#as he's doing exactly what he's saying is a bad idea

[lavidavacomoverstappen]

hey! can you please write a lando × bustamante reader....where the reader is the younger sister of Bianca Bustamante and has a huge crush on lando but Lando finds her irritating for some reasons and one day he shouts at her after a bad race when she tries to console him in front of the McLaren crew.. after that lando felt really bad and he had grovel a lot for forgiveness (btw the reader is only one year younger than bianca)....if you do write this thank you very much 🧡🧡

🎀1,317 words 8561 Characters around 5 pages enjoy 🎀

ooo I’m not the biggest fan of bianca but I do love this trope :)

You knew that life was never meant to be fair to everyone yet you had no idea why life constantly tried to screw with you.

Ever since you were a child, you’d always been compared with your older sister, Bianca. She was always seen as the brave, bold, and beautiful one who dared to achieve her dreams and had high ambitions. Whereas people, heck, even your own family, saw you as the timid, overlooked, and frankly dull sibling. Did it hurt growing up like that? Yes, it did.

Did it hurt when all the boys you had a crush on would only use you to get to your sister? Yes, it did. Did it hurt to see your sister achieve everything you’d ever wanted in life and for you to only be known as her sidekick, or, in other words, her shadow? You really don’t remember the last time you’ve ever set yourself apart from your sister and her needs; it’s almost second nature for you to prioritise her and ignore yourself.

This habit of yours was noticed by the eyes of a young British driver. He’s found that habit of yours annoying ever since.

The day Bianica signed for McLaren under F1 Academy was the best and worst day of your life. You were beyond happy for her but you also felt yourself fading further into her shadow. With more media coverage and attention on your sister, you simply faded away.

You had frankly thought about packing your bags and going back home until the same blue-eyed British driver caught your attention. It was silly to say, but you felt like a little teenager with a huge crush.

You knew it wasn’t right to have a crush on your sister’s coworker, but the way he was made it almost impossible. You liked the way he talked, the way he walked, and the way he still had his accent. You liked the way his nose wrinkled any time you talked about sushi or fish. You liked the way that he was a ball of energy, always so confident and fun to be around. What you liked the most about him was the way he made you feel seen and heard. When you were with him, it was almost like you were just you and not Bianca's little sister.

However, within all the giddy feelings of having a crush on Lando, you could not ignore how badly McLaren was doing. It was almost pitiful how poor their race performance was. Qualifying 18 and 19th and having to come into the pits four times in the race would kill anyone’s mood. Lando was no different; over the course of the season, he grew more and more aggressive and agitated after each race.

Lando and her had formed a little ritual: after each race, he would do his interviews while she would wait in the garage, and he would go into his driver's room, and exactly 5 minutes later, she would show up with any sweet treat she could snuggle in, and they would just talk. Some days it would be him talking and her listening, and other days it would be her lifting his confidence up with encouraging words. It is safe to say she really loved their ritual, only hoping to continue their ritual with better results for him.

As the season went on, she noticed a shift in Lando's behavior. His happygo-llucky attitude towards her started to shift towards a more annoyed and irritated mood. It started when she tired of talking to him before a race; he didn’t take kindly to that and simply ignored her and rolled his eyes. It hurt her; it really did, and she could do nothing about it.

They were not friends; they were just forced to be together due to their situations. She knew he would never like her back, but her infatuation with him made each and every move he made romantic.

It started to affect her more when he started distancing himself from her. Lando never wanted to hurt her; he started getting fond of the girl he once was annoyed with. He didn’t know why he started cutting her off; he was trying to play dumb, but deep down he knew he started having feelings for her.

He messed up in Silverstone both on and off track. Home Grand Prixs always have a special place in drivers hearts. It was no different with Lando; Silverstone was the one place every British driver wanted to win in front of their home crowd on their home soil.

The race was long anticipated; she was in his driver's room prior to the race; they had their normal routine done and dusted; he stared at her for a second longer; and she started at his lips for even longer.

They both knew the tension in the room was inevitable; someone just had to make a move. McLaren was proper shit during qualifying, so all expectations were nullified even before the race started. With Lando starting in P9 and Oscar in P5, it irked Lando how well Oscar was doing in the same car as him. A rookie driver beating the team's star child was never a pretty image.

The race started with Lando’s car being 2 seconds off the pace of K-Mag, which was really nice for him. As the race progressed, Lando almost made up 3 places by the end of the 38th lap.

However, McLaren messed up Lando in the pits, being stationary for almost 18 seconds. His 6th place turned into a plum last, and to make matters worse, he ended up retiring the car simply out of spite. He knew he was mad, and he showed it really well on the cameras, especially towards his team.

She knew it was a risk to go see Lando, especially after seeing how mad and snappy he looked. She knew he was probably beating himself up over the way this race went. It didn’t help that Oscar ended up on the podium. It was horrible, really, but neither of them could do anything.

He saw her enter his room; he didn’t like that. He didn’t want her to see him like this, all beaten and broken down. He didn’t realise when his tone shifted or when he felt the anger rise up within him.

All she had said was, “It’s not your fault; I know you are going to do better.“ That’s all he let her get out before he exploded.

“I honestly don’t remember asking for your opinion. God, you are so pathetic sometimes, always searching for attention from anyone who spares a glance at you. It’s all your fault; you think it’s funny to come into my room and give me glances right before a race. God, why are you so fucking stupid?"

“Maybe this is why your sister will always be better than you; your parents probably saw that, and so does everyone else when they see you and her together. Look at her; she’s a driver, and look at you sneaking into a driver's room, offering yourself to him all for what?? bloody attention?? Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore. All you’ve done is clutter my brain.”

Y/N walked out of his room with hot tears running down her face, her face all red, and a pounding headache. But what was worse than all that pain combined was the pain running through her heart; it genuinely felt like her heart was snapped into two and stepped on by a herd of elephants.

She didn’t know why he snapped at her; all she wanted was to help him. Everything he said made her fall into a spiralling downfall. All the work she’s done to keep her insecurities hidden and healed, Lando’s words ripped them apart and left them burning red and raw.

#lando x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula one #lando norris x reader #mafia!f1 #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 #hurt/comfort #fluff #landoscar #charles leclerc x wife reader #mafia!charles leclerc #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #fernando alonso x reader #max verstappen fic #carlos sainz x wife reader

[pomefioredove]

Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending | RSA ending

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #staff parents being EMBARRASSING and CRINGE compilation #queued

[dixons-sunshine]

Bloodthirsty | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: When you started your relationship with a vampire, you were assured that he would never feed from you—he would only ever continue feeding on animals. However, in the heat of a passionate moment, you found yourself wanting him to do exactly what he assured you he wouldn't, and it turned into an extremely thrilling experience.

Genre: Smut.

Era: Apocalypse, no timeline in particular.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, dry humping, unprotected p in v.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: I've been loving vamp!Daryl recently and had to write my take on him. It's my first time ever writing something like this, and I'm really bad at writing smut, so I'm sorry if it sucks. I hope you like it, though!

Based on this post by @norman-fucking-reedus.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Shit, baby,” you moaned against Daryl's lips, rolling your hips leisurely against his and creating a pleasurable friction between the two of you.

Daryl groaned in satisfaction, deepening the already steamy kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, slowly guiding your movements as the bulge in his pants grew with each passing moment.

Your hands moved to his hair and gripped tightly on the brown locks, pulling gently. You successfully coaxed a low whine from your partner, making you giggle against his lips. Daryl detached his lips from yours and started trailing sloppy, wet kisses from your jaw all the way down to your neck.

You leaned your head back to allow him more access, blissed out by the feeling of his lips on your neck. However, Daryl stopped momentarily to regain his composure, your mere scent being highly intoxicating to him. He slightly rubbed his nose against your shoulder to prolong the high he got from your scent alone, breathing heavily to restrain himself from doing what his senses were telling him to—to sink his fangs into your flesh and drink your blood.

Noticing his hesitance, you withdrew and looked at him. You noticed the way his pupils were blown with lust, but your main focus was the way his fangs were slightly longer than usual, something that only happened when he was hungry and wanted to feed. Then, in your lust-induced haze, a scary yet thrilling idea filled your mind.

“Feed on me,” you whispered, cupping Daryl's face in your hands.

Instantly, Daryl shook his head in denial. “Nah, I can't. I dun' wanna hurt ya,” he told you, trying to steady his heavy breathing and retract his fangs.

“You won't hurt me,” you replied, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. “You won't ever hurt me.”

“Ya dun' know tha',” he disagreed, his hands involuntarily tightening their hold on your hips. “I haven't had human blood in a lot of fuckin' years. Wha' if I can't stop? Yer too precious to me to risk tha'.”

“Do you trust me?” you asked him, gazing deeply into the blue eyes that you loved so much that were darkened with lust.

Daryl nodded. “'Course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say that I trust you. I want you to feed on me. I want you to know what my blood tastes like. I want you to do this, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl inhaled sharply when you removed your shirt to expose your shoulder, his self-restraint dwindling with each passing second. He looked at you questioningly, clearly giving you a chance to change your mind if you wanted to.

“Ya sure?” he questioned you.

You nodded. “I'm sure.”

Daryl took a deep breath before lowering his face to your exposed shoulder, placing a few soft, tender kisses along the soft skin. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair again, your fingers threading through the brown strands. He licked one spot on your shoulder once before he finally sunk his fangs into your flesh, instantly drawing blood from the wound.

You yelped and flinched at the contact, your hands tightening on his locks. The pain soon dulled into a small ache. Surprisingly, the ache was rather pleasurable, and a small moan escaped you.

Daryl closed his eyes, a guttural groan vibrating against your shoulder. The taste of your blood had him practically melting; animal blood was more than enough to satisfy his hunger, but he had to admit, you tasted so much better. You tasted better than any five star meal he had back when he was still human.

Without even thinking about it, he continuously rolled his hips up against yours at a steady pace, the hardness of his bulge pressing pleasurably against your clothed clit. You whined, grinding down against him without even thinking about it, entirely blissed out from the entire situation.

Somehow, you managed to free Daryl's hard cock from the confines of his pants. Moving your panties to the side, you adjusted yourself and slid down onto his cock, moaning loudly at the pleasurable stretch. Daryl groaned for the hundredth time that night, his arms tightening around you while continuing to drink mouthfuls of the refreshing crimson your body put out for your survival.

Without waiting for your go-ahead, Daryl started moving himself up against you, his cock slipping in and out of your warmth at a fast pace. You met his vigorous pace with equal enthusiasm, chasing that familiar high that only Daryl knew how to successfully pull from you. Even while his mind was cloudy from both the pleasure created between your bodies and the tasteful drops of blood flowing down his throat, he managed to think of your pleasure as well, continuously hitting that one specific spot that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck—shit—holy fuck,” you cried out, closing your eyes as the familiar knot started forming in your stomach. In record time, you could feel the same knot start to unravel, making you claw desperately to Daryl's shoulders, his hair, anything. Anything just to ground yourself back to reality.

All it took was for Daryl to bring a hand between your bodies and to rub your clit with ample enthusiasm for you to completely unravel. You cried out in pure ecstasy as the coil snapped. Daryl removed his fangs from your shoulder, instead opting to lick at the blood that poured as he continued to move your hips against his. Daryl soon followed suite with his own unraveling, finishing inside you for the first time ever.

Tired out from your prior activities and from the blood loss, you lowered your head to rest on Daryl's shoulder. You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath. Daryl placed on last kiss to your exposed wound that now throbbed with a dull ache before flipping you on your back, pulling out of you.

Daryl's eyes stayed on you the whole time as he tucked himself away, worried lines creasing his forehead. “Peach, are ya okay?” When you didn't respond right away, Daryl desperately held your face in his hands, concern evident on his features. “Peach—”

“I'm okay,” you finally managed to whisper, giggling slightly. “I'm more than okay. I feel better than I've ever felt in my life.”

Daryl sighed in relief, wiping at the blood that trickled down his mouth. “Jesus, ya scared the shit outta me.”

You giggled again, staring at the man you loved through tired, half lidded eyes. “We should definitely do this again.”

Daryl nodded, moving to the edge of the bed. “If yer up fer it, sure. But not today. Ya've lost enough blood. We need to get ya fed and strong again, get ya ready to be up fer the run tomorrow.”

“Before we do that, I just have one question for you,” you stated, halting his movements.

“Wha's tha', darlin'?” he asked, sending you a questioning look.

“How do I taste? Good?”

“Good?” Daryl asked rhetorically, letting out an amused laugh. He gripped your leg gently and gave you a heated look. “Sweetheart, ya taste fuckin' divine.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #vampire!daryl #vampire!daryl dixon #vamp!daryl #vamp!daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl x reader #daryl x reader smut #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus

[bi-writes]

If you have time I am kindly asking for Simon and the teams POV on the arranged marriage fic!! Like why they put that ad out! I also think they’re silly for doing the whole ceremony in their gear 👉👈

the arrangement prequel

it wasn't much of a choice. ghost knew this was coming, knew this might happen--disciplinary action from the increasingly...unorthodox ways he was coming back from an op.

one too many times, a capture or kill became looking for the pieces of their target scattered across the field. an accident on the way back to interrogation--he doesn't know how his blade ended up embedded in their mark's throat. he misfired his gun--it's too bad it went straight through that prisoner's forehead.

disobeying without saying no. taking matters into his own hands without exactly defying the rules. ghost had been walking along the boundary line for a long while, and he knew eventually someone would realize the risks he was taking.

it was kate's idea. ghost needed something to chew on, something to satiate the hunger in his bones. a companionship, is what she tells price, but even he knew that was a stretch. anything given to ghost would surely be shredded apart on impact. anything that belongs to him ends up tucked underneath layers of shadows, not to be seen again.

but ghost is the best at what he does. all kate needs is for him to fucking listen once in a while.

when they ride back in the humvee, ghost is fiddling with the chamber of his pistol when price speaks up.

"got somethin' new," he says, looking into the rearview mirror. the sergeants shuffle a little closer to hear him. "new program between CIA and SAS. pilot program, not...exactly routine. but they'd like one of you lot to be the first to participate."

"what is it?"

price clears his throat, "the legality is a grey area. but both parties need to be willing."

"spit it out, cap'n."

