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moonlitdesertdreams · 1 day

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Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it.

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay.

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention.

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot.

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.”

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt..

“Cooper! What happened to you?”

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag.

“Do you have any on you?”

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm.

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly.

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied.

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach.

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem.

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes.

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again.

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead.

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems.

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.”

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so.

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless.

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in.

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy.

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper.

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up.

“You ain’t gonna share?”

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail.

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side.

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth.

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache.

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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mrchiipchrome · 21 hours

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You Always Go To The Parties

W.C. - 5.7 k

okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)

To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.

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“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.

No way Emma would let you do that.

The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.

Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.

You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.

“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.

“But-”

“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly.

Clearly she didn’t like that.

“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.

“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.

Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.

“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.

“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.

Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity.

“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.

“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.

“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).

“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.

“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.

“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.

“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.

Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.

At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.

You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.

It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.

Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.

“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.

“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.

“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.

“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.

“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.

You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.

The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.

If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.

Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.

“Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.

Yeah, base rules or whatever.

Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.

So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.

Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.

You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob.

“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.

“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.

“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.”

He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.

He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.

Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se.

Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.

It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.

Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.

There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.

The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.

You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.

“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.

Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.

“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.

“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.

It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.

“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.

“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.

Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.

“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.

“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.

"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.

You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.

“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.

“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?

“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.

“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.

The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.

She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.

“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.

“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.

“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.

“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.

“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.

“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.

One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.

“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.

“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food.

You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.

Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.

It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.

It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.

“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.

“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.

“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.

“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.

It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.

“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.

The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.

“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.

“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.

She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.

“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.

Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.

“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.

Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.

“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.

It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.

“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.

“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.

By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.

“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you.

Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.

“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.

You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.

“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.

“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.

“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?

Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.

The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.

“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.

You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.

“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.

If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.

“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.

Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.

You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it.

Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.

“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.

After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.

But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.

When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.

“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.

“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.

You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.

It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window.

Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.

Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?

“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.

She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.

“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.

“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.

“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.

It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.

“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.

“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.

“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.

“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.

“Go to sleep Em.”

“Mhm.”

Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.

#woso x reader #woso #lionesses #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics

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afterglowsainz · 2 days

Text

the prophecy | max verstappen

summary: you and max can never agree on the same topic of conversation and it might be the thing that breaks you up

warnings: angst, some yelling

word count: 805

the tortured athletes department series

you love max. you really do. but you hate when he brings up the same topic of conversation that you'll never agree on.

“i’m not moving to monaco.” you say for the million time.

“i’m just saying it would be way easier for us.” he answers unbothered while eating his dinner.

you avoid rolling your eyes at his comment and just decide to ignore him. since you got together, distance has been a complicated issue for you both. with max flying almost the whole year for races and then going home to monaco and you working and living in new york, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and when you could occasionally fly to see him race.

and yes, maybe it would make it easier if one of you just moved, but why did it have to be you? living in new york has been your dream since you were a kid and saw it in the movies, and now that you finally got a job that you enjoy in the city of your dreams, are you really gonna leave it? hell no.

“why don’t you think about it?” he insists.

you drop the fork you were holding on the plate creating an exaggerated noise.

“would you do it for me?” you ask, exhausted. “would you move to new york for me?” he shakes his head and went back to his dinner.

“is not the same.” he says.

“why don’t you move to new york?” you ask instead. this caught his attention and he finally moved his eyes from the food to you. “what is it to you anyway? you’re traveling the whole time, i on the other hand, actually work here.”

“you can get a job in monaco.” he replies like he always did when the topic came up.

“i don’t want a different job!” you raise your voice. “and i don’t want to move to monaco.” he didn’t said anything, fearing that whatever came out of his mouth would disturb you more than you already were. “if you wouldn’t do it for me, why would i do it for you?”

you regret it the moment you said it, but it was too late now, it was out there. you could recognize the pain in max’s face from miles away and you felt a little guilty that you were relieved when you said it so you didn’t have to hide your thoughts on the topic anymore.

“because that is what people in relationships do, y/n.” he answers, his tone rather harsh. “you sacrifice things for each other.”

“why do i have to be the one to sacrifice things?” you couldn’t stop now that it was out there.

“why are you being so immature about this?” he exhales, a tired expression on his face which only made you angrier.

“i’m not acting “immature” about this.” you attack. “you just ask me to give up my whole life to go live in a complete different continent for you and i said no, period.”

“so what are we supposed to do, y/n?” he raise his voice at you also. “what are we doing here? playing around?” you frown, nodding your head in disbelief. “i love you too much but this long distance thing is killing me.” he admits.

to be fair, you weren’t the biggest fan of long distance either, but there was no other choice. it was either that or broke up, and you definitely didn’t want to break up.

“look, i know it is not perfect but what else can we do?” you ask, even though the answer was right there, it was obvious that neither of you was going to give in.

“this cannot be the thing that breaks us up.” he whispers but you heard him.

“of course we’re not gonna break up, max.” you say. “that seems extreme.” a grimace of sadness appeared on your face.

“well, i’m not sure what else…” he didn’t continue. “i’m not moving to new york.” he says with a serious tone. “and it seems like you’re not moving to monaco. and none of us wants to do long distance.” you kept quiet, trying to wrap your mind around what he was implying, praying that your conclusions were wrong.

