feel s’good, cum on me baby, need to feel you, m’close again!”

Criston wasn’t sure if it was her gorgeous wail or her pussy gushing on his cock or both but he came again. She chose to mouth at his lips, shaky legs clenching around him, hand pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. Meanwhile, he whined Swann’s name, the quickness of his second orgasm turning Criston’s brain into jello.

The slick noises between them were loud and sloppy, he was stuttering and whining. She threw her pretty head back and moaned. Criston was finding words hard. He kept fucking and fucking. She felt too good and he had so much cum for her.

“That’s it, keep it up,” she grunted.

Criston slurred, “Ca-can’t stop, can’t, can't!”

He felt his eyes grow wet as his overstimulated cock was gripped and milked by her cunt. The angel, his angel, wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck, his hips forcing little 'uhs' out of her plush lips. Criston blabbered uselessly, words bordering on sobs now. It felt too good, the pain and pleasure were ecstasy to him. He bottomed out inside her, stopping to mewl long and high before returning to feverishly thrusting again.

“Oh, oh, angel- hurts- s’good ohmygods your pussy, gotta cum again, m’sorry m’so sorry!”

She nuzzled at his jaw, moaning, “It’s okay, doing so good for me, needy baby. You needed this, poor baby’s balls are so full.”

“S’full,” he agreed, mindless and shivering.

Criston’s thighs began to twitch as he felt another wave cresting. He practically wailed as the third peak licked up his spine— white hot and mean. She gasped, nails digging into his flanks, pussy pulsing around another load of Criston’s molten cum.

He was a mess, wordless and drooling. Criston began to move again, gaze unfocused and mouth agape. He whimpered, all overstimulated and still fucking frantic. Criston felt like he’d die if he didn’t stop, tears pouring down his flushed cheeks.

Her hands held his face now, her lips saying something. Criston slowly cocked his head, attempting to understand his manager’s words. She said it again, this time louder with a smack to his cheek. Criston stopped his movements, protesting with a weak noise.

“Babydoll, you gotta fuck my thighs, I'm starting to hurt. I’m going to turn over, okay precious? Got that?”

His lips trembled— Criston didn’t want to do that. He wanted her pussy. He slid out anyway, a torrent of white spend flooding out of her well-used entrance, seeping onto the bed. She marveled "Oh Criston, you still have anything left?" The woman hissed under her breath as she flipped onto her stomach. She tucked a pillow under her hips, giving him access to her thighs, slicked with their release.

Criston stared— unsure how to proceed. His cock was so flushed it purpled, aching horribly. He whined, frustrated with his stupidity, the man just wanted familiar tightness again. She sighed and reached back, ushering his knees and thighs to cage her legs in, forcing Criston forward.

He gasped in delight when his cock slid between her soft thighs, warm and wet. His depleted brain decided this would do. Criston’s thrusts were jerky and uncoordinated, he was growing too sensitive to go on much further. He kept at it, crying and sniffling like a babe.

“Awe baby, you’re hurting huh?”

“Mhm!” he replied, scrunching his face up tight. He had to cum one more time, he had to! Even if it was excruciating, the pleasure ramped up into nerves prickling all over his worn body. She watched him with lidded eyes, lips in a smirk. Criston exhaled again, throwing his head back to sob.

“Gotta- I gotta,” he mewled.

“I know sweetheart, so close, let it all out, you’ll feel so much better. You’re so pretty like this— all fucked out and still want more. Knocked your whore brain sideways. My cute slutty puppy, I love youuu.”

Criston folded under the praise, his body contracting once more, stomach cramping as he devolved into cries. His abused cock managed to dribble one little last bit. He couldn’t stop crying, falling back onto his haunches. Swann guided him down to shush and pet his hair. She murmured, "You're okay, all done now, I'm here, not going anywhere. Just breathe."

Criston’s muscles were all loose but the adrenaline had been sapped quickly. He was gutted— in a good way. Just couldn’t help the reaction, he knew it would happen after an intense romp like this. His baby curled into his heaving side, laying feathery kisses on his jaw, a relaxing hand at his diaphragm.

“That’s it, let it out, poor baby. Couldn’t help yourself hm?”

Criston nodded through the incessant tears, his shaky hand threading through her hair. He rasped, “I love you so much. You’re perfect.” He was growing more sleepy, settled by her kisses and glowing smile. He could float easy and enjoy the win, curled up with his lifesaver. Well, after she got him water and wiped down the mess. He realized with a smile— she had laid a towel underneath them.

She’d have to help him function tomorrow, Criston knew he’d be scrambled eggs, sore, and a bit grumpy. But that’s why they kept a suite for three days. After the kick off he would rest up and replenish. They would fuck sensually, cuddle, and watch a in some order of that fashion.

His addled mind conjured up a big diamond ring he’d buy for her.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi! I was wondering if you knew any fics where when Derek finds out Stiles is his Mate and instead of out-right rejecting him or hiding it, he's just like "Yeah, okay, we're Mates." or something like that. Same on Stiles end too. I just need some fluff right now, please.

THANK YOU!!!

Sure!

Werewolf Project by Anonymous

(1/1 I 2,468 I Teen)'

Stiles and Derek have to do a project together... about werewolves.

Protecting You by dreamedwriting

(2/? I 3,002 I Teen)

The night of the Hale Fire, Stiles Stilinski senses something off. He follows the feeling and as a result, saves the Hales.

(A Belated) Invite To Eternity by ussentercries

(2/? I 3,274 I Teen)

Derek didn't notice it at first. It started with Stiles staying a little later than everyone else after pack meetings.

An Eternal Bond by stereksterek

(6/6 I 13,528 I Not Rated)

The one where Stiles organizes five bonding activities for the pack that just end up bringing him and Derek closer + the one time Derek does the same for Stiles.

Ain't Nothing so Good as the Cake and Eating it by sofonisba_found

(15/15 I 51,001 I Mature)

Derek thinks he's doing alright in life, with his family at his side and a job he loves. Despite his family's concerns he remains adamant that he doesn't need a mate, afraid to take the risk of letting anyone close enough to try to hurt his family again. That is until he realizes that his true mate has been right under his nose for years, and that now through his inaction he may lose him.

Future Dreams by midnitekween

(13/13 I 73,956 I Explicit)

Stiles accidentally summons he and Derek's children from the future to the present.

He's Not Mine by Sunnee

(19/19 I 68,534 I Explicit)

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

The Moon Lives (In The Lining of Your Skin) by Quixoticity

(28/30 I 132,440 I Explicit)

Stiles is doing fine. Okay, so he didn't expect to be a single father to an infant daughter at the tender age of twenty-three, but it's working out great. And no, he didn't expect to be a curator in Beacon Hills Museum, where weird things happen with no explanation, but he's rolling with it. And he seems to have acquired a new brother now that his dad's gotten engaged, which, odd, but hey, Stiles is flexible, and there's no such thing as too much love, right?

But then the next twist comes in the form of mysterious new neighbour Derek Hale, who is both insanely angry at the world (it's possible he's murdered people with his eyebrows alone), and adorably good with children. He's also in possession of a truly excellent butt.

Stiles is doomed.

Settle Down by wearing_tearing, whatthehale

(19/19 I 153,180 I Explicit)

Stiles is a struggling author barely making ends meet.

Derek is a successful architect whose biological clock is ticking.

Enter a surrogacy agency, two packs, and a particularly sticky and toe curling heat week and you get a match made in heaven.

[somebodys-nightmare]

Understanding Cloud's Identity Crisis

I've originally posted this on Twitter, but this work-up is an analysis of Cloud's identity crisis, false persona, and his real psyche as we see in in FFVII/FFVIIR.

Throughout Final Fantasy VII, Cloud's true self is buried, trying to reach Tifa. Deep down, he knows that she is the key... Because Tifa is his one true love.

Up until the Lifestream scene in FFVII, Cloud’s true identity is hidden or ‘sleeping’ beneath a false persona. This false persona- the “EX-SOLDIER First Class” persona, is built on a combination of three things:

-his ideal self

-Jenova cells

-His true self/memories/experiences

𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙎𝙚𝙡𝙛: Cloud’s ideal self is constructed primarily through his personal desires to be a 'cool hero' who can save Tifa. This construct is rooted in his childhood experiences & his feelings for her - being unable to save her on the mountain when they were children and being unable to break past his introversion & prejudice against her friend group to spend more time with her & express his true feelings.

This becomes his motivation to join SOLDIER & invite her to the water tower to share his intentions with her leading to his promise to save her one day if she ever needs him. With that in mind, Cloud’s ideal self is cool, tough, and strong - someone who made it into SOLDIER, possessing the characteristics of a man who can keep that promise to Tifa.

𝙅𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙖 𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨: The Jenova cells Cloud has from the experimentation 5 years ago glue together & fill in the holes of his false persona via its mimetic abilities. Jenova alters Cloud’s memories to ‘prop’ up his ideal self & provide the gateway for Sephiroth’s manipulation of Cloud & to push him towards the Reunion.

These cells read Tifa’s memory for her image of Cloud upon their reunion, & finding her memories of him - the boy who made her a promise before he left for SOLDIER- reinforce Cloud’s ideal, the cool hero who can save her.

𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙡𝙛: Cloud’s true self makes up part of his false persona by filling in gaps in his memory & experiences so he can function & maintain the facade of his EX-SOLIDER persona. Cloud’s cold, aloof, & sometimes aggressive or confrontational behavior is informed by his real introverted, surly, indignant, & independent nature.

Cloud’s real memories & experiences as an infantryman & the second-hand experiences he heard from Zack, combined with abilities granted to him by the Jenova experimentation, allow him to demonstrate skills and knowledge consistent with that of a SOLDIER.

His true memories and experiences as a participant in the Nibelheim Incident allow him to weave a complete fabrication that suits his ideal self, especially in conjunction with Jenova’s ‘help’.

This elaborate persona acts as a coping mechanism to help Cloud navigate the world upon awakening from severe trauma & mako poisoning when Tifa finds him in Sector 7. But beneath this persona, Cloud’s true self is dormant & trying to break free, notably, to reach Tifa.

While the construction & maintenance of this false persona occur through a combination of dissociation & delusion, Cloud’s true identity sleeps beneath, trying to find a way out. Internally, Cloud knows there is something wrong with him - he isn’t sure what to do about it.

Cloud’s true self is attempting to rectify this with spontaneous attempts to surface. Most occur in connection with Tifa, showcasing not only her importance to him, but his belief that she is the key. subconsciously realizes he has to be there for Tifa for him to find himself.