"an arrangement of sorts," he says finally. "it's...not a secret 's hard to keep a bird with the things we do...always away, hard to reach. but you're the best at what you do, and i think if you take it seriously, it could be good for one of ya."

soap snorts. "cap'n, ye wanna play matchmaker with us? see if we're worthy of little bonnie spies?"

price snorts, rolling his eyes, "i need you to set an example, is what i need. i need one of you to step forward."

ghost looks up when he says that. his eyes flicker, and he looks at his captain, who keeps his eyes on the road as he drives. he hears what price doesn't say. this is your punishment, he imagines. and you will take it and not say a word, like the lieutenant that you are.

in the dark of his room later that evening, he opens the file with your name typed across the front. CONFIDENTIAL it reads, and he flips the manila folder to spread your profile out onto the desk.

you're smiling in the first photo. it's a headshot, from high school maybe, from college, a pretty photo of you beaming at a camera with a nice background. he eyes your height, weight, measurements, the skills they've identified and the answers to your questions about why you want to participate in the program.

Q: What kind of partner are you looking for? A: Resistant. Unmovable. Loyal.

Q: Why do you want to participate in this program? A: I'm tired of being disappointed.

Q: What are some of the qualities you possess you would like your partner to know about you? A: I'm not afraid of what I don't know.

short answers, straight to the point. affirmative and honest, with no room for interpretation. ghost doesn't need interpretation; he knows what it is you're saying.

when he looks back at your picture, he brings it closer, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. the smile you wear, while beautiful, isn't real. it's a persona, a ruse, a costume that you wear to put the outside world at ease. you understand that a smile makes you agreeable, but he knows, somehow he knows, that there must be a tick that you feel that no one is able to quiet, an anger and a lilt to the soft voice you must speak in that carries the weight of your defiance and your disappointment with everything the world is that you thought it wouldn't be.

ghost isn't told that the program is a lie. you aren't an operative for the CIA, you aren't some kind of spy in need of company. when he reads the rest of your file, he is amused because he knows the rest is made-up bullshit that doesn't apply to you. you are as civilian as they come, but with how well you lie, he wonders if you should be recruited just for that.

with just a little training, he thinks perhaps you might be everything your country needs and more. a little blood wouldn't scare you.

it's weeks later when ghost eyes the date on his calendar. he has marked it with an X, black marker haphazardly traced there to indicate the day. he told price he doesn't want bells and whistles--no music, no men, no party. an unmarked room and his bride is all that is necessary.

he steps outside to smoke a cigarette. he sucks on it gently, blowing it out to the side, and he eyes the car that pulls onto base carefully. when price steps out of the drivers' seat, ghost stubs out the cigarette and turns the corner. he catches a glimpse of a lace veil before he disappears.

and when he steps into the room hours later, your back to him, he can't help the way his pupils dilate and the way his body goes rigid with rage. there you are, standing there, in white silk and lace, your back to him but the picture of elegance and the presence of something honestly deserving.

it is only when he lifts the veil off of your face and sees those eyes that he understands what you are, what you wear.

a façade, a beautiful mask of your own, to cover up the ugly you hold on the inside.

he smiles under the mask when you kiss him over the fabric. because fuck, yes...he doesn't care where you have come from. he doesn't care that they lied about who you are, that they didn't tell him the truth, that in all honesty, they have given you to die and you don't know it--he doesn't care because it worked, at least for him. the finest flesh he has ever set his eyes on. he cannot wait to brand you for what you are worth.

if they meant to punish him for the crimes he has committed, he is sorry. because you are his reward, and there is no hell to pay.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #dark!simon #simon thoughts

[princessbrunette]

ok on the mandalorian topic..

feeling rich boy bounty hunter rafe with the mask and people don’t know who he is!!! (to protect identity ofc)

if reader got kidnapped she’d not even know it’s rafe!! his voice isn’t familiar (esp muffled by the helmet) so she thinks he’s a rando!!!!!

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹ 🦢

i love the idea that you’ve socialised with rafe before, thinking he’s the perfect charming gentleman at all the galas or political events you were forced to attend — only to eventually be thrown over a shoulder and taken back to a holding cell in a ship, something familiar that you can’t put your finger on about the drawl of the masked bounty hunter who took you.

“i can pay you, whoever instructed you to take me i can buy them out. name a price, please! just let me go. i don’t want any trouble!” you shudder, eyes watering as you huddle in your constraints, staring up at the masked hunter.

“yeah, i know you don’t want trouble alright? neither do i…” the hunter shakes his head tiredly setting down all his weapons and equipment that he’d used to kidnap you as the ship hums on autopilot, filling the silence between the two of you. “look i swear i don’t… want trouble either. m’not going to hurt you. understand?”

you furrow your eyebrows, not sure how trusting you should be of the man who threw you over his shoulder and took you away from your home planet. he goes to remove his mask, clicking the side and letting it hiss before placing his hands to lift it and you gasp from habit, hands flying over your eyes. it was forbidden to see a mandalorian without his mask so you thought.

“i’m not a mandalorian kid, open your eyes.” he sounds exasperated and you frown, eyes flickering open to follow the familiar tone. rafe cameron stands before you.

“rafe?” you breathe and he licks his lips, eyes resisting a roll at the fear in your tone as he walks to set his mask down.

“yes— okay, i know. didn’t wanna have to do this shit either trust me but i needed you to hear me out.” he walks over before squatting down infront of you, slowing his movements and lifting his hands to show he comes in peace when you flinch. “we… we can mutually benefit eachother here. just… hear me out.” he gazes at you intensely, wide eyes flickering between your own.

“what is it you want?” you whisper, stiff as a board.

“uh… your hand. in marriage.” he nods, itching his temple. you say nothing, eyes only widening.

“are you joking?”

“yeah okay i get it, big bad rafe cameron, right? you’d never wanna marry me, whatever — look, your planet is about to get fuckin’ invaded. i got people on the inside of this war tellin’ me there are ships armed to the god damn teeth on the way to naboo right now wanting to blow that shit up, so right now i’m your only friend alright. my dad… he— he can get you out of this. but you need me. alright?”

you stare in shock, sick to your stomach as you thought of anyone on your planet getting injured in the name of war — something you didn’t truly support in the first place. you wasn’t sure just how far you’d go to save your people. your eyes well up, and after a moment you speak.

“and what exactly do you get from this, rafe?”

he shrugs, mouth turned downwards as he pushes himself to his feet again to pace and put some distance between you. “the trust of the public. people— people love you, right? you’re the peoples princess, y-you can’t do wrong in their eyes. i’m on thin ice with the council. my image is uh… kind of relying on this. you’re gonna save me.”

you want to yell at him, you want to refuse. but as you tug weakly on the metal cuff keeping you by a chain to the wall, you start to accept that you might not have much choice here.

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹ 🦢

#monkichixo #starwars!au #rafe cameron prompt #swbountyhunter!rafe

[radawayghoul]

His Little Dove | Chapter 1

The Plan

Warnings: cursing, slight age difference, innuendos, height difference, ummm calling people names, angst, i think i switched from second to third POV at a certain point so..bad/subpar writing is a warning lol, 18+ only, MDNI

Pairing: Lee Russell x Reader (AFAB)

Word Count: 2,123

A/N: it's finnniisshheeddd!! ugh i actually am so insanely proud of this chapter!! thank you so much to everyone who has been waiting to read this!! i'm genuinely so honored and am starting chapter two as we speak!! the comments and stuff really motivate me so much 🥹

 Following behind Lee and Neal, Y/N listened in on their conversation, a bit confused as to why you’d been invited. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, the bloodbath begins,” Lee said around a mouth full of smoke, “She’s got me off my rocker, Gamby. We gotta act quick,” Lee adjusted his hold on his cigarette, “Now, she’s tied up in teacher reviews for the next 72 minutes. That gives us some time.” 

Y/N arched a brow. “Time to do what, Lee?” You questioned him, “Who exactly are we sabotaging?” Y/N knew the name of Lee’s game by now. 

“Oh, great, Russell, why did you invite her?! She’s not even familiar with the parameters of our plan!” Neal exclaimed, yanking his toothpick out from between his teeth, pausing in the middle of the school parking lot. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Gamby!” Lee whined, “Treat Y/N with a little respect! Ohhh, Y/N, darlin’, I’m so sorry for this fat fuckin’ losers disrespect, please just ignore him, okay, pretty bird?” Lee gave you a sickeningly sweet smile before turning back to Neal with a disgruntled look, “Loosen the fuck up or I will do this shit on my own motherfucker. Now, let’s go dig up some dirt on that grimy bitch.” 

Neal scoffed but followed after Lee begrudgingly, Y/N speeding up her steps to keep up. 

You had no idea WHO you were sabotaging but you weren’t one to say no to Lee. You never said no to Lee Russell. And you absolutely never fucking would. 

-----------

The three of them rolled up on a house that Y/N knew all too well. Lee’s house. This did little to lessen your confusion but you trusted Lee. 

“Is this where she lives? What a shit-hole.” Neal chuckled. 

Y/N snorted as Lee ripped off his sunglasses. 

“This is my house, motherfucker! It’s a mid-century sea ranch!” Lee yelled, huffing a sigh before continuing, “Now, stay here, I gotta go get somethin’.” Lee got out of the car and strutted towards his front door. 

“You should go easier on him, Neal. Really.” Y/N said, crossing her arms, leaning back into her seat. 

“Oh shut up, Y/N! God! Stop being so pretentious.” Neal groaned, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. 

Y/N looked over as Lee was followed out of the house by his screaming mother-in-law, Mi Cha, looking stressed to the heavens. 

“Shut up! Shut up! All I hear is gibberish from you, shut up! Go back in the house!” Lee yelled before turning to walk towards the car, “Like nails on a fuckin’ chalkboard.” He groaned, stopping when he got to the car, closing his eyes in frustration as the woman kept screaming, “GO BACK IN THE HOUSE!!!” He yelled louder this time, pointing angrily at the open door. 

“FUCK YOU!” Mi Cha yelled, finally walking back inside. 

Lee grunted as he got back inside the car, a noise that made the butterflies in the pit of your stomach stir, shoving a bag into the back of the car into your lap. 

“Y/N, would you be a dear and hold this?” Lee smiled at Y/N, always being so sweet with her, even if he was out of breath. His smile dropped, however, the minute he turned towards Neal. “Go.” Lee demanded.

“Everything okay?” Neal questioned. 

“Just go.” Lee sighed, leaning heavily into the passenger seat. 

Y/N’s heart hurt for Lee. He was always under so much stress. Ever since his mother-in-law moved in, he had not been doing so well. He’d been a bit…wilder than usual. Always wanting to get into something scandalous or cause some sort of raucous to relieve his stress. Was it always the best solution? No. No it wasn’t. But, Y/N wasn’t going to deny Lee any sort of stress relief…even if it did mean they’d have to cover for him. 

-----------

Neal cleared his throat as the three of them continued their journey to wherever it was that they were going. 

“So, uh, was that woman your wife?” Neal asked, looking over at Lee nervously. 

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle slightly. 

Lee looked at him completely disgusted. “Don’t be asking me personal questions. We ain’t fuckin’ friends, okay? This is business.” Lee scoffed. 

“Leeee..” Y/N said quietly, leaning up slightly to rest their hand on Lee’s shoulder, “Breathe.” Y/N massaged his shoulder, trying to help him relax. 

Lee relaxed a little into Y/N’s touch, taking a deep breath. Y/N was really the only one to have this sort of effect on Lee. She could calm him in almost any and all situations unless he was really, really stressed. 

“Friends?” Neal laughed, “I am not trying to be your friend.” 

“Over here tryin’ to make a fuckin’ friend and we about to do a mission.” Lee scoffed, leaning back into Y/N’s touch even further. 

Neal looked between the two of them with a raised brow, “You’re the one trying to make friends the most.” Neal challenged. 

Lee sighed, slipping his sunglasses back onto his nose. “Just shut up, Gamby, god!” 

Y/N shook her head at the two of them, pulling her hand off of Lee to sit back once more. 

-----------

The group of them rolled to a stop in a very well-off looking neighborhood. 

“Who are we here for, Lee?” Y/N questioned, peering out the window of the car. 

“Dr. Brown’s deep, dark secrets.” Lee smiled mischievously, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Belinda?! Lee…honey, I need you to bring yourself back to earth for a moment. You know I support you in all that you do but this is a suicide mission, sweetheart.” Y/N told him sweetly, sighing a little. She knew this man was up to something scandalous. 

“Don’t start, Y/N. God, you both just really wanna piss on my parade, don’t you? Maybe you two should be fuckin’ butt buddies and I’ll do the work that fuckin’ matters.” Lee grumbled, getting out of the car. 

Y/N sighed, following after him while Neal awkwardly stayed in the car. 

“Lee, sweetheart, you know it’s not like that at all!” Y/N said, walking over to place a hand on his back, “Don’t get all grumpy with me like that, it hurts my feelings, doll.” Y/N frowned up at him. 

Lee scanned Y/N’s face with his famous sad puppy dog eyes before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Alright fine, fuck!” He exclaimed, looking down at his feet, “I’m sorry, okay? There I said it. Now, come help me take this dirty bitch to hell?” Lee looked at Y/N with a cute smile, batting his lashes at her. 

Y/N closed her eyes. “I’m gonna regret this..but fine. I’d do anything for you.” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. 

“Are you two weirdos finished? We’re running out of fucking time!” Neal grumbled as he stomped over to them. 

Lee rolled his eyes, grabbing Y/N’s hand to drag her towards Dr. Brown’s house. “Shut up, Gamby!” 

The three of them shortly arrived at Belinda’s house where Neal and Lee began digging their way through the woman’s garbage. 

“Ugh,” Y/N gave them a disgusted look, “Lee, I love you, but that is fucking repulsive.” 

“Oh, please, just pretend I’m digging in your ass, that’ll make the picture a whole lot prettier.” Lee winked at Y/N with a smirk.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, heat rapidly rising to her cheeks. “Lee fucking Russell, do not say that shit to me,” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, feeling sheepish. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it when I talk dirty to you, darlin’.” Lee’s smile grew as he took in her red appearance. 

“So..uh..I’m confused, are you two like..dating..or..?” Neal questioned, watching the pair with an expressionless face. 

“NO!” Y/N said much too quickly before steadying herself, “No, we’re just friends. Lee just doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up.” She grumbled. 

Lee placed an offended hand on his chest. “That no was a little too quick for my liking. What? Am I not good enough for you little miss honors English teacher? Huh? Not good enough for the little straight A, fuckin’ teacher of the goddamn year?!” Lee scoffed, his brows narrowed slightly. He looked genuinely hurt by her rushed response. 

“You’re fucking married, Lee!” Y/N yelled at him, eyes wide, “Why the fuck would I ever agree to someone asking if we’re dating, idiot?!” 