“so?” you ask somewhat fearfully.

“so… i don’t know.”

“you want to end things?” you question straightforwardly, not wanting to wander anymore where his mind was.

“i don’t.” he answers. “but can we continue how we are?” his face was of true despair.

“is it really this serious?” your voice was seconds away from breaking but you didn’t want to look shattered in front of him.

“you tell me.” he says with a lump on his throat.

you couldn’t help but wonder if this was always how it was going to end.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #the prophecy #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #mv33 #mv1 #the tortured athletes department

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masterstr0ke · 2 days

Note

Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷

Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)

If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^

No need to rush, tyt! ☁️

YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.

HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER

WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)

WORD COUNT: 494

AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀

The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.

Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.

Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.

However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.

He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.

You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.

You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.

Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #veritas ratio #hsr ratio #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail ratio #ratio x reader #ratio x you #hsr fanfic #hsr fandom #hsr x reader #star rail

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schemmentigfs · 2 days

Text

Caught Red-Handed.

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: janine accidentally catches you and melissa during a intense making out session at school.

warnings: smut (obviously) public sex, spanking, dirty talk, mommy kink, praises, fingering, swearing, melissa is just a horny motherfucker in this one.

author notes: the winner of the poll! my inspiration for this oneshot came when I was scrolling through my spotify playlist. Or maybe it was an excuse to write another smut featuring melissa & reader. (yeah, definitely the second option.) sorry for the little delay, I was going to post yesterday but I had an exhausting day and forgot it. Just me being me. Anyways, enjoy. 🫶🏻

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You lost track of time as you felt your body being pushed into the janitor's closet with some force and urgency. Your back hit a cupboard containing several of Mr Johnson's cleaning products, some falling to the floor on impact. Making a loud noise echo throughout the entire hallway that could alert anyone, but that didn't scare your girlfriend who, unlike you, wasn't scared of the possibility of being caught and continued the makeout session passionately, smirking into your lips.

“We can't—” your insistence and protests are interrupted by a small gasp when Melissa's soft and warm lips deposited small kisses and bites on your neck. Marking and claiming you as hers, with each of the hickeys. For the rest of the week, you would have to wear something to hide those blue and purple marks if you didn't want any of your co-workers to suspect anything. “Babe. Someone might hear us or worse.”

Since you started a serious relationship with the older woman two months ago, it was common for you to have a secret makeout session somewhere at school that would lead to hours of loving or rough sex (it really depended on Melissa's mood) when you got home. But today, she didn't seem in a hurry to go to her place soon. In fact, she had other plans.

She had spent the entire morning teasing you and discreetly flirting with you whenever she got the chance. And instead of being embarrassed like always, you challenged her at lunch saying that she could do better than that. You were quite naive to think she wasn't going to do anything, but here was Melissa Schemmenti about to fuck you senseless and show you who was in charge.

“You just need to be quiet, sweet girl,” she whispers and began to unbutton your blouse. Massaging and squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Or everyone will find out how you are a desperate little slut for mommy.”

You throw your head back, losing yourself in the pleasure and sensation. “Mel,” you groaned when when she throwed the fabric on the floor and pinched and licked your nipples. “Please.”

The older woman stops for a second and put a hand on your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “Be a good girl and behave, understand?“

Remaining quiet, you pull away slightly, still a little hesitant about getting caught and having sex with Melissa on school grounds. It didn't sound too appropriate, especially in the janitor's closet. “Honey, let’s go home. We can’t do it here.”

A fury is evident in her green eyes and she slaps your ass hard, making you wince and hide your face in her shoulder. “I told ya to behave and not act like a fucking whore.” Another even harder slap. “Do you understand?” she repeats.

The change in her behavior sent shivers throughout your whole body. Melissa was a very possessive and dominant woman, it was obvious and everyone was aware of it. She liked the feeling of power, of being in control and being honest, you liked that side of her. It suited her a lot.

“Yes mommy, I understand. I’ll be good and behave,” you gulped feeling all the excitement go straight to your core.

“That’s my good girl, now shut up and lean against the wall. Don’t make me wait or I will punish you just like last time,” she commands with a harsh tone and you nod, not wanting to be punished for bad behavior (at least not yet.)

Melissa slowly approaches and gives your lips a tender peck, before undoing your jeans and panties in a quick, single movement. Leaving her precious and innocent angel completely naked, ready to be ruined by her. Instantly you wrap one of your legs around her waist. Earning a satisfied hum from the redhead.

“Look at you, my beautiful girl, always so obedient and ready for me,” she parted your folds with her slender fingers, biting her lip as she noticed and spread your wetness. “I've been thinking about it all day, how I was going to destroy you.”

“Please, I need you inside. Please mommy, don’t tease,” you whimper when the redhead presses her thumb on your clit and circles your entrance. The action emitting a trembling moan to fall from your lips.

“It's kind of funny, you know? Earlier you were all confident trying to challenge me,“ she chucked peppering kisses in your entire face to relax you for what was about to happen. “And now you're begging and aching to be touched by mommy.”

After painful seconds, without warning she enters you with three fingers, filling your tight hole deliciously. Barely giving you time to get used to the painful stretching and thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Melissa knew exactly where and how to touch you, making you a squirming babbling mess every single time.

“FUCK!” you scream, covering your mouth with one of your hands. “That feels so good..”