Cloud is constantly fighting back the effects of his trauma & the manipulation of Sephiroth & the Reunion. He repeatedly tries to reconnect & reclaim his psyche via his interactions with Tifa - by protecting her, listening to her, comforting her - by keeping his 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚.

Cloud’s true persona even goes so far as to try to get him to connect the dots by urging him to ask Tifa why they never got a chance to spend time together 5 years ago - a conversation that unfortunately, in Junon, cannot happen yet.

Note: In Rebirth, this interaction is massively upgraded to Sephiroth's intense gaslighting of Cloud by trying to convince him that Tifa is Jenova, more dramatically driving a wedge between them throughout the game.

By the time the party reaches the Northern Crater, Cloud is completely unstable from the events leading up to the Reunion, & his true self is at risk of being completely shattered. Sephiroth’s gaslighting of Cloud & Tifa & his use of Tifa’s memories against them are the final straw, resulting in Cloud’s complete loss of himself. But it is because he loses Tifa’s faith & belief in who he truly is that Cloud breaks.

Cloud’s sense of self is restored in the Lifestream not simply because Tifa can help him reclaim his memories, but because Tifa affirms who Cloud is - his real self - & his feelings, the ones that made him feel inadequate & need to impress her in the first place. Tifa not only affirms that she noticed Cloud, but that 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚. These are Cloud’s true desires - because he has always been 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

The events in Mideel are critical to all of this. Although Cloud is unaware, Tifa selflessly devotes herself to his care. Such a display of unconditional love proves that Tifa returns Cloud’s deeply held inner feelings, even if he doesn’t know it. When Mideel is attacked, Cloud emerges briefly enough to warn her - once again keeping his promise to protect her, as he does again when they fall into the Lifestream and she calls out for his help.

This is the pattern of Cloud and Tifa's relationship throughout FFVII- a constant call-and-response of protection & care that culminates with mutual understanding in the Lifestream and mutual affection under the Highwind.

Cloud, at his very core, is driven by his love for Tifa. The multifaceted depths & complexities of his character are underpinned by this very human, empathetic notion of love, and it is one reason he is my favorite character in any form of media.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hello :) if your requests are still open:

This is my first time requesting something so please ignore this if I‘m doing something wrong.

I saw the 150 Random Writing Prompts and was thinking of a jealous Hunter smut. (Or Echo, if you find it more fitting)

With

143.: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

And if it’s ok ( I could not decide, sorry)

97.: if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

93.: say you want me, and i’m yours.”

Thanks 🙏🏻 You are an awesome writer!✨

Thank you so much for the request, anon! You did nothing wrong at all! I was able to work in all three, but I’m incapable of writing anything short, so this is kinda long - oops. Hope you like it! <3

Bonus point if you spot the Taylor Swift lyric I managed to weave in!

Green Doesn’t Suit You

With the whole squad safely back on Pabu, you settle into a comfortable civilian life. But the yearly Celestialis festival, said to bring good fortune for the next year to those who attend, brings with it something you never thought you’d have.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 6.5k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: jealousy, friends to lovers, pet names, old lady shoving her oar in, Omega is a fantastic wing-woman, confessions of love, first kiss together, squint for possessiveness, being (lovingly) manhandled, first time together, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, soft aftercare, all the fluffy feels.

The air was stifling, not only from the heat outside but the warmth emanating from both ovens in the kitchen of your new home on Pabu.

The house had been a gift – the fanciest gift you’d ever received – from Shep and the other island residents. A thank you for all the hard work you, the boys, and Omega had put into rebuilding their island after the freak tsunami.

All seven of you, living together in a space infinitely bigger than the Marauder or your old barracks. It was heaven.

“We still need to get those tanks moved.” Omega grumbled, grabbing a clean tray and loading it with the latest batch of cooled cookies you’d made. In the sitting room, just visible through the kitchen doorway, were two bacta tanks. Where Phee had managed to procure them from was still a mystery, but they’d saved Crosshair and Tech’s lives after you, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker had stormed Mount Tantiss to rescue Omega and the twins. The brothers had been worse for wear – it was still a miracle Tech had survived his fall.

“I’ll speak to Phee in the morning.” You added it to your mental list, skirting around an open cabinet door.

Today was the Celestialis festival, where Pabu’s residents came together to wish for good fortune for the year ahead. Once Shep and the island’s organising committee had caught wind of how good your baking skills were, they’d pulled you into the fray. For weeks, you’d been planning and purchasing ingredients and trying different recipes. And for the last few days, you’d been baking all hours of day and night – with varying levels of assistance from Omega and her brothers.

Four years ago, when the war had broken out, you’d signed up as a civilian handler. Fresh out of college and with nothing lined up, it had seemed like a good idea. While other handlers stayed on Kamino and supported their squads from a distance, the moment you’d read the files for Clone Force 99, you’d known that you’d need to be at their side constantly. They had a habit of veering off track, and handling that from afar would only give you a permanent migraine. So, after signing a hefty waiver with the Kaminoans, you’d been handed some armour, a blaster, and directions to the hangar.

Three years, you’d fought alongside them, learning the best ways to manage them and their unique skill set, building bonds and friendships far deeper and more meaningful than anything you’d ever had before. This last year, since Order 66, had brought its own challenges, too, but it has also brought you Omega.

Grabbing another tray from a cupboard, you pass it over to the young girl, watching as she loads it up with more cookies. Sweat beads on the nape of your neck, and you sigh, lifting your hair to try and get some air to it.

Omega, forever perceptive, abandons the cookies to help tie your hair back. From a small pot on the counter, she goes to grab a hairband, but at the last minute, you redirect her to the strip of fabric that sits nearby, the two of you sharing a look.

It’s another hour before you’re ready to leave for the festival. The boys had headed out mid-afternoon to help set up, taking their dressier clothes with them to spare themselves the walk back to the house and to not get in your way as you finished up. As infuriating and stubborn as they could all be at times, their thoughtfulness was unparalleled.

Dragging wagons laden with treats up to the central plaza, you and Omega work quickly to lay out all the goodies on the tables Shep had set aside for you. You hoped there would be enough for everyone, especially as other food was on offer, too. Stepping back from the tables, you take a deep breath.

“Finally left the kitchen, eh?” Echo teases as he approaches, the rest of the boys in tow. He’d tried to help as best as he could over the last few days, but baking with one hand had been less than ideal. Ultimately, he’d sat at the kitchen table and kept you going with conversation and caff breaks. And he’d chased Hunter off a few times when that keen nose of his had brought him sniffing around for treats to ‘sample.’

You watch as Omega passes a star-shaped cookie over to Wrecker, and the delight on the big man’s face as he devours it fills you with pride. “If I step foot in that kitchen again at any point in the next two weeks, please shoot me.” You joke, the corners of your lips curling into a smile.

“Deal.” Crosshair teases, toothpick sliding to the other side of his mouth as he reaches for a Roonan lemon cookie. His appetite hadn’t returned much since his rescue from Mount Tantiss and time in the bacta tank, but he was trying to eat a little more each day so you wouldn’t worry about him.  

“Hey!” You protest playfully, the boys chuckling as Crosshair takes a small bite, throwing you a wink. Light conversation flows between you all, broken up by the occasional island resident swinging by for some treats. The music starts, and more residents arrive, joining the festival’s spirit, dancing together and laughing.

Hunter can’t keep his eyes off you. For the last four years, he’s seen you in blacks and armour, with the recent addition of sweatpants around the house, and yet now you’re in a dress. A light and airy thing with delicate straps that cross over your shoulders, the fabric cinched in at your waist to accentuate the soft curves of your body. He’s sure it’s the same shade of aqua that paints his pauldrons, too. The thought has a strange sensation sweeping through his gut.

The sound of someone calling your name snatches his attention and drags his thoughts back to the present. As you turn towards the person calling for you, he can’t help but steal the opportunity to admire you. Eyes raking up your bare legs, across your hips and ass that he’s imagined grasping many times, over the smooth plane of your back to the curve of your neck and then…

The entire galaxy might as well cease to exist as his mind goes blank.

Wide brown eyes lock onto the scrap of red fabric keeping your hair up, and that strange sensation in his gut slams into him again. There, holding your hair up, is one of his spare bandanas.

His heart races, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. A torrent of emotions surges within him. He wants to reach out to you, to pull you close and finally tell you how much you mean to him, but he holds himself back. He can't bear the thought of you not returning the sentiment. Maybe it had just been an accident. Maybe his bandana had been the closest thing available.

In the silence of his thoughts, he missed you excusing yourself to talk with one of the island’s elderly residents, who’d been calling you over.

“Smooth.” Crosshair deadpans, gaze flicking to Hunter as they watch you go, the rest of their siblings distracted by the food and music.

The slink of his brother’s voice pulls Hunter from his thoughts, and he frowns in Crosshair’s direction. “What?” He asks. They’d worked hard to reconcile ever since Crosshair had been deemed stable enough to leave the bacta tank – they’d broached difficult topics and mended a few bridges as they worked towards getting back to what they’d had before the Order had been given. It was slow and, at times, painful, but neither of them was willing to give up on each other again.

“You were staring at her like she’s pure aurodium. Not that I blame you…” Hawkish eyes slide towards Hunter, a smirk tugging at Crosshair’s lips as he watches his brother’s jaw clench and his head tilt, a hardness settling across his features.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, enjoying the slight rise he’d secured. “Green doesn’t suit you, vod.” He tosses the comment before snatching up a few more of your baked treats, striding away in search of a quiet place to perch. Crowds still bothered him, but he didn’t want to avoid the gathering altogether and feel like even more of an outcast.

Across the plaza, you’d reached Mrs. Magiere. The elderly lady had lived on the island for years and had slowly convinced her family to move across the galaxy and join her. She wandered the island around lunchtime, and you’d often crossed paths, sharing polite conversation.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar man. “There you are, dear. I want to introduce you to my grandson, Dax.” Mrs. Magiere reached for your hand, drawing you closer.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dax.” You offered the man a smile. He was a little taller than you, with a slender build, perfectly coifed brown hair and piercing green eyes.

Dax tries to keep his gaze on your face, but his eyes betray him for a moment as he takes all of you in. You’re quite lovely, he must admit. “And you. My grandmother speaks very fondly of you.” He replies.

Mrs. Magiere looks between you both with glee. “Why don’t you two go and dance? My old bones can’t keep up anymore.” One of her hands finds your lower back, and she gives you a gentle nudge towards Dax.

