#at least this way i can limit it to just a couple times a year lol

[dont-offend-the-bees]

We need better fucking care infrastructure. I should not be trusted with anyone's care ever 💛

#thing is caring for myself? I'm not GREAT at it but i can scrape by #i know my limits i know how much or little i need to survive i know that i can usually more or less bounce back after a tough time #i think if my life fell out from under me i could probably scrape it back even if i wound up doing a lot of couch surfing in the meantime #i genuinely don't know how I'll survive if i have to be fucking sole carer for someone #dad's on his way back now and he's been prescribed antibiotics and hopefully that's that #but at least a couple of times a year there's some shit like this #an awful cough or an infection or a fucking insane choice to like do some diy on the outside of the house standing on the windowsill #he fucking nearly chokes on his food once or twice a week #maybe he's just one of those cockroach type motherfuckers who'll never die no matter how the universe steps on him #but I'm fucking PISSED that he's taking that for granted and won't even sit and fucking talk to me about what happens when his luck runs out #I've been looking after mum alone for what four hours today and I'm already so tired and frustrated i wanna die #i am. a deeply impatient and unsociable creature. #i can be infinitely patient with friends! those are my fave people i chose to have them in my life I'd wait like a fucking mountain for them #mum and i were.... already sort of At Odds before all this started. #i'm the kid she never 100% really wanted and who never really 100% wanted to be here #and now we're stuck together and one day possibly sooner than any of us want it will be. just the two of us. #and i just. i don't know what that looks like. i really don't. #anyway. mental breakdown over hopefullly. #with a bit of luck dad and i actually fucking TALK before the next one #idk man. i never really knew what i wanted to do with my life but i thought I'd have time to figure it out #but maybe I'm just. the unqualified burnout with covid memory damage and a whole ass other human to care for #the exact thing i set out to avoid when i decided never to have kids #anyway. enough oversharing. #thank you anyone who's read my spiralling tag rambles in solidarity i love you #mr. bees speaks

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

#printers #my writing

[thot-of-khonshu]

Friendship Defined (Joel Miller x f! reader)

Summary: You and Joel have been friends with benefits for months. The blurred lines have you questioning what exactly makes a friend just a friend?

Warnings: 18+. MDNI. Mentions of sex (oral, p in v), mention of periods, fwb! Joel, non outbreak AU, implied age gap, fluff

Word Count:~800

Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely @swiftiscruff ( @swiftispunk & @joelscruff ) for coming up with this idea.

This one shot is dedicated to all of you.

I’ve been in this fandom for a few years now and as much as I’ve wanted to I still have trouble putting myself out there to make friends in the fandom. I usually just put out my stories and go about my day.

Well I want that to change!

This was such a beautiful idea and such a great reminder of how wonderful fandom can be. To be able to connect with so many talented people is such a gift and I want to try to get to know you guys more. This is my official post to put myself out there - so if anyone wants to come into my asks or DMs or message me on Discord please do!! I wanna be your friend lol!!

To celebrate this momentous weekend of friendship and fandom, I’ve created a Joel one shot all about friendship. With benefits lol. Enjoy!!

Joel would always introduce you as his friend. 

Friend being a blanket term but it did seem to fit into your large, intricate clusterfuck of whatever you were. 

Sure, in the literal sense you were friends. Ever since you met Joel through his little brother Tommy, a group of you would go out every Friday to the same bar for a beer and darts. 

Then when Tommy met Maria and everyone else in your group started to couple up, you had more time to spend together. 

It started off with friendly dart competitions that lasted a bit too long. Shots that would start to last until closing time. A shared Uber to one house because “it’ll save money”. 

Cut to Joel eating you out on your kitchen counter. And getting fucked in the shower that next morning. And then suddenly several times a week you’re trying to plan strategic ways on how to exit at different times so it didn’t seem suspicious. It didn’t matter, though. Tommy knew and would take the moment Joel left to fuck with him about it.

So if everyone else knew, why didn’t either of you know what this was? You didn’t want to bring it up because the idea of him getting freaked out and ending things made your chest tight.

You were so in your head about this arrangement that one night after leaving Joel’s house after watching and the Fast and the Furious and then having the ride of your life on his dick afterwards, you came home and immediately opened your laptop to do some soul and site searching. 

Is this still technically a friendship at least according to Merriam-Webster terms? 

friendship

noun. friend· ship ˈfren(d)-ˌship 

1: the state of being friends

….Google search number two: 

friend

noun. ˈfrend 

plural friends

1: one attached to another by affection or esteem

There are several other definitions for the word friend. 

2: One who is not hostile. 

Joel was never hostile with you. He was adorably patient when you took too long to decide what you wanted when you went out to dinner. He never hesitated to say sure when you wanted to try what was on his plate. 

The hardest he’s ever pressed onto you was when your ex boyfriend showed up at the bar one night. Once he made a beeline to talk to you, Joel’s massive hand snaked around your waist to pull you into him so he could know any talk with you tonight was off limits. You were off limits. 

The idea of Joel being so possessive made you so wet that you blew him in the alley that night. 

3:  one that favors or promotes something (such as a charity)

It takes you back to one of the first times you had slept with him. You were sprawled across his bed as he peeled your leggings from your body. You spread open for him as he pushed your thong aside to fit his thick finger into your hole. 

He curved his finger into you and came closer, feeling his breath on your clit.

Instinctively you blurted out, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

Joel looked up at you with a serious expression.

“None of my other exes really liked to do this.”

Without hesitation, Joel settled between your thighs again.

“Well then I guess I'm going to be your new favorite.” And with that, he slid his finger back inside you, this time with more intent. You let out a moan as he teased your clit with his finger, reminding you of why he was indeed your favorite.

4: a favored companion

You think about the late nights picking up french fries at McDonalds when you convince Joel out of the house past his bedtime on Saturday nights. You remember the nights you had your period and he still wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner; your cramps dulling as he soothed you on the couch. 

You think of how nice it is to just be with him. Laying naked and vulnerable, hearing things he hasn’t even told Tommy. 

You go back to Google. 

“What is the definition of a romantic relationship?” you type, the clacking of your keys sounding louder than ever. 

Before you can press enter, your phone rings loudly and startles you. It’s Joel. You pick up. 

“Hey. Just checkin’ in.” He says. “You left kinda quick so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Yeah.” You feel your heart swell inside your chest. You can’t stop grinning. “I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Oh…” You can see the crease form in his forehead when saying that. “You didn’t have to go or nothin’, I just didn’t know if you were sick.” 

“You’re my best friend.” You tell him, unaffected at how random that must seem for Joel to hear. “You know that, right?” 

But instead of being suspicious, Joel's voice softens. You’ve only heard this voice in passing, with Sarah on the other end.

“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too.”

You didn't realize how much that simple affirmation meant to you until you heard it.

There was a pause on the other end, a moment of shared unspoken understanding, a thick air of tension and want, and then you both spoke at once.

"Would you like to come back over?"

"Hey, I was just about to ask if I could come back over," you blurted out, suddenly feeling a little bold. “Maybe spend the night?”

The two of you laughed together; you closed your eyes and envisioned the crinkle in his eyes. His soft brown eyes are on you as he shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell are you still doing at home?

“I wouldn’t want anything more.”

That’s what friends are for, right?

#ppcugiftexchange2024 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #joel tlou

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Calling For Help - LN

Summary: Max F's little sister is sensible and responsible. Or at least that's what Lando thought till he gets a phone call asking for help.

This isn't the redemption request of my mess up, I had the idea before the request got sent in. I will start that request correction soon.

Lando being back in England isn't really unusual since McLaren is still based there and he has to go back to the tech centre quite often due to that.

Not many people know when he's back.

Few to say the least.

But when he gets a call from y/n's phone at nearly 3 in the morning, which he'd ignore if he wasn't awake playing Halo anyway.

"Lando?"

"Hey, y/n. What's up?" Lando asks while still partially focused on his game.

"Umm...I'm in a bit of trouble and I need your help. But you can't tell Max, like you really really can't tell him." Y/n states clearly very nervous to even be testing to see If Lando would betray his friend.

Now usually Lando wouldn't abuse his power in these situations, but there's been something he's been wanting to do with.

"I'll agree on two conditions. I don't think your reason for asking for help is ridiculous, and you agree to a date." Lando states earning a grumble that he knew was coming. "So spill what happened and we'll see if I'm feeling generous."

Lando knows there's a risk of Max not being impressed that his life-long best friend wants to date his little sister. But Lando could always come up with the argument that they'd officially be family if her and y/n get married which might help in his favour. He just has to stay away

"You are an utter twat." Y/n grumbles before another stern voice chimes in. "I need you to pick me up from the police station. My friend was driving drunk and I'm...not entirely sober, but I was in the passenger seat but allegedly I was drunk and disorderly."

Now it shouldn't be funny and no doubt if Max every discovers this happened, she'll be in so much trouble, she'll regret ever trusting Lando. But she'd not resort to him if he wasn't trusted.

"So the date?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, just tell me the station or get the officer to tell me and I'll be there soon." Lando chuckles before the phone is handed to a very unimpressed sounding officer who gives him the address of the station.

Apparently she's just getting a warning since she is young and never offended before, but because of how drunk she is they don't just want to let her walk out without there being someone there to get her home safely.

"Hey, princess." Lando greets mockingly as she's uncuffed. Certainly not an image that Lando thought he'd see in his lifetime.

Y/n has always been the sibling who didn't risk passing the limit. She even stopped Max going beyond it a couple times. But to say the least, she was always the least like to end up in a jail cell in handcuffs.

"You sobered up a little?" He asks while placing his jacket over her shoulders since she's really not dressed for the cool night air.

"A little. I'm so sorry, Lando...I just didn't know who else to call. I tried a couple other people but they didn't pick up." Y/n sighs making him nod a little before he smiles at her.

"I'm actually happy to hear you're living a little. I mean maybe don't get caught by the police while you friend drives drunk-or call me next time if you don't have a safe way of getting home."

"Safety wasn't at the forefront of my mind...I'm not sure anything was really at the front of my mind. Aside from getting to bed." Something that is now so overdue she feels the hangover kicking in. Definitely not something anyone should have to endure with no sleep whatsoever. "Can we get something to eat? I think my stomach is trying to digest the rest of me."

"Let me guess. Chicken nuggets happy meal and a double cheese burger." Lando grins since he's known her hungover order for years now after having witnessed Max try to nurse her hangovers ever since she turned 18. Though Lando does suspects she did actually break the law like most underage teens.

"It's annoying that you know that." Y/n states while Lando just turns to look at her.

"So what happened? You guys didn't get into crash, did you?" Lando asks making her sigh softly before she shakes her head quickly. "Ok, food is clearly a priority."

He makes quick work of finding a McDonald's which is open and he buys her the food, which he knows she'd usually fight about if she wasn't so hungry and just flat out exhausted. She does offer him some fries which he excepts.

"So Y/n Fewtrell, what would you like to do for our first date?" Lando asks making her groan and shake her head.

"Can this wait till I'm not so destroyed? I feel like shit." Y/n pouts while reaching for the burger. "Actually where are you taking me?"

"We'll just go back to my place and get you setup in the spare room. It's late and dropping you off at home is only going to make people wonder where you've been." Lando sighs while actually checking their surroundings to make sure they are on the right road since he did sort of zone out.

Once they arrive at his place, Lando does give her some clothes to borrow before he sort of just tucks her in.

"I'll see you later."

"Lando...thanks for picking me up and helping me out. You didn't have to but it means a lot to me. Really."

"You know I'd help you out whenever you need."

-

Y/n doesn't reappear from the room until nearly 6pm the next day and while Lando did have plans, he's cancelled them to make sure he is there when she wakes up.

"Morning, sunshine." Lando grins while she walks into his gaming room, clearly in search of him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I deserve." Y/n pouts before Lando moves back in his seat and pats his lap earning a look from her but she sighs and accepts sitting in his lap. "What you are playing?"

"Spider-man 2. They let me have early access for promo." Lando smiles while she seems already invested. "Yeah, we can play together."

"Really? I'm not going to get in the way?" Slight side effect of her brother being a bit of a dick when in the heat of the moment.

"No. You won't get in the way." Lando promises while she smiles as he hands her a controller.

The two of them play the game, really beginning to enjoy it. But an interruption comes in the form of the one person who maybe shouldn't see them in such a position.

"Oh fuck off. Fuck off!" Max exclaims moving back out the room when he walks in and finds his sister on his best friend's lap. "Stop it."

It takes a couple minutes but he reappears to find Lando looking very proud and y/n looking very terrified.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry...I got arrested for being drunk and disorderly when y/f/n got pulled over to drunk driving. I called Lando to come get me and as part of it, he said I'd have to go on a date." Y/n rambles out, not leaving out a single detail to save either of them.

"You got arrested?!" Max exclaims with laughter, apparently seeing that as the main focus of the whole thing. "And for the record, so long as I don't have to hear evidence of what happens between you and not witness anything more than a hug. We'll be on good terms."

"We haven't even been on a date yet." Y/n murmurs while Lando looks at me for a moment.

"But we have his blessing anyway." Lando grins wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly before laughing at Max's annoyed expression. "Want to play Spider-Man 2?"

"Yes. But I get first choice-oh and if you ever blackmail my too-honest-for-her-own-good sister into going on a date with you, I'll tell your parents and your sisters."

Lando's sisters, also known as y/n's life long best friends and another hurdle Lando had to consider when pretending that he wasn't attracted to y/n all these years. He's only a couple years younger than him being 21, but Lando has had a crush on her since they were kids and he didn't even know what a crush was.

Thankfully he's covered it well.

"Got it." Lando nods while he smiles at his best friend then handing him a controller. "I'll let the two of you play for my affection."

"I wouldn't-"

"I'm not fighting your future husband for your attention." Y/n states with her more sober personality peeking through while Max nods knowing that was coming. "But I am not moving from this position because you're surprisingly comfortable to sit on."

"Awww...Sorry, Max." Lando jokes as Max finds his own seat to join in.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #norris #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 #mclaren formula 1 #McLaren

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: forced to abandon your family and being spit out into a world of curses where everyone seems to gravitate towards you

─Warnings: a little angst¿ obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One

ok I had a burst of inspiration and I needed to write also need more platonic yanderes for jjk 😔 (I'll probably write another part because I left out many characters and villains… 😈)

SOMETIMES you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things.

You just wanted to help your parents with the family business, being a time of high demand in the hostelry sector, taking advantage of your school holidays, you loved your family very much and helping in the business was the least you could do.

But the moment a group of children come in screaming excitedly and running from one side to the other you lost your nerve, yes, they are kids celebrating a birthday, but so much activity, noise and annoyance made a vein swell on your forehead, you were reaching the limit, but at least there were only a couple of hours left to be able to close and surreptitiously remove the last people with brooms.

You swore you were losing years and hair, that the minutes passed slower and slower as if you were stuck in an endless hour.

"I think if you keep squeezing the tray like that you'll break it, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder, you turned to look at her, she was behind the bar, cleaning with a cloth while she glanced at you from time to time, she certainly knew how to detect when you were losing your temper, after all she saw you have many crises nervous before.

"Sorry, you know I can't stand so much movement and annoying noises, it's exhausting."

"Oh, I think you can go home if you want, you've done enough for today miss."

A new voice joined in, your father made way with a couple of plates, he left them on the bar to place his hands on your shoulders and rub circles on them, calming you with his touch, you smiled in agreement, your mood improving as you heard that you can go home once and for all, they wouldn't have much work at this hour.

"Don't forget the jacket love, it's already night and it's cold outside!"

"I know mom, bye, love you two!"

You shouted as you were already walking through the door, you waved to both of them before walking out onto the lonely streets, luckily your house wasn't too far from the family business. Without wasting time you grabbed your faithful life companions, your headphones, connecting them to your phone to listen to music at a ridiculously high volume. You let music be your final destination, if you ever suffer an accident, at least it'll be listen to something you like.

Moving your head slightly to the rhythm of the sound, looking at the ground as your legs moved on their own, knowing the way back by heart, you concentrated on drowning out the thoughts leaving your mind blank, it wasn't very difficult since you barely had enough active neurons at this time to have too deep thoughts.

"Huh?"

Some mist came out of your mouth when you felt something tiny cling to your leg, confused, you looked down with a blank look and an imperturbable face, you saw like a kind of fairy-bug, a strange thing was sticking to your leg, looking at you with eyes of a kicked dog. Oh yeah, you started seeing these kinds of creatures, monsters, whatever they are, a couple of months ago when you decided to walk into a 'witchcraft' shop just because a bracelet seemed cute to you.

When you wanted to question the old woman who sold it to you ─after checking that you hadn't spent too much time on the Internet to be hallucinating─ she was no longer there, as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, no one seemed to remember her except of you.

You grimaced, holding the little thing carefully, pushing it away from you as if you had just taken unidentified food out of the sink after having washed the dishes, without hesitation you threw it like it was a snot, you didn't even hear the squeal that came from it as it crashed to the ground because you hadn't turned the music down.

You continued your path, ignoring how more of those monsters began to appear, larger ones, with more or less human shapes, you didn't know if you had reached the point of emotional exhaustion that you no longer cared about those things, or you were so desensitized to certain things that you barely changed your expression.

"Help… help please… my son- oh- it burns…"

Your feet stopped suddenly, almost falling face first to the ground as you felt one of those monsters cling to your arm like an old woman crossing the street with a helper, looking at you with tears flowing down her cheeks, murmuring things you wouldn't understand if you weren't able to read lips, her hand went higher and higher, absorbing your body in a kind of wrestling-like lock-hug.

If you could you would pinch the bridge of your nose, you started to struggle with the woman, she started screaming the further you got away from her, you cursed silently when you couldn't get her off. This was it, the only thing that bothered you about seeing strange things was that they clung to you as if you were some kind of helper or salvation, you are not a saint, you are not a savior, you were nobody, but they kept coming to you like bees to pollen.

"Looks like you need some help"

You turned your head slowly, dramatizing the side eye you gave to that familiar voice, you heard by chance because of the song change and the small silence, but you could feel his presence for miles. Your frown deepened as you saw the albino look at you with a smile, oh, not only did you have to deal with these curses on your own, as if that were not enough, being one of the few people capable of perceiving these things certain people became interested in you. Sorcerers, it was funny, you didn't believe in magic until you saw this albino lunatic exorcise a curse in front of your eyes, even though you were somewhat skeptical, you refused to attend his institute, but they kept showing up to persuade.

"No, I can take care of this."

"Aw sure, go ahead then, I want to see how you do it."

This time you didn't listen to shit, but his shit eating smile told you everything you wanted to know, you started to struggle with the cursed woman again, it didn't work until you started talking to her. You found it was easier if you tried to give comforts to the poor cursed souls, and you had to do it reluctantly on these types of occasions, removing your headphones for greater concentration. You were terrible at comforting people, so it was like an uphill climb to get that curse to leave you alone.

"And that was ten minutes, you could have done it in twenty seconds if you knew how to use cursed energy."

"Just get lost, I already said no."

"We are offering you free knowledge, how can you refuse it?"

"Aren't public schools there for that?"

"There are no exorcization courses that I know of."

You rubbed your face desperately, you didn't want to learn sorcery, you didn't want to get in trouble, you didn't want to have to comfort anyone, you wanted your simple life, helping your parents, studying, getting a decent job. What kind of future would guarantee you knowing how to control that cursed energy? Clearly nothing good.

"I'm going to put it another way… you attract cursed energy, until now you have been lucky enough to find desperate souls in search of comfort, but what will happen when something much worse is stalking you? Something that seeks blood, your blood."

"Then I'll die, isn't it obvious?"

You raised your thumb with a sarcastic smile, you were too tired to continue a conversation, unfortunately Gojo's next words resonated in your head like a scratched record.

"What if they were your parents? They will not be safe by your side, as I said you attract bad energies."

A lump formed in your throat, letting a shaky breath escape your lips, he watched in silence as he had managed to hit your weak spot, your family, it was something you wouldn't change for the world, they were people who would die for you without a second thought, and just like them, you would give your life for them, they showered you with love and affection, the least you could do was protect them from your own problems.

As annoying as it was to give Gojo an affirmative answer, you had to swallow your pride for a greater reason, and just a week later you were already making the move. Covered as a kind of “Erasmus”, your parents were happy that you were going to explore and meet friends on your own, you wanted to tell them that you didn't want to go, that they would refuse to allow that decision, but that wasn't the case.

Then began what seemed like torture for you, as if you had fallen into a spider web and the more you struggled, the more you got caught in the webs. It was strange, everyone there seemed to have knowledge about who you were and where you came from while you were completely uninformed, it felt strange to be greeted so warmly by unknown people, inside you it was stressful to receive such a degree of attention, but you kept your expression unfazed.

You were like an extension of Megumi, only less expressive and definitely more stupid, you had no thoughts beyond your lost eyes staring into space, nothing made you flinch, nothing made you laugh, nothing made you have a hint of emotion that wasn't nervousness or tiredness. And yet the three first-year students, your classmates, could hear how you tried to drown out your nightly sobs, longing for your home and your family, how you secretly laughed lightly when you saw something stupid on your phone. Why didn't you want to share your emotions with them? Weren't they good enough for you?

You don't know what you triggered by strictly trying not to get emotionally close to people who from one day to the next could be in a grave, just because you couldn't stand it, just because you couldn't stand giving up more parts of your little heart to have them break later.

Itadori started to stick to you like a sticker, are you going for a walk? He needs to stretch his legs, do you want to laze around? He too! He is new to this world of curses like you, so he thinks it is better that you help each other in the face of complications and training. The first time he saw how a curse clung to you for comfort it almost gave him a seizure, he would never think he would be able to exorcise something so quickly, it worried him how used you were to being 'attacked' like that constantly and it only increased his worry, he needed to keep you safe from this dangerous world, it was a promise.

Megumi felt sorry, unlike him you had a normal and happy family, people to turn to, a little envious, he wasn't going to lie, but he tried to make you as comfortable as possible, maybe a little too paranoid about your well-being now that you were a novice unwilling to learn, he felt like he was your big brother, he wasn't going to take an eye off you even for a second, you could get hurt or worse and he had already experienced the bitter feeling.

