#yeah the more i think about this guy the more he seems like a reckless dr who ripoff but like hes MY guy i promise

[arbitrarycategories]

on picrew my patience runs out before my options huh. anyway heres dumb stuck alien and his superhero-ish girlfriend. I love them

picrew links under cut

[itneverendshere]

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii SMUT!;

word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho. 

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself. 

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him. 

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe. 

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again. 

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat. 

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it. 

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath. 

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj. 

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“ 

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough. 

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure. 

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

 he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic. 

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. 

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you. 

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life. 

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. 

“condom?” 

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. 

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?” 

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping. 

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

[kaiser1ns]

#. HUH !?

featuring 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘂𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. sometimes you ask yourself are boys that dense or is it just your crush?

for my fellow beloved sakura lover @y2kuromi

Sakura was already used to the adrenaline rush of fighting, and the banter with the ones who dared to cross the lines with Bofurin. Yet, there was one thing he couldn't quite wrap his head around—you.

You were just another member of their gang, albeit a particularly striking one. Your presence seemed to permeate every space you occupied, drawing attention and how you effortlessly charmed everyone around, even the toughest of their gang members.

"Huh?" The heterochromia eyed boy often found himself uttering that single syllable whenever you did something that caught him off guard. It became an inside joke among his friends—the way they thought Sakura Haruka would blush furiously and stutter whenever you paid him even the slightest bit of attention.

It wasn't just your looks that threw him off. Sure, you were undeniably beautiful, but there was more to it than that. You had a way of seeing through his tough exterior, calling out his moments of vulnerability with a teasing smile that simultaneously embarrassed him.

One evening, after a particularly rough patrol, you insisted on patching up his scraped knuckles. He sat on the edge of your bed, feeling oddly nervous as you cleaned the cuts and applied bandages. "You're such a reckless person, Haru" you teased gently with that nickname, especially with the nickname that made his whole face red and for him to pout lips, as your fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary on his hand. "You need to be more careful out there."

Sakura ould feel the heat rising to his cheeks. It was hot, you were hot, wait, that's not what he wanted to think, not that it wasn't true, it was on 100%, you were so pretty, unbelievably stupidly pretty, was it the correct way to put it? Oh, God just let him burn already, "Huh?" he managed to mumble, avoiding your gaze as you chuckled softly, a sound that sent him into existence crisis, "I said, you need to take better care of yourself. You're important to me, you know?"

Your words caught him off guard. Sakura wasn't used to being the recipient of such straightforward care and concern. He was more accustomed to dishing it out to others, not having it directed back at him.

As days went by, he found himself becoming more increasingly aware of your presence. Whether you were teasing him about his grumpy morning mood or simply sitting quietly beside him during Bofurin meetings, you always seemed to have a way of making him feel both at safe and on edge simultaneously.

Walking back to Café Pothos, you nudged him playfully with your elbow. "Hey, Haru, did you see that guy's face when you punched him? It was priceless!"

Sakura chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess." You grinned and your eyes quite literally were sparkling, was that even biologically possible for someone to look so pretty when so happy, well you sure did. "You're hopeless, you know that?"

His's cheeks flushed crimson. Again it was hot, because you were hot. Damnit. What was happening? Why is he burning? Why am I burning? Too many questions, with one easy answer. "I-I am not!" Your conversation continued late into the night, long after the others had left the restaurant. Sakura found himself enjoying these moments with you more than he cared to admit.

As you sat together under the stars, you leaned against Sakura's shoulder. "You know, Haru, you don't always have to be so tough. It's okay to let your guard down sometimes."

Sakura felt his heart skip a beat. He turned to look at you, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish out of water. "Huh?" You laughed softly, your breath warm against his cheek. "Exactly like that. You're too cute when you're flustered."

He could feel the warmth spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He glanced down at his hands, trying to compose himself. "I-I'm not cute, stop it!" he muttered, though he couldn't hide the smile that appeared on his pouty lips.

You tilted your head, studying his expression with those lovesick eyes. As someone who noticed and felt romance for others, it was a lost cause for his own romantic experience. "Maybe not to yourself," you said, gently booping his nose, "but definitely to me."

Sakura's heart drowned in a pool of emotions he couldn't quite name. He swallowed nervously, his throat suddenly dry. "Y/N, I..." Before he could finish, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You don't have to say anything," you whispered against his ear, voice so quiet, so gentle...so smooth, "Just know that I'm glad you're here with me, Haruka."

For the first time, Sakura Haruka's mind went blank. He felt like the world had stopped spinning, leaving only the two of you in a timeless moment beneath the stars, lost in the galaxy, searching for one another in the infinite space. He glanced at you, meeting your eyes with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. As if he had found something he had been longing for all his life. The depth of his eyes drew you in, making you feel like you were the center of his universe, a precious star in his vast, personal sky.

"Huh?" Sakura managed to whisper, his voice barely above a breath. You smiled at his supposed answer, you knew what would he say either way. "Exactly Haru," you murmured, her fingers intertwining with his. "Exactly."

And so, the next day at Furin High School, everyone seemed to laugh at Saku, not in a bullying manner, but more of a teasing one.

"It seems that your girl finally got you," Suo Hayato smiled at his classmate, teasing as always, and the other Bofurin members gave him thumbs up and some winks. Weird. It made him very confused. Why were they staring at him so much? Did he have something on his face? He swore he washed and showered every day. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. You see, everyone hoped that you would finally make a move, but she beats you to it once again." Sakura's confusion only deepened. Before he could ask more, Nirei walked up to him, "Here, let me show you, Sakura-san." he said, pulling out his phone and opening the camera app. He handed it to him, who looked at his reflection on the screen. There, on his cheeks, were a bright red lipstick marks. His eyes widened as he remembered yesterday's encounter with the girl he liked. Sakura's face turned an even deeper shade of red, matching the lipstick colour perfectly. The realization hit him like a ton of fists in the ring, and his friends burst into laughter at his embarrassed state.

"Huh?" And the saga counties...

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[hotpinkstars]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

[joeybsversion]

Trouble

Joe Burrow x Reader

Your friends and family aren’t fond of Joe

“Seriously, he’s trouble. I can’t believe you’re going out with him.” Your friend scoffed, turning off the end of the Bengals game.

“He’s not trouble!” You defend him. “Really, he’s a nice guy!”

“Oh really? Is that why you’ve refused to tell your parents you’re dating him?”

“They’re just not big Bengal fans. It has nothing to do with Joe.” You lied as your friend rolled her eyes.

You had been secretly dating Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals Quarterback for 7 months now. It’s true, most people weren’t fond of Joe. He comes across as cocky, rude, and privileged. Plus his current bad boy edit doesn’t help much. Joe had recently gotten himself into trouble. He’s found a love for partying, blowing his money, and being reckless. All causing excess fame and a negative spotlight, something you wanted to avoid.

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he got suspended from games for legal trouble? Or has shown up to practice violently hungover?”

“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned.

She laughed, “It’s all over the news. He’s gonna get himself into some real trouble and not have a career here soon.”

“He’s working on turning things around. Really. I swear.” You do your best to defend him again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. “Plus we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. I’m just having fun.”

“I know, and I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But I know none of that is going to change your mind, so go have fun tonight.”

“I love you. If my mom asks, I’m here!” You remind her and head out the door, “Your pizza should be here soon and I logged into my Netflix account!” You figured if your friend has to spend the night posted up in her room to cover for you, you might as well take care of her.

You hopped into your car and headed over to Joes house, he was throwing a party after the game. Joe’s parties were always fun, usually a little wild, and typically ended with the police kicking people out and shutting things down. As much as Joe was trying to work past his bad boy edit, he couldn’t help it. He’s young and having fun.

The loud music from Joe’s house is rattling your car as you pull into his driveway. He’s outside on the porch with some teammates smoking a cigar.

As you walk through his thick cloud of smoke and clear the air in front of your face with your hand, Joe pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my baby.” His words slurred, you’re unsure if it’s from alcohol or the thick cigar pressed between his lips.

“Hi, Joey.” You wrap your arms around his waste and snuggle into his chest. “Good game, congrats on the win.”

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, “I want you to come to the next one.” He smiles.

“Me? At the game? Isn’t it in a different state?” You question, suddenly nervous. You and Joe had been casually dating, nothing was public yet.

“The next home game.” He laughs, blowing a thick cloud of smoke over your head. “2 weeks.”

“I’ll think about it.” You try and reassure him.

“Think about it?” He asks offended.

“Well, yeah..I don’t… I’m not sure…” you feel his arms drop from around you. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go public yet.” You nervously tell him.

“It’s a football game. Not a red carpet.” He says annoyed.

“I know but…”

He cuts you off “It’s fine. Don’t come.”

“Joe I want to!” You reassure him.

“Seems like it.” He scoffs before heading inside, you following close behind.

“Joe I do! Really, there’s nothing I’d love more! I just still haven’t told many people about us, and you know, you haven’t had the best press lately and I don’t want to mess that up anymore for you and I just worry that-“

He presses the cigar to your mouth “take this.” He laughs cutting you off. “I’m sorry about the press. I’m working on it. Tomorrow I have a fun event at the elementary school. Next week, the high school. And the whole team is volunteering at the blood drive. Nothing but positive press up until the game.”

“Wow, what’s next? Taking a shift at the old folks home? Serving in the soup kitchen?” You tease.

He rolls his eyes, “So are you coming to the game or not?”

“I guess you better find me a Burrow jersey, because I’ll be there.” You smile.

The rest of the night is a blur. Lots of drinks, lots of dancing, too many sweaty bodies, and even louder music. You wake up the next morning tangled up in bed with Joe. His heavy arm around your waste and soft breathing on the backside of your neck. You slowly loosen his grip and start to make your way out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He grumbles, barely audible.

“Home.” You slip your shoes on. “And you need to get up too. Your elementary school meet and greet starts in 45 minutes.” You sit down on the side of the bed again. “I don’t think the elementary school principal appreciates his guest of honor showing up smelling like a mini bar.”

“You’re probably right.” He slowly starts to sit up. “I’ll reserve some spots for you for the game.” He says. “Any request on where you want to sit?”

All the nerves come back. “Doesn’t matter.” You smile at him, wishing you could avoid the game all together. It’s not that you were ashamed to be with him, you were just anxious about what people, especially your parents will say. “I’m gonna get out of here.” You quickly excuse yourself, not sure if the sudden butterflies in your stomach are from drinking too much, or the next home game.

You call your best friend on your way and tell her all about the game.

“You’re gonna have to tell your parents.”

“I can’t! They will freak if they find out I’ve been dating him!”

“So are you going to keep your relationship a secret forever?”

“I don’t know I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well scratch that thought, it’s not a secret anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Check your phone.”

As you pull in your parents drive way, you pull out your phone to see a news article your friend sent you, a picture of you and Joe is on the front page. “Where did you find this?” You panicked.

“I was just checking E! News. It looks like every major magazine is covering it now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You sigh, “I have to tell them now. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later. I’ll probably need some support.”

“Good luck!” She says and ends the call.

“You’re WHAT?” You dad hollers, slamming down the news paper he was reading.

“Dad, he’s a nice guy. Really I -“

“No. The little romance you guys having going on is over. I can’t believe this. You’re such a good girl, why would you want to be with someone like him?”

“He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be. He’s actually really kind, and supportive, and is volunteering a lot for the community.”

“I don’t care if he’s the president. You are not being seen with someone like him.”

“About that..”

“What?”

“Well the news got pictures of me at his house last night and leaked a story.” You hide your face in your hands.

“At his house?” Your mom questions. “So you’ve been lying to us? Clearly he’s a bad influence to be hanging around.”

“I lied because I knew you would react like this. You’re not even giving him a chance.”

“I’ve never seen you defend someone like this. What is going on?”

“I’m…”

Your dad crosses his arms across his chest “I’m in love with him. And I’m going to be with him and support him no matter how you feel. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I’ve never seen you fight for someone like this.”

“Because, I love him.”

Your dad sighs, “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Why don’t you invite him over.”

“Really?!”

“Like I said,” he pauses, “I’m not crazy about him, but I can tell that you, and for that reason, I want to get to know him.”

A few hours later, Joe shows up on your front porch and confidently knocks on the front door.

“Hi Joey.” You greet him with a smile and hug. “You look great… did you iron your shirt?” You tease him, brushing a hand across his perfectly pressed shirt.