Warmth sweeps across your cheeks caught off guard and a little uncomfortable, but Dax offers you a reassuring smile and his hand. Not wanting to cause a scene or upset anyone, you take it, letting him lead you towards the plaza’s centre where couples and families are dancing. He stops en route, snagging a delicate pink flower from one of the blossoming vines nearby. With careful hands, he slides it into your hair, leaning back to admire you.

“And here I thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.” The compliment comes naturally to Dax as he retakes your hand, leading you to a small available spot amongst the dancing island residents.  

The warmth in your cheeks grows, and all you can offer Dax is a small smile as he twirls you into his arms once you are amongst the crowd. Laughing softly, you let him lead, the few dance classes you’d taken at college helping you keep up with him.

“You did a wonderful job with the baked goods.” Dax lays another compliment on you, enjoying your bashful smile.

It felt good to be appreciated for all your hard work preparing for this evening, especially by those outside of your little family. “Thank you. What did you like the most?”

Turmoil rolls through Dax. Truth told, he hadn’t sampled any of the treats you’d so lovingly prepared, but he knew it was essential to compliment you. “The oat ones were delicious.” He takes a stab in the dark.

Your smile falters briefly before you fix it back into place. “I’m glad.” You lie in return, not pointing out that you hadn’t made oat cookies.

Standing off at the side of the plaza, it took no time for Hunter to find you amongst the crowd. Over the years, he’d memorised the sound of your heartbeat and the delicate whisper of your voice as the light breeze carried it to him. His eyes found you, and his brows furrowed as he watched you gracefully twirl in the arms of another man, a torrent of emotions churning within him. Jealousy, like a venomous snake, coiled around his heart, injecting poison into his every thought.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The woman he loved, whose smile could light up his darkest days, was now smiling at someone else. Insecurity gnawed at him, an unpleasant feeling he thought he’d long buried during his cadet days.

He longed to be the one guiding you across the dance floor, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the galaxy. The realisation that someone else was experiencing that privilege grated on him.

“I don’t like him.” Omega’s voice snapped Hunter from his spiralling thoughts, and he glanced down to see her standing at his side, her own eyes watching you and the unfamiliar man dance.

“Hm, neither do I.” Hunter comments, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you twirl again.

It was no secret to Omega how much you and Hunter loved one another, and she was getting tired of neither of you doing anything about it. “Then, why don’t you go dance with her?” She asked, injecting as much innocence into her voice as she could muster, wide eyes turning up to look at her brother.

Hunter sighed. Omega had a point – he could quickly end this torture.

“Mind if I cut in?” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice interrupted your dance, and you turned towards him, offering him a bright smile.

The smile Dax had been wearing dissipated, a faint clench to his jaw as he shook his head while the music changed to something softer. “Not at all.” He lied, taking his hands from you. His grandmother had told him about the man who’d interrupted, with half of his face shrouded in darkness, and had warned him that you were close. Not willing to go easily, Dax lifted one of your hands to his lips, holding your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the back of it before stepping away a small distance. He’d wait nearby for another turn.

Your bright smile turned a little uneasy as Dax pressed a kiss to your hand, but relief had your shoulders sagging as Hunter stepped forward, sliding one arm around your waist to pull you close, your hand resting on his shoulder. He took your other hand with his free one, fingers interlacing. “Thank you for the save.” You murmured gratefully, knowing that with his hearing, you didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard above the music.

“Always.” Hunter’s answer leaves no room for doubt as he gently leads, moving you both in a slow sway. He can’t help but revel in your closeness. Every touch, every brush of your hand against his, feels electrifying, making his heart race with desire. Your warm body is pressed to his, his senses overwhelmed with you.

Warmth and security flood your body with the press of Hunter’s hand on your lower back, igniting a desire to be even closer. The rest of the galaxy can’t reach you here, tucked safely in his arms, and for a moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything that’s happened over the last four years – all the pain and bloodshed, all the horrors and tears. Through it all, Hunter has been a steady presence.

As you sift through the good memories, certain moments stand out. There was that day at the lake on Kintan, where the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The two of you had sat side by side, another successful mission under your belt, your laughter dancing in the air. You remember stealing glances at him, the way the sunlight had caught in his eyes, adding more warmth than you thought possible to those endless pools of brown.

Then there were the late-night conversations while you were deep in hyperspace, where you’d lose track of time, sharing dreams, fears, and secrets. Hunter’s voice, soft yet determined, painted a vivid picture of what he wanted from life after the war.

You could only hope those wants had changed.

Hunter drew his senses in, letting the crowd in the plaza fade into the background as he focused on you, the steadiness of your heartbeat, the feel of your hand in his and your bodies pressed together, and the subtle change to your scent. “You smell different.” He comments, curious eyes finding yours.

“If anyone else said that to me, I’d stomp on their foot.” You laugh, a little caught off guard by the statement. “I…” You trail off, the warmth that had faded from your cheeks now returning. “I stopped wearing perfume while knee-deep in the war, but now we’re out the other side of it. I thought I might try it again.” You admit, head dipping bashfully, before worry laces through you. “Is it too much? I aimed for something I hoped wouldn’t bother you and your senses.”

Lips parting at your answer, Hunter blinks with disbelief. Here you were in a sweet little dress, one of his bandanas keeping your hair up, and now you’d dropped on him that you were wearing a perfume picked out with his heightened senses in mind. He groans, desire churning through his veins. “Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” 

Freezing, you think for a moment that you’ve misheard him. “What?” You question softly.

Hunter realises his mistake, but it’s too damn late to take the words back. 

In the following pause, neither of you moving, simply staring at one another, Dax spots his opportunity and steps forward. “Can I cut back in?”

Hunter has to actively stop himself from grunting in frustration at the interruption. “We’re not done.” He tells him politely, making sure to keep his eyes on you. He knows he has to say something to you. “Cyar’ika, I…”

Dax huffs, finding it unfair that this man had swooped in and stolen you mid-dance and refused to let him back in. “Look, bud-“

Something snaps in Hunter, and his head whips to the side, eyes narrowing at the man you’d been dancing with. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help the Maker…” He growls out the threat, no longer caring that he’s being rude. This was too important. You were too important.

Your jaw drops, and you watch in disbelief as Hunter threatens Dax. Your heart races, and for a moment, the tension in the air is palpable. Dax, a bit taken aback by Hunter’s sudden intensity, raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, whoa, man.” Dax stammers, realising he’s pushed Hunter’s patience to the limit. He steps back, allowing some space between him and the seething clone.

Hunter takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, regaining his composure. He turns back to you, his eyes softening as he tries to find the right words. "Cyar'ika, I'm sorry. It’s just... I need to talk to you.”

Your heart still races, but now it’s not just from the tension between the two men. You look into Hunter’s eyes searchingly. “What is it?” you ask, your voice filled with concern.

Keeping hold of your hand, Hunter leads you away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner of the plaza where you can talk in peace. The silence lingers for a few minutes as he struggles to find the right words, scrubbing his free hand over his face, having never anticipated this moment would come. 

Unable to bear seeing him so stressed, you step closer, resting a hand against his chest. His heart thuds heavy under your palm. “H…” You breathe the little nickname you’d given him shortly after joining them all those years ago, which breaks him out of his funk. 

“You’re a kaleidoscope of everything beautiful in this galaxy.” He blurts out, catching you off guard. “Your kindness, the way you listen, how you look after everyone around you — you’ve had me captivated since the day you waltzed onto the Marauder like you owned the damn thing and introduced yourself. And now, it’s terrifying to think of my life without you in it.” Once the words start, he can’t stop them.

“And I know we’ve been friends for years, and I value that more than anything in the galaxy. But seeing him dance with you and thinking of him doing it again…” Hunter huffs, trying desperately not to get worked up. “I mean, cyar’ika, the colour…” He gestures to your dress with his free hand. “And you’re using my bandana to keep your hair up, and you picked out a perfume with me in mind...” He trails off, knowing he’s shared so much that he can’t return from it, but Maker does it feel good to get the weight off his shoulders.

A small smile weaves onto your lips, even though you know you shouldn’t be happy, given the man you love is clearly stressed. “What if I told you none of it was accidental?” You murmur, your hand on his chest smoothing across the firm plane of muscle. “That you didn’t misplace your right pauldron the other week – I borrowed it to colour match. And I purposefully asked Omega to use your bandana earlier when she was tying up my hair.” You confess, eyes darting up to watch as surprise paints itself on his handsome features.

“You know, I’ve spent countless nights replaying moments in my head, wondering if you ever picked up on how my heart races when you’re near or how I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re together. I didn’t want to make things awkward or ask for something neither of us could give in the middle of a war. But we’ve made it out the other side, so…” It’s your turn to trail off.

Your words hung in the air, and Hunter’s heart began to race, his body swirling with so many emotions it was difficult to grasp onto any of them. A rush of warmth surged through him, from the tips of his fingers to the depths of his soul. Gazing into your eyes, all he finds is pure, unwavering honesty. Your sincerity was a balm to his fears.

Hunter’s silence unnerves you, but you’re not backing out now. Not when the promise of something so much sweeter is tantalisingly close. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.” You whisper.

Hunter’s gaze never wavers from yours, and a flicker of relief crosses his eyes as he realises that this isn’t a cruel joke or an illusion. It’s real. The tension between you seems to crackle with anticipation as he takes a deep breath, finally finding the words he’s been searching for. “I’ve wanted you since the day you walked onto the Marauder.” He admits softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “I’ve tried to be strong, to protect you and the rest of the squad, to not let my feelings get the better of me. But I can’t deny it any longer. I want you with every beat of my heart, every breath I take.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity of his desire in the way he holds you and the way he looks at you. There’s no turning back now.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Hunter leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into obscurity, and it’s just the two of you finally giving in to the magnetic pull that has existed between you for so long. The kiss is a promise, a declaration of all the unspoken feelings and desires built up over the years.

As your lips parted, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged with emotion. “I want you, and I’m yours.” He whispers, his voice filled with love and longing.

A radiant smile spreads across your face, and you reply, “I’m yours too, Hunter. Always.”

His smile matches your own as he pulls back a little, though his fingers remain on your face, now stroking across your jawline. “Want to get out of here?”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you nod. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Hunter’s eyes twinkle with excitement and relief as he takes your hand and leads you away from the plaza, slipping down side streets towards your home. As you walk hand in hand, you can feel the electric connection between you two, a spark that has finally ignited into a full-blown flame.

Halfway there, Hunter pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tucks you against the side of a building, his lips finding yours. His kisses are hungry, filled with longing and desire, as if he’s been waiting forever for this moment. And in truth, he feels like he has.