Nobara was persistent that you open up to her, after all girls should be close, maybe she got too obsessed with that phrase when she watched suspiciously as Itadori dragged you to do something stupid ─against your will but without the energy of to refuse─ and you weren't going with her to have a snack or shopping, she felt a pang in her heart, what if she's not there and something happens? She doesn't trust anyone to take care of you, everyone is inept in her eyes.

Gojo proclaimed himself your fake father, no matter how hard he tried, he would in no way replace the real one, but if he wanted to play the family game you would let him if that made him happy. His attitude was the one that bothered you the most because it made you look like a helpless person at his side, he made you look like you needed him to take care of you. You accepted being the weakest link, but you could fight your own battles, especially after discovering some of your abilities, but he wouldn't allow it, you're too adorable to let go.

After some tests, missions and training, they discovered that your cursed energy acted like an antenna, attracting all curses that wanted to be forgiven or sought freedom. You were cursed with the 'gift' of forgiving and freeing from torture curses that wanted to cease to exist, and you acted as a peacemaker on some occasions. Luck was definitely not on your side or it was kicking you for having laughed at so many other people's sorrows on the internet, couldn't you punch? Kicks? Do voodoo? Summon shikigami? No, you had to pat and release cursed souls.

You didn't have enough suffocating attention from the sorcerers that you also had to have that from the curses. You were going to look for the old woman who cursed you the day you entered her store in another life and you were going to sacrifice her in the name of barbatos.

"Hey there you were! We're going out to dinner, are you coming?"

Nobara opened your door without knocking, you didn't stop looking at the ceiling while you lay motionless in your bed, you shook your head slowly in denial, you weren't in the mood, you were never in the mood.

"Don't talk nonsense, there is no way you can stay here alone, come on, come on! Gojo will pay for everyone."

Itadori entered immediately, pulling your wrist to drag you, you slid off the bed like a dead body, looking blankly at the boy who was giving you a puppy dog look, it wasn't that that made you accept, but if you didn't accept you would pass more time arguing with them in a useless way. You had learned to accept your destiny, you had learned to stay still in that web, maybe if you manage not to move you can free yourself, just maybe.

"I'm glad you decided to accept! It is good to have bonding time with your classmates and teacher, it encourages communication."

You nodded, looking absentmindedly at your phone, scrolling through the screen without looking at anything in particular but not wanting to have to look at the albino's expression, he knew you were going to accept, he knew you were going to go with them because they wouldn't give you any other option. He put his arm around your shoulders dragging you towards the car while he chattered things that went in one ear and out the other.

"Will you sit next to me?"

" No way, she will sit with me!"

And the tug of war began between Itadori and Nobara over who you would sit next to, too stubborn to 'share' if you sat in the middle, they would prefer to be the only ones next to you, Megumi on the other hand was the smartest when entering the first, if he sat in the middle he would assure him that you would sit next to him, however, absorbed in the discussion, they did not notice how you moved towards the passenger seat, end of the discussion and the headache, now you just had to rack your brain thinking about how to solve the fight next to who you would sit at while eating without giving anyone the benefit.

Sometimes you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things, now you had four caregivers but no concussion, for now.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #reader inster #platonic reader #jjk x reader #jjk x platonic reader #jujutsu kaisen x platonic reader #yandere platonic #yandere platonic x reader #yandere x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere platonic jujutsu kaisen x reader #sfw #reader insert #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #gojo satoru #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen various x reader #soft yandere #web of love #web of love jjk

[cheonstapes]

😝 omg I absolutely loved the way u wrote spider barbie!!! Thanks again so much!! 💕✨

If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to send in another request lol. 😅 (unless there’s a limit on how many requests can be sent, I completely understand 😊)

I would like to request Miguel O’Haraxfem!Jessica rabbit inspired reader. She’s the most beautiful & generous spider woman across the multiverse, which makes sense since she’s also the most desired among the spiders. Maybe one day she’s hanging out w/ her friends (Miles, Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr, & Peter) at the spider society cafeteria when everyone in the group could be discussing their Valentine’s Day plans. Until they decide to ask her if she has a date or any upcoming plans (The spider gang not knowing she’s already married to Miguel 😂) When asked she just zones out and has flashbacks about all the multiple dates her and miguel went on throughout the multiverse, including the spicy times they shared together~ 😉

When asked again, she lets them know tht she’s already in an established relationship w/ Miguel; which makes the spider gang’s jaws drop bcuz even though miguel is a good looking guy they can’t understand how a ray of sunshine like her ended up with someone as serious and angry like Miguel 😂

The spider gang could ask: “What do u see in tht guy?!?!” 😱 Spider-reader: “He makes me laugh..😏”

Thanks again! 😊🙏🏻

miguel o'hara stars in... 'WAIT...YOU'RE ROGER RABBIT?' (°ロ°) !

a/n ~ i absolutely love jessica rabbit, girlboss, she's so hot. TYSM for this request my love!!!! there's never a limit ( ` ω ´ ) send as many as you want bby 💗 i went a little overboard but this was so fun to write!! ALSO ITS MIGUELS BIRTHDAY!!

summary; it's valentine's day at hq, and everyone can't help but wonder why you're still single.

pairing; miguel o'hara x reader

wc; 2.3k+

cw; FLUFF!! SMUT!!, secret relationship, pining, no one can believe you n miguel are together, loss of virginity, m!masturbation, pillow fuckin, fleshlights, miguel fucks an ai you, first time, established relationship, reader is very popular, day dreaming abt miguel (real), they're just in love, nawt proofread - crying over this

valentine’s day at hq was always fun - for you least.

every year since you joined the spider society it seemed like the gifts would multiply - what stared out as some cute cards and a couple boxes of chocolate eventually turned into bouquets of roses, teddies, gifts, and even declaration’s of love. it was all flattering, honestly. to know that so many people admired you was a great feeling, even if you can’t reciprocate - it’s the sentiment that counts. but unfortunately you were already spoken for - by none other than your own boss, your fiancé, miguel. 

having started with such a beloved reputation was one of the main reasons your husband-to-be actually avoided you at first. it was like you had your own personal fan club - spiders’ following you around where you go, people offering to by you lunch, begging miguel to put you on a mission with them, showering you with compliments. you were really irritating to him, another distraction he didn’t have the time to deal with - not that he wanted to anyway. well, that was until he did. 

gradually, he started to notice how your eyes would light up when you’d see something you like, how you’d wear that one perfume thats scent would linger a bit too long in the air, ages after you’ve already sped off down the hallway. he warmed up to you eventually, leading to you two spending a lot more time together. little dates in the different universes, him picking up a little souvenir for you on missions and you doing the same - eventually leading to you two moving in together, and then him proposing. keeping you two’s relationship a secret was a decision that you both had to make, considering how popular you were and that miguel’s your boss. so every valentine’s day, you both celebrate together privately in miguel’s nueva york condo - exchanging gifts and kisses, drinking till you fall asleep in each other’s arms. this year, however, was a little different. 

hiding a relationship isn’t the easiest thing in the word, especially at a time like this - when all you want to do is pounce on your fiancé every time you see him ’n kiss him till you’re both breathless. it was getting tiring. it’s the day of love and you can’t do the one thing the day is about, love someone. you’d both send lingering glances at each other throughout the day, sneaky touches when no one’s looking, maybe even a few quick make out sesh’s in miguel’s office. you both knew you wouldn’t make it through the rest of the day, eventually separating as you sat in the canteen with some of your spider-friends - ones miguel wasn’t very keen on eating lunch with, leading to him retreating back to his office alone. 

the table was buzzing as everyone mentioned their plans for the day - miles taking gwen to his universe on a little day out that he swears isn’t a date, pav and gayatri going to her new movie, peter and mj having someone babysit mayday so they can go on a long-overdue date, and hobie - well, he doesn’t believe in valentine’s, i guess. you so badly wanted to join in, silently chewing on your ’spider-man 2099’ themed burger. your fiancé was basically everywhere, how can you not miss him - even if he’s just a couple minutes walk from you. it was bittersweet, to say the least, to listen to your friends so passionately- 

“hey, y/n, any plans this year? please tell me you’re finally dating someone.” the sudden voice made you jump, eyes widening as you look at the culprit, a sly smile on her face. “uhhh, n-no not really.” that was a lie. the whole table groaned their complaints, all still in disbelief that you’re still not seeing anyone. “you serious? love, look at you - and look at them.” hobie gestures to the crowd forming behind the table, all of them holding some sort of gift for you - some more…extravagant than the rest. “there’s no way that you can’t find someone, babe.” i mean, technically, he was right - you could practically get anyone you wanted. but, you already got what you want, and that’s miguel. 

he’s your everything. despite the turbulent start you both had, it was all worth it in the end. miguel loves like you’re his last - which you are, and his first too - in all aspects. hearing your boss was a virgin was even more shocking then him admitting his feelings for you - cause, like, how? you tried so hard not to laugh, he couldn’t be serious. it turns out he was very, very, very serious. you felt so bad, running up to him and holding him tightly - reassuring him that is was ok, that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin no matter his age. you took it slow for the first few months, nothing more than heated kisses and a bit of groping but it never went further than that. to be honest, you were scared. miguel was nothing short of impatient to feel you, to finally sink his cock into you after centuries of you denying him of that. you knew, of course, how desperate he was - but it was a big deal to you. the thing was, you were a virgin too. it was too sudden to mention so you went with keeping it a secret, but damn was it getting harder to not give in. the thought of him leaving after fucking you was at the forefront of your mind, you obviously knew he wouldn’t - but men are still men, right?

when he did find out, it went a hell of a lot better than you expected it to. both of you deciding to take your time learning each other’s bodies, exploring new likes and dislikes, discovering new kinks, and overall - strengthening the love you both hold for each other. your first time was magical. it was exactly three years ago now, on valentines day, sprawled out on miguel’s plush, king sized bed.

“f-fhhuck, feels so good, baby. are…are you doing ok, sweetheart?”

he was so attentive, making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, constantly asking if you’re feeling alright. it couldn’t have been more perfect. miguel’s large frame engulfed you as you sat in his. lap, his body pressed against the headboard. holding you close, he guided your hips slowly against his slick cock, the stretch momentarily caused a sharp pain to run through your body - miguel soothing you with sweet, wet kisses down the side of your sweaty neck. his large hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, waist, gently kneading your ass. the room felt hot, sweat mixing together as your hips move in tandem with his own - it was a prime example of love making. breathless kisses were shared, lips slotting together sloppily as you rode him eagerly - you were such a sight on top of him, a goddess sent just for him. “mig- baby, you’re so- shit, you’re so perfect.” no, you were perfect. soft skin pressing against his solid body, tits rubbing on his - slick running down his length. your moans were like a chorus of angels singing down to him, his heart almost pounding out of his chest from the love he feels for you. 

sharing a moment like this together was a turning point in your relationship. giving each other your virginities, connecting in a way you will never experience with anyone else - you were made for each other. his hips sped up, slamming into your sore cunt as he wrapped his arms around your waist. digging his feet into the soft sheets and pulling your hot body into his, lips latching onto your jaw. you still couldn’t believe he was a virgin before he met you. the way he moved, the way his tip would hit that one spot deep by your cervix, the way his thick fingers would caress your aching nipples - he had to have had some sort of experience. but the truth was, miguel had little to no sex drive. not feeling compelled at all to even rub one off, he was too busy after all - trying to keep the multiverse in tact. that all changed when he met you. suddenly, in his 30 years of living, did he have his first wet dream - and it was about you. 

he felt like a teenager again, learning things for the first time. watching porn for the first time was something, spending hours looking for a woman who looks somewhat like you - much to the interest and concern of LYLA. this was very serious to him, knowing that he would eventually fuck you - he would spend all his free time learning how to please you properly. tutorials, articles, and just plain amateur porn were his best friends. he would practice with his pillow, even buying a fleshlight to stick between it to just make it a little bit more realistic. at one point, he felt like he completely lost it. spending months learning how to fuck you wasn’t making him feel any better, he didn’t feel like he really knew how to please you. so what did he do? he made a holographic version of you, of course!

programming it to be exactly like you, using your measurements from when he made your suit to get your body as accurate as possible. it wasn’t really you, but it was good enough. he still had to work out the kinks but he was getting there. he ditched the porn completely, using ai you to progress instead. fucking an ai isn’t as easy as you think, but it was enough to help him figure out what positions he wants you in, even what ones you’d like statistically. miguel never did end up telling you about it, keeping ai you locked away in a secret folder. he was no stranger in letting you know how obsessed he was with you, but this was just embarrassing to him - and knowing you, he would never live this down. but don’t worry, LYLA’s always here to remind him time and time again. 

miguel was never the same after he lost his virginity to you - he became insatiable. it was like a switch flipped in his brain and suddenly he was always horny for you, quickies in his office becoming daily occurrences. speaking of quickies, you could feel his cum from earlier pooling in your panties right now- 

“yn? YN! is she- is she ok?” oh…you were at lunch still. everyone at the table was staring at. you with raised brows, silently intimidating you into spilling what you were so engrossed in to the point where you missed the whole conversation. you obviously weren’t about to tell them you were just thinking of their boss fucking you into next week, like come on - think about the kids, guys. “i…i, uh- it was nothing really. sorry about that, just zoned out for a sec.” it was something, someone as a matter of fact. you might as well tell them, what’s the harm in it? you’re only gonna get absolutely bombarded by everyone and anyone in hq but that’s the least of your worries. the table had seemingly moved on, chatting about their plans again before you jumped in - “actually, i do have plans.” that certainly got their attention. all eyes were on you, even the crowd still lingering behind perked up at your comment, leaning closer to hear what you had to say. 

“me ’n miguel were just gonna stay ho-“ 

“MIGUEL?!”

gasps. that’s all you could hear. everyones jaws were dropped, blinking their eyes at you like a bunch of frogs. “what? am i not allowed to spend time with my fiancé-“

“FIANCÈ?!”

it’s like every time you spoke it got worse, the table erupting in shouts of disbelief - it was getting difficult to speak over them, the constant questions being thrown at you were overwhelming to say the least. you weren’t obligated to explain yourself, love is love - even if it’s between someone as lovely and sweet as you, and someone as moody and feral as miguel. you guys made it work and that’s all that matters! someone else had something to say on the matter though, the commotion prompting miguel to emerge out of his cave and head straight to you.

“as i was saying, he’s my fiancé, we always spend valentines together. miguel is a great guy. yeah, he’s an asshole - but you just gotta get to know him.” you’re not wrong, miguel certainly seems to agree. the table went silent, staring up at his figure looming over you. “i don’t appreciate you guys harassing my wife. now, if you have no further questions - we have plans tonight, that don’t involve people prying into our privacy.” you spun around in your seat, looking up at him sheepishly. his eyes seemed to warm up at bit, a large hand reaching out to you - one that you immediately take. he held you close to him, interlocking your fingers tightly as he addressed the table. “and…our wedding is next year. you’re all only invited ‘cause she wanted you guys there. do not disappoint her.” with that, he turns on his heels, dragging you along with him - he didn’t want to deal with them anymore, not when he had the rest of the day to spend loving you instead. 

“baby, y’sure you’re ok with everyone knowing about…us?” that was a stupid question. of course he was, you’re his - and he’s yours. “you’re about to be my wife cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - ‘specially that fuckin’ fan club of yours.” he was such a big baby, pouting like that. “oh my god! you’re jealous of a bunch of kids who have a little crush on me, babe. ‘sides, i think it’s quite cute - i got so much chocolate this year-“

“throw them away, i’m getting you all that and more.”

-cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - sweetheart, everyone needs to know you're off limits

-the miguel figure on my dresser says hi!

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #cheonstapes films!🪷 #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #astv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #starringduckiimo🌟 #cheonsshowreals 🤍

[levitiquee]

“I hate it.”

You looked up at him, gritting your teeth through the words. You were angry, so so angry. Furious, enraged, aggravated. Who does he think he is, that fucking Jaeger?

Eren’s last letter finally came through. The one where he says he was going to raid Liberio and asked the scouts for help. Or did he? With or without help, he said. The audacity.

After all the shit you and the others had to go through, the huge reports trying to explain why he went missing, answering the higher ups about his disappearance, trying to justify it, seeking up excuses. Then he has the fucking nerve to send these letters.

You had stormed out right after Hange read out the words, not even bothering to ask to be excused. You were tired of dealing with that emo teenage brat.

But Levi gave no reaction to the sharpness of your tone, already aware of the cause of your temper. He was there in the room, his expression had tightened just as yours had. And he must’ve followed you right after.

He always does.

Without a word, he lowered himself down on the step beside you.

“This is filthy.” He scrunched his nose. “Couldn’t have found a better place?”

“I didn’t ask you to sit here.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. You just kind of took the first isolated corner you could find. Sure, the stairs were filthy, but that was the last thing on your mind.

“Why did you follow me anyways?” You asked.

“I didn’t follow you.” Levi sighs, stretching his leg to kick a piece of rock. It flew all the way over to a wall, making soft little sounds on the pavement as it impacted. “I needed air. He pissed me off.”

You let out a noise in agreement. That’s one thing you can both agree on. Eren Jaeger was an absolute piece of shit with a talent to irritate like no other.

“Next time I’m seeing him,” You mumbled darkly. “I’m breaking a couple bones, I swear.”

“That was actually my plan, but I’d let you have the honors as well.”

“You should’ve hit him harder all those years ago, back in the courtroom.”

“Definitely.”

That made you smile.

But it was the absolute seriousness of his expression that made you crack. The stony face, with an even more stoic tone. He actually seemed to be considering the idea. As if you and him were merely discussing the weather instead of the best way to beat up an adolescent boy. Without even meaning to, you were grinning, a snort escaping you making Levi glance at you with the side of his eyes. He frowned.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” You smiled. “That’s why it’s funny.” Poor Eren, he’s had it coming.”

Finally, you felt the anger go down.

It’s always like that. You get angry, you get emotional, but when you turn around, Levi’s always there, in his own strange little way, a hand on your shoulder and shooting you a look. Or times like this when you’re upset and pissed, and he just sits with you and goes along with everything you say until you feel better.

You leaned back, letting yourself fall back on your arms, kicking your legs and stretching them. Your shoulders hurt from how stiff they’ve been from the tension until now. You tilted your head to look at him.

“Look at us, making plans about how to beat up a kid half our age. What have we come to?”

“Our fucking limit.” Levi grumbled, but the scowl lessened, his brows straightening slightly at your calmer tone. His own shoulders relaxed. “He deserves it at this point.”

You grinned. Sure, you can’t really hit Eren right now, but the idea does make you feel better. For the time being at least, you’ll have to cope by daydreaming.

But you were so tired, you think. Very so.

Why is it that you could never stop running?

Eren’s shit was only the least of it, but it’s been so hard. Being a scout was never supposed to be easy. But ever since Erwin and the others died, nothing's been the same. You could hardly celebrate the success at retaking wall maria when the price to pay was the blood of everyone you knew. Even witnessing the wonder that is the sea for the first time hadn’t been as thrilling as you thought, how could it when you know there’s a whole other world beyond it, and that they want you dead? Stepping in Marley and realizing all that you’ve been kept away from, a life you couldn’t even imagine. It must be nice to live without being so terrified, scared for you and scared for your friends, you had thought. Must be nice to live without having the rest of the world label you as devils and to take the peace for granted.

You wished you could just catch a fucking break. Maybe forever.

You sighed.

“Levi.”

He gave a lazy glance. “What?”

“Let’s run away.” You muttered softly under your breath. Eyes focused on the ground. “Me and you. And Hange, if they want to come.” You sighed, pausing a little. “I hate it. I hate all of it. I’m sure you do too.”

With that, you turned to look at him, right in those silver eyes of his. They looked almost blue here in the moonlight. Was it just you or was even the wind holding its breath?

“This isn’t what I signed up for Lev. I thought I was going to fight titans, not humans.”

“What..” He asked, staring at you unblinking, almost confused. And surprised. And something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you on about?”

“So, let’s go.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. Somewhere far away. We could just get up and leave right now.”

“..now?”

Levi gaped, struggling to find something to say. Your light tone indicated that it was a joke but yet, there was something in your eyes. A glimmer of something. That made him think that maybe it wasn’t a joke after all.

You grinned. “Leave this to the kids. They don’t listen to us either way. Let’s go and start another life.”

And for a moment, there was silence. You stared at him as he did the same, eyes boring into each other, unspoken words and unconfessed truths thrumming in the air between.

And just for that moment, you considered it. You really, really considered it. Just saying it out loud.

To tell him what you never did. What you’ve been hiding from him for so long.

Would that be so bad?

What if you did run away after all?

You sighed.

“Jeez, Levi.” You finally looked away, peeling your eyes off of him. “Relax. You look like I’m about to drag you from here at gunpoint. It was a joke.”

Levi was quick to duck his head away as well. “I know.” He mumbled. “I know. I’m not that fucking dense.”

“Were you hoping I was serious?” You pulled your knees up to his chest, letting your head rest on them to look at him, a grin forming.

He did. But he couldn’t say that, could he?

“You are the last person I’d willingly choose to spend my life with.” He scowled.

“That’s cruel.” You gasped dramatically, feigning hurt and giving him a mock glare. “We get along fine.”

“You’re missing the part where I want to choke one or two dozen times a day.”

“Kinky.”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay, but, think about it,” You pressed your lips together with the effort to hold the grin together, trying your best to look serious. How could you when he looked so incredulous? It only made you want to fuck around with him a little more. “You could be a farmer or some shit. I could be the pretty housewife. Some peace and calm.”

“You as a housewife?” Levi snorted, amusement gleaming in his eyes at the thought. “Peace and calm at the same place where you are?”

“Well,” You shrugged, “You could be the pretty housewife then. I won’t mind.”

“I think I'll stick to being a squad captain, thanks.”

"You're no fun."

"Shut the fuck up.''

The giggle finally escaped you, unable to hold it in any longer. And little after, you were laughing, clutching your sides, making the mistake of looking at his very offended face and then you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. Soon, even Levi’s face softened, the corners of his mouth quirking up just a little.

“HEYYY YOU TWO!”