She smiles mischievously, enchanted by the way your walls clenched around her fingers. The smell of sex and the sound of your celestial moans filling the room as she curled and pumped her digits, slowly bringing you to climax. Her free hand gripping your hips to keep you steady.

“Do you like this, babygirl? Do you like it when I go deep inside you?” the woman asks while mocking your totally fucked up state — your hair was slightly messy, your neck was covered in love marks and your eyes were wide. A beautiful sight for Melissa. “Answer me and you'll be rewarded.”

“Yes, I love it when you fill me up mommy. You make me feel so good,” your words came out in a whisper, as your breathing seemed increasingly labored and uneven. Your hips moved back and forth in time with the rhythm of her fingers inside you. “Shit,” You cry out as she finds your spongy spot and slows down a little.

As much as Melissa was enjoying watching your face turn into a complete blur of pleasure with each touch, she knew she had to be quick to avoid the risk of Mr. Johnson or anyone else coming in and catching the two of you in such an intimate moment.

“Such a good little girl. C'mon, sweetheart, cum for mommy,” the Italian whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe. “You can do this, princess.”

“I’m gonna—” you meweld, grabbing onto the lapels of her green blazer and trying to hold Melissa close. A warm white liquid ran down your girlfriend's fingers and wrist, your legs were trembling. You instantly wrapped your arms around her neck so you could balance yourself, since you didn't trust your ability to stand without holding on to something. “Holy shit.”

During your high, Melissa whispered sweet nothings and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Take a deep breath, amore mio,” she instructed, removing her fingers from you affectionately, once you calmed down.

“Feel better?” you ask with a genuine laugh putting on your clothes again with some difficulty.

“Much better. But I can't wait to get home and bend you in the kitchen counter.” She responds in a seductive tone, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. And you fight the urge to stay there and let her do whatever she wants to you.

God, that fiery redhead would be the death of you.

“Well, I think we better go home right away. To start our long night as soon as possible..” you spoke with a stupid smile and intertwined your fingers together, pulling her so you could leave discreetly.

But the plan backfired when you opened the door and bumped into Janine, who had an expression of complete shock on her face, alternating her gaze between the two of you, letting her bag fall to the floor. “Oh! You were—” she says louder than usual, almost alerting the rest of the crew nearby. Shit, you had been caught.

An uncomfortable silence settles and you hide your face in your hands, mentally cursing yourself for not having convinced Melissa that this was a bad idea. And now it was time to deal with the consequences of the sinful act.

“Don’t say a word, pipsqueak or you’ll regret it.” Melissa threatens, crossing her arms and giving the youngest a deadly glare, in a desperate and failed attempt to intimidate her, but the redhead's flushed cheeks gave away how embarrassed she was by the situation. “I mean it.”

The second grade teacher raises her hands in redemption. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I swear!” she gives a panicked smile. “I was just in the hallway and I ended up hearing a scream and wanted to check what happened. Guess this explains a lot. So for how long have you been together? Does anyone know besides me? Oh, and are you living together?” Her expression softens and she launches into the questions, seeming to be starting a mini interrogation.

“It’s been two months and no one knows yet, we’re planning to tell everyone soon. And we don’t live together, even though I spend more time at Mel’s house than at mine.” You replied calmly trying to keep up with her quick words.

“That's cute, I'm glad you two are dating. I've always been rooting for you! Seriously.”

After more questions, Janine said goodbye to you. Promising that she wouldn't tell anyone beforehand — this was after another small threat from your girlfriend (of course) who wanted to make sure that wasn't going to happen.

“I thought she would never stop asking questions.” Melissa complains, putting her arm around your waist. “Ready to go?”

“Next time, I'll listen to you about not doing a makeout session on school grounds. It was a bit awkward.” Melissa admits placing a hand on your back. “Ready to go?”

“Always.”

“Oi, lovebirds. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mr. Johnson asks, catching your attention. Pointing to a squeegee and bucket of water. “You make the mess, you clean it up.” Fuck, apparently you and Melissa weren't going home anytime soon.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary #wlw #wlw smut

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norrizzandpia · 2 days

Note

hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

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lettersofalover · 1 day

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-> adore you | paige b

paige x black!fem!college!athlete reader

genre: fluff

authors note: she’s for the girls and yall go together. read bad

from the moment you woke up in your hotel room next to paige until now, about to step on to the espy’s red carpet, you were anxious. you were a famous athlete in your own regard but the spotlight had never quite been on you the way it was now - helping team usa win gold, setting a personal record and a uconn record, all while being in a loving private relationship with paige. everyone knew but nobody told. the athletes at uconn had each others backs and without a doubt, paige had yours. she popped candy into her mouth mindlessly as you got your hair and makeup done in the chair. “when you get on stage, not if but when,” she said matter of factly, “there’s going to be a countdown. don’t pay it any mind. just say what you want. literally, whatever. except curse words, they’ll fine conn for that.”

you couldn’t help having paige’s voice echo through your head, somehow drowning out the noise of the photographers. it was already a sunny day in california and the size of lights made you struggle to keep your eyes open. paige was coming behind you and suddenly all the photographers focus was on the both of you. the speculation had always been there, but there wasn’t any concrete proof. paige shot you a big smile and an awkward thumbs up and you covered your mouth to laugh. the shouts of the photographers were so deafening you couldn’t make out what they were saying until paige approached you and locked her fingers with yours: “they want us to take photos together.” she whispered in your ear before dropping your hand. the moment her hand left yours, the comfort was lost.