“Oh, don’t you start callin’ me fuckin’ names now, missy!” Lee pointed an accusing finger at her, scrunching his face up the way he does when he’s upset about something. 

“Right. Okay um, it seems like you two have a lot to work out and I really don’t care to hear the rest of this conversation because you’re both fucking stupid and I don’t care about either of you.” Neal ranted awkwardly before walking towards Belinda’s steps.

Y/N and Lee rolled their eyes at each other, following after Neal. 

“Oh..there’s no fucking way we’re breaking in here!” Y/N scolded, giving Lee a disapproving look. 

Lee shrugged, shooing Neal towards the door. 

Neal popped off his tie, wrapped it around his hand, and busted open one of the windows on the back door before sticking his hand through to pop the lock. 

“Jesus Christ,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. She pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh, “what are y’all getting me into?” 

“Oh shush.” Lee scolded, waltzing into Belinda’s house behind Neal. 

Y/N followed close behind. “Lee, we should not be doing this. You’re smarter than this.” 

Lee stopped and turned around to give her a cold gaze. “Am I, Y/N? Hm?” He challenged, walking towards her dangerously slow, “You don’t really know me all that well, do you?” He smirked, standing so close to her she could feel his breath fanning her face. 

Y/N gulped, trembling slightly as she peered up at him. “Stop it,” She said quietly, looking away from him, “You always fucking tease me and it’s not fucking fair, Lee, jesus.” She snapped, immediately turning and walking back out the door. 

Lee chased after her, grabbing her by her elbow. “Hey now. What's the matter with you?! Where the fuck are you going?” 

“Back to my fucking job, Lee. I am not doing this. Belinda hasn’t done shit to me. Look…I love you, Lee, I really do. You’re my best friend but this job is my fucking life. But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Because you’ve got fucking everything. You’re married, you’ve got a beautiful home, a nice car.” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She was overwhelmed with her feelings. His teasing usually never bothered her but today...today was different for some reason. She just couldn't go through with this any longer. “I understand why you’re doing this..and I want to help you, Lee, believe me, I do. But I can’t lose this job.” Y/N finally looked up at him, almost taken aback by the sincere look on his face. 

“Go,” He said, softly, “I’ll meet you back at the school..okay? For lunch. Like always.” Lee held out his pinky. It was their tradition to link pinkies when making plans as a promise to not let each other down. 

Y/N nodded, curling her smaller pinky around his larger one. “Like always.” She pulled her hand away, starting her journey back to the school on foot. It wasn’t far, she wouldn’t have any trouble getting there but leaving Lee behind like that when he had been counting on her to help him really broke her heart. But she couldn’t lose this job. It was all she had that kept her connected to Lee and she’d be the first to go if anyone found out about this scheme. She couldn’t risk it - couldn’t risk her livelihood and her job. Lee was everything to her. Everything. Lee was and always will be her livelihood. 

-----------

Back at Belinda’s, Lee walked back into the house with a determined look on his face, now upset that his one and only friend bailed on him. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” Neal said while scanning the wall of Belinda’s photos.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, Gamby?” Lee said pissily, narrowing his brows at him. 

“That girl loves you..and you’re just blind to it..I’m not good with women but you shouldn’t use her the way you do.” Neal shrugged. 

“Shut the fuck up, you ass face, you have no fucking idea what you’re even talkin’ about.” Lee scoffed, stomping off up the stairs of Belinda’s house. 

That couldn’t be right, could it? Could you really love him in that way? 

‘No,’ Lee thought, shaking his head, ‘There’s no way…right?’ 

Right? 

--

tag list: @one-of-thewalkingdead @itsyellow @ajeff855 @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @casiaregina @dried-mushroom @justme12200 @wtfwhyanyway @sequoiassoul @saturnbourne @ryankaylamartin96 @avidreadee123 @theweirdoneee @saltysultry @radskull-69 @deviantgamergirl @caligrl1992 @littlenosoul @sir-henry-may @spatialwave

#lee russell #walton goggins #lee russell x reader #hbo vice principals #vice principals #vice principals x reader #hbo max #neal gamby

[thefallennightmare]

For headcannon can you do Noah with his gf surprise pregnancy where she is keeping it from him cause she is terrified and he is touring... well let's say he is worried cause you're sick as a dog.

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion

"Angel, what's going on?" Noah's worried voice came through your phone's speaker.

Along with his frown on your screen.

The two of you were Facetiming, him on tour and you back home.

"I'm fine," you sighed while pulling the blanket closer to your chin.

You weren't.

You felt sick and spent all morning bent over the toilet. Now you were cuddled up in bed underneath the blankets.

"You don't look fine, Y/N. You're pale," he adjusted his phone to get a better look at you.

He was lounging on the couch of the tour bus and you briefly saw Jolly sitting next to him, who peaked his head in the view of Noah's phone.

"Yeah, Y/N, you don't look so good," Jolly noted.

"It's food poisoning," you lied.

It wasn't.

You knew exactly what was wrong with you.

The positive pregnancy test resting on the end table next to you gave you the answer.

You'd known for a week now but didn't want to tell Noah while he was on the road.

You were nervous as hell because the two of you had been dating for less than a year and Bad Omens were just rising to popularity. The last thing he needed was a baby.

The two of you never talked about kids or even marriage. But you two did talk about wanting to slowly build a life together in due time.

You knew he deserved to know, this was a big secret to keep from Noah.

But he just started his three-week-long tour and you hated keeping secrets from him.

Not to mention, he always could tell when you weren't being truthful.

"Angel," Noah warned. "Your lip is twitching."

You quickly covered the quirk that gave way to your lies. "No, it's not."

But with his intense eyes through the phone screen, you knew he wouldn't let up.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you reached over to grab the test, still keeping it out of view.

"I wanted to tell you when you came back because I didn't want you to be sitting on this without me there."

"You're scaring me," he chuckled low, trying to keep his nerves at bay.

With shaking hands, you held up the positive pregnancy test in the view of your phone's camera.

Noah's eyes scrunched to get a better look at it but then they went wide with realization.

"Is that-?"

"I'm pregnant."

Silence was all you heard for a few long beats, Noah's face like stone.

"Oh shit," you heard someone muttered on his end.

Then a smile broke wide on his lips, showcasing his bright teeth and the tight grip on your heart loosened.

"We're going to have a baby?" He asked before blowing out a shaky breath.

You nodded. "Yeah. You're not mad?"

His brows furrowed. "Why would I be mad, angel?"

You adjusted the position of your phone while lying back in bed. "We never talked about kids before. And Bad Omens is just starting to rise, I don't want anything to hold you back."

"Y/N," Noah's voice was stern. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Our baby will not hold me back."

"I love you," you smiled, feeling way lighter than you did before this phone call.

"I love you too, angel. When I get back home, we'll celebrate."

While he was on the road, he sent you countless ideas for baby names and Pinterest board ideas of ways to decorate the nursery.

Two and a half weeks later, Noah returned home and immediately gathered you in his arms to lay a kiss on your lips.

Once you were set back on the ground, his hands rested on your stomach and had a faint smile on his face.

"Hi baby," he cooed. "I'm your dad."

#tina talks #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian headcannons

[erwinsvow]

have you ever written something where shy reader is too anxious to tell someone they got her order wrong or tell the lady at the nail salon she didn’t exactly like the color/shape

no but omg this is soooo real

getting your nails done was always fun—though sometimes, you leave with something completely different than what you came in wanting.

you found it hard to speak up to anyone, your nail tech included. instead you'd nod politely and smile sweetly when they were doing your nails.

it was just nails—it didn't matter if they were a little shorter than you wanted, or if the pink was a little more bubblegum than baby. they looked pretty and you avoided someone getting upset with you—you considered it a win-win situation.

and it was beginning to work itself out—you had discovered your favorite nail lady, the one who always understood what you wanted and didn't make you nervous when you'd show her the picture you'd brought for inspiration. and going today, you were expecting your appointment to be with her—like always.

until you found out she was home sick. normally you'd wait—but you were at the salon today specially since you were going to a party with rafe tonight, and the idea of going with your bare and currently very ugly nails seemed completely out of the question.

and even worse—rafe had brought you. you didn't want to turn to him and tell him to take you back home, not when he'd driven you all the way here and agreed to sit with you even though you're sure he doesn't want to.

so you suck it up—you show the new tech your photo, a pretty pink and white french tip with some bows and flowers, and hope for the best. she's doing fine, it looks like the picture for the most part.. except your nails are looking more square than round, and it's a little too long for your taste. she's about to start painting, telling you to go wash your hands.

you get up, heart thudding uncomfortably. you hate this about yourself—hate it worse than anyone else could. the nail lady couldn't care less if you ask for them shorter and rounder, but you can't bring yourself to do it. instead you stare down at your nails in the sink and feel like you might start crying.

rafe has a sixth sense—he can always tell when you're feeling upset. you don't know how he does it, just that he does.

all he had noticed was that you had stopped smiling back at him every few minutes about half way into the second hand getting done—and then just now, when you got up, you didn't look at him on your way to the sink.

rafe follows you there, a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. he's got a candy in his mouth, plucked from the bowl they keep near the entrance.

"what's wrong?" he comes out a little raspy, his tongue red.

"nothing," you reply, too quickly. you look up at him with your watery eyes, trying your hardest not to cry.

"c'mon, kid. what is it? someone say something?" he asks, turning around to where you were sitting and the two techs in the vicinity.

"no, no. nothing. it's just-" again, you hate this. you don't know why it's so hard to find the words, why they just don't want to come out. you swallow it down.

"what? you gotta tell me if you want me to help," he says, quieter, leaning in a little. you feel better immediately when he says it, but you still can't look up at him. you stare down at the too-long, too-square acrylics.

"it's not.. exactly what i wanted. i don't know how to tell them. i don't want them to be upset-"

"is that it?" rafe asks, and you look up quickly, eyes getting teary again. is he mad at you too now? your expression gives you away, lips turning into a sad pout. "baby, she doesn't care. they get paid either way. gotta ask for what you want."

"but i don't want her to-"

"s'okay. i'll tell her. c'mon. don't cry, it's fine."

you follow rafe back—cheeks burning with embarassmnet. bad enough that you can't ever speak up for yourself, now rafe is involved and he probably thinks you're some kind of child-

"stop overthinkin'. it's easy for me to tell her, it's harder for you. so i'll tell her, okay?" looking up at your boyfriend, your ears ring a little. you hear him talk to your tech—you see his mouth moving, maybe making out shorter and she likes round, okay?

you can't hear anything, it feels like there's music in your ears. the tech nods and smiles at you, fixing them and before your very eyes, your nails look exactly how you wanted them to. rafe pulls his chair closer to yours, a hand on your knee.

his words keep repeating in your head—stop overthinking. and like always, you listen to rafe.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

There's a snake in my pants - K.MG

🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader 🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu] 🤠Word count; 2.3k 🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖 And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖

Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.

As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.

So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.

When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back. A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.

Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns. You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.

All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.

"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.

Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along. "Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.

He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip. "I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."

"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.

"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.

"Sounds serious."

"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste. "Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"

"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body. "Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"

"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.

"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."

"That I do, ma'am."

"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"

"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."

"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.

"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.

"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"

"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.

"Okay, give it to me."

"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.

"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.

Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips. "There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.

"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.

"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"

"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"

"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.

"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."

"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.

"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."

"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"

"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town. So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"

"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.

"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"

"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"

Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises. Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way. And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.

"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."

"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story. "Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.

He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.

While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.

Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom. "Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you. There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again. And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.

There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.

Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.

The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.

It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.

It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.

Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.

Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.

"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek. "Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"

Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."

"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."

"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made. And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.

Yeah, he really is it for you.

A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.

#wkcnet #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen crack #svt fluff #svt crack #svt fic #seventeen mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu fluff #seventeen mingyu crack #seventeen mingyu fic #svt mingyu x reader

[hunterofartemis7]

Pt.3

Damian: *sits on their bed* so, what did you need to speak about?

Raven: *makes the room sound proof* I told Alfred about the baby

Damian: why?

Raven: I was feeling sick and it kinda slipped out. But he promised to keep it a secret

Damian: I’m not worried about Pennyworth keeping his mouth shut. He’s proven he can keep a secret

Raven: and your siblings can’t?

Damian: beloved they will spill that information the first chance they get.

Raven: and why is that bad exactly? I know we agreed not to say anything yet but…I don’t like lying to my friends

Damian: cause I don’t want the public to know yet, and as soon as we tell the others, they will fuck up and let it slip that your pregnant

Raven: who cares if the public knows!

Damian: I feel you forgot who my family is. This will be the first grandchild of Bruce Wayne and my siblings first niece or nephew, the news will lose their shit when they hear about it. Remember how they reacted to finding out we were dating

Raven:…yeah..we couldn’t get a moment’s peace

Damian: exactly. And not that I care, but the amount of people who will have an issue with us having a baby out of wedlock will be very overwhelming for you.

Raven: why would they care? It doesn’t affect them.

Damian: some people just suck like that beloved

Raven: so what happens when I start showing?

Damian: than well announce it, but I’d like to avoid the chaos as long as possible

Raven:……😞😣 *tears up*

Damian: Beloved? *gets up and hugs her close* what’s wrong?

Raven: i wanna tell Kori..😖 *crying into his chest*

Damian: *rubs her back* *feels like a jackass for making her upset*

*outside the room*

Tim: ya hear anything?

Dick: nope

Jason: wait hang on…….i think I can hear crying?

Tim: Crying? Like Damian or Raven crying?

Jason: Raven obviously. You know the demon don’t cry

Dick: why do you think she’s crying?

Tim: maybe they broke up?

Jason: hell no

Tim: you gotta better idea?