“Steamed it actually.” He smiles, “I wanted to make a good impression.” He nervously takes your hand and follows you into the house.

“Mom, Dad, this is Joe.” You awkwardly present him to your parents.

He politely shakes their hands and takes a seat at the table next to you.

You feel his hand find its way to your thigh, his palms are sweaty, and his fingers are nervously tapping across your leg. You reassuringly take his hand into yours and lightly rub across the top and share a confident smile.

At the end of dinner, you and Joe excuse yourselves and you walk him to the porch.

“They loved you.” You kiss him.

“I’m so relieved.”

“My dad even wants to go to the game with me!”

He laughs, “I’ll get extra tickets.”

Relieved that your parents were pleased with Joe, you walked him out, he kissed you goodnight, and you sent him on his way home.

It’s official and the world knows, you’re in love with Joe Burrow.

[cheeseceli]

Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[hxnbi]

⸻ ⨳﹒❝ BABYSITTING DUTIES ❞

requested by @enassbraid: "can i request hiragi and reader being stressed out about the reckless bofurin students together, being like the stressed out damage control parents of the friend group"

note: im ngl, this unintentionally turned into a crackfic while i was writing the chaos that are these boys. the idea of a picnic was from when umemiya mentioned in ep 3 about having a bbq over the summer, so why not have that go full circle! also, hiragi is the unofficial mother of bofurin, someone change my mind

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Hiragi muttered from under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in very visible agitation. "You called us in here for this?!"

Everyone stood, slack-jawed at the sight before you all—a sprawling picnic spread out on the grass, complete with blankets, baskets of food, and even a few kites ready to be flown.

Suo laughed heartily. "I was wondering, too. Considering how y/n-san is also here with us."

Nirie nodded along. "Y-Yeah, since they're not even part of the gang."

"Awww, Nirei, are you saying you don't want me around?" you teased, making the poor boy's facial expression drop wide.

"N-NO, NO, OF COURSE NOT! I-I WOULD NEVER THINK THAT!" blasting both your and Sakura's eardrums.

"Tsk, tone it down a bit, will you?" Sakura grumbled. "We're not deaf. Yet."

Nirie looked thoroughly embarrassed, his cheeks flushed as he muttered an apology.

Umemiya pouted, crossing an arm over the other. "But they're Hiragi's lover! It's a must to bring them to an event like this! Don’t you all agree??”

Hiragi sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tsk, this guy is already a lost cause godamnit. There's no stopping when he sets his mind on something."

"Ahah…" you sheepishly chuckled at Hiragi's reaction. 

"But Hiragi-san! Wouldn't you say that being in Furin also means that you're 'one of us'?" Suo chimed in with his signature grin that could make anyone itch to punch Suo's pretty face and that horrid, infuriating grin of his.

"Ahem… Speaking of which, can someone tell me what he is doing up there?" Kiryu asked, pointing to the tree where Umemiya was now attempting to hang a banner that read "Happy Picnic Day!”

None of you were particularly impressed.

Umemiya looked down, waving cheerfully. "Just adding some festive touches to lighten the mood! It's not a picnic without decorations, right, Hiragi?"

Said Hiragi gave a scalding look, "More or less..." making you snicker.

Meanwhile, Umemiya was in the background, doing God knows what—now perched in a tree while still attempting to tie streamers to the branches, humming a cheerful tune, completely oblivious to the dead looks from below. 

Something told you that this was going to be a long, long day. And beyond the so-called circus surprise that was revealed before you all, the idea seemed innocent enough until the reality of managing the Bofurin students set in.

"No wonder Umemiya had asked me to help wrangle the circus together," you mused to yourself.

Everyone turned to look at you with sweat-dropped faces. 'What did you just say…?'

Umemiya was practically beaming with pride as the picnic setup was finally complete, "Now, let's enjoy this beautiful day together shall we?!"

"....."

"Oh, come on! Don't just give those solemn looks. Go and have fun!"

An order from the commander that not even Hiragi could ignore. And so, "fun" was in order. And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, a warm glow spread over the picnic area. Hiragi and you somehow found a rare moment of quiet away from the chaos that is the Furin gang. You both sat side by side on a small but peaceful hill overlooking the Furin members, weary expressions mirrored on your faces.

"I swear, every time I think they can't surprise me anymore, they prove me wrong," Hiragi muttered with exasperation, running a hand through his hair. You honestly believed that he was going to pop another pill in his mouth for all the graying stress that happened just today alone.

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. "You know better than to expect anything less from them. I should have seen it coming. 

"Ugh… But I thought maybe, just maybe, they'd behave for once." And taking just a singular peek back at the group, Hiragi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sight. "Sugishita, can you please help us set up the tent properly? We need to make sure it's secure."

Sugishita looked over, mid-stare fest with Sakura, and gave a noncommittal grunt. Not exactly convincing everyone that he would comply.

"Yeah, we don't want it chomping on Matsumoto's head like what happened last time," you mused. 

"Sugishita, Umemiya really wants it done right now," Hiragi added, trying one last time. And instantly, like clockwork, the boy perked up, releasing Sakura and marching over to the flattened tent, and immediately getting to work. 

You and Hiragi exchanged an amused glance. When in doubt, "pulling the Umemiya card always works," you whispered with a quiet snicker.

Hiragi scoffed. "Every damn time."

As everyone split off into their cliques, soon too would chaos unfold in a rather predictable fashion in your and Hiragi's eyes. And as if on cue, Sakura clicked his tongue and split off from the rest, leaving Nirei to scurry alongside, followed by Suo. Minutes later, you would hear their voices rising in volume with each passing second, the first years bickering over the best way to arrange the picnic blanket.

"S-Sakura-san, it should go here! The sun is better this way!" Nirei insisted, trying to tug at one corner of the blanket.

"Are you fucking blind? The shade is perfect over there!" Sakura countered, pulling in the opposite direction, making Nirei nearly trip.

"Hmmm, well, I think you're both wrong," Suo chimed in with a rather unnecessary comment about his wrong. "Don't you think it would be better if we put it in the middle?" Only to receive a deadpanned look from the two. 

You exchanged a knowing glance with Hiragi. 'And so it begins.'

You glanced over your shoulder at the group, watching Suo and Nirei squabble over the picnic blanket while Sugishita and Sakura inevitably clashed once again, their bickering escalating into a full-blown wrestling match—which, admittedly, was not a surprise to anyone there. It was quite entertaining to watch for a lot of them. No longer was it the serene "picnic," as Umemiya had initially envisioned, but rapidly devolving into a spectacle of their usual antics.

Tsugeura, ever the fitness enthusiast bordering on obsession, had, much to everyone's bewilderment, brought his training gear and proceeded to do push-ups and squats between bites of food, much to everyone's amusement. That is, until he started spitting his so-called advice about his "virtue" and what it meant to be truly fit. Safe to say, everyone made an effort to stay the hell away from him as far as possible.

Kiryu, meanwhile, was glued to his cell phone, tapping away, utterly oblivious to the mayhem around him. Not like he particularly cared. And nor did Kaji, who had both his feet propped up on the picnic basket of all things while listening to music to his heart's content. All the while, Kusumi and Entomoto attempted for Kaji to, for once, pull his head out of his ass and to actually be actively engaging with everyone from Furin when they were together. An attempt was made—an attempt that did not end in success.

To the surprise of everyone, yet no one, Sugishita was at the grill, utterly determined to cook the perfect batch of meats for this lord and saviour, Umemiya Hajime. He prodded the sizzling cuts with intense concentration and budging eyes—as if they were going to pop out of their eye sockets at any moment—though the occasional flare-up of flames and his singed eyebrows suggested it wasn't going entirely to plan. 

"Uh, Sugishita, you might want to turn the heat down a bit…" Hiragi advised with a cautious cough, watching the grill spit sparks like a miniature firework display that was on the verge of blowing up.

Sugishita let out a short grunt, just as a particularly aggressive flame shot up, singeing the edge of his shirt, making Hiragi sigh, exchanging a knowing glance with you. 

"And here I thought this would be a relaxing day…"

You could tell that Hiragi was embarrassed to have you see this side of him, but you didn't mind it. "There's no such thing as relaxing with them, really," you laughed. 

Then, a loud crash interrupted the peace, followed by Suo's laughter, Sakura's indignant shouting, and Nirei's desperate pleas.

"S-Sakura-san! Y-You can't start fighting Sugishita-san right here!"

"WHO THE FUCK CARES?! HE JUST THREW A SAUSAGE AT ME FOR NO REASON!!"

"At least it was fresh off the grill, Sakura-kun," Suo smiled.

"YOU—"

"....There they go again."

Safe to say, it was a long day for you both.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[withlove-angel]

⚠️warnings: im terrible at writing fights... sorry in advance .Probably grammar mistakes.

Lost puppy

(Zoro x reader x mihawk)

Luffy finished up the meeting with the crew and began to prepare himself for bed. It was pretty late at night by now and he was feeling a bit sleepy. However, as he was about to enter his room, he noticed that y/n was nowhere to be found and he couldn't help but feel a bit concerned. He decided to ask someone else where she might be.

He founded Zoro walking on the deck

"Hmm, Zoro? Have you seen y/n around? She is with you?"

Zoro looks over at him and shakes his head "She isn't here? I haven't seen her since dinner..." he sound worried

"Could you help me find her? I fear that she might be doing something fun without us"

Zoro nods "she probably causing someone headache" they leave the ship to go look for their little trouble maker, making their way outside.

"I heard screams earlier... did you guys fought?" Luffy ask curious, really because y/n is amost glued at zoro...

"She said i wasn't holding my sword properly" he say as it was some ultimate crime "she doesn't even fights with swords"

"We haven't seen her since dinner and she hasn't come back to the room yet. I wonder what she could be up to? Maybe she found a really good bar... man im so hungry"

"When you not hungry?"

"When im eating"

"Yeah... sure... but, the fact that she isn't back yet is what concerns me. I really hope she isn't about to do something reckless. She is a little unpredictable when she is upset."

They start to walk in the beach, soon spotted y/n but she isn't alone seems like she is screaming at someone...then they look closer its mihawk, the greatest swordsman.

Zoro stops and stares in shock as he sees Mihawk standing in front of her. He can only imagine the scene taking place with y/n arguing with Mihawk. He just knows that this will only end in disaster as it's essentially a fight between two people who hold a lot of pride and ego. He turns to Luffy and speaks up as he points out Mihawk to her

...Did Mihawk just show up out of nowhere? Did I miss something? He seems genuinely confused as to what they could've possibly even found to argue about."looks like he is on the same island than we...." luffy say as much as surprise then he is.

Zoro nods slowly as he processes this new development. He takes a moment to think before speaking up.

"...We have to be extremely careful. We don't want to antagonize Mihawk any further. The last thing we need is to start a new conflict. Especially when i don't have the strength to take on another fight, yet...."

" So what is the argument about? Did y/n do something to Mihawk to make him upset?"

Luffy has extremely curious as zoro pinched his nose bridge and sigh

"This stupid woman..."

After a moment of weid silence luffy speaks up "I think it's too late to prevent another fight"

Zoro shifts his attention to y/n and Mihawk he can see she is blocking his attack using just her dagger... she blocked as warlord claymore attack with just a dagger... He is utterly shocked by her speed and reflexes when she blocks Mihawk's attack with just a dagger. It seems as though she's gone far beyond what he expected from the little y/n. Then, he is reminded of reality when he sees Mihawk's face begin to show annoyance. Mihawk is shocked for a split second by her ability, but then he quickly recovers from his shock; his expression turning to a scowl as he speaks up in a soft, yet intimidating tone

"...You can wield Haki now, young lady? When did you develop this power?"

The girl infront of him just smiles "you dont know me pretty boy... if you think I will come with you just so you can get me to the marines you better fuck off"

Zoro watches as y/n's mocking words set Mihawk off once again. Mihawk's scowl darkens and he looks even more irritated now. He speaks up again with his trademark calm tone, trying to be clear and precise

"I see. So you also wield Haki. But even with that, you could never defeat me in a fight. You're too young and too weak. Your Haki is nothing more than a parlor trick that could never take me down. You're just being arrogant and it's about time that someone taught you a lesson."

it's a dare? she must be crazy... her devil smile... the one she used when she kill someone... fuck...