Hange yells, appearing out of nowhere and startling the shit out of the two of you, making you almost choke. They flopped themselves down between you, wrapping their arms around both of your shoulders, squeezing hard and letting their head drop. “Nice of you to leave me alone with those children. Gave me a headache.”

“You’re the commander after all.” You said coughing, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“Next time, can you at least say hello before you proceed to crush us to death?” Levi grumbled, squirming under Hange’s grasp.

“No.” They reply to Levi. “But jeez.. I say one word and Mikasa gets all defensive. Why is everyone acting like it’s my fault?” Hange pouts.

“Aw Hange.” You pat their back, laughing.

“I want to smack Eren.”

“Don’t we all?” Levi muttered quietly under his breath.

“Me and Levi booked him first.” You said. “You can have the rest if anything remains.”

“Aw man. No fair.”

Hange pulled a face. And then they pulled the two of you closer, until all 3 of you were practically squishing against each other.

You let your eyes fall shut, soaking in the warmth. And Levi, even Levi— who’s always complaining about Hange’s very physical manners—didn’t complain anymore. And the three of you just stayed like that, leaning against each other in silence. The presence of the other was enough itself.

Then Hange spoke, so quietly you would’ve barely heard it if you weren’t so close.

“How long do you think until it’s over?”

You pondered over the question a little while, thinking about it. Then you sighed.

“Who knows? Will it ever really be over?”

Hange exhaled softly, pausing. They looked up, the moonlight glinting off their glasses. There were a lot of stars tonight.

“Think Erwin’s getting amusement watching us be miserable?” They muttered.

It was Levi to answer this time.

"Yes."

#I CANT WRITE SOMETHING SHORT TO SAVE MY LIFE #IT WAS MEANT TO BE SMTH SMALL #i write a lot when I'm sad ig #they dont necessarily end up good but I write lengthy shit anyways #also this is based on a real convo #i am certain they shit talked ab eren a lot during the timeskip #lmao #Here's a lil smth #levi ackerman #levi #aot #captain levi #levi heichou #snk #aot fandom #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot levi x reader #captain levi x reader #levi x reader imagine #levi x reader imagines #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot levi #aot levi ackerman #levi x hange #levi fluff #hange zoe #hange

[cleoluvrr]

Call Me (Rafe Cameron x Reader) I

SYNOPSIS: call someone else if you want that.

WARNINGS: mature content; secret relationship, verbal abuse, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, obsession, depiction of explicit sexual acts

masterlist

rafe always had a meanness to him, one that you’d never been oblivious to, though never really on the receiving end of it at first. the two of you would have petty banter, little arguments that would eventually reveal the underlying tension between you, but it was nothing more than that.

with others, however, you’d seen him be cruel–beyond cruel. your middle sister, just a couple years your junior, was friends with kiara carrera and those other boys she hangs out with by association. you’d heard the stories of his behavior, and while it may make you a terrible person, you really didn’t care. his business with them wasn’t yours, and you weren’t close enough to rafe to confront him about it. she’s never said he’s done anything to her directly, so what could you really do about it? it’s not like she knew you two even talked in the first place, so it was out of your hands.

maybe it was because of his strained relationship with his father, or the lack of relationship with his mother. it could be just how he is naturally; you wouldn’t be surprised.

however, you began to become a victim of his malice yourself at some point last year. you two weren’t particularly nice to each other, but there was something different this time. it used to be playful, but this time it was purposeful; at least it was on his end.

sure, rafe isn’t the most rational person in the world, but the amount of anger and frustration he was taking out on the girl he was secretly fucking was completely out of proportion. 

you asked him more times than i can remember; begging him to tell you what was wrong. even when you should have been mad at him for treating you like some bitch off the street, you simply couldn’t ignore the feeling of something being wrong with him. maybe you caught feelings for him and that’s why you cared so much, even when you shouldn’t have.

it was around the time you sister started staying out later, riding around town with her friends and stirring up trouble like she had no home-training. you were positive rafe had something to do with it, but never said anything about it. it wasn’t like he was answering your calls at the time anyway.

eventually, you just stopped talking. maybe it was inevitable, a natural occurrence from lack of mutual communication.

so when you saw him just a few dozen yards away for the first time in months, you weren’t sure how to feel.

you watch as he takes each drink to the head, shot after shot from across the room. his blonde hair that would have once been blocking his vision was now cropped short and barely visible from where you stood. the people around him encouraged the behavior, cheering him on every time he slammed the bottom of a shot glass back on the table.

he looked deceptively sober, but his body language was all the evidence you needed to know he had more than a bump of the cocaine some girl brought to the party. his alcohol tolerance was way stronger than everyone around him, the sloppiness of his friends completely opposite of his nonchalant demeanor.

that was one of many differences between the two of you. he liked to drink, get high, and do things that were far past the limits of legality that only someone with money and influence like him could get away with. you hated the feeling of losing control, of not being completely aware of what was happening around you, and would even never think of doing a fraction of the things he does.

yet, for some reason that you could never figure out, he piqued your interest. 

maybe it was because he was “bad,” and you were “good.” maybe it was his roughness that attracted you, or the way he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. rafe’s instability contrasted everything about you; it gave you a rush that you’ve never felt with anyone else.

“what are you looking at?”

you’re pulled out of the one-sided staring contest, the sound of your friend’s voice capturing your attention over the loud music. 

“what?” you said. you leaned down towards the shorter blond, ear in better reach of her voice.

“what are you looking at?” she repeats louder this time. her breath smells of alcohol, the pink whitney sitting in the bottom of her cup the clear cause of her slight swaying.

your eyes flicker back to the boy across the room for a moment, the sight of him leaning down to snort a white substance from the table beneath him making you cringe to yourself. your friend’s eyes follow yours, the green irises further revealed by the widening of her eyes.

“rafe cameron?” she says quite loudly, her voice carrying around the area as other people nearby turn to look at her in annoyance. “why the hell are you staring at rafe cameron?”

“say it louder, why don’t you? i don’t think russia could hear you.” your eyes tear away from him and return them to your scantily clad friend. “jesus christ, misty. you are so drunk.”

“you should try it some time.” she giggles, arm raising her cup in a cheer. you rolled your eyes at her and raised your own drink to your lips, the taste of cool water refreshing on your tongue. 

your experience with alcohol is slim by choice. the idea of not being in total control of yourself makes you more than uncomfortable, and the taste of the beverage did not appeal to you. you knew how to have a good time without the aid of alcohol or drugs.

“i’ll pass…” you say with a breathy chuckle. you pulled out your phone to check the time, the dark of the night beginning to drag on into the earliest hours of the morning. you were sure if you stayed out any longer your parents would send a search group.

the party hadn’t been much fun to me anyways, the celebration of your friend’s recent graduation not doing much to keep me entertained.

your gaze returns to the spot where rafe stood only to be met with nothing, the boy nowhere to be found in your brief sweep of the area. you look around the party from where you stood, head swiveling to find the blonde amongst the gaggle of kooks in the room. he has seemingly vanished into thin air despite being the most noticeable person in the place.

“hey, um…” you trailed off, head turning back to face a drunk misty. “i need to get home. are you ready to go?”

the girl shakes her head, finger pointing behind her to the familiar figure of her boyfriend. he was watching her closely, clearly on edge as his inebriated girlfriend consumed enough liquor to take down a grown man.

“jordan is taking me home with him.” she giggles again, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. you were sure he’d have her tucked into bed within the next two hours, whatever she thought was gonna happen would not be happening if he had anything to say about it.

“okay, girl. i’ll see you soon.” you pulled her into an embrace, the top of her head reaching the bottom of your chin as you lean down to hug her. you weren't sure how she wasn’t falling over yet–there wasn't much body for the alcohol she had befriended for the night to go through. “and lay off the liquor.” your voice was stern as you pulled away.

she throws the rest of the liquid down her throat in response, the bottom of the red solo cup left empty as crushed it beneath her fingers. you couldn’t help but to smile at her before turning away, her boyfriend now fast approaching before she got a chance to find the liquor table again.

stepping out of the party, you pull your phone from the pocket of your skirt to order a car home. it had completely slipped your mind that you rode here with misty and her boyfriend, instantly reminded of the fact that you didn’t own a car nor a license as you approached the front yard. the prices for cars at this time a night were more than you got paid per hour.

your head fell back in frustration, the warm summer breeze blowing against your bare legs as you ground out into the night sky. 

“y/n?”

the sound of your name sends a shiver down your back. you stopped dead in your tracks, as if the cool metal of a gun was being held to the back of your skull. 

your head turns in the direction of the familiar voice, eyes tearing away from the distant constellations in the night sky. lafe’s leaning against the side of his truck, a mixture of keys dangling around his finger.

“rafe.” you respond to him with his own name. “long time, no see.”

your feet carried you towards the blonde resting against the dark colored vehicle behind, eyes locked on the blue of his own. 

you could feel the sharpness of your teeth tearing into your bottom lip, the warm, bubbly feeling you got whenever the two of you were in the same room making a return. rafe’s eyes fell to the way you were ravaging the plump flesh, almost entranced by the sight. 

“how’ve you been?” the taller man pulls his gaze away and returns it to your eyes as he inquires. “heard you graduated, congrats by the way.”

“yeah, thanks.” you reply chipperly. “um…i’ve been alright. not a lot going on, to be honest. you?”

“same, same… he trails off awkwardly, the sounds of the late night filling the air between us. “hey, um, do you–do you need a ride, or anything?”

you shook your head immediately and raised your hand to show him the rideshare app on the screen.

“no, i’m good. i don’t wanna take you out of your way.” you smile politely at him as you speak. “thanks, though.”

rafe shakes his head and opens the passenger’s side door he was previously leaning on just seconds before. 

“it’s no big deal, seriously. you don’t live that far from me, i’m heading in that direction anyway.”

you stare at him wordlessly for a moment, eyes tearing away from him and flickering around the street around you. no one had exited the party after you did, at least not that you had seen. the ground was shaking beneath the two of you as the bass of the music continued strongly through the night.

you hesitantly take a step towards the car door being held open by the tall blonde, not quite sure if it’s smart for you to be around him right now. you lift yourself into the tall truck and plop down into the seat before your eyes set on rafe once again. 

the fist-stized muscle protected by your ribs feels as if it’s trying to tear your chest in half to escape just from the sight of rafe, unsure of how to behave around him anymore. 

shutting the door after seeing you settled inside, he makes his way over to the driver’s side. watching as he buckles himself in and starts the car, the roaring of the engine sent a vibration through the entirety of your being. 

“do you think you should be driving right now?” you spoke up after a minute of silence. his head turns fully to meet your eyes, his pupils large and eyes dark under the minimal lighting of the moon above.

his eyebrows raise at the inquiry before just barely furrowing them in confusion.

“you think i can’t handle my liquor?” he blinks at you in the darkness of the car, eyelids hiding and revealing the blown out pupils that had taken over the ocean blue of his irises. “you never had a problem with it before.”

your mouth opened briefly before snapping back shut, the words that left his own rendering you responseless. 

you and rafe had a long history together, though, if you were to ask anyone else that, they’d be taken by surprise. there had been plenty of times where you’ve let him drive around while he was far from sober, but it had been months since then. it had been months since you two had spoken, and it wasn’t really something you felt comfortable with anymore.

“okay, well it’s been a while and you’ve had a lot to drink tonight.” you eventually found your voice again, pointing out how long it’s been since you’d been in a situation like this one. 

rafe didn’t argue, instead choosing to shrug his shoulders wordlessly. he put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway smoothly, the truck pulling off into the dimly lit street.

you sat in silence for the entire ride, the awkwardness in the air more on your end than his. the trees blew by on the side of the road, the leaves appearing to be nothing but dark blurs as you observed them from the window. rafe was not sparse with the gas, each sharp, fast turn leaving you more anxious than the last.

you could feel rafe glance towards me every so often, steely eyes burning into the side of your face and leaving behind a warmth in your cheeks that couldn’t be shaken.

it was when he pulled in front of your dark house that he finally broke the silence, leaving a question that you weren’t quite sure how to answer hovering in the cool air of the truck.

“hey, y/n?” 

“yeah?” you didn’t turn to face him, choosing instead to watch the windows of your house for any signs of life.

he sat wordlessly for a few seconds and you could feel his eyes on you once again, much more intensely than the first few times on the road. you were afraid to look back at him, fully aware that you would become lost in them like you did when you first met him.

“why’d you stop calling?” he asked. 

you blinked at the reflection in the window, his question echoing in your head. turning to face him, his eyes locked onto yours. they refused to let go, gaze leaving you trapped under the spell that it casts upon you. 

gulping soundlessly, you wet your mouth with the saliva collecting underneath your tongue as you prepared an answer. it felt as if the words had been stolen from your throat the moment you exchanged looks. 

“why’d you stop answering?” you said after finding your voice.

the feelings repressed began to bubble to the surface the longer you two sat in the enclosed space. you felt breathless, confused, and angry. not only at him, but at yourself as well. 

you let yourself become attached when you shouldn’t have, and because of that you had to suffer repercussions of unrequited feelings. you were angry because he left you hanging for weeks, but you let him. he treated you like shit, but you let him. you were never supposed to catch feelings, but you let yourself. 

that’s why you’re angry.

even with all of that, your heart never failed to beat out of your chest when he was near you. rafe didn’t even need to put his hands on you to leave you breathless. you should hate him, especially with how he treated you, treated your sister and her friends–but you don’t. you can’t.

that’s why you’re confused.

“i was dealing with a lot. i’m sorry.”

“that’s not really an excuse, rafe.” your lips pursed at him before rubbing together, the clear lip gloss coating them acting as a lubricant to prevent friction between them. “you didn’t want to tell me what was wrong when i asked, so you don’t get to use that card.”

rafe puts the car into park before fully turning to you, the furrow of his brow intensifying as he squints. shaking his head slightly, he opens his mouth to speak.

“it didn’t have anything to do with you, though.” he said. “i didn’t wanna drag you into my shit because it was…it was a lot. it was a lot and you didn’t need to be involved.”

“okay, and that’s fine.” your eyes flickered over at the dashboard’s clock to check the time, the number rising with each minute into the night. you turned back to him. “what’s not fine is blowing me off for months and then asking me why i stopped calling. you didn’t care to answer the phone when i did.”

rafes hand rakes over his buzzed head, fingers running through the stubble that replaces the golden locks that once held its place. he pulls his lip in between his pearly white teeth as he nods at you, tongue peeking through as they part to make space for the pink muscle. 

“you’re right.” he doesn’t argue like he usually would, the sudden accountability taking you by surprise. “that was kinda fucked up, wasn’t it? you didn’t deserve that.”

“no, rafe. i didn’t.”

he nods his head again and leans back against the cool, tinted window. his lids are low as he looks across at you, the intensity of his gaze causing your heart to leave bruises on your ribs from how strongly it pounded. you could barely hear anything, blood rushing past your ears and every breath shakier than the last.

stepping out of the car, rafe makes his way over to the passenger side door. you watch curiously as he crosses the front of the car, the street lights shining down on his broad frame. you don’t move when he opens the door, nor when he looks between you and your seatbelt expectantly.

your brows raise at the man briefly before the ‘click’ of the seatbelt fills both your ears, hands removing the snug strap from across your chest. you take the hand that he offers to exit the car, glancing up at your house again before taking it. nobody seemed to be awake but you still didn’t want to risk anyone seeing us this close together.

“nobody’s gonna see, y/n . calm down.” rafe’s voice so close to your ear pulls your attention away from the property and back towards him standing before you. 

you stepped down from the truck with his aide, but he didn’t move even once your feet touch the ground. instead, his hands moved to grasp your waist and pull you closer. the move felt so familiar yet so strange, but you accepted it rather than pushing him away. 

the warmth of his palms against your bare skin was intensified by the jolts of electricity felt whenever we touched. you could tell he felt the way you shivered in response to his fingers just barely gripping the soft flesh beneath them, thumbs smoothing over in a back and forth motion.

“i’m sorry i ghosted you. i was an asshole for that, and you know what? i deserve whatever you feel towards me.” you say nothing, but don’t push him away either. he takes that as a sign to continue. “but i hope you find it in you to forgive me, because i–i miss you.”

you nearly snorted as he uttered the sentence.

“you miss me?” you repeated the words back to him. “you sure know how to show it.”

“yes, i miss you.” rafe’s hold intensifies for a moment before going back to its previous state. “when i saw you at the party tonight, i–i didn’t know how much i missed your face. i missed your smile, your smell. i missed having you close to me and being able to hold you like this…”

the sound of him inhaling strongly shook you, his eyes screwing shut as he took in the combination of your natural scent and the gourmand perfume you wore. his fingers twitched against your skin as he resisted the urge to dig them deep into the flesh like he always used to. his chest rose and fell intensely, all but able to see his blood pumping through his jugular. 

“god, i fucking miss you.”

“rafe…” you called his name softly but sternly to pull him out of his hypnotized state. his eyes open but they’re barely focused. you weren’t sure if his pupils were blown because of the high, or because of you. “i miss you, too.”

the stillness between us remains until you broke it, the voice in the back of your head reminding you of the months spent trying to get over him.

“i miss you, but i can’t do this again.” you sighed heavily. “you fucked me up for months, rafe, and i can’t let that happen again.”

“it won’t happen again. i promise.”

sou shook your head at his words, tongue poking out just enough to taste the vanilla flavor of the gloss coating your lips. 

“no–no, rafe. no promises.” you let your hands fall to rest on top of his, watching as the sudden contact makes him shiver just as much as it used to when he did it to you. “no feelings–i can’t do that again.”

you pushed him away gently and stepped to the side, unsure of if you’d regret the words about to leave your lips next.

“if you wanna fuck, then we can do that.” your bluntness catches him off guard, head jerking back at the directness of the words. you’d never spoken like that before, and it shocked you as well. “but the lovey-dovey shit that we used to do? no more of that.”

“what?” rafe looks at you in disbelief, the vulgar language leaving him stunned. it was a rarity that you cursed–at least around him–, let alone said something so…intense. “what is that supposed to mean? ‘no more lovey-dovey shit?’”

you shrugged and pushed past him fully, feet carrying your body a few yards away before turning back to speak. he looked thoroughly confused and a bit hurt, but not as hurt as he left you when he ghosted you with a million unanswered questions and just as many ignored phone calls.

“it means if you call me in the night-time, i might pick up.” your eyes scanned for his reaction to the words left echoing in your own head for a moment, the heat of his gaze reminding you of the reason you needed to escape into the house behind you to begin with. “just depends on what you’re on.”

rafe was left standing in the dark of the early morning, bewildered and alone. 

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx2 #obx1 #obx3 #obx fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine

[allthingseddie]

I Wanna Be Yours - Part One

Summary: You are best friends with single dad Eddie Munson and you are helping him raise his daughter because you are head over heels for both of them.

Part Two Here Part Three Here

You had been best friends with Eddie Munson for years. You guys met when you were preteens living in the same trailer park. He was a couple of years older than you but he was always good company. You had been inseparable ever since and you even make the joke that he failed his senior year twice so that he could graduate with you. You understood each other like no one else could. You both had troubled upbringings and bonded over your similar home lives. Where he was raised by his uncle Wayne, you were raised by your grandma. You really felt like he was one of the only people that truly understood you, so it was no wonder that you were head over heels in love with him since you were 17.

A few months after your high school graduation, you decided you would finally tell Eddie about your feelings for him. You two were close enough that if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, you were sure you could still be close friends, at least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked across the trailer park to his trailer. You entered and headed to his bedroom where you knocked on the door.

“What?!,” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Hey Eds, what’s the matter?,” You asked. You knew him like the back of your hand and you knew that even though his tone came off as rude, he was just stressed.

“You know this would only happen to me. I finally graduate high school. Finally. I think, fuck it, if I can do that, I can make it out of this town. We can leave and enjoy life. Travel. But no, god has a fucked up plan for my life,” He says, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his lips.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Jules is fucking pregnant Y/N. I slept with her all of one time and I fucking got her pregnant. I used protection I don’t understand how this happened.”

You knew that you now had a blank expression across your face. Eddie sat down on his bed and dropped his face into his hands. You stared at him and you knew you were completely fucked because all you wanted to do was comfort the guy you were totally in love with who got another girl pregnant. You sat down beside him and affectionately rubbed his arm with your hand.

“What if I suck at being a dad Y/N? What if I fuck the kid up like my dad fucked me up?,” He asks looking over at you.

“Eds, you are going to be a great dad. And I’ll always be there for you no matter what. I will help you that best that I can. You are way more of a man than your dad ever could be. I believe in you,” You respond. Eddie hugs you and you know that he’s crying. He’s scared and all you can do is be there for him.

Over the next few years, you kept true to your word like you always did. You stuck beside Eddie’s side and watched him become a great father to a beautiful little girl. You helped him wherever you could. Especially since Jules decided that she didn’t want the responsibly of being a parent herself. Eddie essentially had full custody of Halle himself. You and Eddie had decided to get an apartment together to help each other with the cost of moving out. He didn’t think that it was fair to raise a child in Waynes house, taking up yet more of his limited space, and you desperately wanted to be out of your grandmas house and have some independence. (Not to mention you were now in love with Eddie’s daughter as well as still being in love with him).

The three of you lived together in a 2 bedroom apartment. Eddie worked 2nd shift at the plant his uncle worked at making decent money, but a good chunk of it went to bills and Halle. You worked 1st shift as a teller at the local bank in Hawkins. Your schedules made it easier to take care of Halle together. When you got off of work, you would pick Halle up from the babysitters and take her home and feed her dinner and get her ready for the night. She would spend the morning with Eddie an he would drop her off at the babysitters on the way to work. To any outsider, it would look as if you were actually Halle’s mother and that you lived a simple domestic life, and you sometimes wished that was the truth.

Halle was 4 years old and she was a carbon copy of your best friend. He made you her godmother when she was born. You absolutely adored the little girl. She was funny and a total sweetheart. She could pull your heartstrings like no other person could, except for her dad. There were some complications to the arrangement you had with Eddie, however, which brought you to tonight. The last thing Eddie had on his mind since Halle was born was dating, so you decided to put yourself out there. You were dating Landon for a little over a month now and he was a nice enough guy. You had some similar interests and he was attractive. He had brought up coming over to your apartment and you quickly shot down the idea, which he didn’t question the first couple of times, but after a month of dating, he had a feeling you were hiding something from him.