As the kiss breaks, your laughter echoes in the stillness of the night, smile as bright as the stars above as he disentangles from you, drawing you out of the shadows and back towards the house. As you reach the front door, he stops, his free hand moving to your hair, plucking the flower from Dax free. Carelessly, he drops it to the floor.

“Hunter!” You exclaim, watching the delicate bloom hit the pebbled path beneath your feet.

Something dark shines in his eyes, sending a thrill through you. “The only things in your hair should be my bandana,” his hand reaches for your ponytail, giving it a gentle tug as he leans in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Or my hands.”

Breath catching, Hunter’s lips meet yours for a passionate kiss. The front door is pushed open, and you’re guided inside, steady hands grasping at your hips as he kicks the door shut behind you both.

Heart thudding as both of Hunter’s hands cup your face; you sink into his touch as his tongue slides between your lips, tasting you. He leads you up the stairs, refusing to break the kiss for even a moment as you reach his room. One hand leaves your face to push the bedroom door shut, and a moment later, you’re pressed up against it, Hunter’s body pining you in place, an arm resting on the door above your head, caging you in. That earlier sense of safety creeps back through you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Hunter’s chest heaves with each breath, a fire licking its way through his veins as you both open your eyes, gazing at one another for a split second. His head dips, mouth leaving a trail of delicate kisses along your throat, groaning as you tilt to give him better access, the prettiest moan sliding from your lips as he laves a kiss to the juncture where your shoulder and neck meet, following it with a quick, gentle nip.

Knees shaking, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until you can push the fabric off his body. The rough pads of his fingers drag across your bare thighs, breath stuttering as the hem of your dress meets his grasp. He breaks contact just long enough to lean back and lift the garment over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck…” Hunter curses quietly, eyes roving over your exposed body, the curves and dips of your frame, the swell of your bare breasts. A needy groan escapes him as he realises your panties match the dress, too.

Before self-consciousness can creep in, he’s dragging you to the bed with a hungry kiss, pushing you back onto it, kiss breaking as your back meets the soft mattress. For a moment, you both pause, drinking the other in. There’s a wildness in Hunter’s eyes you’ve never seen before, a warmth in your cheeks at how his eyes devour you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times – while sparring or coming out of the fresher, changing, or patching up wounds, but now you can look.

His broad shoulders taper to his narrow waist, and his tanned, toned skin begs to be touched. Half of him is shrouded in black ink, and a burning desire to drag your nails over the ridges of his abs has you licking your lips.

Hunter’s not faring much better, either. The sight of you sprawled on his bed in nothing but a scrap of aqua fabric, lips kiss-swollen, his bandana still in your hair, and your gorgeous tits exposed has him itching to fuck you on every surface, to fill the room with the scent of your arousal and make you scream his name over and over again. “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.” Hunter breaks the momentary silence, reaching down to palm himself through his pants.

The action draws your gaze downwards, and you watch delightfully as the man you love gives himself a stroke through the fabric.

Hunter’s nostrils flare, picking up on how the simple action drew more of your heady scent from between your thighs. At the foot of the bed, he slowly sinks down onto his knees, eyes never once leaving you. If you smell that delicious, he can only imagine how you’ll taste.

Propped up on your forearms, you watch as Hunter sinks down between your thighs, those warm brown eyes focused solely on you. Fingers skim up your calves, feather-light, gently pressing your legs wider as they reach your knees. His head turns inwards, gazes breaking as he presses soft kisses to your thighs, tongue leaving small, slow licks in their wake. He takes his time savouring you, savouring the moment.

Lips brush across the juncture between your thigh and hip, sucking small marks against your skin before Hunter buries his face against your clothed pussy, eyes shut as he presses his nose against your clit, inhaling deeply. Your scent pulls a low growl from him, the vibrations making you gasp. “So wet already. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Hunter vows, tongue pressing forward to lick across the damp fabric of your panties, making your breath stutter at the contact as your head thunks back down onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut.

Fingers prying the material down your legs, Hunter dives back between your thighs, dragging the flat of his tongue through your soaked folds, delighting in the way your hips buck and you cry out. He was right; you taste even more delicious than you smell, and he groans at your tang on his tongue.

Drawing your legs over his shoulders, he settles in, licking long, broad strokes across your pussy, familiarising himself with you. His senses home in on you, mind cataloguing every slight noise you make, every jerk of your hips, the way your breath quickens when his tongue skirts oh so close to your entrance and then circles around your clit.

Needy little whines escape you, every nerve in your body alight as Hunter teases you, lips and tongue exploring you, his nose bumping against your clit to send sparks of desire surging through you. Warmth pools in your belly, and it only grows as the wet warmth of his tongue presses against your entrance, dipping in. “Hunter…” You moan out his name, fingers burrowing into his hair as you cant your hips, grinding against his face.

Pride blooms in Hunter’s chest at your response, and he keeps going a little longer before he flicks his tongue up and across your clit, the sounds of your cries of delight like music to his ears. Hands grasping at your thighs, he presses your legs up, almost folding you in half as his tongue sweeps side to side, teasing his way back down your pussy as he has greater access.

The change in angle makes you moan, free hand clawing at the sheets while your hips rock, chasing the delight of his mouth. A light suck on your clit makes you gasp, the warmth in your belly building with every swipe of his talented tongue. Dragging his tongue around the edge of your folds, he draws an arch, skirting around the top of your clit again. “Hunter, please.” You crack, desperate for him.

You feel him smile against you, releasing one of your thighs, fingers roaming up your body until his tattooed hand gently squeezes one of your breasts. His mouth is relentless, tongue finding your clit, firmly moving side to side over the sensitive bud as those talented fingers of his tweak your pebbled nipple.

The warmth crescendos, spilling over, and you cry out his name as your release slams into you, making your body shudder, gasping for breath at its intensity.

Hunter works you through the high, and as you whine at the overstimulation, his mouth leaves you, fingers letting go of your nipple to smooth over the soft skin of your breast. “Beautiful.” He whispers reverently, tongue darting out to lick his lips and drink up the taste of you as he watches you come down from the high, your heavy-lidded eyes opening to meet his gaze.

With your hand in his hair, you guide him up your body, small hums of delight leaving you as he peppers kisses across your stomach and chest, laving little licks across your breasts as he drags you further up the bed. He breaks away for a second, using one hand to remove his belt and shuck off his pants.

You watch as he strips completely, acres of tanned skin finally revealed. As he ditches his boxers, his hard cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, thighs parting a little wider. You relish the low groan the action pulls from him before he takes himself in hand, fist sliding along his shaft for a few pumps. He’s average in length but thicker than you expected - anticipation coils through you.

He prowls up the bed, settling above you, letting a little of his weight rest against you. Dark eyes meet yours, and you can’t hold back your smile, fingers reaching up to trace along his face. Drawing his head down, you steal a kiss, letting the moment build as your eyes flutter shut, tongues brushing together. Hunter shifts above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other dips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock as he teases the velvety head through your soaked folds. Achingly slowly, he presses forward, your lips parting as you let out a soft moan at the stretch as he eases into you inch by inch.

“That’s it, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re so pretty, taking all of me like a good girl.” He whispers against your lips, enjoying how your breathing changes and your heart races at his words. You feel like heaven as he bottoms out, hips flush against you, chests pressed together as his hand moves back to the side of your head, redistributing his weight.

The stretch as Hunter fills you is exquisite, and your eyes open to gaze up at him in awe that this is happening – that this incredible man is yours. The first slow roll of his hips has your head tilting backwards, a breathy sigh filling the room.

The pace builds, your hands reaching for him, dragging up his back and down his flanks, nails scraping along flushed skin, making him grunt at the combination of pleasure and pain. Desire coils through you, building with every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock as he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in. He leans down to kiss you, demanding tongue sliding between your lips to taste you.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me. Made for me.” Hunter growls and the sound of your bodies meeting creates a background of white noise. “Won’t last long, baby. You feel too good. Fucking dreamed of this.” He adds, supporting his weight with one hand again, thrusts never faltering as he reaches down to grasp one of your legs, hauling it up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before he pushes your leg towards your chest, the change in angle enabling him to thrust into you even deeper.

Eyes falling shut once again as he drives you closer to the edge, you whine and whimper as his cock repeatedly rubs against your g-spot. The hand he’d used to pry your leg up moves to your breast, fingers tweaking your pebbled nipple again before he gently squeezes. Your name falls from his lips, raspy alongside his command. “Come for me.”

Between his hands, cock, and voice, you’re powerless to resist. Fingers scrambling at his body for purchase, your back arches as you cry out his name, desire bubbling over into a rush of euphoria that sweeps through your body and momentarily renders you speechless. Tremors wrack through you, toes curling as you desperately pant for breath, hazy eyes opening to look up at him.

Feeling you come apart, watching you fall into pleasure beneath him, was more than Hunter could’ve ever asked for. You were beautiful every day, but lost in the throes of an orgasm he’d given you? You were divine. He could feel the pressure building, feel himself teetering on that edge.

“Where?” The roughness of Hunter’s voice caresses you, warm puffs of his breath tickling your ear from where he’s bent down to bring you both even closer, caging you under him as his thrusts grow sloppy, muscles taut under your hands.

“In me, please.” You whisper back, and the deep moan he lets out will forever be seared into your mind.

Hunter gives a few final thrusts before he presses in as deep as he can, a guttural sound leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, thighs shaking as he hits his own peak, the pressure evaporating into molten bliss as he gives you everything. Slowly, the pleasure pulls back, like the tide, and he swallows thickly as his eyes open, breath catching at the sight of you.

You’re gazing up at him like he hung all the stars in the galaxy, indescribable love woven through your features. Carefully, he lowers your raised leg, fingers rubbing to return some of the feeling as his lips meet yours with a tenderness that could only come from years of shared moments, mouths moving in perfect harmony, a slow, sensuous exploration of one another.

Hand sliding to your waist, Hunter holds you still as he gently eases himself out of you, shifting to lay on his side, drawing you against his chest.

You nestle into his embrace. Your fingers trace the contours of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The years of laughter and tears, the countless shared experiences, and the trust built over time have all culminated in this moment.

Hunter presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He draws lazy circles on your back, a comforting motion that brings you a sense of security and belonging.

With your bodies pressed together, you both revel in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The room is filled with a peaceful stillness, and you listen to the soft melody of your combined breaths, knowing that this love is the anchor that holds you both steady in a still-turbulent galaxy.