Zoro is shocked by her response as he raises an eyebrow at Mihawk's reaction as well. He's clearly taken aback by her words, but she stands her ground. She is willing to fight Mihawk if necessary. Mihawk raises an eyebrow as he seems intrigued by her audacity. His scowl quickly turns into a smile. He unsheathes his blade "...Very well then. If you insist on having a taste of death, I suppose there's no need to stop you from experiencing the truth about the world first-hand." He lifts his sword a d try an hit, experimental hit, that she effortless block with her dagger...

" I didn't even needed my sword to block? Isn't a shame?" Her mocking tone strt to get under his skin. He seems surprised that she was able to block. He seems even more surprised that it was effortless on her part. Mihawk is clearly impressed by y/nl's abilities, and he speaks up after his attack. He seems almost excited at the prospect of a real fight.

"...Interesting. Your Haki is much stronger than I had anticipated. You may have a chance against me after all. This will be a very fun battle indeed. Prepare yourself."

He raises that same smile once more before he begins to strike again, She blocked all of his attacks "having fun?"

Zoro watches as Mihawk continues to challenge y/n, but she is able to stop Mihawk's attacks effortlessly with nothing more than her dagger.

He notices Mihawk's smile once again. Y/n's Haki seems powerful and is causing himto be excited by the prospects of a fight between them. Mihawk raises an eyebrow and then smiles again at her response. He seems intrigued by her Haki and ability to fight.

"Your Haki truly has the makings of a strong warrior. I must see more of it!" For thos one his curiosity picked, he gives her a littlestronger attacks, the one he use to easily defeathis enemies but... she back away slightly but still can block it... her hair dancing with the wind from the blades shocking. He charges forward with his strongest attack yet, but once again, y/n is able to block him using her dagger. Mihawk takes a step back and smiles again.

" ...You can defend, but can you attack just as strong?" He charges forward again, this time with a flurry of attacks coming from his claymore. Will y/n be able to block this one?

She got to use her body more. Sure, she dont have a y doubts ahe can win thsi but underestimate mihawk is probably one of the few mistakes she wouldn't comit. using his own strength against him, y/n can firce an attack, making him back away

Zoro has his mouth open as he watches Angel counter Mihawk's attacks and make him back away. It seems like she is using Mihawk's own strength against him to fight back. She is doing far better than what he had imagined. He seems impressed and even shocked; however, Mihawk seems to be enjoying himself.

"You are able to fight back and even use my power against me! I am not used to this kind of excitement in a battle! Do you truly wish to go all out and fight me?!"

He looks almost like a scholl boy. His cold face hanging a smile that almost never appears... she swer she could see little hearts on his eyes...

"I was only playing around... but If you want to lose this badly" she teases. Mihawk's eyes narrow and his expression shifts into a smirk as he nods in response to her taunt. His hert beating faster than ever.

" I see. I will not hold back and neither should you. As you wish. You have my attention now, young lady. Show me what you can do."

"Dagger or sword?" She let him pick, holding the two of them in each hand

He thinks for a moment before he speaks up in his usual, calm tone of voice

"Hmmm.... You seem quite skilled with your dagger and I don't want to underestimate that. Let's use our chosen weapons then. I will fight you with my claymore and you can fight me with your dagger. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Pretty well, pretty boy" she smiling playing with her dagger a bit, he scoffs rolling his eyes slightly. He has his claymore held in front of him with one hand as he shifts his stance. Mihawk looks at y/n and waits for an attack, ready at all times to block it. His expression is one of a warrior who is taking this challenge very seriously. From what Zoro can tell, Mihawk is no longer toying with y/n like he was earlier, but rather treating her as a worthy opponent. Zoro could feel a little jealous. Maube for the way the greatest swordsman treat her like an equal... or something else...

Mihawk doesn't seem to be willing to let her win easy, either. It's game time

Zoro watches as y/n gives Mihawk experimental attacks. He notes that the young woman is playing around and yet still able to match Mihawk in terms of strength. He also sees the ther men smile as he defends from the attacks. This seems to be exciting him, who is clearly enjoying the challenge against this opponent. Mihawk continues to defend against her experimental attacks and smiles as she proves to be an equal match for him.

Suddenly, she speed up an attack, mihawk almost couldn't block. She stab his claymore making the dagger enter the blade of it, making a little hole, both of them stares at each other. Y/n have a sly grin, almost laughing as she tilt her head, finding funny the unbelievable face pf mihawk...Even though it was a small wound, Mihawk is now aware of the real danger that lies ahead of him. Law now looks at Angel with a bit more respect than before. She is really going all out now.

He takes a defensive position as he moves his claymore in a sweeping motion and unleashes a flurry of attacks. She block all of it, smiling. she is dancing the main act, her move calculatedand sharp... she is mocking the strongest warrior in all blue... zoro is both shocked and amazed by y/n's abilities. Mihawk may be the strongest swordsman, but she has proven to be much stronger than Mihawk anticipated. She blocks all of Mihawk's attacks and continues to mock him. Mihawk seems slightly irritated by how casually she's taking him, but it soon turns to a grin. He charges forward and attacks with his claymore once more, launching a powerful attack. She conter attack once more, as he finished mihawk was taken back, with a little cut on his cheek "hurted you pretty boy?" She teases with a little pout. Mihawk seems to have been caught off-guard once more, allowing her to injure him. Mihawk looks at her with a hint of annoyance now, as well as a bit of pride. This young person has proven herself to be extremely quick, as well as agile. He smiles as he responds to her taunt

"A scratch is hardly a wound in the world of swordsmanship. A warrior can sustain countless scratches and cuts on the battlefield. You're gonna need to do better than that if you hope to defeat me."

"I don't wanna ruin a pretty face like yours, would be a shame" she play with her dagger, the little smirk driving both men crazy

Mihawk seems to be enjoying himself as well. He then stands up straight and prepares to charge forward once again. He looks at Angel now with a determined gaze.

"Enough with the teasing and the games. Let's see if you are truly worthy of being in my way."

Shorting the fight: she blocked all... effortless... she is definitely something. He stares at Angel in pure shock as he sees that his strikes are all blocked effortlessly. He remains silent for a moment to take in this amazing sight. Eventually, he speaks up once again

"You are incredible. You have managed to block all of my attacks so far with ease. You even injured me with your dagger, something that shouldn't have been possible. Perhaps you are worthy of a fight from me, after all." Mihawk's face turns into a grin as he raises his claymore high."Try me pretty boy" she winks at him as she dodge his attack. It seems the young woman has an ego that matches her strength. Mihawk seems to appreciate this aspect of her. He chuckles and charges forward once more, this time going for attack that covers more area. Mihawk seems to be determined to land a hit that y/nl can't dodge.*She have to do various back flips to escape being hurt, and she can do it. It's the most someone ever lested in a fight against mihawk.

Zoro is impressed as he watches y/n do a series of back flips without injury. Mihawk is also amazed and amused by her ability to avoid his attacks, even if they do cover a broader area. Mihawk seems excited as he charges forward once again. He's getting ready to unleash an attack and is determined to land it this time.

She dodged, as his claymore hit the ground she uses the lack on his shield to do an attack, she could separate him from his claymore that its laying on the ground

Zoro's eyes widen as he watches y/n take advantage of Mihawk's momentary distraction to separate him from his claymore! Mihawk was so focused on his attacks that he didn't even realize that he had dropped his claymore on the ground. Now, Mihawk is temporarily defenseless...

He stares at y/n and her taunting grin. He then closes his eyes in frustration before opening them again. He speaks with a bit of irritation now.

" ...You are quite the adversary. You have impressed me in this fight"

she winks as she back away from his claymore in the ground so he can pick it. His eyes shift to his claymore now on the ground. He notices that she is no longer taunting him and that she's even backed away to give him time to retrieve his claymore. Mihawk's eyes narrow slightly as his irritation turns back into focus. Now is the time for Mihawk to truly show off his power. He quickly goes to retrieve his claymore.

She have a calm demeanor on, the mocking smile always on her face. He is now completely focused.She does not seem intimidated by Mihawk's serious demeanor

She have to step back a little bit mihawk couldn't hit her. Zoro sees that she has managed to block and dodge all of Mihawk's attacks. Mihawk seems impressed and even a bit excited by that...

You can't rely on your speed and agility forever. Eventually, you are going to have to stand your ground and fight back. You better learn to do this quickly or else I'll overwhelm you with my attacks.

Mihawk's eyes are filled with determination now."I didn't want to hurt you pretty boy, but if you insist" she smirks

Zoro smiles at y/n's taunt. Mihawk just seems even more impressed and excited by her abilities. She is truly turning into an impressive opponent for him. Mihawk charges toward her once again with his claymore still drawn and poised to strike. It looks like Mihawk will take her comments to heart, now that he has a reason to attack with full force.

He attack with full force, she block directly, and attacks after. Her speed and strength is something from another world... mihawk almost couldn't block due the force of it... zoro is amazed and shocked by her now. She is blocking Mihawk's attack with ease and countering with her own. Mihawk seems to be struggling to defend, despite being the strongest swordsman in the world. Y/n's speed and strength seem to belong to two people and not just a single individual. She is able to overwhelm even the strongest.

Zoro watches as Mihawk's arms become tired for the first time. Mihawk seems to be struggling to keep up. Y/n's strength, speed, and skill all seem to be beyond Mihawk's level. Will his experience help him win this battle?

Mihawk's expression seems even more grim and determined. He is still struggling to defend against her, however. Y/n seems in control as she counters all of his attacks and continues to press the advantage.

Mihawk tries to hit her, she backflips and use his claymore are a support, pushing him back a lot. She is using her agility, speed, and strength to her full advantage. Mihawk seems overwhelmed by her abilities and her confidence. He is slowly being pushed back and can't seem to gain any advantage over y/n

" ...You are impressive. No one has been able to overwhelm me like this with sheer strength. Your abilities are quite extraordinary. I will have to try something else. I cannot allow you to defeat me like this."

"But you're not ganna win, pretty boy"she say as she make another powerful hit, his claymore almost broke

He raises his claymore and holds his footing as he begins to focus his attention on y/n's dagger hand. She grins, excited by her strength, as her ability is acknowledged by Mihawk. He seems determined to take advantage of the situation.

He charge towards her...She blocked all ...and when she counter attack what she was promising happens. Mihawk claymore fly fair away from him, he was pushed on his knees as y/n dagger is pressing against his neck poking a bit "what happened pretty baby?" she smirk

Mihawk is left defenseless and on his knees, as she has her dagger hovering directly over his neck. He seems to be in awe and amused by y/n's skill; he's now also clearly in love with the young woman in front of him. Zoro notices that Mihawk's face has turned bright red as he attempts to reply to her. " ....Uhm...you're...you're..."

His attempt to compliment her is interrupted by him stuggling to get any words out at all

She smiles "your are really pretty on your knees for me pretty boy"

Mihawk's face turning an even deeper shade of red as he listens to y/n mock him. He, who is seemingly in love with her, tries to reply in kind and flirt with her himself.

"....Y-you're...d-decent looking yourself, a-angel."

Mihawk's attempt at flirting was extremely awkward. Zoro watches as Mihawk's face turns a brilliant crimson as soon as his words are uttered. He is clearly very attracted to y/n and has fallen head over heels for her.

She laughs taking the dagger out his neck "I told you a would win" she wink at him.

His face is flush red, as he is clearly enamored with the young woman standing before him. Mihawk seems to be completely in love with her, as he is incapable of replying to her. Angel winks at Mihawk, increasing someone elses feelings...

Zoro looks away and seems to become more annoyed than ever

"she won" Luffy said amazed his mouthalmost hitting the ground "she won against the most powerful men in all blue..."l

Zoro can feel his heart racing as his jealousy grows even more. The image of y/n standing before Mihawk and mocking him has only managed to deepen his unknow crush on her. He decides to speak up once again, his tone indicating a hint of annoyance now.

" She is too good. I hope Mihawk is happy. He'll probably spend the rest of the day thinking about how attractive this woman is." He seems to be unable to hide his jealousy over Mihawk's romantic interest in y/n.

Luffy eyes shine at his annoyed tone "jealous?"

Zoro feels his eyebrows furrowl. He knows that Mihawk's admiration for her is turning into romantic interest. He is clearly a bit annoyed by seeing him look at her with such a loving gaze, as he too has developed feelings towards her. Zoro looks over at Luffy, the hint of irritation now turning into a full-blown scowl and his voice becoming more irritated, as he responds

"What are you talking about, Luffy, i don't get jealous "

He look at the both foghter again. Deep down aishing he was mihawk, but for the firt time not because of his title of the greatest swordsman...