You had finally told him about your living situation and how you were living with your male best friend and helping him raise his daughter and he didn’t see it as normal as you did. You always had this kind of luck when it came to dating and explaining your living arrangements to them. None of them could believe that you weren’t sleeping with Eddie.

“Theres just no way you could help raise someone’s daughter AND live with them with nothing in return. You have to be fucking him. ,” Landon had put it so plainly. You left his apartment right then and there and didn’t look back. You were now back at your apartment on the couch, drinking wine and watching shitty tv to try to distract yourself from your dwelling. You were dwelling on the fact that even though you did like Landon, part of the reason you got so upset is because you desperately wanted what he described. You hated that you couldn’t seem to move on from Eddie. You hated that you fell more in love with him every time you saw him with his daughter. You hated that he had you in a chokehold you couldn’t break free from, yet at the same time, you also didn’t want to break free from it. It was a vicious cycle you were going through lately. You would meet a guy, go on a few dates, and then once you break it off with them, you would realize that you never would have committed to them anyways and pity yourself.

Eddie was currently at his weekly dinner at Waynes house with Halle which you often also went to, but opted out of tonight since you had a date. You had planned out being out later than you were, so when Eddie came back at 8:30 carrying a sleeping Halle in his arms and saw you sitting on the couch alone drinking wine, he was surprised to say the least.

“Hey, what are you doing back already? I thought you were out with Lane tonight?,” Eddie asked quietly, laying Halle down on the loveseat carefully and giving you a puzzled look. Part of you thinks he always said your dates names wrong on purpose just to get under your skin.

“Landon. And nah that’s over. He was a loser,” You replied, taking another drink of wine and turning your attention back to the tv.

“I thought you really liked this one?,” Eddie asked sitting down beside you.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t even known him for that long. He let his true colors show tonight and I wasn’t impressed, so its over. I think I’m just gonna stop dating for a while.”

“Dating is for losers. Be single and boring with me,” Eddie replied and chuckled lightly.

“Sounds good to me,” You responded, smiling slightly at your best friend. Halle then stirred in her sleep and looked over at you.

“Y/N?,” She asked quietly, reaching out towards you. You place your glass on the table and go over to the loveseat where she was laying and pick her up and place her in your lap.

“Hey princess, I missed you,” You say cuddling the small girl.

“Missed you, too. Why didn’t you go to grandpas with us?,” She asks, rubbing the sleep out of her big brown eyes.

“Well, I promised to eat dinner with someone else, but can I tell you a secret?,” You ask, lowering your voice.

“Yeah,” She said with a smile.

“I would have much rather spent my night with you pretty girl,” You tell her, tickling her neck and she lets out a giggle in return. You lay your head back on the loveseat and cuddle with Halle until she falls back asleep. You are stroking her back when you start to drift off yourself. You are woken up when you feel Eddie gently picking her up off of you to take her to bed.

“You should go lay down in bed before you hurt your neck on the loveseat,” Eddie says to you, smiling down at you.

“Okay Eds,” You say. You stand up and follow him down the hallway and go into your own bedroom ,” Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” He says.

While asleep, you dream of the night Eddie told you he got Jules pregnant, instead you get to tell him that you love him first. He tells you he’s in love with you also and he asks you to raise his daughter with him and be her mom. You are enjoying the dream when you are woken up in the morning. You are woken up by movement on your bed. You open your eyes slowly and see Halle laying on her stomach beside you, looking down at you as you sleep.

“Good morning babygirl. What are you doing up?,” You ask looking at her.

“Daddy’s asleep and I want pancakes,” She responds.

“Mmmm, pancakes do sound pretty good,” You say. You pull her small body into yours and cuddle her and she giggles ,”Just five more minutes.”

“But I’m hungry nowwwww,” she slightly whines.

“Fine, but only for my favorite girl,” You tell her and kiss her forehead before sitting up. She hops off of your bed and runs to the kitchen. You slowly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen after her. You get out a pan and whip up some boxed pancake batter. You make enough pancakes and bacon for the three of you. You and Halle eat breakfast together and Eddie still hasn’t gotten out of bed. You were sure the smell of bacon would wake him up. Once you’re done eating, you look at Halle.

“Your dad sure is being lazy today,” You joke with her.

“We have to wake him up,” She states matter-o-factly.

“Do you want to play a joke on him with me?,” You ask smirking at the girl and she immediately giggles and says yes. You grab a now cool pancake and head to Eddie’s room with Halle following right behind you. She slowly opens the bedroom door and you see Eddie peacefully sleeping , slightly drooling onto his pillow. You think he looks beautiful like this and you almost feel bad that you’re about to ruin his peaceful slumber. You walk carefully through the bedroom and toss the pancake so it lands flatly across his face and startles him awake. Halle laughs loudly.

“Heyyy, what was that forrr?,” He asks whining.

“Get up lazy,” You say to him with a smirk on your face.

“Yeah get up lazy,” Halle mimics you.

“Is this a pancake?,” Eddie asks, holding it out in front of his half closed eyes and examining it.

“Yes it is. At your daughters request,” You respond.

“Aww you had pancakes without me?,” He says.

“We made some for you, too lazy,” You say.

“Yeah lazy,” Halle says again.

“Hey, that’s daddy to you little missy,” He says grabbing Halle and pulling her into him and tickling her. She shrieks out a laugh. Eddie lets up on her and takes a bite of the pancake that you threw at his face.

“Did you make bacon?,” Eddie asks looking at you hopefully.

“Duh. Who would I be if I made pancakes without bacon?,” You respond and smile back at him.

“Definitely not my favorite adult anymore,” He teases and stands up. The three of you make your way out of his bedroom and back into the kitchen. You pour Eddie a cup of coffee and refresh your own while he heats up his pancakes and bacon and then sits down to eat. You hand him his cup and sit down at the table with him.

“What should we do today Halle?,” You ask her.

“Play dress up and fashion show,” Halle says and steals a piece of her dads bacon. That meant that she wanted you to do her makeup and put on her princess dresses so she could model in her oversized childrens high heels for you and Eddie and you couldn’t be happier to do that.

“Sounds like a plan, stan,” You say.

“Who’s Stan?,” Halle asked, confused.

“I’m sorry, is that not your name?,” You tease the girl. She laughs at you.

“No, my name is Halle,” She responds laughing.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I spent all this time thinking your name was Stan,” You smile widely at the girl and she returns the smile.

“Do you want to play dress up and fashion show with us daddy?,” Halle asks Eddie.

“Ill be a judge at the fashion show, I’m not letting you two trick me into wearing makeup again,” Eddie says taking a drink of his coffee and narrowing his eyes at you. You chuckle at him, remembering when you conned him into letting you do his makeup and hair and forcing him to walk down the ‘runway’ as you and Halle rated his walk.

“Robin is coming over later to hang out for a little bit,” You say to the two of them. You had been close with Robin for a while as you two were in marching band together. She was your closest friend other than Eddie.

“Will Robin play dress up and fashion show with us?,” Halle asks.

“I’m sure she will for a little bit,” You respond and she smiles widely. You spend the morning catching up on some of your laundry for work and doing some household chores. Then it was time for the infamous dress up and fashion show. You used your bedroom as the dressing room. You carefully put some light makeup on Halle and helped her braid her curly hair. She put on a pink princess dress and some plastic childrens high heels and walked out of your bedroom and down the runway (hallway) out to the living room to model for her dad.

“9.8 out of 10,” Eddie says with a smile on his face. He used to give her a 10/10 every time, but she got bored with the same answer every time so now he would switch it up to keep her happy. Halle came back to your room and this time changed into a green princess dress and the same high heels. She walked back out to the living room to get Eddie’s rating for this outfit.

“11 out of 10,” Eddie says.

“Daddy, 11 is more than 10,” Halle says with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Well you are smarter than me, so I’ll take your word for it. 9.98 out of 10,” Eddie’s responds. There’s a knock at the door and Halle goes over to answer it and finds Robin.

“Ohh wow, that a 10 out of 10 look right there,” Robin says entering the apartment and Halle hugs her legs.

“Thank you,” Halle says with a bright smile.

“How come she can give you a 10 out of 10 but I can’t?,” Eddie asks.

“Cause daddy, you said it every time,” Halle says. Eddie holds his hands up defensively. Robin makes her way to your bedroom and sits down on the end of your bed.

“Hey what have you been up to?,” Robin asks taking off her jacket. Halle runs back into the room this time with an old Halloween costume.

“I want this dress now,” She says holding it out to you. You help her put on the witches dress with the matching hat and she makes her way back out to the hallway.

“Not much. I ended things with Landon last night,” You reply.

“What was wrong with him?,” Robin asks curiously.

“He got mad when I told him about my living situation. Said there was no way I could live with a man without having sex with him,” you respond.

“Oh you most definitely can. I live with Steve and I don’t have sex with him,” Robin says.

“Robs, you’re not attracted to men, that doesn’t really count,” You respond.

“Oh so you’re admitting you want to have sex with Eddie then?,” Robin asks with a smirk. A blush washes over your face and you roll your eyes.

“C’mon Y/N, I know you’re in love with him,” Robin states.

“You’re in love? Like in a fairytale?,” Halle asks coming back into the room and you shoot daggers at Robin.

“Robin doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” You say helping Halle change into her next outfit. Eddie walks into your room.

“Daddy! Y/N is in love like in a fairytale!,” Halle says excitedly.

“Oh is she now? You have a change of heart about Brandon?,” Eddie asks.

“Landon. And no. Robin is just assuming things,” You respond.

“Who’s Brandon?,” Halle asks.

“No one important Hals,” You say to her.

“So who’s the lucky guy then?,” Eddie asks teasing you.

“My lord and savior Jesus Christ,” You deadpan and Eddie chuckles.

“I’m actually gonna take our single friend out tonight to meet the love of her life,” Robin says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair.

“Robs, its Sunday. Where am I going to meet the love of my life?,” You look at her.

“I don’t know, church?,” She shrugs her shoulders and Eddie laughs again.

“Okay well you kids have fun,” Eddie says chuckling, grabbing Halles hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m only 2 years younger than you!,” You shout after him and he laughs again. You fall back onto your bed and sigh dramatically.

“C’mon Y/N, come out with me, it’ll be fun. We can get a drink or two and mingle. I’ll be your wingwoman,” Robin says.

“I’m swearing off dating for a while,” you respond with your eyes closed.

“Why, because you don’t have the balls to tell the man you want to date your feelings for him?,” Robin asks. You stand up from your bed and change into an outfit to go out with Robin in.

“You know what, I’ll go out with you just so you stop accusing me of being in love with him,” you say.

“Hah! I got my way,” Robin responds with a shit eating grin on her face. You finish getting ready and both leave the apartment. You decide to go to a local bar. When you get there, you order a mojito and Robin orders a double-shot of jack and coke. You both sit at the bar for a while and make small talk.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?,” A guy that appears to be in his mid to late twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes comes up to you and asks.

“No thank you, I have my one for the night. Thank you though!,” you respond and turn back to Robin.

“Y/N what the hell! I didn’t even have to be your wingwoman he just came up to you and you totally shut him down,” Robin exclaims.

“I could tell I wasn’t interested,” You respond.

“Why cuz he’s not Eddie?,” Robin asks.

“Yeah pretty fucking much!,” You say and lay your head on your arm ,” I am so pathetic. I’ve been in love with that man since I was 17 and now I’m 23. That’s 6 years Robin. Six fucking years and he has no interest in dating. What am I doing?,” You asking, taking a swig of your drink and looking at her.

“I finally got you to admit it!,” Robin says excitedly.

“Yeah well you bring it up every time were together so you wore me down. Happy?,” You ask.

“Well now we gotta figure out how to get you two together,” Robin replies.

“Robin, I’ve known him for forever. Don’t you think if he was attracted to me at all I would have any sort of indication?,” You respond rhetorically.

“No because love makes you blind. What about the fact that he never says the right names for the guys you date?,” Robin says.

“What about it? He has smoked a lot of weed in his life, it can fuck with your memory,” You reply.

“He does it on purpose because he doesn’t like any guy you date,” Robin says.

“He’s never met the guys I date,” You respond.

“And why do you think that is? Because you don’t care about the guys you date as much as you do Eddie. You wont even let them come to your apartment because you don’t want to have a serious relationship because you’re in love with him. And I think he has feelings for you, too,” Robins says.

“And what makes you ‘think’ that?,” You ask and roll your eyes.

“The way he looks at you. Especially the way he looks at you when you’re with Halle,” Robin says.

“Robs that not proof. Unless Eddie has come up to you and said ‘Robin, I have feelings for Y/N’, you have no solid proof for me to go on to ruin my friendship with him,” You respond.

“I’ll get it out of him just like I did you. I’ll have Steve help me wear him down,” Robin responds.

“Oh yeah that’s real comforting, wearing someone down to admit feelings,” You respond.

“Well, it worked with you did it not?,” Robin says.

“Fine, you can try all you want, but I guarantee he does not feel the same way,” You respond finishing your drink.

“Okay ms grumpy pants,” Robin says. You leave the bar and head home to finish your laundry and do the rest of your tasks to get ready for the workweek. You drift off to sleep daydreaming about Eddie confessing his feelings for you and and kissing his soft lips with yours finally.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie

[seakicker]

☆ My Next-Door Neighbor is an Annoying Older Woman Who Constantly Bothers Me

☆ between: college au!scaramouche x milf!reader

☆ synopsis: scaramouche insists he doesn’t want to fuck the milf living next door, but all his friends think he doth protest too much.

☆ word count: 10.5K words

☆ a/n: like with my venti x milf!reader fic over on ao3, this is supposed to give a sort of doujinshi vibe, hence the embarrassing title and the lunacy of some ideas like milf!reader going outside in a super sheer shirt. hopefully you feel the doujinshi vibe i was going for as i have a lot of fun trying to replicate the style, themes, and flow of doujinshis using only text!

☆ contents: fem + plus-sized reader (reader is explicitly described as chubby, busty, and taller than scaramouche), age gap obviously; scaramouche is a senior in college and reader is in her early 40s, degradation, a couple insults (such as scaramouche calling you a hag/loose/etc.), degradation, exhibitionism (scaramouche fucks you in front of a glass sliding door), sexual frustration, and unprotected sex + scaramouche pulls out

also posted to ao3 with the same title and under the same username!

Scaramouche has a problem.

Well, a problem slightly more irritating than the approximately nine hundred other problems he deals with on a daily basis. These issues include, but are not limited to, the consistent problems he has with the hot water heater in his apartment, his obnoxious group project teammate Ajax who insisted upon being the group’s leader despite his complete and utter lack of intellect, his annoying circle of friends that always seem to find ways to poke their noses into Scaramouche’s business, his frustratingly-dull history professor that always goes off on tangents completely unrelated to the class’ subject matter… and so on and so forth. It’s one issue after another; there’s always something when it comes to Scaramouche.

A matter more pressing than all of those other nine hundred issues put together, however, comes in the form of his next-door neighbor— you.

You’re a divorced woman in your early forties who lives by herself, works during the daytime while Scaramouche is on campus, and always seems to leave and return home at the same times he does. He moved in next door to you a few months ago at the start of his junior year, but you’ve never really gotten the chance to get to know him beyond the curt responses he gives you when you ask how he’s doing or what he did over the weekend. His coldness towards you doesn’t make too much sense— have you somehow offended him without knowing? You like to consider yourself a good neighbor: you don’t party (like a woman your age would ever do such a thing), you don’t blast loud music long into the night (or at all), you take good care of your things and avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche or your other neighbors, and you’re very, very tidy. When you’re in the mood to brag a little, you’ll say that you have the nicest balcony in the entire apartment complex.

…Avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche, huh? He’d beg to differ.

If Scaramouche has nine hundred problems in his life, then maybe it’d be more accurate to claim that you’re the cause of at least seven hundred of those problems rather than claiming that you’re one single, self-contained issue separate from all of those other problems. Maybe it’s the way you insist upon butting your way into his life and, in what must be your way of expressing it, “taking care” of him that irritates him more than anything else. Really, if he had to sum up your advances in one word, he’d have to go with aggravating.

At first, he bitterly wondered if you’re just some senile old hag using him as a replacement for your son, who’s surely moved out by now given your age. All you are is a woman looking to cure her empty nest syndrome by doting on someone her son’s age according to Scaramouche— he viewed your kindness as underhanded and delusional because he can take care of himself, you know. He’s an adult man living on his own; he knows how to navigate the trials and tribulations of young adulthood without some old lady insisting upon knocking on his door and gifting him home-cooked meals, bringing up his mail from the first-floor mailroom, or helping him with chores where you can. It’s not like Scaramouche would ever let you into his apartment, but that hasn’t stopped you from finding ways to help outside by sweeping outside his front door or washing the outside of his front window while he’s not home.

Okay, maybe it’s a little creepy to wash your neighbor’s windows without him asking you to help out, but it’s not like he’s going to do it. You would know— you had once waited a week to see if he’d clean up a spilled drink stain on the walkway in front of his door. As you expected, he never got around to it, so you happily cleaned it up on his behalf. Cleaning up for him doesn’t really put you out of your way either— whenever you sweep his doorway, it’s because you were already outside tidying up in front of your place; why not help out your neighbor in the process?

When you bring him meals you prepared yourself, it’s out of the goodness of your heart and because you can’t help but worry about a college boy’s diet— fast food, pizza, frozen microwave meals, and instant ramen don’t have all the nutrients a hardworking man needs. When you bring him his mail, it’s because he has a tendency to forget about it until his mailbox is, quite literally, overflowing. Whereas you check your mailbox every single day, Scaramouche seems to forget about his until the end of the week, which is certainly no way to live— what if he misses an important bill or notice? As a result, you took it upon yourself to check his mailbox for him whenever you go to retrieve your own mail.

Again, maybe it’s a little creepy to gather your neighbor’s mail, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone, right? You certainly don’t root through his mail or open any of it. Even though Scaramouche rolls his eyes and mumbles a halfhearted little “thanks” every time you hand him his mail, he doesn’t really seem to mind. Despite his initial reluctance to accept any of it, he still eats the food you prepare for him if the empty containers he returns to you a few days later are any indication of that fact. You figure maybe he’s just a little shy or tired from his long day on campus— it does your heart well to know that he’s working so very hard.

On the flip side of things, Scaramouche considers your… activities a total inconvenience. He’ll admit that your meals taste very good— though he’d never say it to your face— but he doesn’t like feeling indebted to you or thinking that he owes you something even though you’ve told him multiple times that your favors don’t need any payback. You’re just happy to cook for someone other than yourself, you had told him once, confirming Scaramouche’s suspicion that you live alone. It’s not his fault you’re bored enough to make food for someone you barely know, so do you have to rope him into your wiles? He already has groceries and though he doesn’t really know how to cook, what’s wrong with having a bowl of cereal for dinner? It’s none of your business, is it?

Between your constant insistence on involving yourself in his life and the fact that he’s never seen anyone else leaving or entering your apartment, Scaramouche was able to correctly guess that you live alone… a realization that can’t help but annoy him. He figures that if you had someone, anyone else in your life like a spouse or another child living with you, you’d stop pestering him and stick to involving yourself in the lives of your family instead of your neighbor.

Would a pet do? Should he find some stray kitten and leave it on your doorstep? Is that what it’d take to make you mind your own business?

“Hey, Kuni, tell me about your little neighbor lady again,” Venti coos, accidentally knocking over his—thankfully— empty beer bottle when he leans forward to grab his phone. He’s drunk, but that barely makes a difference; he’d still make this request sober.

Glowering around the mouth of his own bottle, Scaramouche rolls his eyes in Venti’s general direction. “Why? If you want to know that hag so badly, go talk to her yourself.”

Venti busts out laughing, an action that his drunken body clearly can’t handle seeing as he falls sideways into Aether’s shoulder, making the latter grimace in response. Venti’s already a handful sober, but when he drinks… it takes the entire friend group to get him home and/or in bed safely. “Don’t threaten me with that, ‘cuz I really will do it— I’ll go steal your hot older girlfriend.”

Glaring up at him from his spot on the rug, Scaramouche has half a mind to shove that empty beer bottle into Venti’s eye for suggesting such a thing. Hey, wait a minute— why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor when this is his damn apartment?

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” he barks, turning to direct his glare at Kazuha too when he hears him chuckle.

“The more you deny it, the less convincing you are— you talk about her all the time, so I’m inclined to believe you really are dating,” Venti chirps, reaching for a bottle of beer that is most certainly not his.

“That’s mine,” Aether protests, watching as Venti takes a sip from his bottle anyways.

“Oops, my bad.” He doesn’t sound sincere.

“Well… get me another whenever you stand up.”

Venti waves his hand dismissively before redirecting his attention back to the more important matter at hand— Scaramouche’s complete and utter inability to just admit that he has the hots for his hot MILF of a neighbor and that any protest otherwise is a feeble attempt at hiding the truth.

“They say you’re attracted to things that make you mad,” Venti says. “…Cuteness aggression. Yeah. I saw a video about it once.”

“That’s not what cuteness aggression is, and ‘they’ say that you attract the things you fear,” Kazuha corrects him from his spot in the nearby armchair— again, why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor?— before he goes to take another hit off his blunt.

Venti repeats what Kazuha said in a nasally voice in an attempt to mock him, but the gesture only makes Kazuha chuckle again. It’ll be hard to draw any response more eloquent than a single laugh or a sigh out of him for the rest of the night— it’s a very, very stark difference from how he usually is.

“Why the fuck do I ever invite any of you over here?” Scaramouche sighs, taking a long swig from his own bottle. He doesn’t even really like the taste; it’s something Venti found on sale and decided to bring over, but Scaramouche has decided it’s better than spending his Friday night sober. Besides, it’ll take at least four more of these to deal with the impending conversation that he’s been trying so hard to pivot away from since Venti first brought it up.