Jason:….……Damian broke something of hers

Dick: as if. That would never happen

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #robin damian #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #pregnancy

[klmp11s]

Hello! Hope your requests are on! I was hoping you'll do my request (M reader)

First years where they were having a ruckus and broke one of the reader's favorite and proudest paintings (ripped and wood broken in pieces) COUGHACECOUGH. They tried to hide it but sadly they had to show it. Reader tries not to show any hard feelings against them because it's an accident but they were really devastated because their hard work was basically thrown out of the window but they try not to show their sadness to a painting! It's a painting, it doesn't matter at all obviously! They've been spacing out and their mood is slightly down because of it but yk they try not to show it :3

HELLO BB, SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT SO LONG 😭😭I loved this request so much.(English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Summary: The first-year students accidentally broke a reader's painting Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt Warning: male!reader, slight hurt/comfort? I'm not sure, it's mostly soft, ooc(?), (the boys themselves draw a painting for you)

Ace Trappola

Lmao this request was totally for him He is literally sure that now you will not talk to him. The moment when he broke the picture: his heart stopped for a moment and he just looks at WHAT EXACTLY broke with the thoughts that firstly, he will be killed, and secondly, he will kill himself, when he sees your upset face When instead of swearing and arguing, you just quietly say something like “it's just a painting, Ace, it doesn't matter.” He definitely feels worse than if you yelled and kicked him out. He definitely doesn’t believe everything you say like “it’s okay/you can go, I’ll clean everything up/don’t worry so much.” He sees how your hands are shaking, you know? He cleans everything himself. Seriously: boy won't even let you touch the broken frame. After that, he almost runs to his dorm to ask what he should do. Like, he just broke that thing that you kept so carefully and admiringly told and showed him how to make amends? They literally give him a plan with point by point advice so that he doesn’t ruin anything. 1. Bring you a gift to replace what he broke. He definitely wasn't thrilled with the idea of painting you a picture with his own hands, but it would still be fair. Effort for effort, understand? 2. Apologies. From the bottom of his heart, with words through his mouth, so that you can see and HEAR that he is very sorry and he really didn’t want this to happen. 3. Don't put pressure on you. Give you time and not pry into your personal space, you need to think about everything, right? 4. Next comes action based on the situation. No matter how crookedly he got it, he definitely painted you a picture from the bottom of his heart. Well, now you just need to apologize, right? … Okay, this is a lot more complicated than he thought. What should he say? “please forgive me for breaking your most beloved, dear, beautiful painting that you spent many hours on, I’m very sorry”? He doesn’t know at all how to choose the words to make it right. As a result, he decides that the apology can be sorted out as the situation progresses. Literally as soon as he crosses your threshold, RIVERS of words and sentences flow from his mouth. With one hand he pulls the picture towards you, and the other frantically waves it in different directions. You can literally hear him begin to choke while he non-stop tries to apologize to you. Eventually, he stops talking and holds out his hand with the painting and looks at you. The longer the silence lasts, the more he thinks he did something wrong. Maybe you didn’t want to see him, but he almost burst into your room? Could it be something even worse? Then he hears you quietly giggling. Okay, super, great, that's a good sign. His eyes are glued to your face and he sees how you look at his “painting” that he painted for you. It's not so bad, you're even surprised. Okay, maybe art from the heart really does matter. You carefully walk past Ace and he watches as you carefully hang his painting in the place where your painting previously hung. Okay, OKAY THAT'S definitely a VERY good sign. Okay, now he sees your sly look and understands that now he will have to explain himself about the new love language. And perhaps someday in the future he will receive one painting especially for him?

Deuce Spade

Please, he's so sweet, I'm sure he caused a cauldron that accidentally flew into the wall. 😭 But now, he is literally in PANIC when he sees that it is not a vase or something else that has broken, but YOUR FAVORITE PAINTING I'm not sure he would try to hide it because he would literally try to put the pieces and pieces of the painting back together while looking like a panicked puppy The moment he sees you, he will begin to apologize, cling to your sleeves and ASK TO FORGIVE HIM because he didn’t do it on purpose, really. Afterwards, when your face turns from confusion to slight grief, he realizes that everything is VERY BAD When he is already returning to the room, he calls his mother to find out what to do. He has absolutely no idea how to improve the situation. Even if his mother jokingly says to paint a painting for you, he takes it seriously. It will be fair! He will definitely need a few days and advice from older students, I think this is his first experience in something so creative. Especially if the painting is for you. He loves you, he is sorry that this happened and he wants you to not be sad anymore, understood? At the same moment when he finishes the picture, he almost runs towards you. Does the paint take some time to dry? Well, they'll dry while he's running, lol. You are sitting in your room sad because of him, so he should bring a smile to your face as soon as possible! (He didn't hurt it, really. He is very careful with what he does for you.) When you open the door to let him in, the first thing you see is the canvas he holds out to you. Unusual? Unusual. His apology is quiet. Of course, there are many of them and they are really sincere, that he tries not to ruin the moment and speaks quietly. When he sees your soft gaze focused on the painting, he becomes silent and looks at you. He was never an artist, but what he did for you is priceless. You look from the painting to the empty wall, and say that his idea to fill the void is quite good. You decide to give the painting time to dry, carefully leaving it horizontal. Well, now all your attention is focused on Deuce, you still have to talk to him, right? By the time he leaves your room, the painting is almost dry. (I'm sure he will also hang it on the wall himself. It was his fault that it fell, and it was his initiative that it will hang.)

Jack Howl

I can't even imagine how this happened A second, the picture is already on the floor and he is completely confused. Afterwards he sees the reason for the loud sound and he LITERALLY: 😦😧😨 Okay, he definitely, like Deuce, will try to collect all the pieces so that you don’t accidentally get hurt, but there’s literally a crisis going on in his head. He accidentally broke something you've been working on for just over a month, it's a disaster. At the moment he is ALREADY thinking about how he should apologize to you. As soon as he sees you and your sad eyes, his ears literally press to his head. To all his apologies you respond “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. It's okay, it's nothing more than just a painting." Well, now he is more than sure that he needs something more than a verbal apology. The first thing that came to his mind: something that he himself would treasure, at that same second an idea comes to him: Make something for you that is equivalent to what was broken. Jack knows he's not an artist or anything, but for you, he's really willing to try. And after that, you will again be able to have fun with him and you will take care of the cacti in his room together! Oh. He definitely decided that it would be an apology for you. He would also ask the older students in his dorm for advice, and maybe even Vil, since he doesn't really understand art. But, I am more than sure that he is trying to paint a picture for you as neatly and pleasing to the eye as possible. The day after he finished the painting, he would pick up one of his cacti for you along with any little thing you like and head over to you. Once you let him into your room, he hands you a carefully wrapped canvas and a small patterned bag. Okay, now he's trying to find words for you. As soon as you open the package, he starts apologizing to you. Sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye you see how nervously his tail is darting and you turn your gaze from the cactus he gave him to the painting. Did he draw this himself? You hear him quiet down a little when you take the picture in your hands and looks into your face with hope. A soft smile touches your lips. And really, he tried so hard to make amends to you that he was ready to paint a painting for you himself? You hold out the canvas to him and ask him to hang it in the place where your painting previously hung. You carefully take the plant he gave you and place it nearby with your new decorative item. Did he really try that hard for you? Now, you can go somewhere together and relax, and when you return, your new favorite painting will be waiting for you.

Epel Felmier

Please, I’m not sure that in principle he could reach your painting /j But let's skip this point. Now all that was left was: him, the broken picture on the floor that you had been telling him about for a week, and panic. He is literally ready to hide all the evidence the moment he realizes that you will be broken just like your painting. When he hears your steps behind him, he is ready to be thrown out of the room and not be spoken to again. But all you told him: “Epel, it’s just canvas and paints. Tell me better, weren't you hurt? Did you accidentally cut yourself?” ok, now it would be better if you silently kicked him out of the room. He begins to apologize to you and words like “to a strong man, the fragments could hardly harm me” definitely slip into his speech. After that, he immediately headed to his dorm. Perhaps he definitely needs help. As he tells Vil his problem, he sneaks a glance at Rook, who looks like he's already aware of what happened. Okay, now all hope lies with these two, he doesn’t know how best to apologize to you. The idea about the painting was definitely suggested by Vil himself, but Rook added that he should apologize to you in detail. Not as Rook himself would have done, but approximately. Fine. There is a rough plan of action, but one problem: Epel has absolutely no idea how to paint. It looks like he will have to spend even more time with these two, but you are at stake and for your sake he is ready to spend as much time with the members of the verbal dorm as necessary The phrase “art takes time” becomes one of his least favorites. He wants to finish as soon as possible and come running to you with all the speeches he could come up with, but he has to wait until the painting dries. In the morning, when everything is finally ready, he almost knocks over a couple of students as he runs towards you. As soon as he crosses the threshold of your room, one of his hands is in yours and the other is holding out a painting to you. Well, this is the most unusual morning you could have. You, still sleepy, look at the painting in your hand and distantly hear Epel's apology. A smile touches your lips. Was he really that worried about this all this time? You remove your hand from his and ruffle his hair. HE WILL NOT LET YOU HANG THE PICTURE I'm serious. If necessary: HE IS READY TO CLIMB ON A CHAIR, TABLE, IT DOESN’T MATTER, BUT HE WILL DO IT

Sebek Zigvolt

He did this because it wasn't Malleus in the painting/j To be honest, I don't even know how this could happen. Most likely, he hit something, and that “something” dropped the painting… But okay, now he’s confused What fell? Oh.. OH WAIT He just dropped and broke a painting of his loved one. He would help you pick up the broken pieces and try to apologize to you. Moreover, I am sure that the apology will be quiet, in a whisper, rather than his usually loud voice. He's really sorry that this happened when you respond with something like, “It's okay. It’s just a painting” he really feels guilty. Okay, now he needs help apologizing to you properly. A true knight should not upset those he loves. And now.. His Diasomnia group is trying to help him. But I'm more than sure that Silver came up with the idea for the painting. (You can start fighting me, I'm ready.) Malleus and Lilia offered more ideas for verbal apologies, maybe even written ones, but the moment Silver woke up and listened to part of their conversation, he offered to give you a painting. Still, the painting that was dear to you was broken, so why shouldn’t he make amends by painting a new one for you himself? But even so, I think that all three helped Sebek in painting the picture. He must do it with love, right? And love is a rather fragile thing, so he shouldn’t rush so much. He could have written you a letter of apology, but I think he decided to stick with a verbal apology. When he finished the picture, I think that his Diasomnia group lastly gave him advice or some quotes for an apology 😭 The moment he entered your room, he began to ask for your forgiveness more loudly than last time. In the middle of his monologue, he handed you a picture from behind and He didn’t look at your face anymore. Yes, he painted this picture, please forgive him, but he can't look you in the eyes, he will stumble and forget what he was talking about 😭 When he hears your quiet laugh, he falls silent and watches you approach the empty wall. A couple of seconds and he understands what you want to do. Okay, honey, he's glad you forgive him, but take your hands off and let him hang the picture. He will do it himself, you understand? Afterwards, he could invite you to take a walk with him, but, of course, when he is absolutely sure that you feel better than before

The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @

#twst x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #ace trappola x male reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x male reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x male reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x male reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x male reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

[hqbaby]

five — right?

tag, ur it! — sakusa ? iwaizumi ? osamu ? 

*ੈ✩‧ love is a losing game your roommate, your ex, or the guy you totally haven’t been seeing—the choice should be simple, right? right?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.1k content. profanity, mentions of previous cheating

“Will you stop that?” Iwaizumi says, glancing up from the paper that he’s been working on for the better half of the afternoon.

You bat your eyelashes at him innocently. “Stop what?”

He glares. “That,” he tells you, pointing at the growing pile of paper balls you’ve been making, crumpling up pages of old notes and unceremoniously dropping them at your feet. “It’s distracting.”

“Tough luck, bud. It’s for school.”

“That excuse is getting old,” he says. He takes one last look at his laptop, sighs, and closes it. He looks at you expectantly. “So what’s up?”

“Why do you think something’s up?”

“Because you’re being outwardly annoying,” Iwaizumi tells you, “Which isn’t particularly strange, but you’ve got this nervous energy around you right now.”

You try to silence the voice in your head that wants to ask him, You notice those kinds of things? Because it’s stupid. Of course your roommate notices when you’re acting weird. He’s subjected to your strangeness every day.

“Have you ever had a really stupid idea?” you ask him instead.

He raises his brow and puts his laptop away, making his way to the couch and plopping into the seat beside you. “What kind of idea?”

“I won’t go into the specifics,” you say. “But it’s just really stupid. Imagine you had a really good thing going for you now and it’s great, you know? But there’s this other thing that is really bad for you that you can’t seem to let go. So you have this idea, drop the really good thing for the bad thing. Which is stupid. But you want to do it.”

“Oh, that’s totally not specific at all.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I need help here,” you say. “What would you do?”

He considers it for a moment. “How badly do you want the bad thing?”

“Really badly.”

There isn’t a hint of hesitation in your voice and it makes you want to hurl. After everything that’s happened, you’re exactly where you were before. It feels pathetic. Disappointing if nothing else.

And yet you don’t expect the next thing to come out of your roommate’s mouth. Not from Iwaizumi, the wise and kind and gentle and slightly aggressive but overall smart, good guy.

“Then fuck it,” he says, as if he were giving you his blessing. “Go for it. At some point, you can’t keep denying your feelings. They’ll blow up in your face eventually.”

You gape at him. “I can’t believe you just told me to fuck it.”

He grins, all teeth and sunshine. “Fuck it.”

Of course when Iwaizumi told you to fuck it, he had no idea that it meant you were going to show up here. At a coffee shop. Waiting for Osamu, the guy all your friends have told you to clearly stay away from.

When you see him, you notice that he looks a little different. Not much has changed, you’ve only been a part for a few months, but time has its way of making the past seem more distant than it is.

“Hey,” he says as he approaches you. His breath catches when you stand and he sees you, clearly surprised by how much you’ve changed too. “You look… great.”

You offer him a curt nod. Despite just how much you want this, to see him again, there’s something that’s physically holding you back. Reminding you of what Osamu did, what he made you go through.

“Thanks,” you say. “You wanna sit?”

If he’s put off by your slight coldness, he doesn’t show it. He sits in the chair across from yours as you fall back into your seat.

“How have you been?” he asks.

It’s so polite. So unbothered. You hate it.

“Fine,” you tell him. “How’s Maya?”

You see him recoil at the name, his lips twisting into a frown as he curls into himself ever so slightly. It’s stupid just how much you still know him, how you know how to push his buttons in just the right way.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I haven’t seen her since…”

And there it is. The unspeakable. The thing you’ve poked and prodded at. Alluded to in conversations with your friends. Hidden deep in the back of your throat.

“Since you fucked her.”

He shakes his head and leans forward, spreading his hands on the table as he looks you straight in the eye. “I told you,” he says, “It was a mistake.”

“You still did it.”

The truth is sour on your tongue. You’ve had this conversation with him before, hurled your righteous accusations at him as he tried to explain that it wasn’t anything, that it didn’t matter. What a fucking idiot.

“What did you wanna talk about?” you ask. The scales have tilted in your favor. You have the upperhand here. “What do you want from me?”