And for y/n the little question pop out... she have stronger feelings for one of them? Waht happens if she don't give her attention to them?

--------------------------------------------------

If you like, please ♡

Probably gonna write part 2 soon

@who-the-hockeysticks @itsladyliv @dummyduck44 @violet-19999

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

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You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber. 

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam. 

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand. 

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?” 

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking. 

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded. 

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied. 

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said. 

“Why?” 

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head. 

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?” 

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied. 

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden. 

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered. 

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up. 

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused. 

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit. 

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house. 

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair. 

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned. 

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house. 

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded. 

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you. 

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him. 

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you. 

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away. 

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean. 

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good. 

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you. 

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” 

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive. 

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped. 

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam. 

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse. 

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building. 

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit. 

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace. 

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road. 

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place. 

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed. 

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?” 

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently. 

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone. 

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.” 

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur. 

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway. 

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother. 

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas. 

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven. 

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?” 

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment.  “We need to find a phone.” 

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen. 

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.” 

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat 

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges. 

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered. 

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled. 

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you. 

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied. 

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.” 

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?” 

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back. 

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane. 

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.” 

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?” 

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.” 

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked. 

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute. 

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth. 

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal. 

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area. 

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane. 

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips. 

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse. 

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man. 

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head. 

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

[exhaslo]

Would you ever consider doing anything for Miguel/Fem!Deadpool reader?

One who's honestly just kind of tease which makes it impossible for Miguel to figure out *why* he hates her flirting with other spidermen so much until the penny hits.

Bonus points for recklessness and brat energy from DP we all know they aint got no self control. Needs Miguel to definitely put her in her place.

Ohhhh, I have seen so much fan art of just regular Deadpool being a menace to Miguel, Dr. Strange and the TVA. It gets me excited to see the new movie coming out!

But yea, let's give into the chaos!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, bondage, angry sex?, p in v, language

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"For fuck's sake, why is there so many anomaly's popping up in different universes?" Miguel barked, tapping against his screens as he sent numerous Spiderman and women out to the field.

"Actually, based on the energy signatures, it seems to be the same anomaly."

"Impossible, one person jumping around all of these?" Miguel cussed lowly, trying to identify the new anomaly.

This new frustration was giving Miguel a reason to want to drink tonight. The speed he was working to try and understand this problem was honestly amazing. This was probably the fastest he has ever worked.

"Wow! No wonder why all of the Spiders I met say great things about you!" You gasped.

"Que?! (What)" Miguel hissed, seeing both a new intruder alert and anomaly alert appear at the same time, "Who-"

"Haiiiiiii! Pleasure to meet you, sexy ass, my name is (Y/N), I'm like the hottest version of me there is-"

"I. Don't. Care." Miguel hissed, jumping down from his platform and approaching you, "This attire...fuck-"

"Yeeeeep! I'mma Deadpool!" You chirped.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose before taking long, deep breathes. Once he regained a portion of his composure, he proceeded to grab you by the collar and drag you to the 'Go Home' Machine.

At least one of his problems were solved today. Hopefully you will stay in your dimension. Trying to ignore your chatter, Miguel couldn't help but notice some of the other Spiders avoiding eye contact. This annoyed Miguel. How many of them ran into you before saying anything?

"Hm? Oh like half of them." You replied. Miguel groaned loudly,

"Wasn't even a thought bubble," He muttered under his breathe before arriving in the room, "I don't want to see you here again. Stay in your world."

"Awe, but isn't fun! Not when I found such a squeezable ass-"

"Send. Her. Home!" Miguel spat.

It only took a second, but you were sent home immediately. Miguel took another deep breathe before returning to his office to hopefully relax.

----------

"Hehe, he gets so mad when he finds me wandering around this place. It totally isn't my fault that all of you guys think of taking a break here and I just-hop into those thoughts and end up here!" You huffed, talking to Peter B. Parker and Jessica.

"Yeah, yeah, we still don't understand the whole hopping into thought bubbles thing you say you do. It's so confusing." Peter huffed.

"Oh, it's pretty easy. I'd like to describe it as a comic book, but you guys won't understaaaaand, the readers will though!"

"Readers?" Jessica groaned softly. You just laughed,

"Oh yeah! The readers reading this now! So like, normally it's a comic I hop around or thought bubbles or I just rip through the screen, but this time...It's the readers who bring me here!"

"I think I'm more confused than when I started," Peter whined and turned to Jessica who tossed you into the 'Go Home' machine, "Look, just...don't come back before Miguel gets bad again."

"Hpmh! I just said it isn't my fault I keep coming back!" You whined loudly, "The readers and writer keeps bringing me here! I am meant to share my wisdom to Miguel!"

"Why do I hear that Deadpool's voice?" Miguel grumbled, holding a cup of coffee as he walked by, "Again?"

"See! He neeeeeeds me! That has to be why the writer keeps putting me here!"

"What the hell is she babbling about now?"

"Please, don't ask. I don't think my brain can handle anymore." Peter whimpered. Jessica waved him aside,

"She's going home now, Miguel."

Just as the machine turned on, you immediately got sent home. Miguel let out a sigh of relief and right when he was going to drink his coffee, you appeared behind him.

"Fuck!" Miguel yelled as he noticed you. You just casually waved,

"Believe in the spirits beyond."

"I want her gone!"

"Miguel, we've tried so many times. I think...we just need to accept her appearing here." Jessica whispered. You grabbed Miguel's cup, taking a sip,

"Oof, so bitter. So now that I can stay here under the writer decides to let me go home, wanna show me around, big boy?"

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he followed you, mainly just wanting his coffee back.

------------

It has been a few weeks since you've stayed at the-

"Whoa, whoa. Really writer? You gonna make here stay here for weeks without going home?" You huffed.

Okay, sorry, um, it has been a few weeks since you started to willingly appear at the Spider Society.

"Thank you!"

....

Uh, anyway, Miguel has finally started to tolerate you to a certain degree. You still couldn't understand why you kept appearing there, but you were making the most of it. Miguel on the other hand, was starting to find something new to irritate him.

"It's just so fascinating how different each of you are~ Can I touch those wonderful large boobs of yours?" You whispered in awe towards a Spiderman. Yes a Spiderman.

"They're not boobs."

"It's okay to not want to admit your flaws. I buried mine with my neighbor." You whispered, slowly reaching out to the boob.

"Enough." Miguel hissed, grabbing the back of your collar and dragging you to his office.

"Hey! I was about to grab something that could have been the most magically experience of my life!"

Miguel chose to ignore you, growing annoyed at your bratty and quite ignorant behavior. Honestly, he was more annoyed by the amount of flirting you've been doing with the other Spiders. You just didn't know when to stop.

"I can't help it. A natural icon I am," You chuckled and grabbed Miguel's ass, "But this...is a multiverse icon."

Miguel's eyes lit up as he locked his door and tossed you on his platform. In an instant, he webbed you in place, making sure that you couldn't move to try to free yourself.

"Ohhhh~ This is kinky~" You cooed, rolling around like a worm. Miguel pinned you to the floor, his blood red eyes piercing into yours,

"Do you know how frustrated you make me?"

"So...you aren't happy to see me?" You grinned, your knee poking at his growing erection, "I made you horny!"

"Silence," Miguel covered your mouth, "Shit, you're so annoying. No one has been able to put you in your place. Do I need to be the one to do that?" He said with a huff.

You licked his hand in response, "Awe, not sure if a fucking will stop me, but you are so willing to try~" You hummed.

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he captured your lips in a kiss, wanting to shut you up. You couldn't help yourself and smirked, enjoying this moment. Parting your lips, you hummed as Miguel forced his tongue into your mouth, his hands roaming your body.

"Mhm~ Gim....sq..." You tried to say. Miguel broke the kiss, glaring towards your,

"What?" He grumbled, biting and sucking against your neck. You chuckled as his hands reached your breasts,

"Give em a squeeze~ You know you wanna~"

"Do I have to shut your mouth again?" Miguel grumbled, kissing you again.

You tried your best to behave, you truly did. You couldn't help but try to grind against his hips, press your chest to his, or even kiss his neck. Miguel was ready to web your mouth, at least until he started to rub your-

"Whoa, whoa, writer, now I don't mind a good sex scene, but lemme have some privacy here!" You huffed.

Uh, I kind of wrote smut in the warning...so I'm giving the readers what they want, a sex scene.

"Well, I want this man to myself right now! You write other smuts! Let them read those!"

But they wanted this...I can't just-

"Consent!" You huffed, literally spreading your legs towards a feral Miguel who had you pinned, "This is different! I'm totally into this freaky shit!"

"Who are you talking too?" Miguel grumbled, ripping your suit. You shushed towards him,

"The writer! Wait juuuuust a second before shoving that monster of a cock inside me!"

I need to give them a sex scene here. You're already helping me write it.

"No, no! You are trying to write it. I'm trying to enjoy the moment. So be a good writer and juuuuuuuust-"

---------

"Thank you~"

What just happened?

"Oh, I totally skipped the part where Miguel fucked me so good that I actually did shut up. Hell, I think I still feel weak in the knees. Who would have known the stamina and strength that man had. Fucking hot, can't wait to-"

You skipped my story?! I'm the writer here!

"Yeaaaaaah, but like, you can always write more smut. Let me just enjoy that moment to me~. I'm sure you understand~" You cooed.

...

"Hehe, go on. End the story. I'm sure you have other smut to write."

I just- Whatever.

Let's just say, you made yourself a permanent member of the Spider Society. You made sure to annoy Miguel just enough so that he could keep teaching you a lesson. Hopefully, we'll get to see one of those lessons one of these days.

"Maybe~ If I decide to show the goods."

Freaking Deadpools.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hahaha, hope you enjoyed! I always loved it when Deadpool would just talk to the narrator or hop comic pages sometimes. It was great.

@tojishugetiddies

[tomieafterdark]

begging for a dilf! toji or neighbour! toji drabble / fic

pairing: dilf!toji x babysitter!fem!reader

18+ mndi

You were laying down on Mr.Fushiguro’s new plush couch, the cold fabric pressing against your bare lower back, aching for the clock to strike midnight so you could finally go home. The boredom was practically killing you, babysitting on a school night turned out to suck more than you had anticipated. It was only 9pm and his kid was sound asleep, meaning you had around 3 hours of nothing to do. You nearly fell asleep too but the way your phone started buzzing in your back pocket woke you up. You were caught in a trance for a second, you had not had any action for so long, even simple vibrations from your phone made you feel something. 

The buzzing eventually stops and you are out of your trance, back to reality. You arch your back, fishing your phone out of the back pocket of your bell bottom jeans to see what all the fuss is about. It is just the group chat freaking out about something, you decide to check it out. 

You are practically blasted with messages once they see that you are online, nearly making your phone freeze. 

“Did someone die, what the hell is going on..” you think to yourself, trying to scroll up. The constant spamming makes it hard and eventually you give up, waiting for everyone to shut up so that someone can explain what is going on. 

THE GC

Y/n: Now that you guys finally stfu, can someone please tell me what happened??

Friend number one: Okay okay everyone be quiet, I will tell Y/n what’s up. 

Y/n: Go on, I am dying to know. 

Friend number two: sends meme JDSHJDK SORRY I misclicked- 

Friend number one: LMFAO stop it before Y/n kicks you out of the gc. 

Y/n: … 

Friend number one: My bad, okay so Y/n long story short I was stalking the sexy dilf you keep babysitting for and I found some very sexy pictures of him from when he was 22. I kind of understand why you keep babysitting for him now. *skull emoji*. 

Friend number two: Y/n, you are not slick. 

Y/n: I do not go there because of his appearance, but whatever. Go on. 

. 

Friend number one: Yeah keep telling yourself that, anyways I won't keep you waiting here are the pictures. You can thank me for them, because they were the results of my stalking skills.. *spams pictures of a shirtless young Toji partying in Okinawa Island*

You cannot believe your eyes, this man aged like fine wine. You have never appreciated Friend number one as much as you do right now, there are several pictures of a shirtless Mr.Fushiguro on vacation. You quickly save every single one and leave the group chat faster than you can blink, somehow being there made you feel flustered and staring at them alone in your camera roll felt better. 

You feel like a creep but you cannot stop staring and zooming in on body parts, he had this killer body since age 22 if not sooner...One year younger than you are now. You cannot stop imagining what could have been if you had been born sooner, how early 20s Mr.Fushiguro’s chemistry would have been like with you. He seems so reckless and wild in these pictures, you can see the chaotic glimmer in his eyes. 