[noroi1000]

Kawaii Sensei

part two

paring: Student Gojo (18) x sensei reader (22)

Summary: You are their new teacher. You are young, and they consider you very loving and kind. You're considered cute by one student. You are his kawaii sensei. And he loves you...

Warnings: short NSFW

"Good morning everyone. My name is (y/n) (l/n). From today I am your new teacher." You said with a nice smile, looking at the three people in front of you.

Were you expecting a little more enthusiasm...

At least a little smile...

Meanwhile, you were standing there looking at the short-haired brunette who looked like she hadn't slept at all. On the other hand, they were dark haired in a bun with a neutral looking face (at least he looked nice), his face was neither serious nor smiling, so you consider it a good sign. The other boy with white hair looked like he wanted to leave here. As if he didn't want to be in this class at all...

"So..." You started clasping your hands together.

You're not much older than them... This is your first day as a teacher at this school.

You graduated from this school some time ago, but your skills weren't very high, so you couldn't count on being higher in the hierarchy. And since you like children, you chose to teach at the Jujutsu school.

Besides, teachers are very much needed in such a school.

Few people can teach in a school like this, and you were a sorcerer, so you had the opportunity. So you chose to teach kids instead of doing missions all the time.

"...Want to know something about me? Or tell me something about yourself?" You gave them a nice smile.

But the principal of the place came to the room. The man who just a few days ago became the principal.

He was the man you took over teaching this class. And you still did not expect what adventure awaits you while you teach this one white-haired boy.

He was practically your teacher a few years ago.

You even remember him well.

And he agreed to let you teach at least one class so that he would have a little less work.

He ran for the position of principal and succeeded.

Therefore, he will have a little more responsibilities. Now at least you'll do it for him a bit.

He's always liked you, that's why he let you go, and he believed you could do everything and look good.

However, you don't understand why he finds these three students troublesome...

Okay, even before you came here, you heard that the white-haired one is sometimes a problem. And sometimes with him his best friend.

You wish you had come here as their teacher now and not from their first day of school.

They are now in their second year. So they know more than the basics.

Besides, these two are already a higher grade than you...

It doesn't bother you because you don't care where you are on the level that much. Sometimes these divisions don't make sense...

You're semi-grade 1 and they're grade 1. And Yaga told you that their skill is still increasing so he's sure they're capable of going into special grade.

Therefore, you are not to save them.

You probably wouldn't be able to murder them in training... You don't want them to experience the same as you in training...

But they still look like well-built young men. So you can guess that Yaga has exhausted them already.

You're not a fan of 24/7 non-stop training.

Poor guys... You don't want to know what they went through before you were their teacher.

Now you're going to make sure they don't hate classes with you.

As far as you know, the white-haired one is Gojo Satoru, who possesses both of his bloodline's powerful techniques. Character description by Yaga: conceited, selfish, inconsiderate, irritating, but very capable and trustworthy. Addicted to sugar and sometimes childish.

The dark-haired boy is Geto Suguru. They both are best friends. He comes from a family of non-sorcerers and possesses the technique of manipulating curses. You are not to be nervous when you sense curse energy, because his cursed energy is just like curses. Character description by Yaga: more composed and calm. He can be like Satoru sometimes. A talented boy who will always get used to the situation.

And the girl is Ieiri Shoko. She's not often included in teddy bears because she's here learning to master the reverse cursed technique.

So far you've only received them. I guess you should make it.

"This is your new teacher. I have more responsibilities than looking after you, so I'm assigning you to her. Don't embarrass me in front of my former student." You looked at the man with a small smile and nodded that he might leave you.

As you stood in front of them, you began to get more nervous.

"I don't know where to start... I know you're training outside today... Sorry, but it's my first day as a teacher..." you said nervously. "The only thing I know about you is something from Yaga-san...your names as well as your skills. I'd like to get to know you more since we spend the next few years together. And who knows, maybe one of you will want to become a teacher later?"

You met the eyes of the white haired man.

You blush with shame. It must have been a bit visible, right? Since none of them even responded...

You hoped that someday you would be able to get close to them and start working with them normally.

It used to be. Half a year ago.

It was completely different now.

You were like a real teacher to them.

They did not expect that they would be able to be so close to the teacher.

They felt like you were their friend and not their teacher, even if you were giving them assignments or teaching them in class.

And there was something no one expected either.

According to one of them, you were adorable.

Cute sensei.

Of course you blushed when you found out. Because no one ever thought you were cute before.

But well, you didn't expect such a comment from anyone...

You were very protective of them.

You knew that your students liked you very much.

You got chocolates from Satoru on Valentine's Day. You don't know if it was a coincidence because he also ate his, or if he gave it to you on purpose.

You couldn't feel anything for the student... It was probably forbidden... You didn't want to take it badly.

So you stood on tiptoe and stroked his soft hair, enjoying the white stripes under your fingers.

You saw his blue eyes widen slightly as you did, and his cheeks flushed a nice pink.

You smiled at him, thanking him with all your heart.

It was the first time you got something for Valentine's Day from someone.

And you felt so good about it. Even if he was your student.

You didn't know that right after that he went to his friend with a big smile.

"Why are you smiling like that? And why don't you ever knock when you enter my room..." he muttered seeing the white haired boy sit down quickly on his bed and lay down with a big smile like an idiot.

It was as if he had overdosed on sugar even more than ever.

"Something happened to make you so happy?"

"She took the chocolates from me!" He said happily.

"Wait... Did you really give it to her?" he asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"Yeah! And she smiled! It was so cute! And you know what she did then?!"

"She's probably touched you somehow or said something nice... But there's no way she's kissed you... You'll have to wait until the grave with that fantasy...

"She stroked my head!"

"He often does this to us..." he replied.

He didn't want his best friend to get overexcited that you might let him in.

Geto knew very well that his best friend fell in love with you.

First they talked about you, and then he started to think you were cool. Until the end, he thought you were pretty and charming.

You never did anything they didn't want. You were still their teacher, but your teaching was so much better.

You weren't that strict, and you asked what they wanted.

You were kind and so soft.

It was cute.

And Geto might have expected Gojo to be attracted to you.

Someone who likes your behavior and enjoys your company.

Until one day he told him that he must have fallen in love with you.

He couldn't stop thinking about you.

He didn't like to see you walking next to anyone other than him.

He was even jealous that you gave him less attention than usual. Then he would come to you asking for an explanation of something he knew very well or wanted to ask for help with a non-existent problem. Those were his excuses to meet you to give him more attention than others.

"But she did it to me with such a cute smile!"

Geto didn't want him to be disappointed by unrequited love...

You were older than them. Perhaps you already had a boyfriend or husband. It would be very difficult for him to dissuade Gojo from loving you. But for the sake of his psyche, he wanted to do it.

He didn't want his friend to be heartbroken.

"What if (y/n)-sensei got other chocolates, like from her boyfriend?" He asked.

He preferred to gently show him that it may turn out that there is already someone in your life.

They didn't know exactly how old you were, and they didn't know much about your private life either.

There was no wedding ring on your finger, and you didn't talk on the phone often, which you basically would if you had a boyfriend or a husband.

It might also be surprising that you had a house near the school and when they were there because you invited them to dinner, they didn't see anyone but you there.

It's like there's no one else in your life.

Sure, Geto doesn't prohibit Gojo from having a happy relationship. However, he didn't want his heart to break if it turned out otherwise.

"I've never heard that she has anyone."

"Satoru, we don't even know how old she is."

"She's a little older than us. She's only just qualified to become a real teacher."

The dark-haired sighed.

"I don't want you to react badly, but we don't know what she thinks of you. She might as well consider you a nice student. I'm sure she would never play with your feelings, but I don't want you to be disappointed with your feelings." He said calmly. "This is probably the first time you fell in love with. You're happy, I get it. But..."

"I know. What do you say we ask tomorrow how old she is? I doubt she'll refuse to answer us."

That's how you ended up walking between them as you headed to the field to practice.

You felt more and more squeezed by them. Why did they have to be so tall?

You felt Satoru getting closer and closer to you.

Until you finally heard the first question you didn't expect.

"(y/n)-sensei, may we know how old are you?" he asked suddenly coming very close to you.

You looked at him questioningly. But you felt so small and intimidated by his eyes.

"I'm just asking out of curiosity... I've heard more than once that you're only a little older than us, so it's just curiosity."

"...Um... Satoru-kun... I'm actually 22 years old. Soon 23." You said calmly.

You couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his touching your skin.

Satoru-kun is handsome, but you can't think of him other than as a student. It is true that your young mind is speaking here, telling you that you are of similar age and you could at least try. Because he seems to be interested in you somehow.

You like him a lot. Maybe if you weren't as a teacher...

He's 18. I'm sure he'll find someone better than you.

You were snapped out of your trance of thoughts by his next personal question.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He asked looking at you.

You blushed and jumped back slightly at the question.

"S-Satoru-kun, I-I don't think it should matter, right...?" You said nervously.

Suguru didn't answer.

"I just wanted to know. A cool sensei like you doesn't deserve any asshole."

Your distraction made you really careless.

That's why you didn't even notice that you were about to come down the stairs. You were all red because of his words. And you didn't notice the dip under your leg.

"Wah! Be careful!"

You heard just that and felt him pull your arm back, wrapping his arms around you.

When you realized that you had almost fallen down the stairs, you were pressed against your student's chest.

If only you were older, he wouldn't even want to be so close to you!

You could have skipped a few more years until you were in your thirties!

Maybe then your mind wouldn't rather take vengeance to heaven when you look at your student you could practically say you love...!

You wanted to burn yourself with shame...

You were supposed to look after them, not them you.

"Wow, be careful, kawaii sensei." He said, pushing you away gently.

What did he call you?!

"Umm... What?"

"What?"

"Um..." you murmured.

"What "What?", Sensei?"

"...Nothing..."

You tried to leave to join Suguru at the bottom of the stairs.

But he grabbed your hand.

"Is it what I called you, sensei?" He smiled.

It was a cute but slightly cocky smile.

But with something like this on his face.

Maybe you can quit your job here before your face catches fire from the heat?

This was your second such situation.

First chocolates, then you hear a student call you cute, then he practically asks you to pat his head like you always did and now he hugs you, asks if you have a boyfriend and also calls you "kawaii sensei"?

What is this?!

You were nice to them because you wanted to. But you didn't expect that someone who didn't seem to mind having another teacher at first would suddenly start to be so close to you.

You are friends???

Are you any closer than you should be???

You are four years older than him!

And he is already an adult! You didn't expect him to act like that, he should be doing that to his girlfriend, not to the teacher!

