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#I've given up since middle school
ravens-rambling · 2 years
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Every so often I get reminded why I don't interact with people and stay in my bubble all the time...
And today was that day.
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synonymroll648 · 1 year
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*deepest sigh you have ever heard in your life* send me a ඞ for a snippet of the second among us fanfiction i’m writing for an english final this year 
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bbydoll18xx · 26 days
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I've Got a Wand and a Rabbit
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Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 1.6k
Themes: sex toys, masturbation, and sex mentioned
A/N: hii so I thought of this idea when I was lounging in my pool and I kinda love it. I have a few ideas for a second part if you guys are up for it
~
“That’ll be 49.95,” you say brightly, your customer service voice on full display, as you carefully wrap an eight inch glass dildo up and put it in a bag. Your customer, a tall, muscular man with shifty eyes and a baseball hat hanging low over his face, quickly swiped his card, avoiding eye contact with you, as you finished the transaction. 
“Have a great day!” You call as he rushes out of the store and into his large pickup truck. 
Ah. The joys of dealing with the closeted ones. It was certainly more appealing than the creepy straight dudes who offered to take you home and prove to you that the vibrators that adorned the entire back wall of the store were not as good as their own dicks. 
That was fucking bullshit.
You had prided yourself in being open with both your sexuality and the joys of sexual pleasure since you were old enough to know what it entailed. And you were not shy about sex or masturbation. It was a totally normal thing. 
You have often referred to yourself as The Fairy Godmother of Orgasms. Each of your friends had been given a vibrator sometime during college, with subtle instructions to learn how to make themselves cum. Because men just aren’t up for the job these days.
So when you picked up a job at the newest, trendiest sex store just outside of Storrs to help make some extra money for school, it seemed like all of the stars aligned. 
You shake your head, giggling at the hilarity of the man’s sheer discomfort and apply a layer of lip gloss to your full, pink lips. There were a few customers lingering in the store but it had been pretty quiet today, as it was the middle of the week. 
A few minutes later, the jinging of the bell on the door alerts you to a group of girls giggling loudly, faces blushing in a way that you had become quite accustomed to seeing in the store. 
College students were your favorite customers, as you loved seeing young women being open about having fun and safe sex lives, and you wave warmly at them.
“Hi there! Just let me know if you have any questions!” You chirp, sending a wink over to the tall blonde girl whose cheeks were the brightest shade of red in the group.
Her face darkens, spreading down the pale skin of her neck as the other girls shove her teasingly, and she almost falls into a rack of lingerie.
Muttering an apology, she fixes the rack, running her hand across her face, glancing back at you before running after her friends where they had assembled in the back of the store. 
Her bumbling behavior amuses you, and it was so unlike her.
You had recognized her from the second she had walked in. Paige Bueckers face was plastered all over UConn’s campus, and you were a victim of the tiktok edits bombarding your phone.
You were a willing victim at that.
Paige was not just a great basketball player. She was also incredibly kind and unusually humble. It also did not help that she was gorgeous, and you were not ashamed to admit that you had thought about those long, nimble fingers and her muscled thighs from time to time. 
Or maybe a little more than that. 
You are pulled out of your increasingly naughty thoughts by loud laughs, and you look over to where KK Arnold is holding up a huge purple dildo.
“Paige, I think this would be perfect for you!” She snorts, sending the other girls into a fit of howls.
You chuckle, putting a hand over your mouth as you observe Paige’s obvious embarrassment from behind the counter.
“God, KK, could you be any louder,” Paige mutters, eyes flickering to where you were pretending not to watch. “Shoulda just bought this shit online.”
“That’s no fun,” Aubrey says, gazing at the section of strap ons with an interested look on her face. 
The bickering continues for a few minutes, with Ice Brady and Aubrey occasionally making a few comments before you decide to go over to the group.
“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?” You ask. “I know the selection can be a bit…overstimulating.” You bite your lip as you finish your sentence, inwardly cringing at your provocative choice of words. 
Paige coughs, and KK erupts into another fit of laughter, and before the blonde could even form a word, KK says, “Home girl needs a nice vibrator. She is very single, and the ol’ right hand just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.”
“Dude, oh my god,” Paige groans, hands once more shielding her face. 
“I totally understand how that is,” you say sympathetically. “Let me show you our most popular vibrators.”
You reach for Paige’s hand, somewhat surprised as she allows you to take it, and you guide her to the back wall. 
“Now this one is a classic. They call it a rabbit because of the cute lil bunny ears, which is great for the clit. And it has a dildo attached, so it’s a two in one type of deal.”
You look up at Paige, trying to gauge her reaction, and she looks completely stunned. Blushing, you put down the brightly colored toy. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”
“No, not at all,” Paige mumbles, a far cry from her usual confidence. “This is all just new to me.”