“Because we’re best friends forever, next question. Why do you deny how much you wanna fuck your sexy neighbor, Kuni?” Venti asks again, pouting when Aether snatches the bottle Venti stole from him. “It’s super obvious. Xiao and Heizou agree with me, and I’m not just saying that because they’re not here tonight and can’t contest me on it. It’s true.”

Kazuha nods, and Aether simply shrugs. Christ alive, do they all think the same thing?

“And why on Earth do I— in theory— want to fuck her? She’s probably loose or something,” Scaramouche argues.

Venti busts out laughing again.

“It’s the opposite, really,” he starts, glancing between Aether and Kazuha when neither of them laugh along with him. “What, have you guys seriously never been with an older lady? They’re the best; the reason I know Kuni wants to get with that lady next door is because I got with the lady next door to me a couple months ago. It takes one to know one, or something. Trust me, Kuni, I know what you’re going through and we are seriously gonna get through this together.” Why is he making it sound like a relative died or something?

“They’re experienced,” Venti sighs longingly, blindly reaching out again for the bottle Aether’s holding, who moves it further away and out of Venti’s reach. “They feel really, really good. They actually know what they’re doing… sometimes the girls—and guys, mind you, I’ve gotten with plenty of both— our age clearly don’t know they’re supposed to be doing, but getting with somebody’s mom…”

“You’re gross!” Aether gasps, though his pink cheeks tell a different story.

“Not as gross as the guy who’s told us the same story about seeing his neighbor lady braless like four times now,” Venti replies, glancing over at Scaramouche with a grin. “Really left an impression on you, huh, Kuni?”

Just like that, Scaramouche finds himself instantly reminded of, well, the time he saw you braless first thing in the morning. A few months ago on some random Saturday morning, Scaramouche was out smoking a cigarette on his porch when you stepped outside to water the plants you keep on your balcony. There were so many of them: a small tomato plant, a pot overflowing with basil that you took to trimming after you finished watering everything, a couple of hanging baskets field with flowers, and a few other vegetable plants and potted succulents. More glaringly obvious than the abundance of plants occupying your balcony was your complete and utter shamelessness— even a quick glance in your direction was enough to draw Scaramouche’s attention to the distractingly sheer fabric of your white camisole.

It’s not like Scaramouche was actively staring at your tits— really, he wasn’t, he swears— because anyone would notice something that egregious. The low, low sweep of your camisole around your ample bust, your nipples beading up against the thin fabric, the constant fucking movement of the top as you shifted and bent over to water the plants sitting on the ground, moved, and walked, all of it. He complained to his friends about your complete and utter shamelessness— What kind of woman steps outside practically naked? he spat, much to the amusement of Venti, who had said that wearing a thin shirt does not, in fact, make one naked.

Worst of all, you had actually fucking caught Scaramouche staring, an action that made you grin wickedly and run your hands down the sides of your soft, plump body as if to try and draw his eyes down along with your hands. Instead, Scaramouche had only whipped his head to the other side, busying himself with tapping the ash off his cigarette as if it were the most important task he’d ever complete in his life. Jesus Christ, he was only staring because he couldn’t believe you’d be so shameless as to wear something like that outside, not because he was genuinely aroused by how low your camisole sat on your chest, how big your tits are, how soft they look…

He thinks he shuddered then, and he insisted to his friends that it was because of a sudden chilly breeze and absolutely nothing more. It was either that or because he was just so shocked by your display that a shiver went down his spine— he can’t even remember the exact reason he gave anymore.

Either way, none of them really believed him.

“Ah, he seems distracted,” Kazuha notes simply, raising a hand to point at Scaramouche before grinning. His words pull Scaramouche from his little daydream, and he groans at the realization that, yes, he spaced out remembering yet another instance of your abhorrent shamelessness and perversion.

“Spaced out thinking about cute MILF boobs, I get it,” Venti affirms, nodding. “Nobody gets that more than me. Not only that, but you’ve also, uh, ‘complained’ to us about seeing her in her swimsuit. Really, Kuni, it’s like you’re biding your time and waiting for her to take her clothes off so you can tell us about it.”

…That’s a story for another time. Scaramouche has had enough of thinking about you for one day; it’s bad enough that you brought him his mail today just mere moments before Venti, Kazuha, and Aether arrived to hang out— what if they saw you?— but to be reminded of the image of your tits underneath that pathetic excuse for a top…

He shakes his head and takes a long, long sip from his bottle.

“And they’re so soft, Kuni,” Venti says, slumping over further into Aether for support. “They feel like absolutely nothing else. I feel like firmness or perkiness or whatever is really, really overrated— the softness of a cute MILF’s boobs is unrivaled!”

“Can you not say things like that right into my ear?” Aether mumbles bashfully, making Venti laugh.

“Why? Am I gonna put the mental image of MILF boobs in your brain, too? Are we gonna become an entire friend group full of MILF chasers? That’d be hilarous. I already know about Xiao’s little crush on his English professor.”

Jesus, Scaramouche has got to steer this conversation somewhere else or he’ll go mad. “Anyways,” he beings, “Where is that pizza you ordered ages ago?”

“I thought Kazuha was taking care of it,” Aether remarks, glancing over at him. Kazuha goes to reply, but nothing comes out— yep, he’s gone for the night. He won’t be able to get out any more than four words max until morning.

As if the universe heard their request, the doorbell rings to signify the arrival of dinner. Before Scaramouche can go to pull himself up off the floor—he really should make Venti move; it’s his couch in his apartment— Venti’s already in the process of skipping towards the door. Aether takes the opportunity to kick his feet up over the other couch cushion, making Scaramouche wonder if the three of them formed some secret pact to ensure that he stays on the floor the entire evening.

However, what stands on the other side of the door is not, in fact, the pizza delivery boy. It’s you, aluminum foil-covered glass casserole dish in hand, leading Scaramouche to believe that while the universe did hear their request for food, the devil answered by sending you to his doorstep while he has three of his friends over.

“Oh! You’re not the pizza guy,” Venti beams, putting on his best ‘polite’ voice possible. Scaramouche groans and looks over towards his other two friends just so he doesn’t accidentally make eye contact with you, but neither Aether nor Kazuha look back at him. They’re looking at you.

Christ, he’ll never live this down. Not only do they know who you are, they now know what you look like.

“I’m not,” you giggle. “I live next door; I bring food to Scaramouche sometimes whenever I get a little too excited in the kitchen and make too much. I can’t eat the leftovers fast enough before they go bad, and I would hate to waste food, you know?”

“You can call him Kuni,” Venti offers. “We all do. It’s less of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

Scaramouche decides that Venti will be leaving his apartment in a body bag tonight.

His cheeks burn with equal parts humiliation and anger, and the realization that his friends’ teasing is only about to get worse now that they know who you are and what you look like more than motivates Scaramouche to devise a plot to kill the three of them.

After introducing yourself to Venti, he smiles and replies that “the pleasure is all his” when you tell him it’s nice to meet some of Scaramouche’s friends. Venti has half a mind to invite you inside for a moment, but he decides that’d be unnecessary— he figures he’s already done more than enough to inspire Scaramouche into action. If Scaramouche won’t act on his feelings himself, then maybe a little shove from his friends will help him along.

“That’s sweet of you!” Venti praises, taking the dish from your hands. “I’m glad Kuni’s eating properly these days. One time, he told us that the only thing he survived off of during finals week was a sleeve of Saltines and some peanut butter. You’re so kind, miss.”

You giggle sheepishly, a sound that Scaramouche would like to claim grates his ears. Miss? Can’t Venti see that you’re, well, old? “Well, I’m glad that he has such kind friends to support him. You all take care, okay? You too, Scara— Kuni!” You call out past Venti’s shoulder, making both Aether and Kazuha chuckle.

After bidding farewell to the four in what has to be the most mortifying moment of Scaramouche’s entire life, you leave, allowing Venti to close the door behind you and make his way back to the others. “Those boobs are huge,” he sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling. “If I got suffocated between those, I would die a fully satisfied man.”

“Then go die,” Scaramouche mutters in agreement, cheeks still burning with humiliation. Why does the universe insist upon tormenting him so?

Eyeing the dish in Venti’s hands, Aether pipes up too “She cooks for you? Kuni, you have it so good.”

Scaramouche is amazed that, after all this time, his friends still find it in them to be jealous of him despite all of his attempts at framing you as annoying, invasive, and overbearing. Can’t they see that you’re doing this on purpose?! Scaramouche has half a mind to wonder if you’re psychic— what other explanation is there for your obnoxiously perfect timing? He asks about food and suddenly you appear on his doorstep, dish in hand as if you had heard him through the walls. There’s no way they’re that thin, are they?

Venti moves to set the dish down on the kitchen countertop before turning around to look Scaramouche square in the eye. “Kuni, I’m saying this because I respect you as my longtime friend,” he asserts, tone and gaze both deathly serious in a way that’s genuinely almost out of character for someone as flippant and carefree as Venti. “But you better fuck that lady the first chance you get because, if you don’t, I’m taking her for myself.” That should do it.

Scowling in response, Scaramouche crosses his arms over his chest and sighs bitterly. “Why would I stop you? I don’t care what you do with her. For the last fucking time, I’m not into her.” Despite his words, Scaramouche can’t deny that there’s something… unsettling about the idea of Venti getting with you. Does he really want to watch his friend take four A.M. booty calls in order to fuck the woman living right next door to him? Can Scaramouche truly stomach the idea of his friend fucking the brains out of someone just a few walls away from where he lives? It’s hard to put his finger on why, but something about Venti getting with Scaramouche’s neighbor, despite his insistence that there truly is nothing between the two of them, really, really irks him.

Well, it’s probably just because a lot of Venti’s behavior tends to irritate Scaramouche in the first place, right? Yeah, it’s probably just that. He doesn’t need to hear every last gritty detail of his friend’s sexual trysts.

That characteristically smug grin of his finds its way back to Venti’s face as he reaches over Aether’s shoulder and snatches his beer bottle again. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. How about we forget the pizza and eat what she brought over?”

“Oh, I see now,” Kazuha interjects after having been silent for the past twenty minutes. He turns his phone around to show Scaramouche, Venti, and Aether the check-out screen on the pizza chain’s website. “It seems I failed actually submit the order; it was still waiting for me to pay.”

Scaramouche doesn’t have a hangover the next morning, a blessing he owes to the fact that he only ended up drinking two beers last night. He probably would’ve consumed more if he had the chance to, but Venti blew through the rest of the box quicker than the other three could try to stop him. It took both Kazuha and Aether supporting Venti’s hardly-conscious body to get him down the stairs to the parking lot so they can drive him home— there’s no way Venti would be able to safely get himself home amidst such an awful hangover.

As he pokes through his apartment scooping up empty beer bottles and stained paper plates to toss into a trash bag, the glass casserole dish sitting out on the kitchen counter catches Scaramouche’s eye. Save for a few scraps shoved into the rounded corners of the pan, it’s practically been picked clean— the four boys tore through it easily with Venti, Kazuha, and Aether all fawning over just how good a home-cooked meal tastes after months of campus cafeteria food, fast food, and instant ramen. Venti mentioned that there’s just something about a MILF’s cooking that makes it so much better, leading to a conversation about how, in Venti’s educated opinion, older women just do everything better: sex, cooking, cleaning, caretaking, all of it.

Scaramouche scoffs at the memory. “She’s nothing special,” he mutters to himself, still failing to understand Venti’s obsession with somebody he’s never even met until last night. Scaramouche is the one who’s actually been living next door to her for months now— as his friends know by now, he has plenty more to say about her than Venti does.

Shouldn’t he be the one to comment on things like the size of your bust, the softness of your legs, the plumpness of your ass and belly, and the flavor of your cooking? He’s the one who’s actually seen you lounging in tiny string bikinis by the apartment complex’s pool, watering the plants out on your balcony in a pair of shorts that certainly break publicly decency laws, and retrieving your mail in a shirt so thin he can make out the little bumps of your nipples up against the fabric.

“Christ, what am I thinking?” Scaramouche stops himself and second-guesses whether or not he’s actually hungover. There’s no way his sober mind would drift to thoughts of you, right? Clearly something must be wrong with him— he blames Venti for putting all these thoughts in his head with his never-ending discussion of what makes older women so utterly sexy.

He’s then reminded of what Venti told him right before they all sat down to eat your cooking: that if Scaramouche won’t hurry up and fuck his neighbor, Venti will do it for him. Even now, the idea still bothers him for reasons he just can’t quite put his finger on— Venti’s been with tons and tons of people; why does he want Scaramouche’s neighbor too? Can’t Venti see how awkward that would be?

Setting the trash bag down on the floor, Scaramouche takes to the sink to wash out the casserole dish you brought over for them last night. His mind concocts disgustingly vivid images of you as he scrubs at a particularly stubborn piece of dried cheese, and maybe he’d be shocked by how little effort he’s putting into warding those thoughts away if he weren’t so utterly immersed in them. His mind conjures up the image of you in that tiny black bikini he saw you wearing by the pool while he was out smoking on his balcony— he remembers the little number being so small that you had to readjust it every single time you simply sat up or lied down because every last motion was enough to threaten a nipslip. It makes him wonder if you dress like that on purpose or because you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that clothes and swimsuits you used to wear still fit you despite clear evidence otherwise— are you actively vying for the attention of any man who’ll give it to you, or are you brainless enough to throw something on without caring about how poorly or not it fits?

It’s probably a mix of both; you’re just that shameless.

Scaramouche grits his teeth at the mental image of you straddling him while adorned in that tiny little bikini that seems to only get tinier and tinier the longer he allows his imagination to run wild. Of all the fucking things to imagine you doing…

He pictures what you’d look like with your thick, plump thighs enveloping either side of his hips as you run your hands up and down your ample chest and soft stomach. God, he can see it all now: the little bumps of your nipples beading up against the thin fabric of your swimsuit, the soft hang of your tummy spilling over the tiny, flimsy string keeping your bottoms secured around your wide hips, the way your tits would bounce as you ride him…

“Something’s wrong with me,” he grumbles, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. The clump of cheese he’d been scraping at finally separates from the pan, and he realizes that if he wants to rid you from his mind for good, he should take matters into his own hands before Venti does.

No, wait, this has nothing to do with Venti— this isn’t about staking claim over you before any of his friends can, this is solely about him finding ways to release the grip you have on him as if you’re some kind of wicked succubus. Scaramouche glances downwards after setting the dish aside to dry and, much to his chagrin, finds that the mere thought of you was enough to fucking get him hard. The eager press of his cock against the confines of his briefs moritifies him solely because of the very reason why he’s like this in the first place; how the fuck did the thought of you in a bikini so tiny your areolas peek around the sides reduce him to such a state? He’d like to believe that he’s only this hard because it’s been a while since he’s jerked off, but that would be an excuse less believable than any of the ones he’s ever given his friends.

He knows that he’s too dignified to jerk off to the thought of you— if he’s feeling horny, then surely he can find things more deserving of his attention than some hag next door. He refuses to give you that kind of satisfaction (despite the fact that you’d never even know unless he told you, so how could you be smug about it?), so he decides that an ice-cold shower is in order before venturing out to settle things with you.

After a shower so cold Scaramouche swears he saw his fingers begin to turn purple, he dries off, gets dressed in something other than the clothes he fell asleep in last night, grabs your clean casserole dish, and leaves to go to the one place he wouldn’t have ever imagined himself stepping foot in— your apartment. If this is what it takes to sever the connection between you and his mind…

God, this is going to be annoying, Scaramouche thinks as he knocks on your door using his foot, casserole dish supported safely by both of his hands. He feels the need to steel himself because he just knows you’ll answer the door in something sheer, skimpy, or some combination of the two and he needs to be ready for that.

Why? Are you hoping for that to happen, Kuni? Venti’s voice whispers from the back of Scaramouche’s mind.

He really is losing it.

“Good morning— oh, Kuni! This is a surprise,” you greet him upon opening the door, flashing him a smile so bright it nearly makes him cringe. Can you spare him the pleasantries so he can just get to the point?

Fucking Venti— why teach her that nickname? Turning his head to look at a faraway bird instead of you, Scaramouche scoffs. “I need to talk to you.” Straight to the point, emotionless, and rude, it’s all so in-character for your neighbor that you can’t help but giggle.

You grin wider. “Of course. Come in; I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

Scaramouche waits until you’re a good few steps ahead of him before following you inside, glancing around the living room of your apartment as he makes his way to the kitchen table. Your apartment’s clean, impeccably so at that— every book on your bookshelf faces the same direction, the blanket draped over the back of your couch doesn’t have a single crease, and he can’t see even an ounce of dust on any inch of your tables and countertops.

He snorts a little. Rather than viewing the cleanliness as impressive or inspiring, he bitterly interprets it as a testament to your overabundance of free time and lack of other hobbies or pastimes.

“I’m not sure how strong you like your coffee, so I’ll just make it how I normally do,” you pipe up from the kitchen, pulling Scaramouche away from scrutinizing the titles of the books on your shelf. Restless Summer Nights? The Devil’s Mistress? They all sound like bargain bin erotica novels.

It was a mistake to direct his attention away from your novels and to you instead, he figures, because only now does he get a look at what you’re wearing— if one could even call that clothing. You’re dressed in something he wants to call a workout outfit, but anyone leaving the house in an outfit like that surely has goals other than simply exercising— they want to attract attention. A sports bra that sits so low on your chest that a single bounce on an exercise ball would expose you combines with a pair of spandex leggings so tight they reveal the lines of your panties to comprise your “workout outfit,” and to say that Scaramouche is mortified would be an understatement. He can’t help but find the combination of your manner of dress and your collection of novels completely pathetic.

And despite his apparent disgust… he’s been staring at you long enough to pick up the most minute details about your outfit. The indifferent passerby likely wouldn’t notice your pantylines— a certain amount of staring is required to actually notice them; they’re really not obvious from a quick glance. Actually, why can’t he stop looking at you? He writes it off as a simple morbid curiosity at how someone can be so completely and utterly shameless— one could almost liken his sick, cynical fascination with your ample curves and soft body to rubbernecking.

Scaramouche instead stares down into the cup of coffee you’ve set in front of him like it’s the most fascinating object in the entire world. He’s half-inclined to just close his eyes entirely, seeing as the slightest glimpse of your bust still occupies the uppermost part of his peripheral eyesight when you sit down in the chair opposite of him.

“So,” you start, sliding a porcelain dish with a small bowl of sugar cubes and a saucer of creamer his way. “What can I help you with? It’s rare for you to talk to me first, Kuni.”

He adds “drop that nickname” to his mental list of topics to bring up with you. Scaramouche plucks a few sugar cubes from the bowl before him and drops them into his coffee before absentmindedly stirring the liquid with a serving spoon.

“Last night,” He clears his throat. “Why did you come over to talk to V— to my friends?” Why are you always in my business? he really wants to ask, but he feels like you’ll start crying if he presses you too firmly.

And that’d just be obnoxious.

You giggle. “That makes it sound like I came over on purpose because I knew you had people over, and that’s not true. Haven’t we been in the habit of food delivery and acceptance for months now?” Scaramouche’s eyes follow yours to the squeaky-clean casserole dish he placed on your counter.

“I’m glad your friends seemed to enjoy the food just as much as you do,” you add sweetly, pursing your lips and blowing on your coffee to help it cool down.

“It was humiliating,” Scaramouche counters, a statement that prompts you to look up from your coffee and make eye contact with him. “They wouldn’t— they wouldn’t stop fucking talking about you after you left.”

Wait, that’s not the point here, is it? Surely Scaramouche’s main complaint isn’t that Venti practically sweet-talked you right into his bed, it’s that Scaramouche is tired of you invading his business and his space, right? He doesn’t care about Venti’s comments about your soft tits or your wide hips, he doesn’t care about Aether’s bashful confession that he exclusively jerks off to older women, he doesn’t care that he has competition because there’s nothing to compete over and he’s really, actually, truly angry that you always find a way to worm your way into his days and his mind and his free time and his wet dreams and his—

“Oh, I’m flattered,” you reply simply, sipping your coffee and smiling around the rim of the cup. “They’re such nice boys. I’m glad you have such sweet friends, dear.”

What’s warmer: the tips of Scaramouche’s ears or his untouched cup of coffee?

“That’s not— what? That’s not the point I’m making and you know that,” he grimaces, clearing his throat again. “My friends shouldn’t have to put up with a shameless old hag the way I have to.”

You set your cup down. “That’s not very nice. I look good for my age— that charming boy down at the corner mart always asks for my ID whenever I pick up some wine!”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “That’s his job. Anyways, I’m telling you to mind your own business.”

“Oh, is that all? Of course I can do that for you.” Your reply comes without a single skipped beat.

“I mean it, that means don’t touch my mail and— what?” Wait, there’s no way you’re making this this easy. A shameless, conniving, lustful, lewd seductress of a woman like you agreeing to just… fuck off at the first request? Scaramouche doesn’t buy it— this is just another phase of your plan to throw him off guard and pull the rug out from under him so you can sink your claws deeper and deeper into him.

“I like cooking for you and cleaning for you, and I was very happy to meet your friends yesterday, but if you want me to stop, of course I will,” you explain. “I wonder who’ll help me eat my leftovers now… your friend from last night gave me his phone number; does he like potato soup? I’m making that tonight.”

Scaramouche almost, almost feels a shiver tear down his spine. He’s starting to believe that Venti’s just as much an antagonist in this situation as you are.

“Why the fuck did you accept his number? Delete it,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring over at you. His coffee’s surely gone cold by now, but that’s alright— he was never much of a coffee drinker anyways.

You shrug, a sly smile forming on your lips. “Oh, I don’t know. He was so sweet I didn’t want to say no… it’d give me someone new to talk to, if nothing else.” Why do you need to talk to Venti when he barely knows you and I’m right fucking here?

“It’s not like you talk to me much despite all my best efforts, Kuni,” you offer him the subtlest of pouts, an action that would look out of place on the face of a woman your age if you weren’t so… if you weren’t so…

Forget it, he’s not saying anything about you that could be interpreted as a compliment. “…Especially now that you and I have agreed to leave each other alone.”

Oh, Scaramouche doesn’t like this feeling. He hates feeling like a situation has spun out of his control, and that’s, unfortunately, exactly what he feels is happening here. You’ve agreed to his terms and you’ve promised to stay out of his way, so why does he feel so… angry?