He suddenly leaned lower to your face.

"You are kawaii sensei. My favorite teacher I've ever had." He chuckled and his lips curved into a kind smile.

Teachers can be close to students. And there is nothing strange about it.

But should it be that you feel butterflies in your stomach when he does something like that?

Should it be that he feels butterflies in his stomach when you're next to him? 

You tried to forget about this situation.

But he didn't know how long he would last.

You gave them a completely different job than usual. It was an art class.

You didn't feel like doing anything, neither did they.

So you wanted to teach them to do some origami. It can be very relaxing if you have to talk about it.

A change from those activities that even you get tired of sometimes.

You're also fed up with the fact that you feel so warm in this classroom, and your bed at home is often cold and empty.

Their energy here is nice. And there's only you in your house.

It would be a nice change if you ever had any visitors there.

Why don't you invite them to dinner sometime?

You practically didn't answer Satoru's question he asked earlier. What could you say? You don't have and have never had a boyfriend.

When you went to school here, you were alone in the class. Turns out your year didn't have that many sorcerers. However, there were more people in classes older than you and younger.

You tried your best to be a warm and kind senpai to the younger ones.

That's why you liked the idea of ​​becoming a teacher.

You calmly ran Suguru's fingers over the paper, showing him how to fold the paper properly.

Satoru wondered how nice your hands felt...

He wanted you to show him that too. And she touched his hand.

He was jealous of his best friend.

"Sensei! Can you also show me? I think I ruined it." He said, raising his hand to get your attention.

Honestly, you didn't expect them to be interested in doing this at all.

You walked over to the white haired boy.

He showed you a piece of paper in front of him.

"How do I start?" He asked looking at you.

"Bend the corners of the paper inwards." You said pointing to the right and left corners.

"How?" He asked.

He knew, but he wanted you to guide his hands.

You took your piece of paper and showed him how to fold it.

"Sensei, from what I can see, you folded the bottom corners of the paper."

"You have to do it with the upper ones." you said.

"will you show me I don't want to spoil it."

"What kind of origami do you even do?"

"I wanted from a heart template. It looks nice." He said calmly.

You also tried to stay calm.

"Fine, so bend like in the template I gave you, what to do step by step."

"Will you show me like you showed Suguru?" he asked with puppy dog ​​eyes.

Until you finally gave in.

You stood behind him, grabbing the piece of paper in front of him. And you folded the paper.

You gave him a list of how to perish the paper.

"How am I supposed to hold it?" He asked.

You felt like you were with a child.

But you grabbed his hands and fingers, guiding them.

You smiled slightly. You were curious how big his hands are compared to yours. And that really was the difference.

And he smiled at the feeling of your warm hands.

He tilted his head back, looking at you.

Sending you a warm smile.

"How about I bring you cookies tomorrow?" You asked pleasantly.

You could somehow distract yourself from how cold it was in your house sometimes.

You were smiling all the time at school for them. But you really wish you had the same at home.

I think you need to find yourself a boyfriend...

Because it's probably impossible for Satoru-kun to be so interested in you.

I was making cookie dough when he came home. Until suddenly you heard a knock on the door.

You quickly went to see who it was.

You saw Gojo who said earlier that he can help you prepare the cookies.

You appreciated his help.

But he came with other intentions.

Either you reject it or you accept it.

You either you reject him , push him away, or hit him back.

The moment he kicked off his shoes and the door closed, you felt his lips on yours.

When his body pressed you against the wall in your house.

He wanted to at least enjoy this one moment. Even if you could have rejected him.

However, you never behave the same at home as you do at school.

You are such a nice and sweet person. And such people who care for someone else cannot be neglected by being home alone. With no one around.

You could have pushed him away, punched him in the face.

But you didn't.

Especially after he mumbled into his declaration of love.

You didn't push him away. You didn't hit. You didn't reject his feelings.

You just accepted it.

He's young, but his heart doesn't lie.

He loves you and doesn't want it any other way.

He wants you to be together.

That's why...

That's why you didn't reject him. Because you started feeling the same.

Especially by his behavior.

The warmth he gave you.

You finished the cookies with him. With his arms around you.

With his mouth on your face or neck while you had your back to him.

Your house has become pleasantly warm. Thanks to him.

You waited for the cookies to bake, kissing without saying a word.

Was it really okay?

It was fine...

You weren't much older than him. He's an adult and he's decided he wants it.

Your bed hasn't been this warm in a while.

It got hot as you lay underneath him, your legs spread wide for him, as his oversized cock for a young man rammed into your virgin pussy. By ridding you of any illusions that he loves you.

His hands held you tight as he moved faster and faster, hitting your wet walls.

Your first was your apprentice. And you don't regret it. Because he is someone you love.

You're 22, and now you've found happiness.

You might not even have left Jujutsu High. You could have stayed there and watched him first appear there.

It would leave you a little more room for imagination.

You could see his whole body now. When naked, he hovered above you.

His muscles rippled with his every move.

And you can't stop thinking about how handsome he is.

Your back arched as he made you moan for him.

He beat against your body at a steady, hard pace as you got used to the new feeling of his cock stretching.

"Several times I've thought how nice it would be to have you like this..." he groaned. And his words mixed with his breaths and your soft moans as well as the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

Dirty scenes flashed through your mind as your student jerks around in his room saying something he would say to you.

And so it was.

He did it by imagining you underneath him.

That he was cumming on you instead of the sheets.

And now his erotic dreams have come true.

Because he could bury his cock in your tight pussy and touch your body. See you whole.

Hear you moan his name.

So your red face that contorts in pleasure.

After all, he had his kawaii sensei the way he wanted.

And he will no longer share your attention.

Because he is your warmth at home.

You are his happiness.

You could spend as much time with him as he wanted. You didn't have to worry about the cookies burning.

[kingkatsuki]

Bakugou is completely obsessed with you, but he’s not ready to let you go. Based on this.

Warnings: 18+, yandere kinda themes, obsessive love, stalking, harassment.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.5k.

Bakugou Katsuki was like the dream man— A guy that every girl wishes she could have. Driven, successful and drop dead gorgeous. Of course you’d said yes when he asked you to dinner, why wouldn’t you?

But you got to see a side of Bakugou Katsuki that no one else saw, a side reserved just for you.

You could say that he fell hard and fast, barely two months in he was asking you to move in with him. An excuse that it made no sense for you to keep commuting to visit him after work, your conflicting schedules already made it difficult to juggle your work and home life balance. Plus, you’d save on rent— which had been something plaguing you for the past year when your landlord decided to increase the cost at short notice, forcing you to take on extra hours to try and make ends meet.

It seemed like the perfect solution, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Until you weren’t.

The proposal had come as a surprise, a hopeful look in his eyes as he held a ring box out to you on the couch one evening. A gleaming diamond sat securely in a silver band as he asked you the question— ignoring all the alarm bells ringing in your head at the fact that it had barely been three months as you said yes.

Over the months that you’d been dating you began to notice the silent possession that Bakugou seemed to have on you. The increasing amount of texts asking where you were or what you were doing, who you were with. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen your best friends, the last time you’d seen your family.

“I’m lookin’ after you though, ain’t I?” Bakugou would always say whenever you talked about going to see them or spend time with them.

“I just like you being here when I come home,” He nods, pressing buttons on the microwave to warm the food you’d prepared for him, “Let’s me know that you’re safe.”

Safe. That’s what Bakugou would always say whenever he checked up on you, the same thing he’d say whenever you’d tell him you were thinking about going out with your friends.

But it’s too much, it’s suffocating the way that even when you’re out with his friends he keeps you attached to his hip.

His friends would explain the reason why he’s like this. The worry and fear he has of losing you because of who he is. The number of powerful villains and criminals that would be out to take everything from him in a second, the horrible depraved people out there who would do the most deplorable things to you.

But little did you know, Bakugou was the worst of them all.

His insecurities made it difficult to ever reassure him that you’d never leave him, that you’d never break up with him. Feeing him words of love and affirmation while he’d hold you tighter, burying his face into your shoulder as he mumbled out pleas to “never leave me,” and “you’re mine forever”. Words that you’d longed to hear when you first got together, but now they just made you feel numb.

“I thought we were spending time together tonight?” He’d asked when he saw you at the door toeing your heels on, “We haven’t seen each other all week.”

“I saw you this morning, silly.” You smile at him with glossed lips, “I’ll only be a few hours.”

“But I planned the whole evening,” He rasped, “Even made your favourite.”

“I can warm it up when I get home,” You smiled.

“Come on, baby. You can be thirty minutes late, right?” And he gave you that look you always seemed to fall for.

The same one that had you bent over the kitchen counter as he pounded into you from behind, smearing your red lipstick across your cheeks as he pulled your face back for a sloppy kiss. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each rough thrust as he spilled his spend into your trembling cunt. Feeling it trickle down your thighs as he pulled out, fingertips pushing it back inside you messily. Glancing at the clock on the wall you knew you’d have no time to make it out now, especially with your outfit and makeup ruined. Letting Bakugou undress you gently as he pulled his oversized hoodie over your head, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s just go to bed.”

He’d taken it surprisingly well the first time you’d told him you needed space, a break. Sitting at the foot of your shared bed while you packed a bag, deciding that you’d stay with Mina for a few nights before seeing how you felt after. Even offering to drive you to her apartment as he placed the bag in the boot of his car.

But it wasn’t even two hours later that he was texting you again.

Bakugou[8.56PM]: I hope you settled in okay.

Bakugou[8.58PM]: I miss you.

Bakugou[8.59PM]: I love you, baby.

Bakugou[9.05PM]: When do you think you’ll be coming home?

You blocked his number that night, trying to give yourself the space you needed to breathe. But it wasn’t long before Bakugou was banging on the front door, demanding to see you and make sure that you were safe. Escorted away by an apologetic Kirishima as you were finally left alone for the night.

In the days after that, you finally feel what it’s like to breathe again. Going out with friends you hadn’t spoken to in months, even just going shopping on your own. Strolling through the park and finding a peaceful bench to read your book as you seemingly found yourself again.

But little did you know that you weren’t really alone. Bakugou always seemed to run into you. Even when he was supposed to be in meetings, or on patrol he always managed to find out exactly where you were in the city.

He’d seen red one evening when you’d been out for drinks with your friends and had seen your friends boyfriend helping you carry some drinks from the bar. Sparking palms shoving him away from you as glasses crashed to the floor, pining him against a wall by his neck as you begged and pleaded for Bakugou to let him go.