“just focus on something in the distance.” she whispered and wrapped an arm around you gingerly. you leaned into her touch, thankful to have her by your side. the contrast of your outfits made for a subtle declaration of your relationship. as the moments passed of you switching between a wide smile and a soft one, paige stopped the photographers for a moment and stood in front of you.

“what?” you mumbled, scared that you had done something wrong. did you look too cozy? was it obvious that you were dating? you were beginning to breath harder as paige reached up to fix your hair.

“wait let me fix your hair.” she mumbled, with her eyes focused on your delicately designed hairstyle. she was taking the job of fixing you so seriously that she had her tongue slightly out of her mouth in the process. “i think i got it,” she said turning away but immediately turned back, “one last thing, hold on.” she smiled and twirled of on the curls around her finger and it immediately came back to life.

“good?” you asked and the flutter of lights and the shutters of cameras began again. paige grasped your forearms and nodded.

“you look stunning.” she said loud and proud before facing the photographers once more.

—

they didn’t sit you with paige and it depleted your spirit. you kept calm conversation with the people surrounding you - a few athletes, an executive board member from uconn and other old men who were keen on getting you to explain your tennis career and why you hadn’t gone professional yet.

“i love uconn, my family is there, my team is there, even my girl- my best friend is there.” you corrected yourself. they all nodded in understanding but one of the more assertive man said, “you know college is always there. you should go while you’re still in your prime. you can get the money and find a nice husband while you do so.” he sipped his champagne with a smile that was confident - as if he gave you the most precious bit of information to skyrocket your career.

“i didn’t come to school to get my mrs. degree.” your voice was laced with snark. men like him wanted nothing but money as their main objective. it was never about the passion. as if she could sense the solemn energy radiating off of you, paige walked to the table and began introducing herself. they fawned over her for a few minutes and you were able to still your beating heart for a few moments. once paige spoke them all, she made it to you and dropped onto the balls of her feet next to your chair.

“you’re up next, yeah?” she said, her glimmering eyes scanning your face. “remember: go at your own pace, don’t let them freak you out.” paige squeezed your hand three times, saying “i love you.” it was a code you two developed when you first started dating. it was a way to express the love you shared subtly.

“you got this.” she said as she rose to her feet and said her goodbyes.

“what a nice young lady.” one of the gentleman said, watching her walk away.

“she’s amazing.” you agreed as the lights dimmed and the first presenter walked to the stage.

—

you couldn’t believe it was you who won national women’s college athlete of the year. you couldn’t move from your seat for a long while, hands covering your face ready to swipe the tears that were pouring down your perfectly made up face. you stood from your seat and held the bottom of your dress, walking slowly and as steady as you could. the yelling behind you was a roar of applause and shouts of your name from your fellow uconn student athletes and the loudest of them - was your girlfriend, paige. you stood at the stairs for a moment, unsure of your balance in the heels that adorned your feet. before you knew it, paige’s hand was in yours, helping you up the steps. she squeezed your hand three times and you smiled at her once you finally made it on stage. she shot you another cheesy thumbs up and the audience laughed.

the microphone was louder than you expected as you loosed a breath. your eyes scoped the audience, looking for that familiar face. everyone was in their seats, except paige. she was recording you and your acceptance speech and it was adorable.

“gosh,” you said looking down at the trophy before back up, “i don’t even know where to begin. i never thought my journey as an athlete would bring me to this moment. i was just a little girl years ago, watching uconn athletes and dreaming to be where they were. to stand alongside the greats and be in the arena where they existed. i never, ever,” you sniffled and wiped at your tears, “expected to be a part of uconn the way that i am now. i never knew love like this existed until uconn became my life. i have a thank you list that’s a mile long - so i’ll spare you all,” you laughed and the audience followed, “there are not enough words to describe the family and love i found while being an athlete at uconn. to my people, i love you and to my girlfriend, i adore you. thank you for believing in me and thank you for all those tough training sessions where you kicked my ass - it got me this trophy!.” you laughed and the crowd erupted in applause once more and you could’ve sworn that your girlfriend paige, was the loudest.

—

paigebueckers: after party with my girl, my national women’s college athlete of the year. she learned it all from me. so proud of her.

kkarnold: she’s really that girl

azzifudd: the dress is stunning just like her

paigefan1: so happy for yall 🥺

paigefan2: my heart, i cannot take it anymore

paigefan3: she’s so in love with her and i love it

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader

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lushaletta · 2 days

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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle angst

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loveydovey-leviathan · 21 hours

Note

can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️

mc gets jealous

obey me x gn!reader

🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao

cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]

The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.

Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.

Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.

With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”

lucifer

A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.

And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.

If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.

When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”

mammon

He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”

Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).

“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”

He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.

He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.

He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.

leviathan

He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.

It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.

He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.

It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.

“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.

When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).

His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.

“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.

satan

He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.

Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.

“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.

He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.

“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.

While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.

“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”

He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.

asmodeus

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.

As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.

“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”

He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.

It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.

“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?”

He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.

Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.

beelzebub

He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.

He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.

The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.

He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.