You had never been able to admit this to yourself, but something about those pictures made you let loose and accept reality, which is that you find him very attractive. You had never seen him shirtless but his shirts were always tight and did not leave enough to the imagination. Though whatever you had seen of Mr.Fushiguro was nothing compared to those shirtless island pictures, they made you feel things you didn't know you could feel. 

The groupchat is very active again, pulling you out of your fantasies about the dilf. You give the group chat one last look to see if you missed any pictures and it seems you did not miss anything, the topic has changed from Toji to something else, and it does not interest you one bit. However, thanks to them, you get a very creative idea on what to do and finally kill some time…

You dim the lights and turn your phone notifications on, unzipping your pants as you slowly slide your phone down there. You keep it on top of your underwear, the vibrations from it are strong enough anyways. You shudder from how cold it is, even though it is not touching your skin directly the cold was enough to send shivers down your core. As the notifications start piling up, you adore the group chat more and more. Their notifications create a symphony and you catch yourself lost in it, buckling your hips to it and letting out small moans here and there. 

Your imaginations become so vivid as you get lost in the ecstasy, so much so that you can faintly hear his voice. It sounds like he is on the phone again, makes sense your brain would imagine him like that since he is always on the phone talking to someone. He does not even talk to you most of the time you get paid, he just hands you the money while giving you a nod and you leave. A sick little part of your mind wonders if he ever checks out your ass while you walk away, and if his imaginations stop there or if they go even further..does he ever imagine abusing those tight little holes of yours? You can not stop your mind, it keeps going further down the gutter, you imagine him using your holes for his pleasure and his pleasure only and it makes you feral. The thought of him filling you up with cum, not stopping after that but simply moving on to your next hole and brutalizing that one instead is pushing you over the edge. You are so close to cumming, completely lost in your own world but just as you are about to climax you feel a big cold hand push your stomach down. 

“I don't think I am paying you to be a whore, now am I?” His cold tone drags you down to earth very quickly, reality starts to kick in and all you can think of is how to avoid getting fired. Your mind is on fire trying to come up with an excuse but nothing comes out. You are so shocked you have not even taken your phone out or anything, like a deer in headlights you stay the way he caught you. 

He takes a seat next to you on the couch, staring at you intensely. He is so tall and huge compared to you, it fills you with butterflies but they are quickly overshadowed with fear and shame yet the lust does not seem to fully leave. Him catching you has made you more wet, you are doing your best at avoiding his eyes as you try to blurt out some excuse but he quickly abrupts you. 

“Don't bother using your empty head to come up with an excuse, just tell me the truth.” Toji reaches over you, fishing your phone out of your pants and you still have not moved. Though your internal dialogue is going insane, you are not saying anything. 

“Hmph..a phone.” He says while fishing it out, the notifications still have not stopped as your group chat is notorious for yapping. He tries to not laugh at the situation, because it was kind of creative of you to use your phone in such a way, he imagines what other things your dirty little mind could come up with. 

“I will take care of that, you will not be getting it back until I hear some explanations for what is going on here, understand??” He says as he turns the notifications off and sets it aside on the coffee table in front of you. 

You give him a nod. 

“So, the sooner you tell me why you thought this was a good idea the sooner we can both be done with this.” 

You eventually catch your breath, and the first thing that comes out is an apology followed by tears from the embarrassment. “I am so sorry Mr.Fushigiro, I know this excuse won’t do but I was extremely bored..one thing led to another and..” You start crying before you can finish what you were saying. Toji just looks at you, not with any understanding or even sympathy but rather like he also has a creative idea on how you will make up for what you have done. 

He gets closer to you and caresses your face. “Hey, it's okay. You are not the only creative one here, I know a way to fix this.” 

He was right earlier when he called your head empty, because you have to be brainless to not understand what he was insinuating. Instead, you were assuming he would cut your pay a few times and have you work for free. “I understand Mr.Fushiguro, I agree with your suggestion.” 

He was almost surprised at you being so open minded, almost but he had seen enough of the world to know when a brainless bimbo was talking to him. He decided he would not clarify what he meant, this would be another lesson on the side, which was: “do not forget to read the room before you agree to things.” He chuckled and said “call me Toji for now, okay y/n?”

You nodded. You were much calmer now, agreeing to everything he said, promising you would take your punishment without complaining, saying you would let him decide the rules and how much pay he would cut off..letting him control everything basically. You were so desperate to keep this job so you were determined to give it your all. 

You glance at the clock just as he is finished talking, it is midnight now so he should let you off the hook. “I guess I'll be going now..” You look at him expecting to give you your phone back. 

Toji just smirks. “Do you not remember anything we just talked about?”

You give him a confused look. “Yeah but it is midnight now, and I have a group project to work on tomorrow…Do you want me to babysit overnight or something?” 

Toji is almost getting impatient, you don't notice of course because he keeps a poker face and hides his boner with a cushion. He pulls up your phone, telling you to unlock it, and as you do he grabs it before you can even gauge what happened. “I will be telling your friends that you are feeling a bit sore and tired, so you will not be able to make it to the group project. Take a seat dear.” 

You do not know what to expect but you listen to him, the desperation to keep this job is overpowering your anxiety which is telling you to run the fuck away. He puts your phone down and gets closer, too close, invading your personal space. 

He stares at you in the eyes coldly. “I don't think you understand what is going on here, I took serious offense to what you were doing on my couch during working hours. I am not the type of guy that lets someone off the hook so easily.” He starts pulling on your jeans as he unzips them, taking them off effortlessly. His reflexes are fast, before you even let a sound out his big hand is covering your mouth. “Shh, little Megumi has school tomorrow. You do not want to wake him up now would you? I will have to prolong your punishment if you do that, so be quiet for me. Got it??” 

You nod frantically, what the fuck was this situation and how did you even get yourself in to it. You stare at your jeans now on the black carpet, that same carpet you sat on with Megumi earlier today while playing video games. You close your eyes, hoping this will be over soon. 

Toji is not in the mood to prep you, the little whore who decided to masturbate during working hours does not deserve that luxury. Instead, he flips you on your stomach rather quickly and holds you in place with an iron grip on your waist. Toji is hypnotized by your curves and back dimples, his gaze taking it all in hungrily as he is teasing both your holes with his tip making it hard for you to guess which one he will use. If only you had seen how big his cock is compared to your waist area because it would have made your stomach drop. You try to gauge his size while he teases your holes, just to kind of prepare yourself and know what you are in for..also you are praying to whoever is out there that he does not fuck you in the ass. It was so hot to imagine it, but now that he has you under him all vulnerable and mildly scared it feels different. 

He spreads you apart, his tip resting at the entrance of your cunt. He teases it slowly by barely inserting it instead of just rubbing like he did before, getting much more of your slick on it and making you quiver in the process. He keeps doing this until he has enough of your wetness, and then moves on to your other hole. You may be an airhead, but it ends here. You know exactly why he did what he did now, you can feel him pushing the tip in, your own wetness is working pretty well as a lubricant because a good bit of his tip actually goes in and it feels kind of good even though it hurts. You have never been this stretched before anally, and it's making you tear up a little. You shut your eyes hoping he won’t go there, the tip may feel good but you know he would not go easy and it would quickly go from anal to painal.  

God was a little kind to you today because Toji decided to punish your tight little cunt instead of your even tighter ass, however nothing could have prepared you for his size. You try your hardest to not let out a sound as he made it clear he could prolong your punishment, but you want to scream and cry so bad. What is worse of all is how a part of you was enjoying this situation, a sick part of you loved how he was conquering your body with or without your consent, how he was stretching you out so bad no one could fill the void after him. How he was leaving his mark in every single way. You could not help but arch a little, if anyone were to take you by sheer force it would be him, he was made for it. 

Toji has no mercy, he is slamming your hole with brute force. The friction from the couch is getting to the exposed parts of your body and the couch does not feel so cold anymore. The more he continues mercilessly punishing you, the more that sick little side of you takes over. You are starting to slightly enjoy the pain, so much that you become noticeably wetter. The squelching sounds were getting louder, and he heard it which prompted him to say “there is the whore I caught spread out on my couch earlier, I knew you were in there somewhere, just had to dig real deep for you.” in a husky voice, that tone and those words he said made you shudder. All you replied with was incoherent cries, met with him shushing you. 

As if your body isn't struggling to keep up with his pace and intensity, he decides to switch positions. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, like you are just his little doll, and slams you down onto his cock.He is so focused on chasing his own high, he does not give you even a second to adjust causing you to hold on to his shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh. You do not seem to get the memo, so he grabs your jaw making you look directly at him. “I don’t remember asking for a dead slut, start bouncing.” 

You start bouncing, struggling to keep a pace as your legs tremble and your wetness is leaking down your inner thighs and all over his veiny thick cock. Toji is not impressed with you at all, prompting him to grab your asscheeks, lifting you up and down his cock with the pace he actually wants, leaving you so speechless all you can do is put your head on his shoulder and cry. Your nails are scratching his back and shoulders so much, he has several deep cuts and you can see it is getting quite bloody. Not that he cares, this is nothing to him. Scratch away for all he cares, you are like a kitten to him. 

You are really starting to feel it in your stomach, it is filling you up and hitting every spot inside of you, including your sweet ones. “T-tojii- it’s too much p-please slow down..” 

“Can’t do slut, remember how you promised you won’t complain? It is very rude to not keep your promise, do I need to teach you some more manners now?? At your age??” Toji growls, giving you a hard slap on your ass causing you to cry out quite loudly. 

“Keep it down, don’t make me repeat this.” You just nod in response, biting your cheek so no more sounds come out..Bad timing though. You are starting to feel the tingles even more in your core and it is getting extremely hard to keep quiet. You are kind of lost in the build up, you are whispering/crying into his ear but it is mostly incoherent, he knows you are close though by the way you are clenching so hard around him and how loud the squelching sounds are. The little fire in your core is growing stronger every second.

He slows down his pace suddenly, and it is torture. He switches to deep slow strokes, causing you to get impatient. You try to move around and bounce but he is strong and keeps you in your place, stuck and unable to move. After what feels like forever of deep strokes, he decides to stop edging your cunt. He pulls out completely, leaving you in shock, he is still rock hard so why is he doing this. Just when you were liking it, he decides to pull this move. 

Toji thinks about using your mouth to get himself off and leave you there as he gathers his clothes, but he wonders how much more dominant and forceful he can be if he edges himself too. He knows you will be much more desperate and much more willing to let him use you if you don’t get what you want, hence leaving you like this. Maybe, with enough edging and coercion he could turn this little punishment into a permanent thing between you two. You have no idea but he had been waiting for this ever since you started babysitting, he could not give any fucks about the babysitter masturbating as long as she did her job.  

“I am gonna hit the shower, clean this mess and sleep over tonight, you know where the guest room is. It is not safe for you to go home at this age.” Is the last you hear from him before he leaves the living room, you guess your punishment will continue tomorrow but a sick little part of you is looking forward to it. You grin as you start to clean up.

© 2024 tomieafterdark | All rights reserved.

[hisonlykiwi]

"stargazing"

synopsis: you cross paths with the infamous satoru gojo. according to everyone on campus, he is an egotistical, arrogant, reckless, man whore. but after a night out with satoru, he debunks what the rumors say and turns out you two have more in common than you thought.

paring: satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of grief and death

a/n: i actually had so much fun writing about satoru, i'm planning on making this is series heheheh

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Your turn.” Utahime says, gently shaking your shoulder, interrupting you from your thoughts. You gaze over at the empty wine bottle sitting in the middle of your group of friends. God, what’s with college students and their love for spin the bottle?

You let out a huff in annoyance, “Actually guys, I’m going to go get a drink, I’m not in the mood.” You say, excusing yourself and getting up from the floor. “Booooooring!” You hear Choso say, you shoot him a glare and a middle finger to match.

Not bothering to respond, you exit out of the room and head downstairs. Not in the mood to deal with anyone. Should’ve never come to this stupid party, you thought to yourself. The music is getting louder the closer you approach the stairs, the party downstairs still lively as ever. The faint smell of weed and sweat lingering in the air.

To your luck, there’s a couple eating each other’s faces at the top of the stairs making it hard for anyone to pass them. “Excuse me.” You say, your voice falling short thanks to the blaring music. “Hello? I said excuse me.” You say to the couple. Again, no response. Another sigh escapes your lips, guess it’s a no on getting another drink.