Osamu’s eyes flicker from remorseful to regretful to penitent. “Give me a chance,” he says. “I fucked up, I know I did. But I can’t keep doing this. I look for you everywhere I go. I stay up at night wondering when you’ll call. But you’re so distant, you avoid me every chance you get.”

You scoff. “Do you blame me for that?”

“No.” He looks down. “But I want you to give me a chance. I know it’s a long shot, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

The stronger, more sensible part of you wants to walk away. Maybe slap him in the face, throw your water at him to make yourself feel better. Anything, as long as you leave. As long as you don’t look back.

But there’s still the part of you that stays. The one that goes to places you know he’ll be just to see if he’s doing fine. That wants to ask his brother how his finals went. That wants to forgive him right then and there, rush back into his arms, make everything alright.

So you compromise with yourself. You say, “Then win me back.”

You can tell that isn’t the answer that he was expecting. As much as you know him, he knows you too. He never expected you to bend, and while you haven’t fully done so just yet, you’ve given him an inch.

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile.

“Deal,” he says, smiling now. “You won’t regret this.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the bright look on his face. The way he lights up at the prospect of having you again. In the end, you always knew just how much you meant to him. In the end, you always knew just how much he meant to you.

“Oh, I have a feeling I will,” you tell him. “But, well, you know… Fuck it, right?”

notes. i too would be weak for osamu no matter what he's done to me 🙂‍↕️

#hqbaby.tag ur it! #hqbaby #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa x reader #miya osamu #osamu #osamu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

The Renegade

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean. You are my only hope, The renegade - Your parents ask you to try seeing a therapist, Tess, and you agree under one condition: she can't let you fall in love with Joel Miller. A fic in the format of letters, from you to Tess. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | next chapter

CW/tags: Explict +18, no outbreak AU, slow burn, fluff, smut, kinda loser reader? lol, implied age gap, coming of age, no use of y/n

Word count of the prologue + chapter 1: 6,4k

A/N: This will be a quick fic, I promise! I needed to take it off my head, it was clogging everything else at this point lol I really wanted an anti-hero protagonist instead of the usual good girls I write. She is messy and adorable at the same time, I'm really proud of how the story is taking shape! Hope you like it!

PROLOGUE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

You said I could write you in any format as long I’m true to what I’m putting out. That’s some therapist bullshit, but since it’s you reading this mess, I will let it slide. I thought a lot about what to write down for you, not the usual overthinking, more of a “where do I begin?”. Remember, you were the one who told me to write this if I can’t say out loud what it is inside my head while we are in session. This shit is hard, okay?

Let me start by being the smartpants I used to be: the human brain processes a thought faster than one meter per second. If I put together all the meters my brain ran while getting bad ideas, I could now cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to avoid certain people? That strange feeling you get when you see a trainwreck of a person, the one that didn’t exactly do something bad, they just are stuck somewhere out of this reality and you think to yourself “I would never get in that position”? 

I did get in that position. I’m stuck in that somewhere. For years now.

Wish I could tell you that something horrible happened to me when I was younger, that my mother crushed all my dreams and my dad left one day to buy a pack of cigarettes. What about a strict family or an over-the-top religious one where I’m one of ten kids? Not even close to the truth, I’m an only daughter.

Middle middle class: enough money to live more than comfortably, far from the luscious lifestyle of the riches. I grew up knowing money didn’t come from the trees, I touched some grass, okay? The only thing expected by my kinda-aristocrat parents was that I would achieve academic success prior to a life full of achievements.

Chess competitions, spelling bee trophies (if I make a mistake a few pages down, it’s been a while since it), debate club captain, swimming team… You name it and I did. At seventeen I was voted as “most likely to be successful” and second place for homecoming queen because slutty Katie gave the basketball team a sloppy blowjob after practice. I had a first kiss and gave one bad handjob under the bleachers by that age.

Then university came and nobody, no fucking body, got wowed when I got an Ivy League on my first try. My head was too shoved up my ass to notice life around me. I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore because girls in my class were prettier than me, wasn’t the smartest since I wasn’t a teacher’s pet by just existing. 

My classmates didn’t care for me because I had no clue about social etiquette: what alcohol is acceptable to bring to a frat party? How do you pick up guys and let them suck on your tongue? Do you stay inside your dorm room when your roommate is fucking or do you wait outside?

I could do it with being the awkward girl, but not with being less than perfect. By the second semester, I was crying every day in the shower and realized I had no friends, just people who had the same interests as me back home. I tried so hard to become the number one in my class that life became hell the second my teacher gave me a lower score on a significant test.

I left her class and instead of crying, calling my parents to vent, or any other shit, I walked by the first frat house I saw and decided to lose my v card there with any guy that looked remotely cute. 

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be a slut if I hadn’t had a penis inside me yet, but I knew that something was boiling up for years. My hand sneaking under my panties after a tiring day, humping on my pillow whenever I got frustrated, even the shoulder massager I got for after swimming practice humming on my clit did it. All I needed was a chance to forget for a moment the hell that was my life.

And I did. A sand blond guy with a shark smile that would fuck anything that moved in his direction, clearly a rich bitch whose parents got his spot in the university. I walked in his direction and took my panties off, put them in his hand, and the next thing I saw he was deep inside of me while I hopped him vigorously.

I cummed so hard that I think saw Jesus, whatever he might be. Not that the guy made me cum, I had an itch for so long that any scratch would do it. Any. After coming down my high it was clear in my mind: I would do anything that I didn’t do before.

Drink until pass out, rob beer from the liquor store, fuck my roommate's hot dad, cheat on a test. Nothing was out of limits. Well, I still had to finish university and never use drugs because that was a hard no for me.

You see, Tess, I’m so good at keeping my promises to other people and ignoring my own needs that I did finish university. Graduated with an honor badge and everything, my parents' wet dream. Expect they no longer knew me and had no clue that I spent four years whoring myself and doing everything to ignore who I used to be.

And this is why on my first day in a big company, a trainee job earned right after college, I vomited inside the bathroom stall during onboarding. A panic attack a week later when my leader delegated some tasks. You give me a few months and my mind went blank the second I started a presentation to the c level board. I ran so fast outside that I fell on the sidewalk, got up, called for a cab, and never came back.

It’s been years since it.

My parents came to you because they still have some hope. I don’t, I think they are being dumb. Yes, I have an Ivy League degree, a bunch of useless skills (except for Mandarin, I can read so fast the menu at a Chinese restaurant) but nothing to do with when I WON’T come back to who I used to be. Do you think I sound miserable now? I’m miserable but I’m free in my kitchenette downtown, with my band t-shirts and two jobs. Living the dream.

Of course I’m fucking lying to you. I hate my life because the bitch running it is so dumb (that’s me, by the way).

It used to be kinda cool. The day I ran from the office was the same day I went straight to the arcade and played Mortal Kombat II so much that I broke the machine’s record. I went there for a full week before the manager, an emo guy looking like a teenager, decided to hire me.

It wasn’t enough to pay for my fancy downtown apartment, the one that got furniture that didn’t come from IKEA, so I had to move to the shithole I’m now. A mini studio in a building so old that if the city trembles, I’m sure that I will be turning into dust.

Years in this life, day after day, and I wasn’t mad about it. I was free, after all. It took about two years for my parents to find out that I wasn’t the prodigious child anymore and they took better than I expected. My mom cried, cursed my name, and asked if someone hurt me but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was the one who caused it.

Anyway, you already know this stuff. They told you their side of the story when letting you know that I would be your new patient. What exactly have they told you? About how I never introduced them to a guy and my dad had a very straightforward conversation with me about why lesbians were cool and he would accept me if I was one? Maybe they told you about how I got so drunk one Christmas that end up peeing on the petunias in the neighbor’s yard and my mom thought it was a good idea to tell them I was heavily sedated from a fear of flying? Nobody said it was easy to be an only child.

What you don’t know is that I have a love life, you are welcome. For years I’ve been sleeping around with a married man. I know, I know, shocking! Scandalous! His name is Peter and he is dumb as a door. But the dick is good and he sometimes treats me like a real person. I met him at a bar, gave him a blowjob in the back alley (Katie would be proud) and we see each other every week since.

Remember when I said my family isn’t religious? Thank god because that’s not everything. I have a boyfriend, a real one. It was a scorching day, the AC wasn’t working and I had to put the neckline out a bit before becoming a puddle. That’s when I see him, playing with his friends, having fun, being so fucking broad and handsome… I had to taste it.

Flirted a bit and boom, got him at the back door pumping deep inside of me while I was sitting on a desk. He was amazing, he was making me gooey to the point of screaming in pleasure. Too good to be true, when he was about to come I saw the little golden cross pending from his neck.

The next day he came back, told me how sorry he was, and asked me for an opportunity to show me how good he could be. I thought he wanted a second round, but nope, he wanted me to meet Jesus. I’m a people pleaser, Tess. It has been four months since I’m Mormon Isaac’s girlfriend. Every Sunday I attend the mess, his family knows me and I haven’t slept with him since that first day. It marks also the four months I’m trying to break up with him.

You must think that I ain’t a good person and you are right, I’m not. Not the worst, but for sure not a fucking saint. I don’t come back in my decisions, anyone else with less brain would, but not me. I’m stubborn and deal with the hell I made of my own life. Or used to, because now I’m head over heels for this guy, Tess.

Joel Miller. The stupid hunk who is older, wiser, and hot. Who I can’t stop thinking about since we met. Damn his pretty brown eyes and how they look into my soul. I’m a mess and I need some help dealing with it before he gets into my trap and I destroy him.

This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean.

You are my only hope,

The renegade

P.S. I won’t pay you shit, hope my parents paid you enough for this.

CHAPTER ONE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

Yes, I'm doing well, thank you for your concern, guess the rambling in my last letter got you worried about me. It’s a skill, I’m very good at making people worry. I'm marvelous, splendid, and well, fucked. By our last session, you asked me more details of how I ended up meeting Joel and I said to you “a lady never tells” and you didn't laugh, tough crowd. Let me paint you a picture then.

There are many regulars at the arcade. The asians dudes that go there after Kumon (been there, done that, I feel so sorry for them), the lone wolves of 40+ that still want to feel young since they can't get any pussy and, my favorites, the after-school reruns.

These little fuckers go there every week to burn some steam from their sugary-inflicted bodies, stay until 4 pm and go straight to their houses, to their mom and dad. I'm not bitter, I just hate teenagers.

I'm aware that it sounds like I'm on the wrong career path since they keep my economy going, but fuck it, teenagers give me the creeps. Except for the queers, they are quite nice. I have a baby lesbian (it’s pretty obvious) that I call 3 pm because she comes by this time twice a week, Ellie.

She is probably fifteen or so and everything I wasn't at her age. Firecracker, bossy with a dirty mouth – did I ever tell you that the first time I said “fuck” in front of my parents was after my meltdown? You can get it. One of the only teenagers I got close to if I'm honest. She came by one afternoon, saw Mortal Kombat II, and hasn't left since.

“Who's The Renegade?” She asked me one time, checking out the scoreboard with disgust. Remember I beat the machine record? She was right after me.

“No clue, try harder.” I teased her thinking she wouldn't care and move on with her life, like people do.

But not Ellie, she tried really hard to break the fucking record. Week after week, I watched her trying her best from my glass display while wearing the ugly bowling striped shirt that is my uniform.

I saw him way before he saw me. Doing my regular afternoon routine, cleaning the games with some rubbing alcohol to avoid the sticky hands infecting everywhere, minding my business under the neon light. All good, until I saw broad shoulders (I have a type, okay? Sue me) playing the fucking Mortal Kombat II with Ellie by his side.

Broad, so fucking broad. Dark curls with some gray here and there adorning his ears. I must have made some noise because for a second he looked back and that nose? Yeah, that was the end of me.

“You were close, old man,” Ellie teased as the fight on screen got to an end. He glared at her before looking at his score. “Nah, you're full of shit. Not even close to me or The Renegade.”

“Yeah, if I was spending that much time here I would be second place too,” he groaned before gaining full height. That voice gave me chills as I pretended I haven't heard shit, trying to not sneak a look and failing every time.

And that was it, Tess. Not exactly your meet cute, sorry. He came back maybe three or four times, always polite, nothing else. I thought it would be a silent crush, a small one until I got bored. I’m constantly bored.

My second job is a little less orthodox, if you can call my first one that. A girl has to do what she has to to get that bag. On Christmas, I’m the Santa helper with a mini skirt and sweet smiles (you can imagine how many times I picked up bored dads like that), by Easter, I’m your lucky bunny hopping around in white hot pants, when Thanksgiving is around the corner I’m the sluttiest turkey you ever saw. 

The mall manager pays me double because I let him once see my boobs and the poor guy is so lonely that he is more than sure that we will sleep together at some point.

“A vest with “can I help you?” tagline? Where is the skanky clothes?” I asked him one Saturday morning, thinking he made a mistake giving me the day costume.

“We’re getting more boomers and older visitors, we need someone to stay in a good floor spot and answer their questions,” he told me in a boring tone, the sadness in his eyes always a classic.

“Okay, if they ask me questions, what do I do? I don’t know shit about this mall except that you can buy powder by the public telephones and shouldn’t use the ladies bathroom on the second floor, that’s where Nora from Chipotle goes and that woman’s ass is rancid.” He furrowed his brows and dragged his hand on his face, taking his time to process what I had just said.

“Just be nice and bring them to someone who will be helpful, maybe a security guard, I don’t know. And don’t use cocaine while on the job, I can’t deal with another junkie here,” he said reinforcing the vest on my hands and urging me to get out of the room.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I don’t use drugs, never did. I might be many things in this life, but not a stoner. Not because I’m prudish or think drugs are bad for you, even if they are. I’m way too afraid about getting hooked once I realize that the play-pretend reality that they induce in your brain is better than this one. I’m self-destructive, but not stupid.

So there I was, in my lime neon vest, above a small platform with a big dark blue “information” written. Thinking about anything you can imagine, my shift lasts six hours and I can’t sit down, just a fifteen-minute bathroom break. One of my worst nightmares is to be alone with the dumb bitch inside my head, that’s why I hate silence.

When was the last time you went to a mall? They used to be a big deal in my younger days, but now they are dead. It’s so fucking slow, just little packs of people here and there. Not even music playing to alleviate the tension between me and my stupid brain.

“Miss?” A small voice called, I looked to the sides and saw nobody,  so they insisted. “Miss?”