Yeah, you must have some underhanded motive here. Why else would you be making this so… easy? That’s not like you at all— he was expecting you to fan your eyelashes, pout your lips, push your tits forward, and whimper that you’re sorry and that you’d love to keep talking to him, so will he please give you a second chance?

I’ll do anything, he was sure you’d say.

You clear your throat. “Well, is there anything else you’d like to discuss now? If not, I’ll get back to my yoga. It’s good to be active, right?”

What the hell? You’re ending the conversation? No way, no how— this ends on Scaramouche’s terms, not yours. Who do you think you are?

“No, that’s not it, actually,” he blurts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Staying out of my business means staying away from Venti— from any of my friends. Don’t talk to them, don’t text them, don’t— I don’t know. Don’t be around them.”

You smile a little wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Kuni.”

He scoffs, staring you directly in the eye as if to challenge you. “Seriously? Shit joke.”

Of all the adjectives you could have picked to describe him… “It’s just that the thought of you getting with Venti is nauseating, alright?”

You hum. “And why him specifically, hm? You had other friends over last night— are they single?” Jesus Christ, what is this, an interrogation? And where the hell are these sorts of questions coming from— did you already send Venti an invitation to hook up?

Sneering so hard his nose scrunches up, Scaramouche can’t help but feel appalled. “Did you decide I’m not good enough or something? Who do you think you are?”

You go silent.

Scaramouche, somehow, goes even quieter than silent when the weight of his words finally sets in. There it is— the culmination of your grand plan to humiliate, embarrass, and utterly demean him in your own home. You had this outcome planned from the start, didn’t you?

“I didn’t say that,” you stammer, attempting to correct yourself. “Why do you think I’ve been vying for your attention all this time? Of course I like you, Kuni.”

God, how you piss him off. Who do you think you are— some bashful schoolgirl confessing to her first crush?

“I know that I’m just an old woman and that you could certainly find a cute, young, perky college girl whenever you’d like to, but if you’d ever like me…”

Of course Scaramouche could get someone his age from one of his classes— he doesn’t need to settle for some loose old hag— and yet… the thought of you getting with anyone else, Venti or not, pisses him off in a way he can’t quite describe. Maybe he views himself as some kind of hero protecting everyone else from your shamelessness, maybe he views himself as the only one worthy of your attention as the one who has to put up with you the most, maybe he views you as someone actually, genuinely worth being with…

He sits up a little straighter. “You have no idea how obnoxious you are,” he mutters. “Taking up my time and attention even when you’re not around.”

“What a forked tongue,” you reply, leaning forward and, much to Scaramouche’s chagrin, pushing your breasts together with your hands. “You know that’s why I like you, right? Mean boys have always been my favorite— ever since high school.”

“You’re not worth the time,” he spits. So fucking annoying. So fucking shameless. What kind of woman your age behaves this way, anyway? So obnoxious, so pathetic, so intoxicating, so impossible-to-keep-out-of-his-mind—

“Venti sure seems to think I am,” you offer with a smug, self-satisfied smile as you rise from your seat. Hooking your thumbs up under the straps of your sports bra, you quickly snap the elastic fabric back against your shoulders to give your tits a little bounce, an action that, of course, does not go unnoticed. Slapping his hands down flat against the perfectly-ironed lacy tablecloth covering your dining room table and standing up so quickly he nearly knocks his knees against the table’s hardwood underside, Scaramouche laughs.

What a time to finally, finally accept that he has the hots for his neighbor— the same neighbor who’s supposedly the cause of so many of his bad days and sour moods. You’ve prompted many a disdainful mutter from Scaramouche after catching a glimpse of you through your drawn curtains, you’ve been the subject of many a snide comment made in the presence of his friends, and, most frustratingly of all, you’ve inspired countless, countless inappropriate thoughts that he cannot believe you’ve been the subject of.

And all it took was one of his friends hitting on you for him to realize that.

“Constantly flaunting a body like this,” he chides in a way that he wants to come off as insulting and condescending rather than sadistically flattering, but the little grin you offer in response gives him reason to believe you interpreted it as the latter. Seriously?

“Other boys your age seem to enjoy the flaunting,” you counter, slipping your thumbs into the waistband of your spandex leggings. As if to tease the act of pulling them all the way down your legs, you flip the fabric of your waistband over its seam to expose the majority of your soft lower belly.

Anger burns hot behind his pale cheeks. “Is this some kind of pathetic hobby of yours? Fucking guys half your age?”

“I like to consider it a lifestyle,” you reply, shimmying your leggings further and further down your thick thighs until your thong’s completely exposed. A black lace thong— how becoming of a nymphomanic like yourself. “I’m fine with trading experience for virility and stamina; do you know how many men my age finish in thirty seconds and call it there because they’re ‘just so tired’? College boys either go until they can’t hold themselves upright or until they have nothing left to pump into me.”

There’s that vulgar nature that’s both irritated and (subconciously) aroused him for months. He wants to believe that your disgusting nature doesn’t make his cock twitch, but the time for pretending has clearly passed. You don’t believe he finds you ugly or unappealing and neither does he anymore.

“And do you find this… lifestyle fulfilling?” Scaramouche challenges, grimacing at the pressure building in the frontside of his tight jeans.

You laugh. “Is that your way of saying you don’t? Are you a virgin, sweetheart?”

“Of course not. Just because some of us don’t fuck everything with two legs and a pulse doesn’t mean we’re virgins.” His clumsy escapades are none of your business— his high school girlfriend and that guy from the concert Venti dragged him to over the summer don’t concern you.

Bending forward to push your leggings down to your knees, you gaze up at Scaramouche through your eyelashes and giggle. “Don’t make it sound like I don’t savor every last cock or strap I ride. You could put every last one of them in front of me and I’d be able to tell you who they belong to with my eyes shut.”

Venti mentioned something about experience, didn’t he? What a sanitized way of calling older women complete and total whores.

The inferiority complex in Scaramouche wants to prove that he’s the best thing a whore like you will ever experience, that he can make you feel better than any of the other bumbling college morons he probably knows can, and that you’ll give up your ways of fucking everyone that looks at you in order to devote yourself to him and him alone. That’d be some nice payback for all the pain and humiliation you’ve subjected him to these past couple of months, right?

No, he has a better idea.

“If you want to show yourself off that badly,” Scaramouche huffs, doing his damndest to ignore the nearly-painful throbbing in his jeans. “Then I’m sure you’d be fine with doing it in front of that glass door, right?”

With your hands still bunched in the fabric of your leggings, you look back at the glass sliding door that leads to your balcony and bite your lip. It’s not likely anyone would actually see you— you and Scaramouche live on the third floor— but it’s still a possibility and an exciting thought nonetheless. Maybe you could give that nice redheaded quarterback boy you fucked a few months ago a nice show; he lives just across the parking lot in the building parallel to yours.

“Now who’s the deviant one? I’ve never fucked anywhere more public than a nightclub’s bathroom stall,” you tease, finally pushing your leggings all the way down and off your legs. He doesn’t believe you, but Christ, those thighs of yours look soft…

You accept his offer nonetheless and make your way over to the balcony door, your thong riding high on your wide hips and your hardened nipples pressing into the flimsy fabric of your pathetic excuse of a sports bra. “You’re helping me wipe off all the fingerprints afterwards,” you scold, inviting him over with a wiggle of your hips and a glance back over your shoulder.

Now, rationally, Scaramouche would never propose the idea of fucking in a place as public as right in front of an apartment complex parking lot. He’s never considered himself an exhbitionist and he’s always been somewhat obsessed with his image, and people who care about their image generally don’t have sex in the potential presence of others. Additionally, there’s probably something to be said about him potentially getting caught fucking the same woman he’s spent the better half of this past year complaining about, but the current irrational, horny, angry Scaramouche wouldn’t listen to better judgement or rationality anyways.

The relief that comes with unbuttoning his jeans and giving his almost painfully-hard cock room to breathe is so euphoric he can’t help but sigh, the throbbing in his crotch more aggravating than any pounding headache he’s ever experienced after an evening drinking with his friends.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he laughs, incredulous. “To think the hag living next door to me is the reason I’m like this.” Jamming the weight of his bulge into the plumpness of your soft ass, Scaramouche seizes hold of your hips in both of his hands and gives the fat of your love handles a painful squeeze just to hear you suck the air in through your teeth.

“I thought you’d never come around, you know,” you breathe, beyond eager at the prospect of finally, finally getting to fuck the neighbor boy you’ve been actively working at breaking for months upon months now. A guy this mean, this arrogant, and this demeaning doesn’t come around that often, especially when so many of the guys you get with take the polite route by calling you “ma’am” and complimenting you over and over again— which certainly isn’t a bad thing, but cruel has always satisfied you in ways that kind cannot.

The height difference between the two of you means that Scaramouche has to stand up a little straighter than he normally does in order to press his hips against yours, a realization that’s only slightly humiliating. Granted, it could never compare to how humiliating it was for you to show up at his apartment in front of all his friends.

God, does it feel good to put you in your place.

“Spread,” Scaramouche mutters, knocking one of his feet against both of your ankles. He doesn’t tell you that he needs you to spread your legs so your hips will lower a bit, allowing him to reach them a little more easily since you’re a bit taller than he is.

You would tease him for skipping the foreplay and just jamming himself right into you, but you know that you’ve been plenty wet enough ever since your discussion with him first wandered to sex and masturbation. Well, that, and if you had to wait another minute to get the cock you’ve been so desperate for for so long now, you very well may go crazy. It’s taken months, but you can already tell that it was all so, so worth it.

Running his knuckles down the center of your thong, Scaramouche relishes in the smug satisfaction that comes with realizing that you’re wet. It’s equal parts arousing and equal parts pathetic— just how desperate are you for any cock you can get your hands on?

“You’ve already kept me waiting for months,” you say with a pout cast back at him from over your shoulder. “Why make me wait even longer when I’m right here?”

“Shameless and impatient,” he remarks with a frustrated huff. “Can’t you do something good with your life or yourself for once and just be quiet?”

As tempting as it is to make a teasing quip in return to only further rile up your angsty neighbor boy, a frenzied giggle is the only sound you can muster up when you feel the firm press of a cock against your clothed pussy. Even through your flimsy thong, you can tell that he’s hard, which is a reward in its own right. It’s what you’ve wanted to achieve since the very first time he caught you half-naked watering plants on your balcony— is it so wrong for you to want to rile up the cutie next door?

Scaramouche roughly yanks your thong down to hang around your lower thighs, leaving you entirely on display for him when you follow suit by tugging your sports bra up to your collarbone. The cool, smooth glass against your bare tits is an unfamiliar sensation, but it’s certainly not an unwelcome one— especially when you remember that anyone could look up from across the parking lot and get an eyeful of your bare tits squished up against the glass door.

“I wish I could watch you sink it in for the first time,” you hum, reaching down between your legs to part the outer lips of your cunt for him a little wider. “In front of a mirror or something maybe. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re the spitting image of the romantic type.” There’s no way you consider him the romantic type, is there? He’s not going to hold your hands and whisper in your ear about how cute you are, you know.

Damn it, you’ve got him actually wanting you more than he’s ever wanted you before— this makes all his filthy fantasies about taking you bent over your kitchen counter or being underneath you while you ride him into oblivion look like a cheap, budget porno from a video rental store. His desire has always been real—albeit subconscious, sure—but it feels so much more genuine now that it’s been realized.

“Don’t say a word about this to anyone,” he mumbles in a brief moment of humiliation, biting into his bottom lip as he finally, finally sinks the full length of his cock into you.

Jesus Christ, if there’s anything Venti’s ever been right about, it’s how good a mature pussy feels. You’re soaked all the way down to your inner thighs, you’re so warm Scaramouche nearly feels his knees give out from underneath him, and you squeeze him so well he can feel your pussy gripping the sensitive underside of his tip.

“Why not? I can invite your friend next time,” you propose, squealing with delight when Scaramouche slaps a hand down against the side of your ass. “Venti, right? It’d feel so good to have my ass used while you—“

“Just shut up,” he hisses bitterly, glaring at you hard enough to give himself a stress headache. “Don’t talk about other guys right now. Especially not ones I know.”

“You’re right, it’s rude to talk about other men when I have such a good one right here with me already,” you feign sympathy, pushing your hips back flat against the front of his thighs. “Oh, Kuni.”

There’s that damn nickname again. As much as he hates the idea of you using it to tease him or fluster him, he can’t deny the way his dick twitches whenever you coo it in that soft, sultry tone of yours. It’s like you were custom-made to gobble men up or something— just how many of his classmates have you fucked?

Oh, it doesn’t matter. Not when he knows he can establish himself as the best of the whole damn lot of them. Not when he knows that he gets the privilege of seeing you every single day and nobody, nobody else does. Not when he’s seen your cute nipples peeking at him through that tiny, flimsy pajama top he caught you in all those months ago. Not when he gets to peruse on over to your apartment whenever he wants because you’re right fucking there and nobody, nobody is physically closer to you than he is.

Jesus, this is all starting to sound like some kind of crush.

“How’s that?” Scaramouche taunts, slapping his hips against you so wildly the sound of skin smacking on skin almost drowns out his voice. He’d like to claim that this sort of pace is supposed to be punishing, and he’d be right if he were to say that, but he wants it hard and rough just as much as you surely do. He couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted to because he knows there’s nothing he’s wanted to do more than fuck your brains out for months upon months now.

You don’t answer him, too preoccupied with relishing in the feeling of his cock pounding into you with everything he’s got. How befitting of Scaramouche to fuck you like he’s angry at you— if he could even claim to be mad anymore. The combined sensations of his hips hammering against yours, his fingernails digging into your soft, plump love handles, and his balls slapping against your ass on each thrust are all far too overwhelming to even attempt a reply.

“Seriously? You run your mouth for ages and now you shut up when I ask you a question?” You’re doing this on purpose— Jesus, you’re insatiable.

Your back arches when Scaramouche digs the tip of his cock into a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, a broken whine leaving your lips instead when you attempt to reply with a dirty quip. He laughs when he realizes what’s just happened— that’s certainly one way to get you to shut that filthy mouth of yours.

“I hope somebody’s watching you, actually,” he admits despite all the jealousy even a single mention of his friend stirred up in him. “That way they can see you’re not worth their time because you don’t value yourself whatsoever. Why would anyone want someone who’s happy to just give themselves away like this and get fucked in a place so public?”

Maybe that’s just a weird, roundabout way of saying I want someone to watch me fuck you so they know a whore like you has been whipped into shape and that you only want me now. Who’s to say?

“You don’t care about getting caught yourself?” You finally pipe up with a grin.

Scaramouche snorts. “Getting caught with the likes of you? I’d transfer universities.”

You pout. “Would I still get to see you?”

For whatever reason, the question catches him off guard. How many times does he need to remind you that you’re not his girlfriend, that you’re not some sweetheart with an innocent crush, that you’re just his fucking neighbor who just so happens to have a hot body and just so happens to feel so, so good around him like this and just so happens to be the subject of his wet dreams and fantasies and—

He’s only able to spit out one word. “Obnoxious.”

His hands reclaim a firm grasp on your ample hips before he takes to fucking into you at a whole new angle— one that’ll surely hit that spot that got you to shut the fuck up moments ago. Your hands clamor for anything you could possibly grab onto to steel yourself, but there’s nothing except for the cool, flat glass beneath your palms.

“Kuni,” you rasp in a broken voice, beyond impressed with his ability to have found your most sensitive spot and target it specially. Call it sheer dumb luck or a testament to how perfectly compatible your bodies are, it doesn’t matter. He won’t let up on it until you’ve collapsed— maybe it’ll be a nice change of pace from your partners being the ones to collapse after an evening with you.

With the task of finding something to hold onto having proven fruitless, you instead slip a hand back between your legs to rub at your clit. Scaramouche snickers at your apparent desperation to orgasm, but he’s not letting you off that easily.

“What a pathetic display,” he remarks, pounding into you so quickly you can barely register the full length of his cock before he’s pulling it all the way out of you again. With your legs trembling and your knees buckling, the possibility of actually collapsing underneath him is becoming increasingly likely— these wild, frenzied thrusts of his prove exactly why you’re so into college guys.

Looking down from the fuzzy reflection of your face in the glass, Scaramouche watches each sink of his cock into your tight, dripping cunt with all the intensity and attention of a virgin. It may as well be his first time— you feel so fucking good he’s starting to lose his train of thought. You take him all the way to the hilt on each thrust so easily that he’d absolutely call you a common whore if he were able to form even a single word.

Despite his inability to form a coherent sentence, Scaramouche finds that he has just enough rationality left to pull out mere seconds before coming all over the swell of your ass, his cock twitching in his hand as he bites back moans. Here he is, coming all over the soft ass of his obnoxious older neighbor lady after spending so many months convincing his friends that he does not, in fact, want to fuck her.

You laugh breathlessly, the hand between your legs still rubbing frantic circles over your clit as you attempt to reach your own orgasm as well. “What’s wrong with coming inside? I’m hurt.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. That’d be irresponsible.

“Well, that’s alright,” you chirp, standing upright and turning around to face him. “I can always wring it out of you myself, right?”

“You’re insatiable,” he replies, inching backwards towards the couch as you step forward in time with his footsteps.

“Pot, kettle. You’re still hard, Kuni.”

With the realization that he’ll need some kind of excuse to offer his friends when he inevitably returns to a slew of unread messages a few hours from now, he falls backwards onto the couch just before you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

Well, not that any of them have ever believed any vague, half-baked excuse Scaramouche gives.

#hiiiii #juju bakery #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi smut #fem reader

[kingdomoftyto]

I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.

Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:

Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.

Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.

What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)

If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:

That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.

But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?

Nothing.

No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).

...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?

So yeah.

A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.

This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.

PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.

#Danny Phantom #this is why I've been losing my mind repeating ''please buy it'' over and over btw #this is the FIRST and maybe ONLY time we'll ever get to directly show support for the series #it is a uniquely huge deal for this fandom #it's totally fine if you can't (or just still won't) buy it of course but I am begging folks to consider it IF they can. #not for any moral guilting or anything just.... for me. for the fandom. (for yourself because it's a cool story lmao) #long post

[rexlroze]

𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛

Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2

Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.

“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.

Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.

The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.

“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.

“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”

“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”

“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.

“Yes?”

“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.

With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.

You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.

You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.

You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.

I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes. 

Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.

You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.

You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.

You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.

You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.

“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.

You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.

Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.

Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.

You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.

Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.

The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.

“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.

You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in. 

Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.

You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.

Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.

When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.

You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.

As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.

“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”

You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”

Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.

You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.

Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.

You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.

—

After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.

You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.

In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.

Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day. 

A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.

Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.

Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…

Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.

Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.

You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.

It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.

Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.

The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.

Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.

Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.

You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.

You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.

“You alrigh’, love?”

It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you. 

You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…

“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.

…

What the fuck just happened?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.

You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.

You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.

As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.

Right!

The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.

You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.

Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.

“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”

You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.

“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.

—

After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.

You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.

You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.

After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.

Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.

Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.

Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.

You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.

—

After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.

“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.

You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.

He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”

He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.

You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.

When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”

“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.

“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.

“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”

“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.

“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.

“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.

“Oh, one of my friends told me.”

You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”

“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?

“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.

"You know her?"

Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.

“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.

“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.

“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”

“What?”

“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.

“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.

“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”

“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”

“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

#A Piercing for the Heart #A Piercing for the Heart Series #A Piercing for the Heart Chapter 1 #hobie brown #atsv hobie #across the spiderverse #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x body piercer! reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x you #spiderpunk x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #my first fic #series #rexlroze #rexlpost #x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie atsv

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Ello!!

So this is for Quiet. Where after a smooth mission is over, Price decides it’s a good idea for the 141 to go to a bar and wind down. They all carpool (could you imagine how cramped that would be lol) and arrive, taking seats at the front.

Now they are all wearing normal clothing, aside from ghost, wearing that hoodie/jacket with the skull balaclava. And soon enough the drinks start rolling in.

I can literally see Quiet practically barricaded/sandwiched in between Ghost and Soap. Because they’re big guys and she’s small. So while the rest of the 141 are having their fun, Quiet leaves to go to the bathroom and when she starts to make her way back, some idiot tries to flirt with her and “take her home” if you know my meaning. She’s not having it and declines shaking her head but the guy is persistent and not leaving her be.

And ghost notices…

You always send me the best prompt for this series @thedevillovesflowers ❤️ SO sorry this took me forever, this is a little short just because I was struggling but I hope you like it

Hoping to slowly get back into this series I have a couple ideas

Quiet Series

You were persistent. It was in your job to be especially when you were someone who had to wait hours in the same spot for your target before you could do anything. But right now your patience was wearing thin by the second.

It was meant to be just a nice night out at the pub. It had been a long time since you and the 141 had the chance to relax, so Price offered to take everyone to the pub for a couple drinks and food.

It had been nice. You always loved hanging out with the boys, even if they got on your nerves, and doing it off the clock was nice since you didn't have to worry about getting shot at. They included you too, of course they did, because while Price had put you on the team just almost a year ago, it felt like you had been there since the beginning.

You had been stuck in between Soap and Ghost, smushed against Ghost more since Soap was so animated and enjoyed the company.

You blamed the warm fuzzy feeling on the few drinks you had rather than being pressed against your lieutenant, not having the energy to unpack those feelings at the moment. Eventually you had to use the bathroom and though you regrettably had to move away from his warmth, you didn't miss the way his dark eyes followed you.

But now you were here, unable to get back to him because a rather unattractive man stood in your way.

He was trying to get you to come home with him but after you had shook your head no multiple times he just didn't get it.

"You don't have to be shy, tell me why not." He said but you shook your head again.

You would try to sign to him but you don't think he knows ASL or that he would even realize you were mute. You wanted to just walk past him but there was limited space and you didn't want to be touched by any part of him.

"C'mon, I like a mysterious lady and you can tell me all about your scars-"

Your patience was gone.

You huffed, rolling your eyes and tried to step past him but he grabbed your arm. You nearly slapped him before you felt a familiar presence.

"She said no, mate. Leave it." Ghost's voice was rougher than usual but just as serious as always, maybe even more so like he was scolding a recruit.