“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.

He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.

“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”

belphegor

Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.

When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.

He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.

“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”

When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.

But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.

Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.

“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)

If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.

“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”

The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.

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medic-simp · 3 days

Note

15 break up sex?

Like You Still Love Me - Silco Smut

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: office/desk sex, gender neutral anatomy with the exception of "cunt", no pronouns for reader, silco pov, p in v/a sex, porn with a little bit of plot, cheating

no beta !

Silco is not one prone to “bad decisions”, but it should be obvious that a relationship with his employee was a terrible idea.

The breakup was messy and problematic, sending an array of tense situations his way. Between awkward meetings to discuss finance and import status and the occasional glare, the most apt description was uncomfortable.

However, the current situation is far from uncomfortable–physically that is. Buried deep inside your cunt? Pulling you back into his every thrust? Definitely not as uncomfortable as it could be.

Despite your compromising position, you still find it in you to glare at Silco over your shoulder as he fucks you from behind, poorly masking your impending climax.

“Couldn’t get off without me?” he taunts, watching the rage on your face slowly crank up. “You always did wonders for my ego.”

You grit your teeth. “Don’t let it get to your head, you aren’t the only dick I’ve had this week.”

“Come again?”

Without his knowledge, Silco’s fingers tighten their grip on your waist, hips snapping harder into you. If the “o” of your mouth is anything to go off of, he would say you almost did come again.

“I. Fucked. Someone. Else.”

“Who?”

As if it wasn’t already, Silco’s blood pressure is spiking at your spiteful silence, watching you grin to yourself.

“Who did you fuck?” Silco grits out, taking hold of your hair and pulling hard. When did ‘splitting up’ mean fucking someone else within days.

You look over your shoulder, making a show of how exposed your throat is with the way Silco pulls your hair back.

“The lovely sheriff of Piltover.”

Red, all Silco sees is red. Red and the brutal, carnal need to dominate–to take back what’s his. Silco abandons his hold on your hair to grab both wrists and pin them behind your back, forcing your front against the hard surface of the desk with a dull thunk. Your low moan is not the sound Silco wants to hear but it spurs him on nonetheless as he drills into your backside with relentless fervor.

“Mmmnnn he has a big dick too,” you groan, boots scrambling on the floor as you try to find purchase, “I think you– ah!– have competition, Sil.”

You’re getting close to your release, clenching tight around him in frequent throbs, stuttered cries of his name tumbling from your lips alongside your cruel story telling.

“And he came inside.”

Silco’s hand comes down hard on your ass and you cry out again.

“You think you can get rid of my claim on you that easily?” he hisses, slowing his pace to settle on something harder and more brutal that has your climax fading away. Your hedonistic whine confirms this. “I’m not a man you can just forget.”

“I know!” You yelp, squirming against his hold on you, walls still clamping down on Silco’s cock as you adapt to his changes and get close again.

“If you know then why did you do it?” Silco’s voice is ragged, your tightness becoming too much to handle as you tumble off the peak of your orgasm, going rigid in the throes of your pleasure. Silco is not far behind, finding it hard to even thrust into you with how fiercely your body takes him, not wanting to let go as he throbs out his release inside of you.

Bated breaths fill the thick office air, the smell of sweat and sex an odor Silco will have to remedy with a few smokes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks again, throat dry and hoarse with the visceral groans he had bitten back whilst filling you up.

When he releases your hands they fall limpishly to your sides and you make no attempt to get up or even look at Silco. The shame is evident in your shaky voice.

“So you would fuck me like you still loved me.”

#lilith answers #silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco x you #silco arcane #mdni #smut

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kieiswrite · 1 day

Text

Here’s why I love convex:

They’re friends.

And yes, yes, the weird goofy disturbing nonsensical storylines from seasons five and six of possession and pranks and corporate domination compel me to this day, and after that they’ve been members of mayoral office and king’s court, allies and adversaries and roommates, but friendship is what ties it all together.

The extent of it is not always obvious on videos, because both of them tend to cut out much of the more casual interactions, but every time one of them streams, the other will be there. Scar will try (and fail) to murder Cub by spleef and they’ll start talking of anything and everything. They’ll go threaten Joe or sneak to the forbidden areas in Decked Out 2 and all the while there is an ease to every interaction; taking each other for granted in a good way. Scar compliments Cub’s genius and Cub leaves a sweet little message at the top of Scar’s castle. Always the first to comment on each other’s tweets, getting along in person swimmingly as well, these guys have been friends for years and years and it shows.

There are many wonderful friendships on Hermitcraft, of course - a lot of different flavors, and many that I enjoy. There’s a couple reasons why I especially like watching Scar and Cub together. One of those reasons is, weird enough, how understated their relationship is from the content creation standpoint. They hardly ever call attention to it; it’s just there. (Though to be fair, Cub does appear to be plenty obsessed with HotGuy.) They are always willing to run with each other’s bits, a great quality common on the server. I also very much enjoy how between them, there’s an assumption of competence (or at least no stated assumption of incompetence) - even if it might be unwarranted! Scar is prone to silliness but Cub rarely makes fun of him for it, and rarely calls attention to any mispronunciations or the like. Now, hermits making fun of each other is funny and never ill-intended, and I wouldn’t want every relationship to be like this, but the convex way of utmost mutual respect until suddenly an attempted murder is much to my taste.