I looked down on the platform and to my surprise, a toddler with big brown eyes and curly hair was calling me. Hesitating for a second, I climbed down my platform and crouched to get my eyes the same height as his, I read once that kids get more comfortable like that.

“Hm, yeah?” I asked unsure of how one talks with kids, shouldn’t he be there with an adult?

“I can’t find my uncle,” the poor kid was on the verge of tears, making me panic.

“Okay, let’s find him,” I said with very little confidence, unsure how to approach it.

Before I could think about what I would do, his hand found a place in mine, holding me like an anchor. I decided to go to the nearest security guard and hope for the best, one thing was to be a failure by myself and another was to fail a little kid.

We walked for about five minutes, the fucking mall had a small amount of guards. No fucking clue why nobody comes down there. The kid got a little tired of walking and held up his little arms, asking to be picked up.

I accepted it, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Thinking about it now, as I write this to you, I can’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. We might need to talk about it in session.

“You tell me if you see him, okay? What does your uncle look like?” I asked still walking down the corridor, searching for the damn guard.

“Big, fluffy hair,” I laughed at how wholeheartedly the kid tried to answer it.

“Blue eyes? Dark hair?” He shook his head for the first one but nodded at the second.

Changing corridor, I saw from afar a big guy and a smaller figure talking with a guard and figured out it was the kid’s uncle. The man seemed agitated, speaking with his hands in the air. As I pressed my steps, the figures got more familiar. Made a signal for the kid, showing them when we were close enough and his face lightened up.

“Uncle Joel!” He shouted happily, as I put him down so he could run to the tall man.

That’s how I found out his name. Simple, discrete, direct. Jo-el. Suits him.

He immediately hugged the boy, kissing the top of his head. Ellie was at the side getting color back on her face, unshed tears in her eyes when she noticed me.

“I know you,” she started and I panicked a little. I don’t know why, I wasn’t doing anything weird, but something about breaking their bubble made me uncomfortable.

Joel looked up from his nephew’s face and furrowed his brows, not in a “who the fuck are you?” kinda way, more of a “wait, I do know you too”.

“Hm, yeah, I work at the arcade down the block,” I said in a monotone, looking into Ellie’s eyes, ignoring Joel’s.

“Are you safe? All good?” Joel asked in a soft tone, much softer than I imagined a man like him could do, to the kid.

“Yes,” the toddler replied searching for my hand again. My eyes got to the size of the moon, unaware of how to react.

“Thank you for helping him, we were about to lose our heads searching for him everywhere.” Joel gave me puppy eyes in his dearest manners and every inch of my body heated as he got up, gaining his tall size. 

A grown, big man being soft on the edges? The hottest thing I’ve seen and I fucked once Mormon Isaac.

I was ready to get back to my platform when Ellie shared stares with Joel, a language I hadn’t properly been introduced to in my formal education, but I think I can decipher:

Ellie looking straight, then bringing her eyebrows up - say something, Joel

Joel furrowing his heavy eyebrows and pouting a little, before looking towards the exit - no, let’s go home

Ellie rolling eyes and siding it in my direction real quick - she is right here, do something

Joel setting his jaw and looking directly at Ellie - I said no, let’s go home

Ellie narrowing her eyes and then nodding to the toddler - how did we got him back?

Joel glancing at his nephew, Ellie, and me before pouting a little bigger - okay, fine, you’re so annoying

Mind you I’m not a linguist in any way, I might have translated something wrong since I’m not fluent and the whole scene lasted no more than two seconds. I was highly confused when he put his hand on the toddler’s shoulder (mind you, who was still holding my hand) and cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry? It would be a pleasure having you with us,” he proposed in his most southern polite voice. I laughed a little, stupid bitch.

“That’s not… Necessary. Really. It’s okay!” I replied quickly, awkwardly trying to walk back. The kid’s hand grip got stronger.

“C’mon, stay. It’s the minimum I can do,” Joel insisted with another puppy eye.

“I used to g-get lost too, in the mall, you know? It’s okay! It’s just a full circle moment, but thank you!” I lied.

I was a prodigious child, way too smart for my age, and for sure not roaming around in a suburban mall. My parents weren’t strict, but they had a very clear vision of what was cool and what was trashy. Read in my room, go to museums and cinema exhibitions of foreign movies that I was able to watch without the subtitles? Hot and cool. Go to the mall, watch blockbuster movies, and eat a burger at the food court? Suburban and trashy. I got lost once at a library, though.

“He won’t stop giving you the puppy eye until you accept, c’mon,” Ellie replied gaining a double glare from me and Joel, who – in all truth – was still giving me puppy eyes.

“Some pizza wouldn’t hurt,” I said with an awkward lopsided smile. 

The duo stared at each other again, now that I had more familiarity with the language I think I can get better translations:

Ellie shotting up her eyebrows and inclining her head towards the front of her body - told ya, old man

Joel sighing before eyeing the food court direction - lead the way, brat

“Let’s go, Luke,” Ellie grabbed the kid’s hand from mine and started to walk.

“One sec,” I said before taking off my vest and placing it in the security guard’s hand, who looked at me puzzled. I would find a way out of trouble with the manager later on. “Okay, all good!”

“So… The arcade and the mall, you must be good with teenagers,” Joel started nodding in Ellie’s direction. He said in such a genuine matter that it took me back, not a single harsh reply in my brain.

“Not really, it’s more of a coincidence. I try to avoid them a little, though. They could shatter me with one comment.” I laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between us. He smirked a bit.

“I get it, Ellie likes to remind me that I’m no longer hip. Do people still use this word?” He asked chewing his cheek and I chuckled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe no? We are very much 20th-century material,” he smiled. 

Do I like to think it was because I hinted that I was old enough to drink, so old enough to fuck him? Yes. But I regretted it the moment that thought appeared in my head.

Don’t get me wrong Tess, even if I’m a slut I wasn’t trying to fuck Joel Miller when we got alone. It’s more of an old habit, a second skin. When I got the conclusion men were little needy bitches, I got laid often.

You pretend to be stupid and praise them on their big brain. Maybe they prefer it when you are a hopeless girl who needs a strong man to solve something that your small body can’t. Or, the classic, they just want a shy girl who has no idea of how pretty she is and is more than grateful that he is there to show her.

Men are simple creatures. The more you make yourself smaller and dumber, the more they want you. Nobody wants an opinionated woman who knows her worth, that isn’t sexy. It’s a sin being a woman who is not sexy all the time.

Something inside of me knew Joel wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was just an older guy with a life set and a family of his own, he wanted to be nice to the girl who helped his nephew.

“Your nephew is a sweet kid, very affectionate,” I said in a genuine tone, trying to clear a bit of my head.

“A good kid too, smart for his age. He will be three in a couple of days,” Joel's face lightened up talking about the toddler. I wondered if someone’s face ever got so bright thinking of me.

“Growing up fast?” I asked trying to keep up, I don’t much about raising kids except that parents feel like everything is way too fast.

“Yes, but there is a long way until he becomes a petulant teenager like Ellie,” he joked with tenderness.

“She is cool, just the right amount of sassy in her bones. Her friends too, they are well-behaved down the arcade,” I said thinking about the times I saw her with other weird teenagers there.

“Really? Good to know her friends treat her well, she needs that,” he replied quickly. I lost him for a second and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” Could I sugarcoat my curiosity a bit? Of course, but my initial awkwardness was opening space for a comfortable conversation and I’m bad at calculating risk.

“We just moved, right before the school year. I’m from Austin, but Ellie no, she is from Boston. We lived there for a few years before moving back. Is tough to be the new kid, you know.”

The soft around the edges came back. I started to wonder how I never noticed Ellie’s accent, but it made sense.

“And why did you come back? Work?” I asked, again, without thinking further. Joel scratched his scruff while pondering how much detail he would give me.

“Boston got too heavy. Bad memories, you know? She needed a fresh start and I was missing the Texas sun.” My eyes searched for a ring on his hand for the first time, but there was nothing to see. Maybe a bad divorce? A widow?

“In that case, welcome home, cowboy,” I said mimicking holding a tip of a cowboy hat to him, who smiled a bit.

When we arrived at the food court, we went straight to the only pizza option available, the fucking Pizza Hut. The mall is shitty, if you haven’t noticed it yet Tess.

Ellie ordered everyone’s pizza as if she were introducing us to a new, exotic cuisine. Joel got amused, looking at her adoringly while petting his nephew's curls. I allowed myself to imagine what if my weekends were filled with this domestic view, if I would be happy to live such a mundane life and got surprised when the response was positive.

“Will you finally tell me who The Renegade is?” Ellie joked with a hint of truth. Joel rolled his eyes in good fun.

“A lady never tells,” I winked at her and Joel grinned with a little laugh. You see Tess, when you make a joke this is how people react, not scribbling something down their therapist's notepad. Rude as fuck.

The pizza could be better, but the company was more than good. I found myself laughing at Ellie’s puns, making comments about the arcade regulars. Joel tried to make me laugh a few times too, like an old friend. I felt good, felt normal instead of the constant weight on my shoulders.

At some point during our little chit-chat, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“How did Luke get lost? You haven’t told me that.” I questioned both of them, Ellie’s cheeks got pink. Joel made a motion for her to speak.

“Joel went inside a store and asked me to wait a little with Luke, to keep an eye on him for a second while he got something. I know,” she looked into his eyes with a guilty stare, “that I must hold Luke’s hand whenever we’re in a public place. I didn’t, started to look into a window shop thinking he was by my side.”

“It’s okay, you were holding tight to his hand on our way here,” Joel assured her.

If that man couldn’t get any hotter, he didn’t hold the weight of her mistakes against her. I swear that I don’t have daddy issues, I might have a Peter Pan syndrome or shit like that, but my dad was quite nice for a stuck-up guy. I’m not comparing dads, I’m comparing how to deal with delicate hearts: in that couple of hours I got to know a little more of them, I saw how Joel didn’t hold Ellie back, tried to shape her into something he wanted. Even inside of my own body I can’t do that with myself, be this level of kind.

I think Joel got me when it crossed my mind that I could fuck up and, maybe, he would still like me. I wouldn’t be a bitch, a bad girl to him. I would be just a person who made a mistake and he would still be there. What if my main kink is to be loved?

He paid for the meal, of course, a southern gentleman. I said goodbye, hinting I would be there when Ellie decided to show up at the arcade and she replied with a “hell yeah”. They left and I sighed, so light as if I had a spa day, but nope, just a good time with nice people. I might be lonely.

In a snap of fingers, I met the mall manager who questioned me why I wasn’t at the platform. The weight of the world came back on my shoulders, I reasoned that I was tired and wanted to go home as fast as possible.

“A kid got lost and I went to help him find his family. I think the slutty outfit might be a better idea next time, this shit is too complex,” I said shrugging before flashing him again with my boobs for a few seconds.

What? I had a nice meal with a good family, but I’m still not a saint.

Anyway, life followed its course. Saw Ellie sometimes at the arcade, Joel would greet me by name whenever he was there to pick her up, all good and normal. I told you, this is not your meet-cute story.

If you are wondering, yes, I saw Mormon Isaac the next day after the missing kid incident. Holy Sunday, couldn’t skip.

I don’t have exactly a wardrobe that screams “SLUT!”, but the vibe isn’t exactly good southern mormon girl. Jesus just wasn’t my thing growing up. My parents were a little paranoid about the christians, we avoided them at all cost. I had to thrift some stuff to attend Sunday preaching with Mormon Isaac.

It was so boring, every single Sunday. Thank God the pastor would scream from time to time on his speech, the only thing waking me up. Mormon Isaac, strangely as it seems, wouldn’t try to grab me a little here and there while we were inside the church.

“Are you okay?” I asked him once when he audibly swallowed when I touched the inside of his thigh when the pastor was speaking, or whatever.

“Yes. Please, not here, sweetheart,” he urged me and I rolled my eyes.

Every. Fucking. Sunday. For. Four. Months. He would only give me a peck after church, always in front of his family, if his parents weren’t making lunch he would drive me home and that’s it.

Sometimes we would do other stuff too. He would take me to the cinema to see a movie, always under PG-13 though. I would try to jack him off and he wouldn’t allow me, I once tried to give him a blowjob and he said he was waiting for the right time. We fucked rough in the staff room and now I was a pervert, make it make some sense.

You can imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an afternoon, Mormon Isaac appeared from nowhere at the arcade.

“Guess whose four-month anniversary is today?” He asked me while holding a box. I have no idea how to pray, but I know that I prayed for every single entity in the sky for a surprise break up as a git.

“Wow, lucky me,” I said with a fake smile. If my job was boring that afternoon, it was about to become much more boring.

From the corner, I saw Ellie picking up her backpack from the floor as I opened the box. A deep voice greeted my name and I got cold.

Mormon Isaac was looking at me like he was the best boyfriend in the whole world. Joel appeared to be curious, getting close to the glass display I call my office.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he said looking at the bible in my hands. A fucking bible. Damn you, Mormon Isaac.

“She attends the Sunday preach every week,” Mormon Isaac promptly corrected with his most polite smile. I wanted to die.

“Thank you very much, I will cherish it.” I smiled back, looking into Joel’s eyes with a silent rescue request when Mormon Isaac glanced at his phone.

“See you tomorrow-,” he started and I cut it before he could finish that thought.

“For the bible study, yes. It will be a pleasure,” I said faking another smile, Joel looked so confused and amused by the whole situation. Mormon Isaac grinned so hard that I thought he was about to cum in his pants.

“That’s fantastic! I will let my mom know!” He said before grabbing his phone and walking out, leaving me and Joel behind.

I sighed and dropped my head into my arms, right at the bible. Joel's laugh, I sound I grew to adore, echoed and I glanced up from my arms.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in good fun, looking at how distressed I was.

“You do me a favor: never, I said never, open the door for a Jeovah’s witness. I accepted one preach from this mormon customer and now he plays rehab with me,” I said avoiding the fact that the said mormon was my boyfriend on the following day we would meet for a date.

“I will. Do you need an excuse for bible study?” He asked me looking somewhere behind me like he was forming a plan inside his head, both hands on my glass display while Ellie waited.

“Does it involve religion or any kind of cult?” I half-joked. Half because if hot Joel said he wanted me to go to any kind of religious ceremony I would have another panic attack and leave.

Joel looked to Ellie, who looked back at him and both nodded. This time I can’t translate, sorry, I’m still in the process of getting the language's grammatical structure.

“Tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. Surprise party. You don’t want to break the poor’s kid heart, c’mon,” Ellie said faking seriousness. Joel nodded back.