He glared at the man and pushed himself in between the two of you. He didn't need to do anything else as the man grumbled and scurried off, leaving the pub without further incident.

"Alright?" Ghost turned to you and you gave him a small smile.

"Yeah..." You signed, trying not to let the interaction ruin your night.

"Let's take a walk."

You gladly followed him out of the pub and once you were outside, you couldn't help but lean against him. You expected him to pull away but he instead he gently pulled you closer.

That warm fuzzy feeling came back when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you began your walk and it was hard to ignore it or place the blame on anything else.

At least out here you could lean on him without worrying what the others or anyone else would think.

"You should've told him off." Ghost grumbled. "Bastard would've ran if he knew how scary you are."

You snorted but shook your head.

"It's not like he would've understood anyway" You signed and you saw the annoyance in his eyes, not at you but at the man. "Don't let it bother you, he's unimportant."

"Should be saying that to you." He signed back and you smiled.

"It's okay. No sense in getting mad at what I can't control, right?"

You know he's smiling under his mask when you see the corner of his eyes crinkle. Your face heats up when he tightens his hold around your shoulders.

"Atta girl."

A/n: slowly getting back into this hopefully Ghost isn't ooc, he's a little different that roommate!simon here atm but he'll get there

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #mute!reader

[risenwrites]

Title: The Fire Means I Love You

Pairing: Slasher! Ace X Female! Reader

AU: Modern Day

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (like seriously this is some dark shit), mdni, yandere themes, implied stalking, arson, mentions of corpses, mentions of being burned alive, death threat, smut, heavy non-con, dub-con, some in depth explanation of sexual fantasies, hate fucking(?), unprotected sex (don’t do this), overstimulation, dumbification (I think-), Ace gets pussydrunk, Ace is unhinged and delulu

Word Count: ~8.2K

Status: Semi-Edited

To set the mood.

You watched as people entered and exited the gas station store, most not bothering to buy anything, which wasn't surprising. Most customers were passing through town on their way to someplace else, only stopping here to get some gas and pass some time by looking at the limited collection of snacks and essential items in the store. Usually, there would only be a handful of customers, many of whom lived in the town, but thanks to the beginning of summer, it felt like millions of people were coming and going.

The beginning of summer was always terrible to deal with. Especially with how many people would drive through your sleepy little town on their way to a summer vacation. What's worse is that the people who went to college were moving back in to live at home. Which unfortunately meant most of the people in your high school graduation class would be back in town. How wonderful. The only two you wanted to see were your friends Poppy and Tyler. Hopefully, you can avoid interactions with the other people in your graduating class.

A smile spread across your face as you thought about your friends. It felt like years since you talked to them face to face. Excitement bubbled to the surface as you thought about your summer plans with them, even if they weren't exceptionally grand. The three of you had decided to stay at a lovely Airbnb not too far from town but far enough away that people wouldn’t bother you and your friends. The house had originally been the home of a farmer, but after his death a couple years back, it was bought and renovated. Just remembering the pictures on the website had you nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet.

The snapping of fingers pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hello? Anyone home?" asked a guy who looked around your age.

"H-huh? Oh, yeah!" you said while straightening your posture. "What can I do for you?"

The guy chuckled and smiled wide, waving a hand a bit dismissively. "Hey, no need to get so flustered. Just want to buy these lighters," he said while placing at least five packs of pocket lighters on the counter.

Your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped at the amount of lighters he was buying. You heard the guy chuckle in response to your reaction, making you flush in embarrassment for gawking. Quickly, you began scanning the items for him to check out to move on from your embarrassing moment.

"That's a lot of lighters... Any reason you're getting so many?" you asked without looking at him.

"I tend to go through lighters fast, that's all," he simply explained. "My name is Ace, by the way, Portgas D Ace."

You raised an eyebrow while glancing at Ace. "Um... nice to meet you, Ace," you said while looking back at the register.

You thought it was weird that he introduced himself. You didn’t recognize him, so you assumed he was just passing through. Maybe he was just overly friendly? You weren’t sure.

Once you finished scanning the items, you quickly told Ace the cost of all the pocket lighters he was buying, and he tapped his card against the card reader. After seeing the payment go through, you put the lighters into a bag while the receipt printed out. The entire time, you could feel Ace drilling holes into you with his eyes.

"Here's your bag. The receipt is inside," you told Ace while handing him the plastic bag.

You expected him to leave now, more like hope, and when he didn't, you internally panicked. He leaned against the counter, eyebrow raised like he was waiting for something. An awkward silence settled between you two, and then your brain decided to take in his appearance.

At first glance, the most notable part of his appearance was the freckles on his face. He wore his button-up open instead of closed to show his chest and-- holy heck, those are some nice abs and a nice waist. You quickly blinked a few times to get your thoughts straight before looking back up at his face. You hated to admit it; that’s a lie, but he was handsome.

"Is... there something else you need?" you asked hesitantly.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked, not missing a beat.

"H-huh? My name?" you questioned, visibly confused, while he only smiled again.

"Yeah! I told you my name; now tell me your name," he explained like that was supposed to be obvious.

"Oh... Why do you want to know my name?" you asked, still confused. "It's not like we'll ever see each other again."

For a moment, you saw something flicker across his face. It was an emotion too quick for you to identify, but it still had a chill running down your spine. A dry laugh fell from his lips as he slowly grinned, albeit more menacing now.

"Just humor me, will ya? You never know when you might meet someone again," Ace chuckled.

Something inside you forced you to hesitate. Your throat suddenly felt dry, and your hands clammy. Warning bells were going off in your head as your hair stood on end from how suddenly his temperament shifted. You hoped that your minor freak out would go unnoticed by him. Still, despite the freaking out, you swallowed hard and nodded in understanding.

"Right... My name is y/n l/n," you told him.

Suddenly, Ace's face brightened, and he laughed happily like he hadn't scared the living daylights out of you. He patted your head and ruffled your hair before sliding his hand into his pocket.

"Nice to meet you, y/n! Can't wait to see you again!" he said gleefully with a wave before walking out of the gas station store.

"Holy shit, are you sure you’re okay? That guy sounds like a total nutjob!" your friend Tyler said, a worried frown on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay now,” you said to calm him down.

You sighed and leaned against the park bench, tilting your head back to look at the sky. It was later in the day now, and thankfully, Poppy and Tyler had arrived back in town just in time to hang out with you after work. The three of you had decided to get some ice cream before hanging out at the town park. You explained to your friends the weird interaction you had with that Ace guy during your shift, and, unsurprisingly, Tyler was worried, and Poppy was asking questions.

"Well, was he at least hot?" Poppy asked with a sly smile on her face.

“Poppy! Are you serious right now?” Tyler asked, looking at his friend with a scowl.

Poppy shrugged dismissively and licked her popsicle, “What? If a guy is going to be creepy, they should at least be hot.”

“That is a terrible mindset!”

Hearing that had you burst out in laughter, much to Tyler’s distraught, then you began sucking on the tip of your popsicle. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Can you two please be serious about this? That guy could be a serial killer for all we know!”

Poppy raised an eyebrow and stopped sucking on her popsicle. She moved her sunglasses down slightly to look at Tyler. “Ty, you're overreacting, like always. A serial killer in a little town like ours? That would be too cliche,” she said before readjusting her sunglasses.

“But-” Tyler tried to argue, but Poppy shut him down.

“I’m not here to talk about weird people y/n meets at work; I’m here to talk about how things will work with Airbnb. I mean, come on, people, we’re literally leaving tomorrow,” Poppy said before sucking her popsicle into her mouth.

Your eyes immediately lit up in excitement at the mention of the Airbnb. You pulled your popsicle out of your mouth with a satisfying pop and grinned. “Yes! I’ve been counting down the days to our little vacation since we decided on a date!” you exclaimed, giggling excitedly.

“But first, you need to answer my question from earlier,” Poppy suddenly said after biting her popsicle, causing you and Tyler to groan in annoyance.

After talking with your friends about the plans for the Airbnb trip, you all headed back to your homes to get ready to leave. You were giddy and restless the entire drive home, wanting nothing more than to finish preparing everything for the trip in a few days. Neither of your parents' cars were in the driveway when you reached your house, but you still decided to park on the curb. Turning off the car, you left to head inside but stopped when you noticed a moving truck in the neighbor's driveway. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you walked over to see who was moving into the house. It’d been empty for years, and you’re surprised someone actually bought it. You remember your parents talking about how the house price was ridiculously high. The garage door was open, and you could hear voices inside.

“Luffy, I swear to god, stop trying to help! You’re just dropping everything!” shouted a voice inside the garage.

“Huh? I’m not dropping things!” shouted another, much younger voice.

Soon after, you heard a loud crash, making your face pale, and dash to the garage entrance. Inside, you found a trio of boys moving boxes inside the house, one of whom you recognized as the guy you met this morning at the gas station. A semi-crushed box was at the feet of a boy wearing a straw hat, and a blonde guy with a scar on the left side of his face was coming into the garage from the house entrance.

You pressed your lips together and awkwardly glanced at the three guys. Internally, you were panicking since one of them was that Ace guy. You were about to say something, but the boy with the straw hat was the first person to speak.

“Oh, hi! My name is Monkey D Luffy! Nice to meet ya!” he exclaimed, greeting you with the biggest and purest smile you’ve ever seen.

You stare at Luffy in complete disbelief at how easily he forgot about the box he’d dropped on the floor. Ace lightly hit Luffy upside the head with a scowl on his face. “This is why I told you not to help! You broke whatever was in this box!” he exclaimed while gesturing to the box at Luffy’s feet.

“Oh yeah, guess I did. Whoops,” Luffy said while still grinning as he scratched the back of his head.

The blonde guy sighed and shook his head while stepping into the garage. “Sorry about them. Is there something we can help you with?” he asked with a kind smile.

“O-oh, um,” you began, “I live next door with my family and just got home. I noticed the moving truck, so I came to see who was moving in; then, I heard a crashing sound and thought someone might be hurt... you know the rest.”

The blonde guy nodded in understanding, placing a hand on his chin. “I see. Well, we were planning on introducing ourselves to you and your family along with our other neighbors, so now's as good a time as any,” he explained with a charming smile. “And thank you for your concern; it honestly means a lot.”

During the entire conversation, you could feel Ace’s gaze burning holes into you like earlier, seeming to completely forget about Luffy for a moment. You swallowed hard, tried to ignore his gaze, and stayed focused on the blonde guy.

“Of course. It would suck if one of you got hurt after just moving here,” you said with a small laugh to try to ease the tension you felt. “My name is y/n l/n, by the way.”

“A pleasure to meet you, y/n. My name is Sabo,” he said, gently taking hold of your hand and lifting it to kiss your knuckles.

A bright red blush bloomed on your face from the gesture; all you could do was nod while looking away. Sabo laughed softly while lowering your hand from his lips. “I didn’t expect you to become so flustered,” he said with another small laugh. “Luffy already introduced himself, but this is-”

“Oh hey! Nice to see you again!” Ace suddenly butted into the conversation, moving himself between you and Sabo, making the blonde let go of your hand. You immediately stepped back, looking up at him with a forced smile.

“Y-yeah. Good to see you again,” you responded with a nervous laugh.

Sabo’s eyes widened, and he stepped back, then laughed awkwardly while folding his arms. “So you two have met each other?” he asked, seeming almost disappointed.

“Yep!” Ace answered before you could open your mouth. He turned on his heel and moved to stand right next to you. “I met her when going to the gas station this morning. She works there as a cashier. Though I did recognize her since I saw her leave the house next door really early this morning.”

“Wait, what?!” you exclaimed while scowling. “You already knew we were neighbors? Is that why you introduced yourself? You could have, oh, I don’t know, told me that instead of letting me think you were some creep passing through town!”

Ace grinned down at you and laughed joyfully, his aggression toward Sabo seemingly forgotten. “Whoa, whoa! Sorry! I didn’t think you’d freak out so much from someone being friendly!” he said playfully.

“I do when someone is being so pushy about knowing my name!” you retorted, which made him laugh more, much to your dismay.

“Ace,” Sabo suddenly said, his eyes narrowed as he frowned. “... Why did you go to the gas station this morning? We filled the car with gas when we arrived last night.”

Ace's playfulness instantly disappeared when Sabo questioned why he went to the gas station. Ace laughed while waving a hand dismissively. “That’s… not important right now!” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward a little. “Let’s focus on the fact we have such a kind and cute girl as our neighbor!”

Sabo didn’t stop looking at Ace with narrowed eyes. He turned his gaze to you, a somber expression on his face. “You work at the gas station, right? What did Ace buy?” he questioned.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, looking back and forth between Sabo and Ace. “Um… He bought a bunch of pocket lighters. Is that a problem?” you answered, then asked in confusion.

You saw Sabo’s jaw visibly clench as he sighed through his nose. He slowly shook his head, the expression on his face showing disappointment as he stared at Ace. You looked at Ace to see him looking away and whistling like Sabo wasn’t giving him a death glare. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the tense air between the two guys.

“So… should I go, or…?” you asked while stepping back.

You flinched a little when both Sabo and Ace answered simultaneously, the former saying yes and the latter saying no. You laughed nervously and took a few more steps back while pointing behind you with your thumbs.

“I-I think I’ll come visit you all later with my parents so we can all officially introduce each other. Because we’re neighbors and stuff,” you explained quickly, saying anything that came to mind to get away from the tension between Sabo and Ace. Before either of them could respond, you turned away and rushed back to and inside your house.

When your parents got home later that day, you told them about meeting the new neighbors next door. However, you left out the part where Sabo got upset with Ace about getting pocket lighters. You figured it would be better for you to forget that ever happened. Now, you were in your room checking over everything you had packed for the trip with your friends.

Music was blasting through your headphones, and you hummed along to the beat while looking through the clothes you had picked out. Deep down, you knew you didn't need to put this much effort into getting ready, especially since the Airbnb was an hour's drive from town, but you were just so excited to hang out with your friends for a whole week! Just thinking about hanging out with your friends with no one else around made you smile.

A sudden movement in the corner of your eye from your window had you yelping and turning to see what had moved. When you saw nothing, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and hesitantly walked to the window to look outside. Your face paled slightly when you noticed that your neighbor's window was across from your window, and you saw Ace leaning out the window with a big grin. He said something, but you couldn't hear him with the window closed and your headphones on. Hesitantly, you paused your music and removed your headphones before opening your window.

"Um… hi?" you said with a slight wave.

"Hey! How are you?" he asked, a grin still on his face.

You frown and lean against the window ledge. "Good… How are you?" you asked, not sure what Ace wanted.

Ace sighed and shrugged while placing his chin on the palm of his hand. "Could be better. After you left, Sabo lectured me about a bunch of stuff, but I honestly didn't listen to most of what he said," he responded, then chuckled softly.

"Oh. I'm sorry, that doesn't sound too great…" you said with a slight frown.

Ace just smiled and chuckled. "Don't apologize. I should be the one apologizing. You shouldn't have seen me and my brothers like that. You seemed uncomfortable."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you quickly shook your head while waving your hands. "No, don't apologize! I didn't want to intrude on your family business!" you explained, then paused. "Wait, you three are brothers?"

Ace hummed with a nod. "Yep! Not by blood, of course, but we're still brothers," he answered.

"Huh…" you mumble. "I thought you three were roommates."

Ace chuckled and straightened his posture while leaning out the window slightly more. "Yeah, we get told that a lot," he said. "That, and most people think Luffy and I are blood-related since we look so similar."

"I did think that too, actually. Sorry…" you admitted sheepishly.

Ace laughed softly and waved his hand dismissively. "You don't need to apologize. People make assumptions about people all the time; I know that better than most," he said and explained calmly, but you could see a sort of bitter sadness in his eyes.

"But enough about me, what are you doing?" he asked while peeking over your shoulder.

You quickly moved to hide your room from his gaze. A small, awkward laugh forced its way out of your lungs. "I'm just finishing up some packing for a trip I'm going on with my friends, haha…" you explained and hoped that satisfied his curiosity.

"Oh yeah? Where are you going?" he asked, genuinely interested.

You swallow hard and quickly glance back into your room. It wouldn't hurt to tell Ace, right? He somewhat redeemed himself from this morning when he told you he already knew you two were neighbors. Plus, he even apologized just now for having to see him and his brother argue. Now that you knew him a little, he didn't seem that bad.

"We're going to stay at an Airbnb for a week. It's about an hour's drive away from town," you answer, albeit hesitantly.

Ace stared at you for a couple of seconds before starting to laugh. "That doesn't sound like much of a trip to me," he commented.

Your face turned bright red, and you scowled. "What?! It's definitely a trip! You wouldn't be saying that if you saw how pretty this place looks!" you argued, which only made him laugh more.

"Really? Then why don't you show me, Firecracker?" he teased with a shit-eating grin.

Without a second thought, you stepped away from your window to pull your computer from where you packed it. You were grumbling under your breath weak insults about Ace as you pulled up the website. Once you had it up, you walked back to the window to show him the screen.

"See! This place is definitely worthy of a trip!" you said with a grin.

"Well, I can't see anything with you scrolling through the webpage so fast," he said, trying and failing to hide his laughter. "Why don't you come into my room so I can look at it properly."

"Huh?" you said, and your eyes widened. "Wait, you mean, like, come over to your house?"

"No, I mean climb over to my window. Hand me your computer first, then I'll help you over," Ace explained, leaning out the window more with his arms outstretched.

You quickly shook your head while backing away from your window. "I am not doing that," you say with a nervous laugh.

Ace pouted and let his arms drop. "Aw, come on! I promise I won't let you or your computer fall, okay?"

You swallowed hard, taking a moment to decide if you trusted him enough to pull you over to his room and be in his room. You knew it was a bad idea, a terrible idea even, but the need to prove him wrong about the trip with your friends outweighed your rational thinking.

"Fine," you eventually grumble while returning to the window. A wide smile spread across Ace's face as he lifted his arms again. "But I'll kick your ass if you drop my computer or me."

"Fair enough," he laughed.

Hesitantly, you stretched out your arms to give him your computer, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs when you let go of your computer. Your heart nearly stopped when he jokingly acted like he would drop your laptop. A scowl formed on your face as you glared at Ace, but he just laughed while pulling your computer into his room.

"Alright, now your turn," he said once he had his arms outstretched again.

"R-right…" you mumbled while nervously reaching out your arms for him to grab.

His touch was warm, much warmer than you expected. You tensed up as you felt his hands grip your forearms. He smiled at you before quickly yanking on your arms to pull you over to his room. A short scream ripped from your throat, and you crashed into Ace, making you both fall onto his bedroom floor. You groaned and rolled off of him to lay next to him on the floor.

"That was awesome," Ace said, turning his head to look at you with a giant grin.

"That was the opposite of awesome," you scowled.

After a moment, you sat up and went to his bed to grab your computer. You glanced around his room to see many fire-patterned things, even though most had just been pulled out of boxes. Even his bed's blanket had a flame pattern. You returned to Ace and sat beside him while your computer turned on. He sat up with a slight groan and placed his hands in his lap. You glanced at him, noticing how he was drilling holes into you again.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" you asked while logging into your computer.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" he asked with an awkward laugh.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. "You keep staring at me, and it's honestly kind of unnerving."

"Oh shit, really?" he asked, seeming to genuinely feel guilty. "You're just so pretty I can't take my eyes off you.

You tensed up for a second and looked at Ace. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to see if he was lying or messing with you. "... Thanks," you eventually responded, focusing back on your computer as a light blush appeared on your face.

"Aww, Firecracker is embarrassed," he sang while poking your cheek.

"No, I'm not! Now look at the Airbnb," you quickly said while turning your computer a little so he could see the screen.

Ace hummed softly as he looked through the pictures of the Airbnb farmhouse. A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at you. "I guess it looks like a nice place," he said.

"What do you mean 'I guess'? It's a stunning place!" you argued, then sighed and closed the computer before putting it aside. "By the way… What's with all the fire and flame in your room?"

Ace's eyes lit up, and a genuinely happy smile appeared. "I've always liked fire. Just looking at it soothes me and makes me feel whole. I go through lighters fast because I sit and watch the fire," he explained before standing up and walking over to one of the boxes in the room.

"So that's why you bought all those lighters?" you asked.

"Yep!" he answered while digging through a moving box. "Sabo calls it an addiction and says I should stop wasting lighters just to stare at the fire, but when I'm stressed, I can't help myself from lighting one."

You slowly nod, not fully understanding, but you still kind of get it. "Yeah, I guess fire can be pretty to look at sometimes," you agreed.

"More like all the time," he said with a chuckle while pulling out a lighter. "This here is my favorite lighter. A friend gave it to me a long time ago, and every time I light it, it looks like the fire is alive."

Ace quickly came back over to you and sat down next to you. He carefully handed you a bright orange lighter with red circles wrapping around just under the lighter's lid. On one side was a blue smiley face, grinning, and on the other was a similar smiley face but frowning instead of grinning. You could tell it was old, with some paint chipping at the edges, but it looked pristine.

"Wow…" you mumbled while handing it back to Ace. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Ace said with a slight chuckle. He flipped the lid open and ignited the lighter to create a small fire.

You and Ace sat together for a while; you weren't sure how long. You just stared at the fire created by the lighter. He was right when he said the fire looked like it was alive. The flame danced and flicked constantly like it would go out, but it never did. Eventually, you glanced at Ace's face to see him intently staring at the fire, almost like he was jealous of how it burned.

The moment ended when someone knocked on Ace's bedroom door. You and Ace flinched in surprise, and he closed the lighter before standing up.

"Ace! Sabo said we had to wait for you before eating, but I'm huuuuuungrrrrry!" whined Luffy as he kept knocking on the door. "Come downstairs already!"

You scrambled to the window, strangely scared to get caught in Ace's room. Ace quickly began helping you climb out his window and back to your room.

"How am I supposed to get back over?" you whispered to Ace. "I know this was a bad idea; I shouldn't have listened to you!"

"Yeah, well, too late for that," he whispered back. "Okay, I'm going to hold you by the waist and stretch you out the window so you can grab hold of the window ledge. Got it? Okay, let's go"

"Wait, no, I don't get it-" you tried to say, but he was already pushing you out the window.