Okay. Okay Kie we get it, they are friends. So why ship it?

Right. So this is a real friendship between real life people. My interest does not lie in RPF - and even though HC sometimes skirts the line, especially with Convex there are many, many explicitly character bits. They may not have called it roleplay -

(Forgive the side note but, bless these ccs the mcyt as a whole has a very muddled idea of what roleplaying even is. Here’s Iskall85 on stream talking about his planned murder mystery game saying he hates roleplay because these scripted scenes don’t interest him but if there’s just a character he could embody, and pretend to be, without a script then he might enjoy that... Sir, acting out scripted scenes is called acting, what you describe is roleplay. Okay side not done)

So what they did on s5, they may not have called it roleplay but they wore vex heads and did voices and had a whirly transition to when the vex take them over, so I have a very easy time thinking of them as characters. And the friendship the players have happens to be the basis for how the characters act with each other. So I imagine characters Scar and Cub having this implicit respect, closeness and shared understanding. And clearly they like each other.

So let’s turn closeness to commitment to, if we want, devotion.

Why I make it romantic is simply because I like fictional romance and for me, the building blocks for friendship or romance are not much at all different. They’re repeatedly (business) partners, they live together, that’s enough for me. My own relationships have started from close friendships and I’d be hard pressed to explain what the “romance” component even is, so that surely colors my view.

Also. Minecraft men are known for flirting with each other and they do it too - but that is not the main draw for me. I don’t need that, though I enjoy it when it happens.

Also! All this talk about friendship doesn’t mean I’d mainly write them friends to lovers, or in a kind of relationship that I would want. I am a great enjoyer of the more messed up parts of their stories, Convex as villains, as corrupted, as possessed. Mutual respect and care can be twisted or taken to an unhealthy extreme. But the dynamic between them is what drew me to them and what keeps me enjoying them together.

You’ve slept in the drafts for months. Now go, my rant, roam the world. Be free!

#convex #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #hermitshipping #i need to study so naturally i'm writing essays on tumblr

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green-eyedfirework · 2 days

Text

Dick groaned as soon as he registered the flash of orange-and-black on the rooftop, automatically changing his trajectory to engage. It had been a long night, two gang busts and several muggings foiled, and he was not in the mood to fight with Deathstroke until the mercenary gave up on his objective.

Unfortunately, the mercenary was peering through a sniper scope and Dick wasn’t about to let anyone get assassinated on his watch.

A couple of wingdings and Deathstroke abandoned his position, twisting up to face the new threat. Dick drew his escrima before he landed on the rooftop, and went on the attack. “You know, we really should stop meeting like this,” Dick said with the flash of a smile.

“I don’t know, I definitely appreciate the view,” Deathstroke said, dodging a strike and somehow managing to stay still long enough to do a leering scan over Dick, obvious even through the mask.

Banter was good, banter meant that Deathstroke was not in a bad mood and Dick had a significantly higher chance of escaping without injury.

“Really? I think you’d appreciate it a lot better without that mask,” Dick said breathlessly, dropping underneath Deathstroke’s guard and lashing out with an escrima, straight at the mask. “And in better lighting, too.” It connected with a crack and Deathstroke stumbled back with a grunt, hand raising to his broken mask.

Dick took the opportunity to spin towards the sniper setup—with one kick, he sent the whole apparatus crashing off the roof and to the ground several stories before. He looked back up and gave the mercenary a bright smile.

“Oops,” Dick said.

Deathstroke regarded him for a long, stretching moment, ice blue eye narrowing as he tossed the mask aside, before exploding into movement.

Dick backpedaled, but there was only so long he could outlast a superpowered mercenary and Dick wasn’t surprised when he ended up pinned against the wall, his escrima sticks having followed the sniper rifle off the roof, staring up at that snarl.

“Someone should really teach you a lesson about how to treat other people’s stuff,” Deathstroke growled, fingers squeezing around Dick’s wrists.

Dick licked his lips, grinning when Deathstroke’s gaze dropped to the movement, and tried to stomp down on the mercenary’s instep. “You want me to ask nicely?”

“I want you to beg, little bird,” Deathstroke said darkly, leaning down until their faces were scant inches apart. “I want you to scream and cry and wail until you finally give in and promise to mind your own business.”

“Make me,” Dick retorted.

That was normally his cue for wriggling out of Deathstroke’s grip, throwing back a few more quips as Deathstroke’s faux flirting stalked deep into the territory of sexual harassment, and stall until the police got here from the tip he’d called in, but Dick was aching all over and not really in the mood to gain a few more bruises before Deathstroke cut his losses.

So instead he pushed up on his tiptoes to close the scant distance between them, and pressed his lips to the mercenary’s.

As a distraction technique, it worked. He felt Deathstroke grow rigid in surprise before kissing back, grip loosening slightly on Dick’s wrists. The mercenary deepened the kiss, pressing Dick back against the brick, so close that Dick could feel the seams of his armor.

It was a damn good kiss and Dick felt breathless and dizzy when Deathstroke disengaged, only to have to bite back a sharp moan when the mercenary sucked at the curve of his jaw, stubble scratching against his neck. Slade chuckled, diving back in for a kiss, and Dick could feel parts of his body perk up in interest.