“There will be food?” Ellie confirmed. “Booze?”

“Do you like beer?” Joel asked, also in fake seriousness. Except that his death stare made me fucking wet.

“Pass me your phone so I can give you my number, text me the address,” I turned my palm up to grab the said phone, he smirked and Ellie laughed.

And this, Tess, is how I met Joel, got my little heart full of him just to let him slip into my life. What can I say? I never wanted to save a horse more than the moment he lassoed me.

I think you have more than enough material for our next session already. I will give you that yes, I speak more about what is inside my head like this. I think it might be because it feels strangely similar to submitting a paper, you know how much I love being the teacher’s pet.

Don’t forget: I can’t fall in love with this guy,

The Renegade

P.S. In case it isn’t obvious, I don’t have daddy issues. I DON’T. I know what it looks like, but I don’t have it. Don’t even try.

next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the renegade series

[picturejasper20]

Looking back the ending of Gravity Falls while thinking about endings of other series like Amphibia and The Ghost and Molly Mcgee, Weirdmageddon has a message that is underwhelming when it comes to Dipper and Mabel's relationship and Mabel's potrayal in the show.

This isn't about Mabel getting tricked by Bill. She is a 12-13 years old that in that context she was feeling really bad and not thinking well what she was doing. That isn't relevant to the topic at hand and honestly it isn't a problem she did that, it does makes sense in the episode it happened.

What i have an issue is how the narrative makes Dipper feel bad about considering staying studying with Stanford. This is something that Dipper was interested in and he was very fascinated by anything that was paranormal related. Stanford himself told Dipper he had a lot of potential and the kid was digging into it.

Mabel lashing out and not liking the idea of Dipper staying with Stanford is understandable in the episode Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future. She doesn't seem to have much friends back in her home and her parents are implied to not be the best. She gets scared of Dipper leaving, that's a reasonable fear for a kid to have.

However, as i mentioned before, Dipper is made feel bad about considering choosing something he wants to do. It isn't Mabel who has to learn that things change and sometimes this brings things we don't like. She doesn't exactly consider what Dipper wants for himself, she mainly cares about how ¨she is going to be alone¨ and making her brother feel selfish for choosing his own path or do something that could make him happy.

Yes, she learns that things can't stay the same forever and they are growing up, that itself is a pretty good development for her and overall a good message to teach.

Yet her being codependent on Dipper doesn't get brought up nor addressed, in fact the series seems to praise this behavior of hers. In how Dipper has to do what she wants if not he is a bad brother. Mabel's clinginess and controlling behaviour to an extent isn't called out, which that itself is a problem.

Small edit: I want to add an extra point here that Mabel does have a short scene near the end of the episode that she tells Dipper that she won't get in his way if he wants to stay with Stanford and she was ¨acting nuts¨ in the dream bubble. This is good for her but it does still feel in part that her issues weren't fully acknowledged and it doesn't help she didn't say this until after Dipper told her that he was going to stay with her and not be with Stanford, which is rather questionable in my opinion. It would have been more appropiate in the episode to have this brought up and getting adressed better than for her to wait for Dipper to do what she wanted.

In contrast in Amphibia, Marcy Wu has a similar arc about change. The series explores how she can take her escapism too far and how she can be very selfish in plenty of ways, something that is potrayed as an aspect she has to learn from and realize that it isn't healthy.

Her being too codependent on Anne and Sasha and their overall friendship is potrayed as toxic and the series explores this relationship a lot, having the girls grow over time and think about different aspects they have to work on.

In ¨True Colors¨ it is revealed that Marcy Wu learned about the Calamity Box the same day she got told by her parents that they were moving away. Very afraid of having to leave her friends behind and having to be alone in a new city, she found the Calamity Box and told Sasha and Anne about it. Worth of mentioning she didn't know if it would work but it was a desperate act of her just to not having to move away from her friends yet.

When Sasha and Anne find out about this they are, not surprisingly, very pissed and push from Marcy away for a moment, making Marcy realize her mistake and eventually apologizes for what she did.

In ¨All In¨ Marcy finally comes to terms with how she can't force Anne and Sasha to be the way she wants them to be and that her codependency on them isn't a good thing. She realizes that has to move away to her new home at some point, that things change but that doesn't mean the three of them have to stop being friends.

As you can see, there is a clear difference between how Mabel Pines and Marcy Wu’s characters and flaws are potrayed in the narrative. While Gravity Falls makes Mabel’s codependency and controlling behaviour to be something acceptable and that Dipper should conform to, Amphibia does the complete opposite and presents Marcy Wu’s actions as flaws she has and that can hurt other people, including her friends. She is the one that has to make a change and understand she has to work on herself if she wants to have new friends and keep these relationships as times moves on.

Since we are on topic, one thing that really bothered me is how Mabel created a version of Dipper that is ¨cool¨ and says yes and goes along with everything she wants to do. (Weirdmageddon Part 2)

This has… interesting implications of how Mabel believes that relationships should work, or at least with her brother twin Dipper. A lot has to do with how she and Dipper have very different personalities and she maybe wishes that he was more like her, but expecting someone else to say ¨yes¨ to everything you want is a toxic mentality to have. And the episode itself doesn’t address this enough, it doesn’t bring up to Mabel she can’t expect people to work like this and she should try thinking more about what others wants.

Lets talk about The Ghost and Molly Mcgee. In this series Molly Mcgee often has episodes where she has to learn certain lessons. One of them she learns over time is that often she has to give up control and let what others want to do instead.

A good example of this is ¨Ready, Set, Snow!¨ in which she is constanly trying to make Libby and Scratch to go and play outside in the snow with her without considering they would rather stay inside and sit near the fire for the moment. She spends most of the episode trying to find ways to make them go outside until she gets angry and goes out on her own. She has… quite of a mental breakdown in a sequence song. Scratch goes to check on her but he tells to her that she can’t do always what she wants and what it is important is for her to be spending time with her friends. Molly realizes she was wrong, goes back to the house and she apologizes for how she acted.

Molly has quite a lot of episodes like this, and all this becomes important in the series finale ¨The End¨ when she sees that Scratch has to go back to be Todd even if that means forgetting the memories he got as a ghost, her included. She tells Scratch that she is going to miss him a lot but she knows that forcing Scratch to stay wouldn’t be right. She encourages Scratch to go and ¨live his life¨ because she cares about Scratch being happy.

Similar to Marcy Wu, Molly learns that she can’t force people to do what she wants and she has to let them choose for themselves. She knows that encouraging Scratch to do what he always wanted to do as human is the right thing to do, even if it means saying goodbye to him.

I do understand the idea that Gravity Falls was doing at with something among the lines of ¨Dipper and Mabel not repeating the same mistakes that their uncles did¨ but that doesn’t mean Dipper has to give up his dreams at expense of what Mabel wants. As Dipper said in VS The Future episode: he can still visit and they can still talk to each other. They don’t have to fall apart the same way Standford and Stan did. Just like in Amphibia, if Marcy still was able to remain friends with Anne and Sasha over the years, the same can be applied to Dipper and Mabel as siblings.

If not, it could be rewritten in a way that makes Dipper reconsider that he would like to wait a few years before joining Stanford in his adventures. That he is still a kid and wants to spend a while longer figuring himself out and be with Mabel before making a decision. That way it feels more like a decision he wants to do for himself and goes along with his character arc that he doesn’t have to rush to grow up.

As for Mabel, she has a lot of growing up to do. She has to learn overtime that Dipper is his own person and he can take is own path. That if she wants to have friends or have in general healthy relationships with others, she can’t make it always about herself and people have their own needs as well. She would have to work on her codependency and clinginess she has on others, specially her own brother. This would help her with being a more mature capable individual when she grows up.

This post on itself isn’t me hating on Mabel’s character since she has moments she can be good and i feel a lot of her behaviour comes from not being taught properly and being a teenager. The problem is that the series doesn’t address this behaviour enough and, as result, it comes off as the series giving an unintentional underwhelming message of potraying Mabel’s issues as something that should be acceptable and not her having a dynamic with Dipper that comes off as toxic. It is important to understand to learn to support others and not always make things about ourselves. That sometimes relationships change and we can’t force people to be in a specific way.

#gravity falls #amphibia #The Ghost and Molly Mcgee #mabel pines #dipper pines #weirdmageddon #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #molly mcgee #scratch mcgee #Dipper should also like learn to put boundaries better and not go along with what Mabel always wants #He kinda has the opposite problem of Mabel #anyways i remember this rubbing off the wrong way when i watched 8 years ago and rewatching it still does

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 3 - The Imp

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

He's not just a bitch! He's a bitch with a backstory.

pt. 1 | pt. 2

Word Count: 3,140

Warnings: a lot of trauma related stuff, a lot of self-deprecating thoughts, some things are canon-compliant and some are my own, i think that's it, also hey look it's the reason blitzø wanted to sneak into ozzie's so bad!

Blitzø has been called many different things throughout his life. 

Most of those things have been insults but, hey, who’s keeping track? 

From an entitled prick to a selfish asshole to shit-for-brains to imp scum to… well, you get the gist of it. You name it, he’s been called it. And he was perfectly fine with being all of those things.

He’d decided very early on that he would own any titles he was given if it meant he had any sort of control over how they affected him. 

And it worked. If he was going to be called useless, or selfish, or a low-level regardless of what he did, he was just going to let himself become all of those things. If no one expects anything good to come from him anyway, why should he even care to try? This wouldn’t help stop them saying all those awful things he hated to hear about himself, but at the very least he’d be at peace knowing he wasn’t spending his entire life humiliating himself for the off-chance that someone would see him the way he wanted them to.

That way, he’d always have the upper hand.

Growing up in the circus, Blitzø learned at a very young age that he was no more than a collateral to his father. ‘Useless’ at being sufficiently entertaining, as he always heard he was, Blitzø understood entirely too well that he was only kept around for the simplest of all things he was: unpaid labor and an obligation.

At times, in his teenage years, he’d start to wonder if he would ever have been kept around at all if it weren’t for his mother.  

And sometimes, well into adulthood already, Blitzø would find himself hurting people. Really hurting people. Sometimes even on purpose, without ever fully understanding why he did what he did. Most of the time he would try and ignore it, or pretend not to care, try to convince himself it was for the best that he kept his distance from people. 

But, at certain times, thoughts of his mother would consume him. Would she be proud of who he had become? 

He hardly thought so. 

There were times when he would even find himself wondering who he could have grown up to be had she stayed around for longer. Would he be nice? Kind? Caring?

Would he be loved?

But she wasn’t around, and that was his fault, he kept reminding himself. And that wasn’t fucking fair. 

His mother was always kinder than his father ever was. She was sweet and caring and always made sure to check on him. The moments they spent together were always his favorite as a kid. 

When she was with him, it almost felt like nothing else mattered, as if her presence could shield him from anything- he always blindly believed her when she told him time and time again that everything would be okay. It was a nice feeling. 

She was always full of life, always the soul of every room she entered, always cheering Blitzø back up when he was down. She was always pure light.

Except when his father was around. 

Blitzø loathed the way her demeanor changed around him, how she minimized herself to be next to him. When he was young, he’d always toyed in his mind with the idea of her being two different people who shared the same body: there was his mother, and there was his father’s wife. 

His mother was kind, compassionate, caring, free. His father’s wife was cold, quiet, dull.  

Fizzarolli entered his life really early on. 

At merely seven years old, he was taken into the circus after losing his parents in a freak accident, and Blitzø remembers the day they met clear as day.

Fizz was small. At the young age of eight years old, Blitzø vividly remembers his mind conjuring the term ‘fragile’ to describe him. 

Scared and vulnerable, Fizzarolli was an emotional creature, only a kid, after all. And that demanded care. At first, Blitzø really didn’t enjoy having to share his mother as a caregiver in the slightest. He was also only a kid, after all.

As time passed, though, he grew to quite like Fizz’s presence. He’d never really been much too surrounded by other kids, as it’d always been only him and his parents, and now he had a best friend! Someone to talk to and play with all the time, and who was as eager for a friend as he was himself. 

A couple years later, at ten years old, Blitzø received news from his parents: he was going to be a big brother. His father didn’t seem to express too many feelings about that- he never really expressed much other than disdain when it came to him, for the matter, but his mom seemed excited. 

Blitzø wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it. Sure, he got used to sharing his life with Fizz, but that was enough, wasn’t it? Things were good as they were, why mess it up with another kid?

When Barbie was born, Blitzø made it his personal goal to express just how much he disliked the idea of having a sibling- but that only lasted a few weeks. A few weeks of being rude and purposefully stubborn were enough for him to notice how hurt his mother was that he was acting that way, especially when she was already clearly overwhelmed with taking care of the baby along with himself and Fizzarolli. 

Being the reason for his mother’s tears was the thing he hated the most in the whole wide world.

And so he stopped. It took him many months for his feelings about his sister to really change, but he decided he wouldn’t be so mean about it anymore, for his mom’s sake. And, with time, he grew used to his sister too. Sure, she was annoying and extremely clingy, as all babies and younger siblings are, and yes, he’d still act annoyed at her, but he started to not mind it as much.

He started to care.

At ten years old, too, on a random day, something rather unusual happened: his father came looking for him after a show, prompting him to stand up from the floor where he’d been playing with Fizz and their balloon horses, because he’d been… sold?

Yeah, that’s right. His dad told him, normal as ever, that apparently one of the Goetia princes had seen their part of the show earlier, and his father wanted to, quite literally, purchase Blitzø for the rest of the day. 

“Ew. Why?”

“Because money!” That always seemed to answer plenty when it came to Good Old Cash.

He was dragged to the Goetia palace with a purpose: to steal everything he could. That didn’t feel right nor did it feel safe. After all, who knew what sort of bad things could happen to him if he got caught stealing from royalty? He was young, but he knew they weren’t demons you wanted to mess with. 

He was scared. 

But they needed the money, and his dad had pulled the card that could get him to do basically anything he was asked to: ‘don’t you want to help your mother?’

Of course he’d do anything to help mama. 

Getting back home, he felt bad. Because the prince had been kind to him the entire time. Because the prince was naive, clearly not even having considered the possibility of Blitzø having been there to do what he did. Because everything his dad had told him about the big bad royals seemed to fall flat with Stolas. 

Getting back home, he still struggled to understand why he had been the one chosen to go, and not Fizz, when Fizz was clearly a better… well, everything… than he was. 