“I thought he was bothering you, baby.” His eyes soften when he turns to you, reaching out to hold you as you step back, noticing the pained expression on his face, “You know I’d never hurt you, right? Right…”

The next morning you applied for a restraining order. Thinking this would be what it would take to give you the space you needed, but that piece of paper didn’t stop him.

The messages from burner phones continued to come through at all hours of the day, begging and pleading to talk to him. Telling you how much he missed you, needed you.

Bakugou[2.01AM]: Why have you stopped wearing your ring?

The words had your blood running cold, because you’d only decided to stop wearing it the previous day— and there was no way for him to know that you were no longer wearing it unless he’d seen you.

The same unknown numbers would send lewd selfies that you’d shared with Bakugou back to you, giving you a constant fear that he’d shared them online and posted them for everyone to see. But luckily for you, he was so obsessed that he wouldn’t let anyone else see what he deemed as his.

He wasn’t ready to let you go, and he wouldn’t.

Sending you gifts to your workplace, full of sickly sweet messages of love and longing. Telling you how much he missed you and how much he needed to see you.

Trying to rebuild your life was worse, though. Because who would be brave enough to date Dynamight’s ex-girlfriend, ex-fiancé. Especially when the Pro was very clearly still in love with you.

Any man brave enough to try would get messages and threats directly from the Pro-Hero, or visits to their places of work. He’d even had one high-profile businessman fired from his position because he’d seen him commenting on one of your photographs on Instagram.

The final nail in the coffin was articles plastered all over the national tabloids that spoke about your abusive relationship, stories that would definitely have an impact on Dynamight’s hero ranking. “Dynamight’s ex-girlfriend gets restraining order on the volatile hero. Is it time we strip him of his license?”

But Dynamight didn’t have one of the best PR teams in the world for nothing. The rebuttals and official statements that came out after were drafted to put all the blame on you, calling you a creepy obsessive fangirl who was only interested in taking his money. And there were even tweets about you from the official Dynamight account, posts you could tell Bakugou hadn’t made himself. Learning that much in the short time you’d been dating him.

“He just misses you, that’s all.” Kirishima gave you a small smile as you sat across from him in a quaint coffee shop.

“Then why is he letting them post all this shit about me? Why won’t he just tell the truth.”

You could tell that his friend was torn between his love for his best friend, and his worry for you.

“It’s not him, it’s his team. They’re trying to save his ranking, the annual draw is next month.” Kirishima took a sip of his coffee, “He just misses you a lot.”

“I just don’t know if I love him anymore,” You mumble.

[angelsworks]

Yandere!Cullen Brothers x Human! reader

Type: Headcannon

Requested: No

Summary: The Cullen brothers being your yanderes

Warnings: Dark, yandere themes, kidnap, possessiveness, etc

In the vampire world there are blood singers - Humans that had especially alluring blood, that called to specific vampires.

In the vampire world there were also soulmates. A being destined to be yours forever. In most cases fate matched vampires to other vampires. Yet there were always exceptions to the rule.

You were that exception.

The Cullens were a close knit group.

The leader Carlisle had found and turned his soulmate years ago. Now he lived in bliss with his wife and soulmate Esme.

Alice had come searching for Rosalie when she was first turned. Having visions of a golden haired Angel. It lead her to find Carlisle and the rest of his ever growing clan. She too found her mate.

Edward, the first turned off the coven, hadn’t found his in his century of eternal life.

Later additions to the coven included Emmet and Jasper. Both mateless too.

While it wasn’t ideal to watch half of the coven happily mated, they dealt with it. If anything it made the three grow closer as brothers.

Yet when you come along they’re all shocked.

It’s practically unheard of for a vampire to have a human mate.

More than that for you to be mates to three of them.

At first they don’t behave very brotherly towards each other.

At school they act civil, but at home tensions run high.

The three of them are desperate for your attention. But they aren’t alone.

Being the new student everyone wants to talk to you. Leading you to be occupied a lot of then time.

They don’t want to crowd you or scare you. So they try to keep their distance.

While they keep their distance at school and in public, they all secretly stalk watch you from afar.

Edward was probably the first to start this. Visiting you while you slept, going through your bedroom. Examining all your trinkets and decorations.

Occasionally, he’ll take things from your room. Maybe it’s a piece of clothing, jewellery, a well loved book. He wants to feel close to you, to try and understand you.

Jasper shares a couple of his classes with you. He uses the class to watch you, not just stare but intently study. He studies how you talk, how you take notes, your posture, how you do your hair. He becomes an expert.

His gift is how he feels close to you. He uses it to feel your emotions. It gives him a deeper insight into what you truly like and dislike and how you feel on the inside.

While Emmet doesn’t have a gift, he doesn’t let it stop him. His brothers may be keeping their distance but he tends to break these rules.

Maybe one day you drop your books. He helps you pick them up then offers to carry them to class for you.

You both realise you share your next class, leading you to sit next to him. From here you get talking more. You grow close to Emmet, both as a friend and romantically.

To say Edward and Jasper are jealous is a grand understatement. While they like keeping their distance they decide it’s time to introduce themselves properly.

Edward makes his introduction in a class you share. Having practiced the previous night to not mess up, it goes well.

Jasper makes his introduction in the Libary. Striking up a conversation about the work you’re doing or the book you’re reading.

After they’ve all introduced themselves and are talking to you separately, Jasper notes to the other two that you’re feeling overwhelmed.

It’s here they decide they need to work together more. In the end you’ll be with the three of them anyway. They’ve had enough arguments and fights about it.

At first Edward was against turning you. Wanting to save your soul from eternal damnation.

Yet as time with you passes by, he realises he doesn’t want to lose you.

When they work together they decide to ask Alice and Rosalie to befriend you. Thinking that if you had different people to talk to that weren’t them, you wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.

While they are extremely possessive of you, having you become friends with Alice and Rosalie isn’t a problem. They trust them as sisters and know they have no romantic interest in you.

The friendship leads to you being invited over to the Cullen residence frequently. During your time there it makes it easier for them to interact with you and watch you.

Sometimes you don’t even notice their longing glances.

At some point they all become frustrated. They want more from you but are restricted. By school, by your friends, by your family.

So they start to plan. With the help from Alice and Rosalie over the course of your final year at school, they convince you to apply to a university in Alaska. One that they themselves will be attending.

After you graduate they’ll make their move.

While everyone just assumes you’ve gone of to university, they know different.

They take you deep into the mountains, away from everyone else. Just the three of them for you.

In a little wooden house you’ll live. Watched 24/7 by the three of them. They tell you about you being their soulmate and them being vampires. At some point they have to show you because you don’t believe them.

You’re undoubtedly scared at first. But being isolated, you develop Stockholm syndrome quickly.

When they turn you (which you don’t have much choice in) you’ll be dependent on them.

Emmet’s strength comes in handy if you think you can get the upper hand and escape.

Jasper uses his powers to influence how you feel about them.

Edward uses his powers to monitor your thoughts. Any that could be a problem are shared with the others quickly.

Life with the three of them means you have no privacy.

It means you’re theirs completely.

[mixvyu]

Parfum d’étoile - episode twelve part two

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

★-

"Weren’t you suppose to be smart?"

"Fuck off Scaramouche, this shit just doesn’t make sense how am I supposed to link those three completely different subjects together?"

"I hate to side up with him, i really do, i swear, but it’s actually kind of easy frankly the hardest is to pick which info we keep and which one we ditch."

You could Scaramouche snicker beside you but you decided not to give him the time of day

"Let’s just save that and come back to it later, yeah?" You suggested, trying to shift the conversation to another topic.

“It’s getting late we should probably just call it a day" Kazuha said, looking at the time on his phone.

"Thank gods i don’t think i could spend one more minute working with her" Scaramouche added, pulling out his own phone "What do you guys want to eat?"

"Aww, you’re not throwing me out? I’m flattered, Kuni." you emphasised both of the syllables of the nickname.

You could hear Kazuha choke on his 4th cup of tea of the evening "Wow I didn’t know you guys were close like that" he said in between coughs.

"Neither did I. Don’t call me that." Scaramouche replied, almost instantly, while looking deep into your eyes. The humour in his demeanour long forgotten.

"Why does Kazuha get to call you that but I can’t? It’s unfair if you ask me." you said, trying to lighten up the mood even just a little bit.

"I’ve known him for more than a decade it’s completely different." discomfort settled in before Scaramouche continued with a more lighthearted tune "What food do you like, Y/N?" The question made you sigh in relief. Maybe he wasn’t mad, maybe it just caught him off guard.

"I like Italian food!" You exclaimed enthusiastically at the thought of a meal that you wouldn’t have to pay with the small amount of money left in your bank account.

"Ok so not that. Kazuha?" Scaramouche followed, eyes focusing on the other man beside you.

"Japanese sounds good right now" he answered immediately. He looked so focused on the ceiling on top of him the fact that he even listened to Scaramouche’s question had you shocked.

"Can’t believe you out of all people is letting me down."

"Sorry, a sacrifice had to be made." Kazuha teased, still looking at the beige ceiling

Scaramouche replies a lazy "mkay" to his friends request and gets up to call a japanese restaurant he apparently already had in his contact, probably because of the frequency of take-out the two boys regularly ordered. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t asked any of you what you wanted to order, you assumed he already had his and Kazuha’s orders memorised and that you’d just have to be okay with whatever he’d order for you.

If he even ordered for you, that is.

"What in the world possessed you to call him that?" Kazuha hushed voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

He wasn’t looking above him anymore and gave you what appeared to be an alarmed looked.

You didn’t get what he was talking about at first, but without thinking much you realised this was about you stealing the nickname he used for Scaramouche and the not-so-great reaction that followed.

"I just wanted to get his reaction, didn’t think he’d get all serious." You explained. It was simply reasoning really.

"Yeah, he really doesn’t like his birthname. At all."

"Why?"

"Uh… I think it’d be best to ask him directly." Kazuha said, looking away for the first time during the conversation

"He’d kill me if i did that!" you whispered-yelled

He looked back at you, then looked to the left. He seemed deep in reflexion, pouting a little and letting out a small "mm" sound before staring at you again "I don’t think he’d do more than manhandle you a bit, frankly, maybe a punch of two."

"Why are you acting like it’s nothing much?? I don’t want to get punched or manhandled! At all!" You grabbed your own cheeks out of instinct, as if you were protecting yourself from Scaramouche’s imminent hit.

"Then you’ll have to live in ignorance." he shrugged, grabbing one of the snacks on the table before realising that dinner will arrive any time soon and putting it back down.