If it was any other day, you would've probably just shoved them out of the way but today has just been fucking exhausting.  Somehow you let your best friend, Utahime, convince you to go to this house party to “take your mind off everything” and frankly, this party was only making everything worse. 

You walk away and wander the hallways of the house instead, it’s probably the biggest house you’ve ever been, to be honest. Who did Utahime say this house belonged to again? Was it Goto? Gejo? Godo? Gojo? Yeah, who knows but whoever it is, that man has exquisite taste.

You make your way over to a door at the end of the very long hallway, there were no people by this side of the house, and it was much quieter than where you were previously. Very much needed. The thought of having some peace and quiet brought some comfort to your aching chest.

To your surprise, the door farthest from the stairs and everyone was open, you made your way in. The room was decorated the same way as the rest of the house. Modern, clean, well decorated. You looked over to your right and spotted a balcony, perfect, you thought to yourself. 

You put your hand on the handle and opened the balcony door, the cool, night breeze hitting your face. It felt… nice. Completely opposite to how you were feeling on the inside. You closed the door behind, there was a table accompanied by two chairs and you decided to take a seat. The music was a distant hum in the background.

You took a deep breath and looked up to the night sky, the stars decorated across the dark sky. The stars were shining so beautifully but there was a particular star, bigger than the others, it almost seemed to be winking at you. You softly smiled to yourself and hugged yourself. 

It’s the 5-year anniversary of your baby sister’s accident and death. Grief is a funny thing; you think the pain is gone and then something as random as washing the dishes will set the emotions off again. You think you’ve moved on because years have passed but grief will keep reaching back and make you feel like drowning all over again and tonight felt like that. 

The lump you had been holding in your throat got bigger and heavier and before you knew it, a small sob escaped your lips and a cascade of tears started to come out. It never gets easier, does it? 

You felt a vibration go off in your pocket, a text from your best friend flashed on the screen of your phone.

Utahime: You okay?

You set the phone down on the table in front of you, not having the energy to text back at the moment. 

“Rough night?” You jumped at the sound of a man a few feet away. Your head felt so full of thoughts and emotions, you hadn’t realized someone had opened the balcony door. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” You say to the man, trying your best to wipe the tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “My apologies, I should’ve announced my presence a little louder.”  The stranger chuckled and put his hands up. You felt him walk towards you, “Here, take this.” You looked up to see the object in his hand, a simple white handkerchief. 

You carefully took the handkerchief from his hands and wiped the rest of your tears before looking back over at him. The stranger stood tall, his white hair illuminating beautifully against the moonlight. 

You let out a slight sniffle before saying “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else would be here. I just needed to get away from the party for a little.” He takes a seat across from you, “Yeah, tell me about it. There are too many insufferable people attending, anyway.” The stranger says whilst looking up at the night sky, just like how you were doing minutes before.

A silence fell upon you two as you stared at the man, unsure of what to say. His white hair was such a stunning contrast against the dark blue of the night and his bright baby blue eyes that reminded you of your favorite flower, the myosotis scorpioides. 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” He said, looking back over at you and meeting your eyes. “Probably not, I hardly go to parties. I’m not sure why I thought tonight was any exception.” You respond to him with a small shrug of your shoulders.

He gives you a soft smile, “I assume the reason was due to peer pressure from people or your friends perhaps?” You stifle a small laugh at his spot-on assumption, “Ding Ding Ding!” His eyes crinkle in amusement and he chuckles slightly “I’m going to take that as a very strong, yes?” 

“You hit the hammer right on the nail, stranger. Were you dragged to the party too?” He looks at the star-littered night sky, the smile on his face never disappearing. “Something like that.” 

Despite his cheerful aura, you couldn’t help but think there was a hidden sadness to him. 

“How about you? Having a rough night too?” You ask him to cause him to let out a snort, “Rough night, rough day, rough life. This time of the year is always quite the hassle for me.” 

“God, tell me about it.” You say with a sigh, thinking of your baby sister. He nods in agreement, tilting his head back slightly and stretching his arms. 

“I’m Satoru, by the way, I don’t think I caught your name?” You say your first name to him, and Satoru cocks his head softly, studying you closely, taking in your features. “Pretty name, it suits you.” 

The loud ringing of your phone startled you, causing you to jump in your seat. You hear a small laugh come from Satoru’s direction. You playfully roll your eyes at him and see Utahime’s name flashed on the caller I.D. 

You: “Hello?” 

Utahime: “Finally! Are you okay? You ran off on us and never responded to my text.”

You: “Yeah, I’m okay, sorry I got caught up talking with a, uh, friend. I’ll come back in a bit.” 

Utahime: “Make it soon because you already missed out on Choso and Nanami smooching.” 

You: “No fucking way! I would’ve pay such good money to have seen that, are you kidding me? Please tell me someone took a picture.”

Utahime: “What kind of best friend do you think I am? You already know I did.”

You: “Of course you did but hey, I’ll text you when I’m on the way back, okay?”

You hung up the phone and apologized to Satoru for taking the call. I’m a friend, hmm?” Satoru smirked over at you. “Shut up, I didn’t know what else to say, I just learned your name two seconds ago.” You playfully respond, crossing your arms over your chest.

 “Well, since we're “friends” now, I believe it is only right for you to ditch this party with me.” He looks amused, “Ditch this party, huh? Now why would I do that?” You say, raising your eyebrows at him. “Because I’m craving something sweet and who else better to go with than with my new friend?” You looked at the time on your phone, “You want to drag me away from this party to go get sweets at… 1 AM?” 

He gives you a small hum and grins. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You’re already having the shittest of days, having a sweet treat with a stranger can’t hurt. After contemplating for a few seconds, you give him a smirk, “You make a hard bargain, Satoru. Lead the way.”

You put the handkerchief Satoru had given you in your pocket and follow behind him. “I’m going to assume you have a place in mind?” Satoru placed his hands in his pockets and continued leading the way out towards the party that was still happening downstairs. “You think I’m going to invite you out to eat and not have a place in mind? C’mon have a little faith in me.” 

His comment had earned a small laugh from you. You kept following close behind him, making sure to not lose him in the sea of people. Not like it’s possible anyway, hard to miss the tall guy with the remarkable white hair. 

You pulled out your phone really quick to shoot Utahime a quick text that you’re leaving. 

You: I’m leaving with a guy named Satoru to go get something to eat really quick. (:

You put the phone back in your pocket and see Satoru glancing back down at you, “Was that your best friend?” He asks, you give him a small nod. Before you realize it, you two have made it outside and you’re in front of a vehicle and a random man is opening the door for you and Satoru?

“Thanks, Ijichi” You hear Satoru say to the man. Satoru turns to you and moves out of the way to let you into the car first. “Thank you.” You say to the man, Ijichi, who was propping the door open for you, and he gives you a smile in return. 

Satoru follows in after you and takes a seat beside you. “You have your own personal driver?” You whisper to him, Satoru chuckles and tilts his head slightly to the side, glancing at you. “I do, it comes with being who I am, but please don’t think of me as some privileged brat.” You have confusion written all over your face, what is he talking about?

“Where to, Mr. Gojo?” You hear the man ask up front. Gojo? Who is Gojo? Satoru responds to him, naming a late-night diner a bunch of the college students from school like to hang out at after they’ve gotten hammered after a night out. Ah, that’s Gojo. You stop, feeling the wheels in your brain turning, wait Gojo? As in?

You felt a vibration coming from your phone and open your phone to see a text back from your best friend. 

Utahime: Satoru? You mean as in, Satoru Gojo? THE ultimate snobby, rich kid whose family owns this house Gojo??

Utahime’s text confirmed your suspicions, holy shit, that was Satoru’s house?

“Heyyy, I’m not snobby.” You hear Satoru playfully scoff beside you who was peering at your phone, “Rich? Filthy. Snobby? Nope.” He continued, popping the P. “Satoru!! That’s an invasion of privacy.” You whine, giving him a playful shove at his shoulder. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to text your best friend back. “Not an invasion of privacy if your topic is me.” He gives you a sly smirk. You roll your eyes at his statement.

“Wait wait, let me get this straight, you’re the Gojo I keep hearing things about on campus?” You say, turning your body to face him. “In the flesh, sweetheart.” Satoru responds, he grins widely at the realization on your face. “I’m sure you heard all kinds of things, huh?” He continued, leaning back further in the seat of the car and spreading his legs slightly. Your legs and his almost touching.

You’ve heard so many stories about this Gojo guy, never caring to pay attention or learn who he was but couldn’t help but overhear all the bad stuff people would often say during class, in the library, in the hallways.

“Uh, I’ve heard a couple names being thrown around…?” You nervously say, unsure of how to tell him what you truly have heard. To name a few, Satoru Gojo has been described as a rich, egotistical, arrogant, reckless man whore whose family has given him everything on a silver platter.

He feigns surprise at your words and puts a hand on his chest, he looks at you with a mock-scandalized look. “You’re saying you have no idea how many nasty whispers and rumors there are about me? I’m basically the big bad wolf on campus.” He says in such a sarcastic manner. 

You give him a lighthearted laugh, “I try my best to not listen to the gossip that circles around at school but it’s hard to miss when everyone around you is whispering about the same guy over and over.” He chuckles at your response and crosses one leg over the other, he looks at you with an amused glint in his eyes, he's enjoying himself.

“I don’t even blame you; the rumors are impossible to miss. Believe me, I find it hilarious how absurd some of them can get.” He says with a grin. “It doesn’t bother you?” You curiously ask him, you can’t even fathom what it must be like being in his shoes. You’d probably never show your face in public ever again if you were him. 

“I’d be lying if I said it doesn't irritate me from time to time. It gets pretty annoying when everyone you talk to thinks they know everything about you. But you learn to ignore the majority of it.” He smiles slightly, “I’ve been surrounded by whispers and stares since I was a kid.”

Your heart can’t help but break for him, living a life surrounded in rumors and people talking down on you, cannot be easy but he seems to be doing very well. You reach out and put a hand on his knee and give it a small squeeze, “Despite all those people, you’re still here. You’re showing up and not ducking your head down at the nasty things people say about you. The universe knows if we were to switch places, I would move continents and change my name to never be seen again. You should be proud of yourself, Satoru.” You give him a small smile. 

Satoru's eyes soften and for a small moment he looks over at where you touched him. Something about your words and your gesture set off a warm feeling in his chest. He is quick to compose himself and throws you a smirk, to deflect the feeling that stirred within him. “Careful, I might start getting big headed if you keep complimenting me”

You throw your head back in laughter, “More than it already is?” You quickly respond. He chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. The natural conversation flowing between the both of you is a nice change from the people he interacts with others every day. 

“Well, I mean, we just met, you’re calling me your friend, you’re joining me on a night out and not to mention, you’re holding my knee.” You glanced down at your hand, forgetting you had left it there, quickly removing it and crossing your arms across your chest. A warm blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I was just being nice.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Satoru watches you for a few moments before he speaks, in a playful, mocking tone. “Aww, is somebody getting flustered? You look a bit red, sweetheart.”

You feel the car come to a complete stop, “You’ve arrived at your destination, Mr. Gojo.” Ijichi states. Thank the heavens above, this conversation was getting a little all too much. 

Satoru exited the car first and you couldn’t help but look at him and feel thankful. His presence is taking your mind off of her. Even though she was still there in the back of your mind… being in Satoru’s presence was comforting.

“Thank you for the ride, sir.” You thanked Satoru’s driver, Ijichi, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. You made your way out of the car, Satoru shutting the door behind you. 

You gaze over to Satoru who is looking down at you. At this angle, standing closer to him and looking up at him, he looks even taller. He put his hands in his pockets and gave you another smirk, “Shall we go, sweetheart?” You gave him a soft smile before sarcastically responding, “After you, “Mr. Gojo.” You say jokingly. 

He laughs in mock-annoyance at your sarcastic response, and he shakes his head, that familiar smirk still in place. “You’re insufferable. And here I am, trying to be a gentleman for you.” He walks ahead of you, following his lead, as he opens the door to the diner. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Gentleman.” You say, giving him a small wink. He lets out a bark of a laugh at your words, he shakes his head and steps inside after holding the door open for you. 