It was all too confusing, growing up with Fizz. As much as he loved him, there would always be a part of him that felt jealous, insecure around him. Because, to him, it seemed his best friend was everything he wanted to be and everything he wanted to be seen as. A better entertainer, a better friend, a better kid to his parents. Everything Blitzø could never live up to.

But, as he grew older, he came more and more to the realization that it wasn’t Fizz’s fault. It was all his parents. Or, rather, it was mostly his father. He was the one who put the two against each other, when, time and time again, they showed they only wished to work together, to be kids, to be friends… or more, maybe?

On the day of Fizarolli’s 17th birthday, Blitzø had been set on confessing the feelings he’d come to nurture towards the boy. Never used to this sort of thing, the only person he’d told about it was his mom, who had smiled oh-so-sweetly at him and hugged him as he let out tears, assuring him that it was okay for him to feel that way, even if it was scary. He’d prepared a badly rehearsed but well-meaning speech, written something for him in a birthday card, and even gone as far as stealing a rose from someone’s backyard to give him too.

Fizzarolli would have never even dreamed he’d have ever done all that for him, because he didn’t give him the card, and he didn’t give him the rose, and he didn’t tell him how he felt. Because there Fizz stood, laughing with his friends- friends! Friends who looked better and acted cooler and who were so, so much more interesting than Blitzø could ever be. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he was still young. He still let his jealousy get the best of him, still let the frustration of feeling pathetic for even considering the chance that his best friend could feel the same way he did consume him.

But, as angry, as frustrated, as sad as he was, he never meant for it all to happen.

The fire changed everything.

His mother was gone because of him. His best friend almost died because of him. Barbie only went unharmed in sheer, dumb luck. Everyone’s lives were ruined, and it was all his fault. 

And so he decided he’d be better off far away. Not forever. Not for long. But, for now, everyone was sure to be better off without him near. He’d caused enough destruction already and he’d forever have the scars to remind him.

So he left. Simple as day, he told a crying, barely eight-year-old Barbie he’d be back soon and left a note for his father to find and give Fizz when he recovered. 

Not forever. Not for long. 

The next time he saw his sister again was nine years later. And he tried. He so desperately tried to be present again. But Barbie didn’t seem to think it was fair of him to go no-contact for so many years. Yes, their father sucked- but leaving meant he left her to grow up alone with him. She lost a mother too. He wished things were different, but couldn’t blame her.

Two years later, at nineteen years old, was the first time Barbie had to be checked into rehab. Blitzø went there to visit every week, of course, but she never let him in. 

Just like Fizz, no matter how many times he tried, she simply didn’t want to see him.

After the fire happened, Blitzø decided he wouldn’t work as a clown ever again, cutting short his own big, flashy dreams.

 But that was the only thing he ever learned to do, and that made things difficult. For years on end, he had to jump from one job to another, trying to find anything he could to make a living for himself. 

He was never all that eager to admit to this part of his past, but there were times during which he’d slept on the streets or forced himself onto one one-night stand after the other just to have a place to crash. At some point, he found himself gambling the little money he got from working here and there. 

That’s how he met Verosika Mayday, anyway. At a cheap, dark, dirty club in Lust, as he tried to drink his sorrows away and let his luck decide whether he’d be able to pay for his stay at some gross little inn room down in Greed for the night or not, and she tried to kickstart her singing career, standing on the poor-lit makeshift stage with her electric-pink electric guitar and singing something barely anyone was paying any attention to.

A few years later came Loona. And Loona was love at first sight. At first, he wasn’t looking for a hellhound like her to adopt. He wanted a pet. 

But she looked so scared and angry, and so, so much like himself. She was about to be thrown out of the system into the streets to fend for herself at only eighteen. He knew what that was like entirely all too well, and he knew it wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person ever, but if only he could be something like a family to her, if only he could help her in any way so she didn't have to be all alone…

He adopted her immediately. 

It was a crazy idea, for many, very obvious reasons. First off, he’d just started making enough to make rent for a one-bedroom apartment in a shitty side of imp city. Second off, even though he was doing slightly better, he still barely made enough to feed himself alone. Third off, he had no fucking clue how to be a parent. Much less how to parent a teenager. 

But he made it work. He promised himself he’d make it work. He worked everywhere he could find, doing anything he possibly could (and, in hell, that meant anything), at any crazy hour, to make enough to support Loona. He bought books about parenting that he couldn't really read much of because most of them were targeted to soon-to-be parents of… well, babies, and included nonsense, fancy-pants words he didn’t have the patience to try and understand, but he tried his best to be a good parent to her. 

He never forced her to call him dad or anything of the sort, because he could understand how that was probably hard. He still couldn’t stop himself from shedding a few emotional tears when she did, even if most times were slip-ups. 

About a year or so later, he was set on a goal: he wanted to make a living for himself. Really make a living. Blitzø was tired of putting himself through every single job he could find just to barely make enough for him and Loona.

Well, it’s not exactly like he’d be the winner in a competition for the best morals in hell.

He started stealing. What? This was hell! 

The lifestyle went surprisingly well for him. He wasn’t making bank, but it beat working like 24 hours a day to barely survive. As time went on, though, he started getting more and more confident. Stealing more, from wealthier, more influential people, pushing himself to do better each time things went well for him, having fun with letting things get more violent and subsequently bringing attention to himself. 

He was bound to steal too close to the sun someday. After a particularly… well, greedy robbery down by the Greed ring, things went south quickly, resulting in his arrest. 

Jail sucked, but honestly, he’d had worse. And, hey, his cellmate was sufficiently cool. 

Moxxie wouldn’t tell him much about his past or how he ended up there, but that wasn’t to worry when he didn’t particularly want to do the same either. What mattered was he had a plan to escape and a plan for after that and Moxxie could be of assistance. 

Escaping wasn’t easy, and the two of them didn’t leave exactly unharmed, but it was successful. 

The grand plan for after that was to start a company that specified in hired assassinations. Moxxie wasn’t perfectly happy with the idea, but damn was he good with a gun. 

But two not-even-that-much-experienced assassins didn’t really make a company, did they?

After a lot of convincing, even though they didn’t even keep in contact quite as much as they used to anymore, he somehow got y/n, a succubus he’d become friends with about a year before, to agree to work with them. 

Okay, three’s a crowd. 

Millie joined in not long after. 

Four’s a party. Or, well, a hired assassination company.

They worked phenomenally well all together as a team- even Loona was brought into the business, though Blitzø never really let her participate in the killing. Business went okay… until it didn’t. Things didn’t work as well in reality as they did in their minds- not for very long, at least. 

And so Blitzø had to bring back into light the same dumb, far-fetched idea he’d had a year earlier.

“What if we could kill humans?” He blurted out during a meeting in which the point of discussion was how to increase business.

You made a face at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I mean it. Like, imagine how many of these sinners are walking around here just double-dying to have someone that they hate up there dead too. We’d have clients like forever!”

“If that were possible, Blitzø.,” Millie chimed in.

“It is possible.”

“Boss, no offense, but did you hit your head again?” Moxxie questioned, understandably confused.

“Y/n knows what I'm talking about!”

“What? No I don't.”

“Yeah you do. Your best friend Ozzie-boy has something that could let us do that.”

“Are you- wait.” There’s no fucking way. “When we met- were you- were you trying to steal an asmodean crystal?”

“I was not not trying to steal an asmodean crystal.”

“Uh, what is an asmodean crystal?” Loona asked, and you were surprised she’d even been paying attention.

You sighed. “Asmodeus has these enchanted crystals that can be used to create portals to the living world. We- uh- we get to use them at times. When necessary.”

“See? It’s perfect! He’d totally give you one.”

“Not for this. I think you forgot Fizzarolli hates your guts. Ozzie’s not gonna give me a crystal so I can help you with something. Really what the fuck did you even do to this guy?”

Blitzø ignored your last question completely. “He let you work with me,” he commented, matter-of-factly.

“He’s not my owner, asshole. But no. It’s not happening.”

Well, he'd really hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, but… he did know someone else who had a little something that could grant access to the living world.

A/N: I bet with so much complaining yall werent expecting this to actually come out huh expect the unexpected

#helluva boss #helluva boss imagine #helluva boss x reader #stolas goetia #Stolas #Stolas imagine #Stolas goetia imagine #Stolas x reader #Stolas goetia x reader #stolas x blitz #stolitz #stolas x blitzo #stolas helluva boss #blitz #Blitzø #blitzo #blitz helluva boss #blitzo helluva boss #blitzø helluva boss #blitz imagine #blitz x reader #blitzo imagine #blitzo x reader #Blitzø imagine #Blitzø x reader #stolitz x reader #blitzo x stolas #blitzø x Stolas x reader #mars writes #scandalous

[noxemma]

Kiss and Make Up

Sam (grumpily barging into the bunker kitchen): That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!

Sam (physically picking Cas up off the seat where he’s been sulking and pushing him toward the hallway): Go apologize so you both stop moping around.

Cas (tired and sad, resisting slightly): Sam, I’ve tried. He won’t talk to me.

Sam (deadly serious as he starts dragging Cas to Dean’s door): Cas, it’s been FIVE DAYS. Five days of Dean binging Dr. Sexy 24/7. Five days of you both living in dirty pajamas, not showering, not doing dishes, tension so thick I might need to invest in SCUBA gear.

Cas: Sam, I’ve already apolo-

Sam (ready to tear out his hair): APOLOGIZE AGAIN! Apologize better. I don’t care how you do it, but please, please just kiss and make up already!

Sam opens the door and shoves Cas in. Dean sits on his bed, wrapped in a blanket, his eyes glued to the TV despite Cas’ sudden appearance.

Dean (gruffly): I know Sam put you up to this. He thinks everything will magically get better if you apologize.

Cas (slightly agonized): Dean, I really am sorr-

Dean (angrily): I don’t want to hear another word, Cas. Just, just get out!

Cas stands for a moment, at a loss and in pain at Dean’s harsh words. Then his brow lifts as he recalls Sam’s words.

Cas (whispering mostly to himself): Sam’s right. I’ve been doing this all wrong.

Dean finally turns on the bed to face Cas, evidently paying more attention to the angel than he let on. He is a little shocked to find that Cas has moved to be right next to him, leaving barely any space between them.

Dean (looking up, confused and concerned at the determined look on Cas’ face): Cas, wha-

Cas cuts him off by bending down, firmly cupping his face and drawing him in for a scorching kiss. Dean’s hands land tentatively on Cas’ hips as if he isn’t sure whether he wants to push Cas away or draw him closer. Cas finally pulls back and studies Dean, who looks stunned.

Cas (slightly breathless and oddly shy after the intensity of the kiss): Did it work? Can we make up now?

Dean (blinking and absently running his fingers across his kiss swollen lips): Whoa, um. Wait “make up?”

Cas (nervously rambling): Sam implied that my previous apologies were insufficient and that I should “kiss and make up” with you. I was under the impression that the saying was figurative but after you refused to hear my apology once again, I thought that perhaps it was meant to be literal and that’s why my previous apologies were poorly received.

As Cas speaks Dean realizes just how distressing his anger and avoidance have been to the angel.

Dean (stricken):  Dammit, Cas. I forgive you. Of course, I forgive you. I was just angry. You didn’t need to- I didn’t mean to make you feel like- *sigh* I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry it took you doing something as drastic as kissing me to realize exactly how much of an ass I’ve been.

The room is silent except for Dr. Sexy still playing in the background. Cas doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes, still convinced he’s in the wrong despite Dean’s reassuring words.

Dean (teasing at first but falling flat): Also, while it would be funny to see Sam get a taste of his own medicine, you probably shouldn’t go around apologizing with kisses. Someone might get the wrong idea.

Cas (horrified gaze meeting Dean’s): I would never kiss Sam, or anyone else.

Dean: Oh …

Dean begins to blush as he slowly comes to the realization that Cas has basically just admitted that he only wants to kiss Dean.

Cas: Was it bad?

Dean (confused): Was what bad?

Cas (whispering so softly Dean nearly misses it):  The kiss?

Dean (licking his lip and staring intensely at Cas): Oh, well. I was kinda surprised by it so I couldn’t really say. But, uh, but if you … if you wanted to do it again I could, um, give you some pointers.

Cas (misunderstanding Dean’s words): That’s … you don’t have to do that, Dean. In fact, it was rather selfish of me to ask. I don’t want you to feel obligat-

Dean (grabbing the bottom of Cas’ shirt and pulling him back toward him): Cas, shut up and kiss me already.

Cas obliges, settling onto Dean’s lap to kiss him deeply for several minutes. When they break apart they don’t go far, resting their foreheads against each other, breathless and panting,

Cas (half teasing and half serious): How was that? Better?

Dean (pulling Cas impossibly closer on his lap): Pretty freaking awesome … I mean, you should probably keep practicing.

Cas laughs a little as Dean presses a kiss to his forehead.

Cas (teasingly): I think I could get rather fond of this whole “kiss and make up” idea, although it’s a shame we’d have to fight in order to make up. Dean (flirtatiously): Well then, we should probably just start dating already and make the whole thing easier, boyfriends fight all the time. Cas (shocked, like he didn’t really expect Dean to suggest dating): You think we should start dating? You want to be my … boyfriend?

Dean (fidgeting a bit under Cas and not making eye contact): Um, yeah? If you want me to, but we don’t have to label it or anything if you don’t want. I’m happy being whatever you want me to be. Cas (beaming with happiness and tilting Dean’s head to catch his eye): Boyfriends sounds wonderful. And, as your new boyfriend, I suggest we both shower.

Dean (gasping dramatically): Are you suggesting I stink?

Cas (somehow both sensually and stoically): I’m not denying it, just suggesting that, since my kisses still need practice, I may be able to perform other actions to make up with you. In the shower. Together.

Dean (squirming as Cas punctuates his sentence with a kiss on his neck): Oh. Oh! That’s a great idea, Cas.

They exit Dean’s room, hand in hand, and head down the hallway.

Sam (gloating as he witnesses the hand holding): Finally! Maybe I’ll actually get some peace around here now that they’ve stopped fighting and admitted their feelings.

Muffled moans, gasps, and grunts begin to filter through the thin bathroom door. Sam (horrified and muttering to himself as he puts in earplugs): It’s better than fighting, it’s better than fighting.

#destiel #deancas #spn #fanfic #destiel fic #fanfiction #the brainrot is always rotting #supernatural #I should be working on one of my WIPs but at least I'm writing #I don't even know what they're fighting about lol #probably something dumb like Cas eating the last piece of pie or watching the next episode of their show without Dean #self indulgent writing #this was supposed to be like 300 words but now its somehow 1k