"Can’t you tell me instead?" You pleaded, attempting to woo him with puppy dog eyes

"I don’t want to be the one he’ll pick a fight with." The wooing was ineffective

"I sacrificed Italian for japanese food, you can sacrifice that!" you were shaking him by now, you’re sure that, if he’d ask, you’d go as far as to plead on your knees for him to give you the answer you so deeply wanted.

"It’s not remotely close! You can have Italian later but i can’t get unbeaten up!" He said, still whispering

"You’re just a coward."

"What are you guys whispering about?" Scaramouche came back, having seemingly finished his phone call.

You were sweating a bit and your eyes were wide open, you looked like you’ve be caught red handed.

A long "uhh" left your mouth, you looked back at Kazuha hoping he’d be the one to find a non-suspicious reply to give to the man standing in front of you both.

"You."

You wanted to slap him so badly.

"What about me?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious of the topic you guys were discussing, and you couldn’t blame him : if someone told you they’ve been murmuring about you behind your back (literally), you’d be curious too.

"Y/N wanted to know why you changed your name."

You kicked Kazuha’s legs and he let out a soft, almost inaudible, "ow"

Scaramouche squinted, analysing your face. You gulped nervously, praying that there was an option other than the punching or manhandling.

"Not telling." He simply said, making a "umph" sound as he crossed his arms.

You simply looked at Kazuha, who was already looking at you, amused.

"Sorry, i might have exaggerated." he stated, a huge grin creeping on his face

Before you could curse him out he got off of the sofa for the first time in hours. Right as he got up, the purple head let himself fall down on your other side, apparently tired from standing for 5 minutes.

"I’ll go get the cans of beer i bought" the white and red haired man said, stretching before making his way to the kitchen

"You bought beer?" Scaramouche asked enthusiastically

"What? You didn’t even unload the groceries?" You could both hear him from the small kitchen, the sound of rustling through the groceries he bought some hours ago making itself audible

"No, I was lazy so I just put the bag up on the counter and left."

Kazuha sighed and mumbled "There was ice cream in there…"

He came back a few seconds afterwards, a pack of six cans in hands.

"Ooh nice." Frankly, you didn’t really like the taste of beer but maybe drinking with the two guys would make you all closer and you were excited at the thought.

Scaramouche leaned in and whispered into your ear "Don’t get too excited, he’ll drink all of this before you even get the chance to lay your hand on one of the can. He has a serious substance abuse problem."

"Maybe you should call a doctor or do an intervention or something." you whispered back

"He’ll be fine. Probably."

— timeskip :3

Not even 2 hours later, Kazuha was already asleep. His lower back resting on your laps and his head on Scaramouche’s who used that as an opportunity to play with his friend’s hair, undoing his signature ponytail and trying out a variety of haircut on his longer hair.

A comfortable silent had installed itself, only the soft sound of the raindrops crashing against the window was audible.

Your phone was next to you but the idea of being on it during the moment felt impolite. You glanced at Scaramouche, for the nth time since Kazuha fell asleep, a small smile was plastered on his face.

Being abled to run his fingers through Kazuha's seemingly soft hair apparently made him euphoric.

The sight of the two boys made you chuckle, a chuckle that Scaramouche caught up on.

"What's so funny ?"

"You look so happy, it's unsettling."

"I never get to touch his hair, it's super soft."

The conversation ended here but, for some reason, you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"I didn't know they made them cropped."

"Huh?" Scaramouche finally looked up to you.

"The compression shirts. I didn't know that there was cropped ones."

"Ooh!" He looked down at his shirt as if he'd forgetten which one he put on "I don't know if they exist cropped. I cut this one myself to show off the piercings." he let out a chuckle, a low one, before staring back down at Kazuha's sleeping face.

You looked up at the clock.

10:29pm

The gates of the school closed at 11:30 which meant you still had an hour to learn more about the boy next to you.

Scaramouche had always intrigued you but now that you were closer to him you really wanted to get the answers for all the questions in your mind.

You looked at his face deeply, analyzing the features of his face.

Scaramouche really was a pretty boy. Big purple eyes complimented by the red eyeliner he wore everyday, porcelain skin, long fingers and a small frame. He looked so ethreal, almost like a doll.

Scaramouche picked up on the looks you gave him, he could feel you staring without even looking at you.

"If you have something to say just say it."

‘You look really pretty’ was what you wanted to say to him— because he did look really pretty.

But you uttered something completely different in the end,

"Why’d you change your name?"

He groaned before looking up at you for the second time in an hour.

"I didn’t like it. I already told you."

"Yeah but why?"

"Why do you even care anyway?"

"I don’t know, you’re an interesting guy, i just want to get to know you more." You shrugged as he raised his eyebrows, not really convinced by what you were saying.

Since he wasn’t replying you added "You don’t have to tell me! It’s just— I’m just curious is all."

He chuckles lightly and says in a serious tone "I know I don’t have to, I don’t owe you anything."

Silence installed itself again.

God why did you have to be so pushy about it ? He obviously didn’t want to tell you, it’s some personal issue that he only share with his best friend, you’re not remotely close enough to be given the same amount of trust than his best friend of a decade. He was warming up to you and you ruined everything : Why do you always ruin everything?

You fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find something to make it up to him. Maybe you should just apologise again or—

"It’s just that…" all of the thoughts in your head suddenly went quiet as he started to speak "…I don’t like the history behind that name. It being related to my mom and all, you know?"

You actually did not know.

You never heard about Scaramouche’s mom before so hearing him mention her was surprising.

"Ooh so it’s like a mommy kink typa thing!"

"I’m pretty sure you meant mommy issues but whatever." he sighs before mumbling "I don't even know why I'm telling you that."

"I won't call you that again if it makes you uncomfortable"

"No, it's fine, you don't have to stop."

"Scaramouche?"

"God, what now?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

The man in front of you paused before straightening his back and laughing softly

"What's with all the questions?"

"Dunno, just curious I guess. Don't you think it's fun? It's like 21 questions."

"21 questions? How old are you?"

"You're the one that wanted to play last time"

"Really? I don't remember that."

"I know you do stop lying."

"Why do you even care ?"

"Just say you're a loser virgin, no need to circle around it."

"it's the pot calling the kettle black." he mumbled

"What did you say ?"

"Nothing. No I'm not dating anyone."

"Not even Kazuha ?"

"He's just with me for money, i don't surround myself with that kind of people." He answered while braiding the man's hair ironically.

"Oh so you did know!"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing! I don't mean anything!"

"What about you?"

"Me? I didn't even know you wee rich before Kazuha said it"

"No dumbass! I was asking if you were dating anyone."

A huge grin crept on your face "Why? You wanna take me on a date? I'm flattered really but I'm not interested, sorry."

"I wouldn't go on a date with you even if my life depended on it."

"No I'm not dating anyone. I'm not the kind of person people want to kiss apparently." You laughed quietly

'God why did i say that' you wanted to slap yourself—the last comment was really unnecessary.

"You think so ?" Scaramouche asked but you didn't answer. He continued anyway " I'd kiss you."

"What?"

"Huh? I said I'd kiss you." He repeated, nonchalantly.

You were sure that he just said that to tease you and that he'd reply a sing-songy "Nothing" when you questionned him, but he looked as serious as ever.

"Ah- uh really ? You think ?"

"Sure, probably."

You looked at the clock again and Scaramouche's gaze followed yours.

10:58pm

"Is it time for you to go home ?"

You nodded yes subconsciously even though it was a lie, you still had 30 more minutes before the gate would close.

"I'll help you clean up before I leave" You said looking over at the table decorated by dozens of sheets, multiple empty cups of tea, various snacks, an opened small packages of edibles that magically appeared into Kazuha's hands during the evening, empty Dr. Pepper and beer cans and three dirty plates stacked on top of each other.

"It's fine, it's not a huge mess I can take care of that myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah it should take me 5 mins at best. Let's go, I'll walk you home."

"Oh you don't have to!"

"It's 11pm and your house is close anyway, it's fine."

"I wouldn't want to bother you."

"God you're so fucking annoying, let's just go!"

"Ok! Ok! Geez..."

— timeskip :3

The walk back home was bathed in silence. You wanted to speak up but you knew how much the man beside you hated small talk.

You don't know when exactly you became cautious of what he might think of you knowing that you would've done everything to see him in pain just a week prior.

Maybe it was because he was rapidly warming up to you for some reason, probably because of the proximity forced onto the both of you; you talked to him more these past 3 days than you ever did in the 2 years of being his classmate and self-proclaimed rival.

You didn't know why but you liked the feeling of being closer to Scaramouche, despite all the rumours he was easy to talk to and you could now imagine how a man like Kazuha would find himself drawn to him.

If Lumine could hear you she'd be dissapointed.

Even though he was kind of nice, you still hated parts of him especially those cocky smiles he'd give you that signified that he thought he was better than you in every way, shape or form, or the fact that he always seemed to surpass you in grades but still didn't put up any work while on the project a few hours earlier.

God he was so fucking annoying.

You couldn't refrain yourself from slapping him in the back of the head harshly.

"Ow!" he exclaimed loudly, more surprised than actual hurt "What the fuck was that for?!"

"You're so fucking annoying, Kuni." it was your second time using the nickname and you hoped that he wouldn’t react badly this time.

"I didn't do anything! I-! You-! I wasn't even talking!"

"Your aura threw me off."

"Yeah well I'm sorry my aura isn't good enough for you!"

"I appreciate the apology. You should go home now."

"What so you're just going hit me and throw me away? That's hurtful."

"I live right around the corner and it's..." you checked your phone "...11:13 so you should probably head back. Plus you're tired so you should just sleep."

"Tired? I'm not tired, what are you talking about?"

"Huh? Didn't you say you started talking nonsense when you were tired ?"

"When did I speak nonsense?" it was a real question this time, just by his face you could understand that he was currently replaying the entire day in his head and asking himself when he fucked up

"I mean you literally said you'd kiss me" You looked confused but not as confused as Scaramouche was

"Yeah and I meant that."

"Just- Just go home, Scaramouche."

"Ok, whatever. Goodnight, Y/N"

"Mhm" You managed to mumble before he walked away

God why were you like this??

Extras :

Why do I write Kazuha and Scara so homo w each other

Sorry for the late update (i have absolutely no excuse)

In the draft i worked on at first Y/N and Scara almost kissed before Kazuha called and interrupted them but i decided against it jst because

You ever just write something , think "it's cringe" to yourself but still post it or is it just a me thing

Scara defo fell to his knees and screamed into his hand after turning a corner

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