The distant sound of sirens faintly registered and Dick couldn’t help the smile curving against the kiss. Deathstroke withdrew, giving Dick a suspicious look. “What did you do?” he growled.

“Me?” Dick blinked his eyes innocently. The effect was hidden by his domino, but Deathstroke still narrowed his eye.

The sirens got closer.

Deathstroke cursed and abruptly released Dick, stalking to the edge of the rooftop. Dick followed him and peered over the edge. A pair of police cars was already there, and there was an officer shining a flashlight over the pile of gear that lay in pieces on the ground.

Both of them ducked back before the officer could look up.

“Don’t worry,” Dick grinned, “I’ll make sure the BPD takes very good care of your toys.”

Deathstroke merely snarled at him. Dick rocked on the balls of his feet, ready to jump back if the merc decided to lash out, but Deathstroke spun around and walked away, grabbing his broken mask and heading to the other edge of the rooftop.

“We should do this another time!” Dick called after him, still smiling, and stretched in satisfaction at a job well done. He hadn’t even gotten punched.

It was a good night.

~#~

The next time he ran into Deathstroke, it was by complete accident. Dick was sneaking into a warehouse when he caught sight of someone else moving in the rafters and it didn’t take more than a glance to identify what their target was.

Starting a fight up here would alert Deathstroke’s target, true, but it would also alert them that Nightwing was here, and Dick hoped for a little more discretion tonight. So instead of barging forward, escrima out, Dick kept his weapons sheathed and slinked forward more quietly.

Of course, there was no such thing as quiet enough when it came to Deathstroke the Terminator, so Dick was still a few steps away when the man growled, “What do you want, Grayson?”

“Ideally, for you to stop taking contracts in Bludhaven,” Dick hummed, watching the merc tense up as Dick moved closer and finally sidled in front of Deathstroke, blocking his view of the meeting happening on the warehouse floor. “But I’ll settle for a kiss.”

Even through the mask, Dick could feel Deathstroke’s unimpressed look. “Get out of my way, kid,” he said tersely.

“Rude,” Dick pouted, letting Deathstroke back him up against a cross beam. The mercenary loomed above him, a hulking figure in the semi-darkness, and Dick felt something skate across his nerves.

“Don’t test my patience,” the man growled.

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Dick said, grabbing hold of a crisscrossing strap on Deathstroke’s armor to prevent the merc from turning back to his target. Deathstroke snarled and yanked off Dick’s hand, but Dick had already jumped up, wrapping his legs around Slade’s waist before his grip was removed. Dick smiled at the mercenary, face-to-mask, like he wasn’t currently holding them together with the strength of his thighs.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Deathstroke said flatly. He didn’t move to tear Dick off, but Dick was under no impression that it wouldn’t be ridiculously easy for him to do. Dick just moved forward with the half-ridiculous plan he’d formulated.

“We left things a little unfinished last time,” Dick said, dropping his voice as he slowly, gently placed his hands on the mercenary’s shoulders. The mask was an obstacle, and he lifted his fingers to the knot, loosening it carefully, heart hammering in his throat as he did his best to keep his movements slow and unthreatening.

Deathstroke let him slip the mask off, standing stock still on the rafter beam. Beneath them, the meeting was beginning to finish up. Dick looked into the mercenary’s impassive expression and smiled, trying to ignore how everything was fluttery from trepidation. “It’s not nice to leave a guy hanging.”

The mercenary made some kind of snort, but Dick didn’t let him get anything more out, cupping one gloved hand against that strong jaw and meeting his lips. Deathstroke let him set the pace this time and Dick took his time in exploring, curling the fingers of his other hand in Deathstroke’s hair as he lost him in the kiss.

He didn’t even realize that Deathstroke was gripping his ass until the man gave a deliberate squeeze.

“Is this what you want, little bird?” the mercenary murmured as Dick broke the kiss with a muffled gasp. “Do you get off on playing cat-and-mouse with villains?” Nightwing’s armor was made of high-quality kevlar fabric, but it felt like tissue paper right now—he could feel the slow, deliberate movements as Slade kneaded his ass. “Did you want the big, bad mercenary to hold you down and make you scream?”

Dick rolled his hips forward, re-wrapping his legs tight around Slade’s waist. “I don’t know,” he said, voice breathless, “you tell me.”

He dove back into the kiss, feeling arousal spike higher with every press and squeeze, his suit becoming uncomfortably tight. Dick was so consumed that he almost forgot what he was here for, but he remembered when he heard the quiet slide of a gun slipping out of its holster.

Dick broke the kiss but kept his forehead pressed to Deathstroke’s, reaching out to grab the gun before the mercenary finished aiming it. He didn’t try to wrest the gun away, just curled a hand over the muzzle and waited.

“You truly are a pain in my ass,” the mercenary grumbled.

“In your ass?” Dick said pointedly, wiggling against the tight grip Deathstroke had on him.

The mercenary merely huffed, not engaging as he let go. “Get off of me. They’re gone, anyway.” Dick darted a quick glance to check before he let go of the gun and unwrapped himself from Deathstroke.

~#~ ~#~

“I trust you,” Dick said with a smile. It didn’t sound like a lie. He was too exhausted and injured, and maybe it was true. Maybe this was what trust felt like.

Slade’s face closed down, slipping straight into Deathstroke’s idle efficiency. Shit. That didn’t seem like a good sign.