You both placed your orders, you opted for a simple side of French fries and a chocolate milkshake and Satoru a pizookie? You’ve been at the diner a hundred times and weren’t aware what that was or that they even sold them. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never had or heard of a pizookie.” Satoru stares at you in slight disbelief. “I know for a fact you are not acting as if pizookies are a vital part of life.” You say, giving him a deadpan look. “What is it anyways?” Curious as to what it is, it sounds like it wants to be a pizza and a cookie. 

“It is a big ass cookie with vanilla ice cream on top.” He says, you purse your lips in disappointment, “That’s it?” He clutches his chest as if someone had shot him letting out a big gasp, “That’s it?!” He repeats after you. “Pizookie means everything to me, don’t you dare talk down on her.” He half yells, causing some of the workers and some customers to look over at your table. 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh at his pathetic attempt of being mad. “Okay okay, I’m sorry for disrespecting the love of your life. Cross my heart it won’t happen again.” You joke, bowing your head down and putting a hand over your heart. 

Satoru squints his eyes at you with a mockingly unamused look on his face and he lets out a scoff before letting a smile break out on his face. He puts a hand on his chin and hums dramatically as if he’s contemplating if your apology was worthy enough “Hmm, that’s a good start. but I’m sorry to inform you that is not enough” 

Your mouth opens in shock, “What?! My apology was an award-winning apology. It would've had the prophets in awe.”

He crosses his arms, and he fakes disappointment at your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and scoffs at you. “Your ‘award winning apology’ was hardly up to my standards. I think you should apologize once more, and this time with more effort and sincerity” Satoru says with a sly smirk.

Just in time, the waiter brought out the food to your table and you both thanked them. Not breaking eye contact, you continue staring at each other, in some sort of staring contest. Without breaking eye contact he grabs the spoon and successfully puts a spoonful of pizookie in his mouth. He slowly chews the bite, and he looks at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying himself. He swallows the bite, “De-li-cious” he says, sounding out every syllable. 

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, the fry hitting his cheek. You both are holding back your laughter and Satoru manages to let out, “Excuse me? A fry was thrown at me?” Which was enough to let you both break out in a fit of giggles and laughter, warranting the looks of the people around you, once again, but you didn’t seem to care. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Thank you for the meal.” You say to Satoru as he holds the door open for you. He glances down at you and gives you an amused smile, “Glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Should’ve believed me when I said pizookies are life changing.” You couldn’t help but let out a scoff at his words, not wanting to say anything to prove he was indeed right.

He steps outside behind you and looks up at the sky momentarily before looking back at you. “Walk with me?” Satoru asks and you give him a simple nod. You follow him and walk alongside him, matching your pace, his footsteps in sync with yours. 

You look up at the night sky, your baby sister crossing your mind once again for the millionth time that night. You let out a small sigh, it was nice being distracted and forgetting about her painful death even if it was just for a fleeting moment. 

Satoru gives you a sidelong glance as you walk in silence for a few brief minutes, a comfortable silence in the air. You sense him looking at you like he wants to say something, but he hesitates, wanting to choose the right moment to speak. 

“Ask.” You softly say to him, his eyes widen slightly and his lips twitch as he looks at you and looking away, clearly surprised that you read him like a book. He gives a small smile before saying, “I was just curious.” He looks at you, as you both walk side to side. You look up at him, letting him know it’s okay to continue.  

He hesitates for a moment before the words leave his mouth, “I’ve been wondering… why did you agree to join me out? I mean, not to sound cocky, but I doubt it was only for my charming personality.” You barked out a laugh at his last comment. 

You pondered your answer for a split second before answering truthfully, “To be honest, I was having a shit night, and you were kind enough to ask me out to have food with you. And I just kind of went along with it, spur of the moment kind of thing.” You gave him a small shrug. 

Satoru lets out a small hum and gives you a small smile, a curious look enters his eye. “Why were you out there anyway?” You tense up for a moment hoping he didn’t notice, “I told you, I was having a shit night and I, uh, could ask you the same thing?” You ask him, trying to dodge his question, scared that once you say the actual reasoning that the water works would start all over again.

He shoots you a sympathetic look as you speak, he seems to notice your change in demeanor, but he doesn’t mention it. “You want the truth?” He stops walking and shoves his hands into his pockets. “My best friend, my one and only best friend…” He cleared his throat before continuing, “It’s the week of his death anniversary.” 

Your heart dropped at his response; eyes widened slightly at his words. The timing of his delivery shocked you to say the least. That was not an answer you were expecting in any means. You take a second to compose yourself, unsure of what to say since you’re dealing with the exact same thing, surprisingly. You let out a small sigh, your tone much softer than it's been the entire night. 

“I-I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru. I shouldn’t have asked, my apologies.” You say to him, not realizing tears started falling to your cheeks. He gazed over at you, his eyes softened at the sight of your tears. You whipped your body around, not wanting Satoru to see you.

There was confusion etched on his face, unsure of what was happening. You started speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s just the timing of the situation.” You looked up at the sky, the bright star you saw earlier blinking at you, again. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “It’s just, uh, today marks the 5-year anniversary since my baby sister’s death…” You choke out a sob.

He stays silent for a moment, taken aback by your words. He didn’t expect that answer, if it was even a possibility at all. He feels a pang of sympathy and sadness form in his chest at your response, knowing the pain is a feeling he knows all too well. 

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, turning you around slowly. You and Satoru were now facing each other but you didn’t have the energy to look up at him. That’s when you felt his arms wrap around your frame, a sign of relief escaping your lips. 

Satoru held the back of your head with his hand. He knows he should say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what to say that would help either of you. 

You cried in his arms and hugged him tighter, his embrace being the only thing holding you together. It was unexpected but, in this moment, it was everything… 

You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, still standing close to him. Words seemed to fail as you peered up at him through your wet eyelashes. There were tears in his eyes, threatening to fall on his pale cheeks. You both looked at each other, one look saying more than a thousand words. There was a mutual understanding there. He understood your pain and you understood his. 

Satoru breaks the silence, “Today fucking sucked, didn’t it?” You let out a soft chuckle causing a few more tears to spill, “One could definitely say that… but meeting you wasn’t so sucky.” He smiled softly at your words.

[kpop---scenarios]

Reckless (7)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Brothers Best Friend

Warnings: Mentions of depression, heartbreak, lying etc

Word Count: 2.2k

Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @caught-in-the-afterglow @ana-marais98 @rylea08 @astraystayastayastray @partyparty-yah @skzswife @sillyhal @feellikecinderella @asphalstead @minh0scat @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @gabriellamariee @hyun-hwanj @zerefdragn33l @stelle-aka-simp @chanbahng29 @blackbluerose666 @mmarusa

@glitter-z @seungminsapuppy

Previous Chapters

Minho sits in his room, the silence was deafening. He tried anything and everything to distract himself, but there was only one thing his mind kept wandering to, and it was the conversation he had with Jisung after you had gone upstairs,yesterday. His stomach twisted with anxiety as his mind raced, he knew he needed to make a decision that was best for him, but he knew, whatever decision he made was going to hurt someone he loved. He gets up, walking downstairs into the kitchen, where he sees you and Jisung, and his heart hurts instantly.

“Are you going out tonight?” Jisung asks you.

“I'm not sure. I don't have any plans yet, but I might see what Hyunjin is doing.” You say, glancing over to Minho. He completely avoids eye contact with you, making your heart sink. He hadn't said a word to you since the whole confrontation yesterday, and to be completely honest, you had thought that he would have been groveling and begging on his knees for you right now. But he wasn't. He looked stressed and sad. It made you want to hug him and tell him it was going to be okay, but you couldn't. You needed to remain strong and if he wanted you then he would show you.

At least you hoped he would.

Day after day after day you waited for Minho to say something to you, to acknowledge you but day after day he left a room if you walked in, with his head down. If you called out for him, he'd give you a sympathetic half smile before walking away from you. It left you feeling confused and hurt, wondering what the fuck was actually happening.

“I don't get it.” You sigh to Jisung. “He said he loved me.”

Jisung looks at you, trying to be sympathetic but you could tell he wasn't sincere and it made you wonder if he had done something. But you didn't ask, you left it alone. You wanted to talk to Minho, but Jisung didn't seem to think that was such a good idea.

“If he's avoiding you, it might just be for the best, yeah?” He says. “Obviously he doesn't want to talk to you, I don't think he's going to do what you expected him to do, Y/N.”

“It just doesn't make sense. Why say all those things if he knew he wasn't gonna try? Why would he get my hopes up? I really think I should talk to him.” You decide, standing up from the couch.

“No, Y/N. I'm telling you right now, leave it alone.” Jisung snaps.

You're taken aback, why was he snapping at you?

“I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt more than you already have.” He says, pulling out his wallet. “Here, take this, go out with Hyunjin, or better yet, go out with Chan. On me.” He smiles.

You hesitantly take the money, where was your actual brother, cause this guy was not it.

“Okay..” you murmur, grabbing your phone.

“That's good. Chan is the better option, I think.” He smiles, turning back towards the TV continuing to watch his show.

You walk up the stairs replaying what Jisung said to you. He wouldn't do anything to keep you apart, right?

That night, you're sitting with Chan, laughing and smiling at his stories, trying to be fully invested but you cannot stop thinking about Minho. You felt like he owed you at least a little bit of an explanation. If he didn't want to be with you, then tell you so you could move on but it felt like he had played nothing but games with you for months. And there was a partial love confession, until you finally told Jisung, and then there was a full on love confession. But since then it's been radio silence.

“You okay?” Chan asks. You look at him, slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up in my head.” You laughed.

“Everything okay?” He asks. You nod your, smiling at him as you finish your drink. Chan slides two shots towards you, wiggling his eyebrows as he glances from the shots to you, back and forth. You laugh, taking them both back to back. “Now get out of your head, and come back to me.” He smiles.

“I'm just gonna go to the bathroom quick.” You tell him, grabbing your purse, stumbling away. You can feel the drinks hit you like a ton of bricks. You sit down on the toilet, fully clothed and pull out your phone.

[11:57pm To: Minho] Why are you doing this to me?

[11:59pm From: Minho] I'm not doing anything. Please Y/N, stop.

[12:00am To Minho] Stop what? Stop loving you? I can't. I need closure. Please.

[12:02am From: Minho] Y/N. I can't love you. Leave me alone. Move on. Be happy. Just stay away from me. Don't talk to me, don't text me, don't think about me, and please stop loving me.

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as you read his text again, over and over. Why was life so fucking cruel? All you ever wanted was to be happy, and it seemed like you weren't even allowed to have that. But fine, if he wanted you to move on then that's what you would do, after you confronted him in person. You had too. You needed to hear him say those words to your face, you needed to watch him tell you to stay away from him, even if it ended up breaking you.

That night, Chan dropped you off and you drunkenly rushed into the house. You stomped up the stairs and stood in front of the door of Minho's room. You stood with your fist raised to bang on the door for a few seconds, trying to catch your breath while also trying to muster up the courage to actually knock. Part of you didn't want to hear him say those words because you really didn't want them to be true, but the other part of you, well you knew that you needed to hear them or you just wouldn't fully believe him.

Knock

Knock

Knock

You press your ear to the door, there's no sound of movement. Maybe he was sleeping? You place your hand on the door, twisting the knob before pushing the door open, only to find an empty room. The drawers in the dresser were open and empty, the closet where his clothes hung was empty. There were no sheets, pillows or blankets on his bed, all of his things were gone.

You rush out of the room, down to Jisung's room. You busted in, scared the shit out of him.

“He's gone.” You whisper.

“I know.” Jisung says.

“Why?” You ask.

“I don't know.” Jisung sighs. “He said it was time. He felt guilty for everything he did to you I guess.”

“No, I need to talk to him. He can't just move out without a word.” You whimper, fumbling with your phone.

“What did I say about talking to him, Y/N.” Jisung yells. “Christ, you don't listen. Don't make me tell you what he told me. Just believe me when I say, leave him alone.”

“What do you mean what he told you? What did he tell you?” You ask.

“You don't want to know.” Jisung says, avoiding your eyes.

“Tell me. Or I'll track him the fuck down.” You snap.

“He said you were nothing but a game to him. Just another notch on his belt. That you were just my little sister and nothing more.” Jisung tells you. You swore, in that moment, you could actually feel your heart shattering into a million little pieces.

“Oh.” Jisung watched as your face sank, the color completely draining from it. You said nothing else, just shuffled out of his room and went into yours. You closed the door quietly behind you, crawling into bed without the will to even get changed. Maybe if you slept, you'd feel better in the morning.