You squeaked, quickly reached the window ledge, and grabbed it as tightly as possible. Much to your dismay, you slowly began pulling yourself through your window and back into your bedroom. You heard a door opening behind you, and suddenly, you were pushed inside your room and fell onto the floor.

"Ow…" you mumbled while slowly getting up.

You looked back at the window to Ace's room, seeing it was now closed and the curtains pulled together. A slight frown appeared, and you sighed before closing your window and the curtains.

The following day, you woke up bright and early, excited to meet up with your friends before heading to the Airbnb. The three of you planned to only use one car to save gas because you didn't see a reason for having three cars when you’d be staying at Airbnb the whole time.

You put your suitcase and all your bags into the trunk of your car and said goodbye to your parents before getting in to pick up your friends. Tyler didn’t have much luggage to put in the car, but Poppy practically filled the back with all her bags. Most of it was her health care products and other things she used to care for her skin.

Once everything was squished into the car, you and your friends headed to the Airbnb. The drive there was full of karaoke and excited talk about the plans to be lazy for the next week. The drive felt short as soon as you pulled up to the farmhouse. It was huge, and surrounding it were fields with no other buildings in the distance. It's the perfect place to forget about the rest of the world for a while.

You parked the car, and then you and your friends exited the vehicle. You quickly bring in all the suitcases, not bothering to unpack yet as you explore the farmhouse. The three of you went through each room slowly, taking your time to enjoy the house's atmosphere, and before you knew it, the sky had already grown dark.

Now that it was night, you and your friends began to work on unpacking the things you will need immediately tonight and for tomorrow morning. However, as you pulled items out of your suitcase, you realized something was missing.

“Oh crap,” you mumbled while pulling everything out of your suitcase.

Tyler looked over at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, worried.

“I think I forgot my computer at home,” you quickly say while looking up at your friend with panic.

“How did you forget your computer?” Poppy asked in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “I thought you were all packed up days ago!”

“I-I was! Maybe I pulled it out to use it sometime? I-I don’t know, but I need to go get my computer!” you explain while standing up and grabbing the car keys.

Poppy quickly blocked your path as you walked to the front. She folded her arms and glared at you while shaking her head. “We all agreed not to leave the Airbnb unless it was an emergency. I don’t think not having your computer is that big of an emergency,” she frowned.

You groaned in frustration and shook your head. “Yes, it is! All the plans I had for this next week are there, plus the three of us can’t play video games together if I don’t have my computer! I swear I’ll be fast, and it’s late enough that most people won’t be on the roads. Please, Poppy, just let me go back to get my computer real fast,” you pleaded with your friend.

“I-I agree with y/n,” Tyler chimed in. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for her to head back. It’s our first day here, Poppy.”

Poppy glanced between you and Tyler a couple of times, the frown on her face becoming a scowl. “Fine. Go get your computer. I won’t be waiting up for you,” she scoffed before walking past you.

You frown at your friend, suddenly having a sinking feeling in your gut, but only nod and wave before you rush outside. You unlocked the car and got inside while reaching around the wheel to start the car. Once you were buckled in and the engine was on, you drove off into the night.

When you were about halfway back to town, you remembered where you left your computer. It was in Ace’s room from when you showed him pictures of the Airbnb. You cursed under your breath, then sighed before turning the car around. It was late, and you didn’t want to bother your neighbor at this time of night. You knew Poppy would be pissed with you, but it’d be better to get it in the morning. A slight frown appeared as you thought about how much this might affect the rest of the trip. Poppy will probably be agitated for the next few days,

You saw the smoke and flames before reaching the farmhouse's driveway. Panic flooded your senses as you floored the gas pedal, hoping you could save your friends from a fiery death. Your mind reeled as you tried to imagine what could have caused a fire. Your friends could be dumb sometimes, sure, but not that dumb.

When the farmhouse came into view, you slammed on the brakes to slow down even though you knew you'd need to get a replacement. You scrambled out of the car when it came to a stop and went to rush inside. However, you stopped short upon seeing the outline of a person standing in front of the building. 

You couldn’t tell who he was because of the mask he wore, but your body froze when you saw the lighter in his hand. He absentmindedly flicked it open and closed, sounding like nails on a chalkboard to your ears since you recognized the bright orange lighter. He had yet to notice you despite how loud your car probably was when you slammed on the brakes. He looked too focused on watching the flames destroying the farmhouse. Swallowing hard, you carefully and quietly began to approach him. You really, really hoped that you were wrong and that this freak just happened to have the same lighter as your new neighbor.

He stopped messing with the lighter as you got close enough to touch him. You immediately stopped moving, adrenaline pumping through your veins. He groaned in annoyance and rolled his neck to lean his head to the side.

"I swear to god, Luffy, don't fucking try to sneak up on-" he started talking, but you quickly pounced on him before he could finish.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, so it was hard for you to get any leverage while wrestling him on the ground. Though it didn't seem to matter from how easily he overpowered you, despite your best efforts. You were still kicking and fighting against him when he pinned you to the ground with his body weight. He didn't bother with pinning your arms down and instead focused on keeping your body under him.

"... Holy shit," he mumbled, grabbing you by the hair to pull your head back to look at your face.

The man who pinned you to the ground took off his mask and then threw it to the side. Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight of your new neighbor, Ace, hovering above you and staring down at you in what looked like disbelief. However, that didn't last long, as a grin soon split across his face.

"Holy fucking, shit," he laughed while moving down to have his nose touching yours. "I thought you were in the building with your friends… I should’ve guessed you were gone since I didn’t see a car when-"

"Go to hell!" you screamed at him, tears of frustration in your eyes as you kept trying to get out from under him.

Ace's eyes narrowed, and he glared down at you, a scowl quickly replacing the grin on his face. A scream tore from your throat as he yanked your hair, pulling out some strands. He forced your head to tilt back as he moved his mouth to your ear.

"Don't fucking interrupt me. I don't want to kill you but keep interrupting me, and I'll turn you into a charred corpse like your friends inside," he growled into your ear, practically kissing it with how close he was.

His threat made you tense up and stop struggling. A shiver ran down your spine from feeling how his scowl turned into a grin. "That's better," he hummed, lifting his head to look down at you.

You began trembling in fear as he stared down at you; a mixture of lust and obsession swirled in his eyes. There was also a spark in his eyes that was terrifyingly similar to the ones you'd see in the eyes of someone who just won the lottery. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing slightly.

"I thought it’d be easy to kill you, like Sabo said," he whispered, and you felt disgust form in your gut from how sensual his tone sounded. “Should’ve known the love of my life wouldn’t go down so easily.”

"The only reason I tried was because fucking Sabo said getting close to anyone would end badly. It was him who convinced me to kill you along with your friends," he continued, slowly sliding his hand down your neck to your body.

"Wha-" you began to say but quickly stopped when Ace glared down at you.

He sucked in some air and shivered, a light flush appearing on his freckled face. "Fuck you're so easy to scare into submission," he groaned while rutting his hips against you.

You screamed and thrashed under him, only to hear him laughing with genuine joy. You flinched when you felt his warm hand slip under your shirt. Shaking your head, you tried to push his arm away from under your shirt, but he didn't budge even a little bit.

"Even your screams are gorgeous," he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I've wanted to make you mine since the first time I saw you," he admitted with an almost shy grin. "Everything about you turns me on and makes me happy..." he continued, rutting his hips against you again, watching with a sick glee as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“Like that time a few days ago when you were at the park with your friends. I was so jealous of that popsicle you were eating. I couldn’t stop imagining that instead of a popsicle, you were sucking my cock. Swallowing my cum like a good girl,” he explained, his breathing heavy. “Or when you came into my room to hang out. God, I wanted to burn off your clothes so badly to feel your skin against mine.”

He slipped his hand under your bra and roughly cupped your left breast with his hand. He squeezed, making you cry out in pain, and slowly began to massage it. He bit his lower lip while looking you in the eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady. “That’s why Sabo wanted you dead,” he admitted like it was completely normal. “He said you would be a distraction from our work. He actually wanted to kill you himself since you were so cute, but there was no way in hell I’d let that happen. If someone was going to kill you, it was going to me. I saw you first, I met you first, you’re mine.”

If you didn’t think he was out of his mind before, you were sure of it now. You continued trying to push Ace away, but everything you did went completely unnoticed by him, and you swore he was actually turned on by how much you were struggling. What’s worse is that you could feel unwelcome arousal starting to boil in your core.

“You like me too, right?” he suddenly asked while swiping his thumb over your perky nipple, causing you to yelp and squirm. “You trusted me enough to pull you over into my room. Hell, you trusted me enough to come into my room.”

“I only went into your room to prove you wrong,” you hissed angrily. “How could I ever like the person who killed my two best friends? I fucking hate you, Ace.”

Ace froze and stopped moving. He stared down at you, his eyes widening and gaining a far-off look. He swallowed hard, making his adam's apple bounce. Suddenly, he tore your shirt and bra off while his breathing got heavier. A chill ran down your spine from the lukewarm air brushing against your skin. The gravely road rubbed against your back, making you whimper in pain while trying to push Ace away. He buried his face into your neck and aggressively kissed and nipped at your skin.

“You’re lying,” he hissed, letting go of your hair to grab your shoulders and pin you to the ground. “You do love me. You have to love me; there’s no way you don’t love me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly with desperation.

 You shook your head, grabbing the back of his head with his hair before trying to pull him away from your neck. “No, I don’t! I don’t love you! Maybe I liked you once for a second, but that was before you murdered my friends!” you screamed while tears started rolling down your face.

The reality of your friend’s deaths was slowly sinking into your thoughts, but you tried to push away the way you wanted to mourn your friends right now. Before you can do anything, you need to get away from Ace.

“SHUT UP!” Ace yelled, his voice frantic, mixed with anger and desperation. “I love you too much to let you not love me! You do love me! You will love me!”

Suddenly, he took a hand off your shoulder to move down and lift up your hips. He quickly began pulling off your pants and underwear, ignoring the screams and insults you threw at him. He tossed the last of your clothes behind him and wrapped your legs around his hips. A dry laugh came from him when he saw how some of your slick was staining his pants.

“You keep saying you don’t love me, but clearly you do since you seem to be enjoying how I’m treating you,” he said in a deep, rough tone. “Does my Firecracker have a filthy brain? Such a naughty girl… not that I’m complaining.”

You yelped and threw your head back as he thrust the bulge in his pants against your bare cunt and clit. He let out a deep, shaky sigh while leaning his head against your shoulder. “This wasn’t how I planned our first time together would be, but this is as good a place as any,” he mumbled, continuing to move his hips against you. “I wanted us to fuck in my room, make it all romantic while making you cum over and over. Then I’d fuck you properly and make you feel nice and full. Maybe we can still do that sometime, huh?”

“F-fuck you,” you hissed angrily, hating the way he dragged out the arousal deep inside you.

“I’d rather fuck you instead,” he whispered into your ear.

“I know I should help you get ready to take my cock, but fuck I can’t wait any longer,” he suddenly whispered while shifting a little to take off his pants.

Your eyes widened in panic, and you quickly shook your head and pounded your fists against his chest. He didn’t take his pants and boxers off all the way, just enough to let his cock spring free. You glanced down to see how pre-cum was smeared all over the rip and dripping down the shaft. There was no way you’d be able to take him right now, so you desperately began trying to get away from him.

“Let go of me! Go away! I hate you!” you screamed while tears rolled down your face.

You watched how his eye twitched slightly while he carefully aligned himself with your hole. “Ya know, I was going to be considerate and let you take me in slowly, but since you keep saying shit like that and I’ll just push in all at once.”

He thrusted his length inside you before you got the chance to respond. You threw your head back and cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. You heard how he groaned and sucked in his breath, and you weakly lifted your head to look at him. He was staring down at you, taking in every little movement of your face as you got used to him inside you, and you hoped with all your might that he wouldn’t move yet.

To your disgust, Ace gently wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. Touching his skin felt like you were in the burning building; everywhere he touched, it felt like a burn should have been left behind. Still, his body's warmth was unnaturally comforting, and you hated it.

Soon, Ace slowly pulled out of your pussy till only his tip was inside, then sharply thrusted back inside you. Your body jolted, and you gasped while trying to cling to him the best you could. He chuckled softly while rubbing circles into your back as he slowly began repeating those motions, the sound of skin slapping ringing in your ears.

“F-fuck, you're tight,” he mumbled before kissing you hard on the lips, keeping that steady pace as he carved a path deep inside you.

A small sob fell from your lips while he kissed you passionately. You closed your eyes and tried to ignore the feeling of his lips on yours, but that only made you acutely aware of how well he was fucking you. He forced his tongue into your mouth and explored wildly while his pace slowly sped up. The way he kissed you felt suffocating, and soon, you harshly bit his lower lip in an attempt to make him pull away. Instead, he just groaned and kissed you harder, like he was trying to swallow you whole.

Soon, a fog of pleasure began settling in your mind despite your best efforts to ignore the arousal and pleasure Ace was giving you. You slowly started to cling to him more desperately, aching to reach a high you never wanted in the first place. That fog only solidified as Ace began rubbing circles against your clit. Your fingernails dug into his back, making thin crescent marks that started to turn red.

“G-gonna make you cum first,” Ace mumbled against your lips. “Wanna see the cute fucked out expression you’ll have.”

You absentmindedly nodded in agreement as you began rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. The heat in your core grew hotter by the second, threatening to go past the metaphorical boiling point. A small squeak got caught in your throat, and your eyes rolled back a little as you felt the rush of your high washing over you all at once, your cum coating his cock and spurring him to keep going. Ace pulled away from the kiss to look at your face, admiring the tear streaks and drool leaving your mouth.

“You're so cute,” he whispered in a husky voice, biting his lip while staring down at you. “You can cum one more time for me, yeah? I-I don’t wanna stop feeling your pussy yet.”

You quickly shook your head as the pleasure slowly crept into the area of pain. “‘s too much-” you babbled with a small hick-up.

“No, no, you can do it. Give me one more. Wanna feel your cute cunt sucking me in again,” Ace groaned as he rubbed your clit faster.

A whimper left you as you leaned your head against his shoulder, clinging to him as your body shook from the overload of pleasure running through your veins. Your toes curled, and you moaned with each harsh slap of his hips against yours. You could barely think, let alone pay attention or remember the crimes he had committed just while you were away from your friends.

A scream of pleasure ripped from your throat as you creamed on his dick again. Your head leaned back, and you breathed hard to get air back into your lungs as you recovered from reaching your second high. Ace squeezed your body against his while beginning to thrust into you wildly, chasing his own release as he basked in the feeling of your gummy walls around his dick.

“L-love you,” you mumbled, not thinking straight. “Love you so much,” you continued while moving to lean your forehead against Ace's.

Ace’s eyes locked with yours, little hearts practically in his eyes. “Say it again,” he demanded. “Say that you love me.”

“I-I love you,” you repeated, slowly beginning to say that repeatedly under your breath.

Hearing that, Ace thrust deep inside you, groaning as he released his seed into the deepest parts of your cunt. He breathed hard, still squeezing your body against his as a wave of tiredness began washing over him. “Love you too, Firecracker,” he mumbled, a manic grin on his face before he fell asleep on top of you.

©following works belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

#risen.writes #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #ace one piece #portgas ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #yandere ace #yandere portgas d ace

[bwabys-scenarios]

Chubby!Reader taking phantom troupe+Illumi and Kurapika shopping with her

characters: chrollo, feitan, uvogin, Shalnark, Phinks, Machi, Pakunoda, Shizuku, Nobunaga, Illumi, Kurapika

warning: slightly suggestive in Pakunoda’s and Kurapika’s

A/N: me on my way to single handedly provide for my chubby hxh fans… this is super self indulgent hope y’all like it!!

Chrollo

-offended on your behalf because of how limiting the clothing options are

-y’all go to like 5 different stores before finding somewhere that sells your size

-“oh! I must be lucky because I thought we’d at least need to go to 3 more before I found my size :3”

-you’re just happy you found a dress and top that looked nice

-he just looks at you like 👁️👁️ “sweetheart… this is not okay.”

-“chrollo this is the first time in 3 years I found clothing in store, usually I have to shop online.”

-will take you to get custom made clothing, nothing is too good for you!!

-honestly he’s pretty appalled by the lack of clothing available for you. you shouldn’t have to get custom made clothing to have something fit you right :(

-also gets you custom made lingerie but cough cough don’t question it

Feitan

-he was watching you shop online and groan because the dress you really wanted was sold out in your size

-“just go to store.”

-“they don’t carry my size in store.”

“… what.”

-this man is itty bitty he has no idea about your struggles 😭😭 he’ll accompany you on your next shopping outing to… observe

-please take him to torrid it would be so funny

-“… they expect young woman to wear this?”

-he holds up an ugly Disney shirt that’s super unflattering. he’s not the best with fashion but even he knows that it’s ugly as hell

-“YEAHH I used to shop here all the time because it’s one of the only shops that has my size in store.”

-you find a dress that looks relatively nice while feitan browses the lingerie LOL… he’s stealing you something, it might not be the clothes you wanted but that black lingerie set speaks to him…

-now if he’s out on a mission he’ll stop by stores and steal you some nicer clothes, you deserve it! (He’s such a cutie patootie UGHH)

Uvogin

-no he absolutely understands your struggles

-he’s fucking huge it’s hard to find clothes in his size too

-tbh he’ll just suggest you make your own clothes or get them custom made, but if you really want him to go shopping with you he will

-literally shocked with the lack of feminine clothing for big women

-he can at least find SOME things his size, and he’s obviously bigger than you

-but you can’t find a single thing

-calls Shalnark to ask him to track down some local shops that carry your size

-will carry all of your bags for you!!(hubby material)

Shalnark

-he just doesn’t believe you until you show him

-he mostly shops online too so will suggest you keep doing the same, but you wanna go shopping with your boyfriend!!

-he has no problem accompanying you, but is doubtful you won’t find ANYTHING

-that is until after you’ve visited the 7th clothing department and there wasn’t a single clothing item in your size! And it isn’t like you weren’t looking hard enough, he looked up the inventory of each store and there was nothing!

-apologizes for not believing you by buying you some boba or pastries

-also the type to get you custom made clothing, tho it will be sorted more to his tastes than yours(the skirts are all way to short and the tops dip a bit too low)

-doesn’t understand why they can’t just sell your size. wouldn’t they make more money that way?

Phinks

-already knows your woes of not being able to find cute clothes in your size

-goes shopping with you literally whenever you want and won’t stop until you find at least SOMETHING(he’s whipped for you)

-got really sad when he found matching couple pajamas and they didn’t have your size(he’s killing someone over this)

-so cute, gets excited with you when you find something you like

-also carries bags

-takes you somewhere nice after. it’s stressful trying on clothes all day, especially when none of them fit!

-Phinks is soft for his lover agenda RAHHH

Machi

-offers to make clothes for you

-probably the second most understanding. she’s seen women’s clothing sections, although she can’t really relate to not finding her size

-will actually hurt anyone that is rude to you while shopping

-likes to help you in the changing room, saying she doesn’t want you to slip(it’s an excuse to feel you up but she’s a lil tsundere so she’ll never admit it)

-if you can’t find anything, she’ll buy you some accessories or stuffed animals, literally will NOT let you pay

-extra sweet on you when you get home, reassuring you that she loves you and that your clothing doesn’t matter to her(she’s trying her best give her a lil kiss for her efforts)

Pakunoda

-as a big chested woman, she can relate a bit! she doesn’t struggle to find clothes as much as you do though

-researches which stores carry your size so you don’t have to go in just to be disappointed

-also will get you custom made clothing, but let’s you choose what you want. she thinks your fashion style is cute!

-gets you custom made matching outfits

-also helps you in the changing room but isn’t hiding her wandering gaze at ALL

-after a fun day of shopping you two cuddle in bed and watch whatever you want!

Nobunaga

-another person that doesn’t really believe you, but because he sees you as a cute lil thing

-will call you silly for thinking they don’t carry your size! your his sweet little girlfriend, why wouldn’t they?

-in for the shock of his life

-literally gets on his hands and knees to apologize

-it’s been like 3 hours and the only thing you’ve found was a hello kitty tshirt that was a little tight on you, but you refused to go home with nothing!!!

-feels bad, will treat you to a nice dinner

Shizuku

-just says to wear her clothes

-“… Shizuku, sweetheart, we aren’t the same size.”

-stares at you for a minute

-keeps staring

-grabs your hand and runs to go shopping with you

-keeps getting lost while you’re in the changing room

-you end up having to have her sit in the changing room with you while you change(she does not mind in the slightest 👁️)

-cannot comprehend why you can’t find clothes in your size

-love her so much but she’s actually the worst to shop with. You spend more time trying to find her than look for clothes

Illumi

-you don’t really have to worry about finding clothes in your size because he has everything made for you, but if you just want to go shopping for the experience he won’t deny you

-cue him contacting the ceo of the clothing store and demanding they start selling your size after you don’t find anything

-hates seeing your sad face, probably won’t take you shopping again unless he’s researched and made sure the place you picked carries your size :(

-so sweet to you, gets you ice cream and buys you jewelry and stuffed animals to make you feel better

-when you get home there’s a rack of clothing Taylor made for you waiting in your shared room

Kurapika

-he needed to go shopping for some clothing too, so he accompanies you

-gets a little embarrassed shopping in the women’s section because people always mistake him for a girl himself

-gets pretty pissed off when an employee rudely says they don’t carry your size

-“Kurapika it’s fine, let’s go somewhere else.”

-will hold your hand protectively as you go from place to place

-when you find a few things, he’s happy for you!

-is a little glad that people thinks he’s a woman because that means he can slip into the changing room with you 👀

-perv!kurapika strikes again

-makes sure you leave the store feeling VERY happy ;)

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #hxh imagines #hxh x reader #hxh illumi #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi x reader #machi hxh #pakunoda #pakunoda x reader #uvogin x reader #shalnark #shalnark x reader #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter feitan #feitan porter x reader #feitan x reader #hunter x hunter chrollo #hxh nobunaga #phinks #phinks x reader #nobunaga x reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #anime x chubby reader #kurapika x reader #smut requests