“Okay,” Slade said, “Go to the bedroom. Take off your suit. Kneel next to the bed, hands on the blankets. Now.”

Dick was already regretting this. This wasn’t going to be gentle. But there was no point in protesting. Dick did what he was told, and knelt, bruised knees pressing painfully against the ground as he laid his arms out flat on the bed. He buried his face in the blankets, and let out a ragged breath.

Slade’s footsteps were deliberate, and Dick heard him walk to the closet. He didn’t look to see what he was doing, but he heard the harsh swish of something long and thin whistling through the air.

It’s worth it, some part of his mind attempted to soothe, it’s all worth it if it saves lives.

Slade had never been this rough before, but he was clearly trying to prove something. Dick hoped that he didn’t break skin—that wouldn’t be fun to deal with, or to try to explain to nosy siblings.

Slade walked back to him, and Dick could feel the long, thin stick press against his back. A cane. Or a staff, maybe, it was too dense to be a walking stick.

“You’re sure about this?” Slade asked, voice emotionless.

Dick pressed his face further into the blanket, and nodded, a quick jerk of his head.

“Say no,” Slade said, “And I’ll stop.” The cane pressed deeper against his back, before Slade drew it back.

Dick quickly calculated how hard Slade could hit, and bit down on the blankets. The agonizing part would be enduring without begging Slade to stop. Dick really hoped that this satisfied Slade, that he got whatever he was looking for, that this wasn’t going to be the tone for the rest of their encounters—Dick had enjoyed himself before, but this was only going to hurt—

He couldn’t stop the tears spilling out, and he tried to keep them silent. As long as he didn’t say no. That was all he had to do. Just keep his mouth shut.

The floor creaked, and Dick fought not to flinch. He waited for the whistling strike, the snap of wood against skin, the growing burn, the—

The hand on his shoulder, drawing him away from the bed, and Dick had to unclench his jaw before he pulled the blankets off the bed. Slade was crouching next to him, staring at him with a blank face and a narrowed eye.

“You don’t want this,” Slade said levelly, and the words felt like a death sentence.

“No,” Dick breathed out, because he could recognize that glint in his eyes—Slade was pissed, and Dick had no idea who he’d take it out on. “No, Slade, please, I want it, I—”

“Dick,” Slade said, cutting him off, “Stop.”

“Slade, I do—I trust you, I swear—” Dick could feel the tears streaming down his face, and he tried to wipe them away, but his hands were shaking, and Slade was angry, and—

And now he was sobbing into an expensive shirt, strong arms around him, careful to not put any pressure on his ribs, and Dick couldn’t stop crying. “I’m sorry,” he hiccupped, feeling the despair clawing at his heart, because he’d failed, because Slade had set up a test and Dick couldn’t pass it, and he abandoned that line of conversation entirely. “I’m sorry—don’t—don’t kill them, I’ll do anything, Slade, please—”

“I’m not going to kill them,” Slade said, something pained in his tone, “I told you, my job is over.”

“I—I’m sorry, I—just give me a minute, I’ll s—stop—”

A heavy sigh. “Kid, you don’t have to stop crying,” Slade said quietly, and Dick instinctively tightened his grasp on Slade’s shirt as the man stood up, carrying Dick fluidly.

~#~

“I know what consent is,” Dick said irritably—he wasn’t an idiot, and Bruce had been thoroughly obsessive in designing powerpoints to cover the Talk. “No means no.”

Slade observed him, his expression placid. “Yes,” he said levelly, “But consent means saying yes.”

“I said yes, Slade!” Dick snarled, unsure of what picture Slade was trying to paint but knowing that he didn’t like it. He knew that Slade would stop whenever he told him to. That had never been an issue.

Slade continued to stare at him silently. “If I held a gun to your head and told you to beg me to fuck you,” Slade said quietly, “Is that consent?”

Dick had absolutely no idea where he was going with this. “Of course not.”

“What if I held the gun to your brother’s head, whichever one pops up in your mind first,” he said, and Dick couldn’t help the shiver at the mental image of Deathstroke training a gun on Robin. “And told you the same thing?”

“It’s not consent.”

“How about a random civilian off the street? A drug lord? A cop? A—”

“Forcing someone to say yes isn’t consent,” Dick said through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” Slade agreed, “And what if I didn’t force you? What if I had a gun trained on a target and a thirty-second window to shoot, and you knew that dropping to your knees and blowing me would distract me?”

Dick went still. Slade’s face was no longer expressionless.

“Having sex with ulterior motives doesn’t automatically mean it’s not consensual,” Dick said slowly.

“No, it doesn’t,” Slade agreed. “But everyone draws the line somewhere, kid, and you’ve crossed mine.”

Dick felt that strike through his bones. “Slade,” he said, unsure of what he was going to say but desperate to say something, “I don’t—”

“You were ready to let me beat you bloody,” Slade said flatly, “Not because you enjoyed it, not because you thought it might be fun to try—both answers I would’ve accepted, by the way—but because you thought I was going to murder someone if you didn’t.”

“You—you didn’t say that you would kill someone if I didn’t have sex with you.”

“No, I didn’t,” Slade agreed. “But it’s clearly what you heard.”

#my snippets #sladick #dubcon #dick tries distracting slade #and then gets too caught up in it

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