You didn't.

Over the next few weeks, It was like depression had fully taken over you. You looked in the mirror and saw a shell of the person you used to be. The bags under your eyes were heavy, your face was pale, hair was matted. You looked sick, and honestly you felt sick. You still couldn't get over the fact that he had said that about you. You'd never hurt this much over some man before and you hated yourself for letting him have this kind of effect on you but at this point you didn't know how to get out of it. You had charged your phone in weeks, not that you'd answer if anyone called or texted anyways. Hyunjin and Jisoo tried to see you, but you wouldn't even roll over to say hi. Instead you hid under your covers and silently wept until they left.

And Jisung. He tried to get you to eat anything, drink anything but you wouldn't. You had no interest in fueling your body. Until it had been just over a month and Jisoo and Hyunjin had enough. They busted into your room as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“Shower time!” Jisoo yells. Hyunjin marches past you, turning on your shower before throwing you over his shoulder and sitting you in the tub fully clothed, despite your weak protests.

“Why!” You yell out as Jisoo takes your hair from its bun. She sits with you, washing your hair, rinsing it, conditioning it and rinsing it again. She helps you brush your teeth before helping you into clean, dry clothes. And then she sits with you, brushing out your hair as you listen to her talk. A lot of what she was saying were things you knew were true and things you had told yourself, but it was different hearing it from someone else. A few hours later, she had fully brushed out your hair, took your hand and took you downstairs to make you something to eat. Luckily Hyunjin was already finishing up making some of your favorite food. You hadn't realized how hungry you actually were until you smelt it. Your stomach growled as your mouth drooled. You sat down, eating, talking and finally smiling for the first time in a while.

Every day after that, Jisoo and Hyunjin were over, and every day, you were becoming yourself a little bit more and more. You were finally starting to move on and move forward. It felt good. You were feeling good. You still missed Minho, and you honestly weren't sure if you would ever stop.

A few weeks later, you decided to meet up with Chan for coffee. He had you laughing until your stomach hurt, and it felt so fucking good to be out again and feel like yourself again, especially with someone who was genuinely interested in you and being with you. He had asked you out again that night, wanting to take you for dinner and out of drinks after. You accepted, excited for the night. You walked down the street after your coffee, telling Chan you had wanted to do a little window shopping before going home. Of course he offered to go with you but you politely declined, wanting to be alone and take your time. As you're walking down the street, you're looking at a beautiful silver ring in the window. You sigh before you continue walking, accidentally bumping into someone. You look up and your breath hitches. It was the last person you had expected to see out.

“Minho.” You whisper. He was thin, thinner than usual. The bags under his eyes looked almost exactly how yours had, along with his sunken face.

“Y/N.” He responds, staring at you, looking you up and down. “You look good.” He half smiles.

“You should have seen me a few weeks ago. I was a mess after you left.. after you said that shit about me.” You half yell, remembering you were in public.

“What?” He asks. “What stuff did I say?”

“Don't play dumb, Minho. I was just another notch on your belt. Just Jisung’s little sister. A game.” You say.

“Who said I said that about you? I never fucking said that.”

“Jisung. He kept telling me to stop talking to you because you didn't want to talk to me.” You explain.

“That motherfucker.” Minho snaps. “Don't go home for a while, unless you wanna see your brother's ass beat.” He yells, storming off. You follow him, sliding into the passenger seat of his car.

“I deserve to know what's going on.” You deadpan, buckling your belt. Good thing you did, because you and Minho managed to get to your house in record time.

“HAN FUCKING JISUNG.” Minho screams, storming into the house.

Jisung jumps up off the couch, looking absolutely fucking terrified.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, looking between Minho and you.

“I happened to run into Y/N on the street, where she started screaming at me about why I would say such shitty things about her. She doesn't know, does she?” Minho yells, pointing to you. “She doesn't know you told me that I had to choose between staying friends with you, or being with the one that I fucking fell in love with.”

“You did what?” You whisper, staring at your brother.

Jisung stands there, his eyes darting between you and Minho, unable to utter a sentence, not even a word. Turns out Jisung would do whatever he could to keep you apart.

[inmyheaddd]

play stupid games, win stupid prizes - jameson hawthorne x reader

a/n: this feels different from my usual writing style, idk if i like itt, lmk what u guys think! warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes??, possibly ooc jameson (his fboy era), popular reader x popular jameson wc: 1k masterlist

you couldn’t have been more reckless. really. jameson hawthorne? out of all the people?

it was supposed to be a one time thing, a stupid 7 minutes in heaven dare at a stupid party, his stupid friend who gave him your number, and his stupid decision to text you after the party. and your stupid decision to text him back.

—

lunch break finally came. you were sitting in the cafeteria as your friend swirled her iced coffee, “girl, how’d you get jameson hawthorne to literally be thirsting over you?”

you giggled and looked at him briefly, he was sitting a few tables over, but you could see the way his eyes were fixed on you. 

you shrugged as you turned your attention back at your friends. “guys, it’s not even that big of a deal, we’re barely even together.” the smile on your face said otherwise, one of your friends raised her eyebrows at you.

“i promise! besides, he’s the king of “casual,” and “mixed signals,” you know? i shouldn’t get my hopes up.” 

“i mean, this whole thing has been going on for 2 months now, things with him usually last a week. he’s definitely feeling something.”

“stop!” you exclaimed with a laugh, “you’re actually going to get my hopes up. don’t do that!” you snuck a glance over to his table, and he was talking to his friends.  

like he could sense your gaze, he looked at you, offering you a wink with his signature smile. you smiled back and looked back at your friends, only to find them all looking at you with the same expectant, knowing look on their face. 

“what?” your voice pitched higher, you felt like you were in court.

“you look so in love, it kind of sickens me.” your best friend piped up. 

“i’m not in love.” you shot back. a little crush was way different.

—

it was the end of the school day, jameson found you after class and walked to the car park with you. “i saw you at lunch today,” he glanced at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, steering you both to his car. 

“yeah? i saw you too.” you tried to bite back a smile as you glanced up at him. 

he hummed, “you seemed excited, what were you talking about?” the teasing tone in his voice was as clear as day.

“not you,” you replied, rolling your eyes at his cheshire cat smile, and when it only widened at your reaction, you continued. “i can assure you.”

he chuckled, “yeah well, some of your friends can be very loud. i wouldn’t be too sure.” 

you pursed your lips, “hmm, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you shook your head, trying to change the subject before your cheeks could heat up any more. “where is your car anyway?” 

“relax, princess. i know where i’m going.” he chuckled, before finally arriving at his car. 

it was new, you realized. bright red, convertible, lamborghini, and the license plate was different. 

it wasn’t his usual “WRECK2002”, and after looking for another second, you noticed something.

“are those our initials?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of jameson picking it out. it was cute in a way. 

“yes, they are. you like it?” his hand traveled up and down your back as he watched your reaction.

you hummed, “it’s alright, i guess.” you said smiling at him, knowing fully well you were obsessed.  

his grin widened as he cocked his head to the side. “guess i’ll have to do better next time, then.” he replied with another wink, before he opened the passenger seat door for you. 

“guess so,” you said, not tearing away from his gaze once as you got in. 

he closed your door for you, and then began to lean over the window. 

his lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, making your breath hitch. your eyes flickered down to his lips.

but then he pulled back, moving a strand of hair out of your face and giving you a grin. you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, and he he chuckled at that. douchebag.

—

he got into the drivers seat and started the car, one hand on the wheel as he leaned back in his chair. 

you tried to ignore the way his adam’s apple was on full view, the way his jawline looked so sharp, you really did, but it was damn near impossible. 

“where to, princess?” 

“my house, obviously. where else?” you replied with a hint of sarcasm.

he shot you a look, one corner of his mouth lifting. “and here i thought you’d want to take a detour. maybe show you a few of my favorite spots?”

“and what might those be?” you asked, playing along, even though you already knew where this was going.

“let’s see…” he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, pretending to think. “well, there’s this one place, it’s called my bedroom.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re nothing if not predictable, jameson.”

“predictable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “i’ll have you know, i’m full of surprises.”

“oh really?” you asked, leaning back in your seat, watching as he drove with one hand casually draped over the wheel, the other resting dangerously near your leg. “surprise me then.”

he glanced at you with an amused look on his face briefly, before turning his gaze to the road. you couldn’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes and his turned up lips. “you should be careful what you wish for.”

—

he pulled up to your house, and before you could move, he was already opening your door, standing so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

his eyes flickered to your lips, and your hands found their way to his chest. just as he was about to break the space, you took a step back, on your tiptoes reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

after muttering a small, “thanks for the ride,” and walking off, smiling to yourself in achievement, jameson let out a scoff of amusement, maybe even disbelief.

just as you got to the door, you turned around, giving him a little finger wave.

jameson was still standing there, dare you say even gobsmacked. his head was tilted to the side, and his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. he had a challenging grin on as his face as he waved back, sending you a chin nod.

—

as you lay in bed, facetiming your friend and giggling nonstop about what happened, a thought crept in. whatever this was with jameson, you silently hoped it wouldn’t end up like everything else with him usually did —wrecked.

taglist: @sweetlikeanangel @x-liv25-jamieswife @thecircularlibrary @wish-i-were-heather

@whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @sheisntyou @maybxlle

@anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @emelia07 (if you would like to be added or removed lmk 🤍)

[nitw]

i just wanna talk about tenga onigawara real quick because there’s not enough content of him and i think that’s a shame. like everything about him screams stereotypical banchou guy at first glance, and it clearly seems like he’s set up to become a minor antagonist or at least obstacle for mob. BUT THEN YOU LEARN that he’s 1) stupid 2) actually a decent and normal teen boy who just gets into a lot of fistfights

LIKE YEAH HE WAS A “DELINQUENT” but it was more in a reckless-teen-group-mentality way than him actively wanting to hurt others, and even then he actually enjoyed going to school despite his bad grades.

he’s just a guy! he’s kinda dumb but he’s alright once he puts his walls down! he’s interested in learning! he wants friends! he wants to make manga!!!!!!!!

[deconstructthesoup]

Thinking about a Nerdy Prudes Must Die swap AU

Steph---the mayor's kid who was put under a lot of academic pressure growing up, resulting in her getting lumped in with the nerds despite her struggling in school. She has to try twice as hard as everyone else, which gets seen as her being a buzzkill who does nothing but study, which makes teachers expect more from her... and, yeah, she's infinitely stressed. So stressed and burnt out, in fact, that when a pop quiz gets thrown at her out of nowhere, she finally breaks and asks to cheat off of...

Pete---one of the few popular kids who's popular not because he can play football or soccer or whatever, but because he's genuinely nice. He's taken Ted's advice just enough so he can seem cool without actively being a sleazeball, and he's even managed to be class president. Of course, he's still got a lot of nerdy interests he keeps under the rug, and he's also a lot smarter than he passes himself off as---so he never in a million years would've suspected that the mayor's cute nerdy daughter would want his help on a test, but he's prepared. Until, of course, they get caught by...

Max---the pastor's son who's well known throughout the school to be a judgmental and self-righteous asshole, holding himself and others to ridiculously high standards. He's still an untouchable menace, but instead of it being because he's a football star, it's because every single teacher and authority figure is swayed by his Good Christian Boy attitude, despite the fact that he has a C average (hey, you don't need to worry about grades if you're just going to take over running the church when you grow up). By all accounts, he's pretty much perfect---except for the fact that he has a secret thing for...

Grace---the head cheerleader who still grew up in a very Christian family, but she's embraced her crazy and has successfully talked her parents into letting her do more stereotypical high school stuff like, well, cheerleading ("it looks good on my college transcript, and it's a way for me to get steady exercise and keep myself in shape") and the occasional party ("it's just a fun thing between friends, and if any of them do anything reckless, I want to be there to help"). In reality, of course, she's the most unhinged popular girl in the history of ever, and nobody fucks with her because she's the type of girl who will bite you if you give her shit.

Brenda and Kyle are Steph's fellow struggling nerdy friends---Brenda got lumped in with the nerds because she's in the fandom zone, despite the fact that her head's usually in the clouds and she can barely pass classes, and Kyle's the awkward theater guy who's a total romantic but can't even properly talk to people he likes. By contrast, Richie and Ruth are Pete's friends, and while they aren't exactly cool, everyone knows Richie as the weirdly funny school mascot, and Ruth is Pete's incredibly cocky vice president. So, social clout.

And, uh... yeah