You nod understandingly. 
“This one might be more your speed. It’s called a wand, and it’s perfect for beginners. Not much of a learning curve for this one,” you say, holding out the box for her to inspect. 
The wand was purple and small enough to throw in a discrete bag, and with a rechargeable battery and its waterproofness, it was a fan favorite. 
“Alright, I think I’ll try this one then,” Paige says, her voice a little more sanguine as the initial embarrassment of buying a sex toy wore off. 
Aubrey, KK, and Ice erupt into loud cheers and a round of applause, and Paige responds by giving them the middle finger.
“You guys are hilarious. You should come in more often,” you laugh.
“Maybe I will if you’re working,” Paige responds, looking you up and down. 
It was your turn to blush, her sudden boldness surprising you, and your heart rate jumps at the idea. 
Paige follows you over to the checkout counter, where you ring up the toy, adding your employee discount for good measure before bagging it up and handing it to her, your fingers brushing up against hers as you do so. The contact sends shivers through your body, and you immediately think of your own toys waiting for you in your bedside drawer. 
You were really going to fucking need them after this shift. 
“Have fun. If you ever have any questions, you know where to find me,” you tease, not wanting this to be the last you see of her.
“I will,” Paige responds, sending you a cheeky wave before leaving, her friends in tow.
“She will definitely be back, don’t worry!” KK exclaims, before Paige pulls her out of the store by the hood of her sweatshirt.
You certainly hoped so.
~
Life continued on the next few weeks as normal. You went to work. You went to class. And you spent even more time with your legs spread thinking about Paige. 
You didn’t necessarily mean for it to happen; it just did. If her face was not completely clouding your thoughts before she had stumbled into the store, it was now. Even your dreams were swirled with images of that long blonde hair and her mouth, her tongue peaking out seductively.
And because you were quite single, you had turned to the toys. 
You were walking through campus, eagerly heading back to your apartment after your lecture so you could enjoy yet another solo session, when you spot Paige, KK, and Jana walking up to you.
KK was leading the charge, enthusiastically waving to get your attention, whilst Paige was trailing behind, a shy smile on her face.
“Well look who it is!!” KK teases, introducing you to Jana, who had a knowing look on her face. She reaches a hand out to you. “I’ve heard lots about you,” she smirks in Paige’s direction, who rolls her eyes.
You wave at the blonde, eyes crinkling from the sun and the excitement of seeing her again. “Sooo,” you trail. “Any issues with it?” 
The question was vague, but all three girls seemed to know exactly what you were referring to, and Paige flushes yet again. She looks at the other two girls, shooting them harsh looks until they hesitantly walk away from the two of you, leaving you with the privacy you were dying to have.
Paige coughs. “Um, I haven’t really been able to figure it out, ya know?”
You try not to laugh. “What’s there to figure out? Just turn it on and go to town.” 
“I tried,” she nearly whines, clearly embarrassed.
“And?” You prod, confused as to what she was so obviously missing.
“I couldn’t, ya know, finish,” she mumbles, looking at you with a small pout.
You wanted to kiss the pout right off those lips. 
“Need some help then? I’m kind of a professional,” you suggest boldly, hoping she was feeling the electricity flowing between you. 
“God, yes,” she breathes. 
It was all over from there. 
~
If anyone was wondering, yes my friends do really call me the fairy godmother of orgasms. And yes I am very passionate about my love for vibrators LOL
I hope you enjoyed!! Do we want a part 2??
My inbox is always open
xoxo katy
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scarletlizzard · 6 months
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Inked Desires - Part 2
Read Part 1 right here
Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.
Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader
Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication
Masterlist
A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.
Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞
That being said, there will be a part 3 😄
"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.
"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.
That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.
You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.
Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.
"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.
"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.
You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.
"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.
"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.
"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.
"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.
"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.
You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.
"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.
An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.
"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.
Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."
You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.
"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.
As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.
"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.
"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.
"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.
"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.
"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.
"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.
As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.
"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.
"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.
From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.
It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.
There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.
"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.
"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.
"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."
You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.
"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.
"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.
"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.
"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.
****
Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.
You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.
But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.
You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.
"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.
"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.
"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.
"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.
"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.
"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.
It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.
"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.
If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.
"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.
You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.
"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.
You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.
"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.
"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.
Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.
"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.
You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.
"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.
"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.
"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.
"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.
When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.
After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.
You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.
Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.
"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.
You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.
"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.
"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.
"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.
"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.
Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.
At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.
You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.
"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.
Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.
You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.
Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.
"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.
"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.
You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.
"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.
As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.
With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.
"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.
"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.
Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.
"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.
"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.
"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.
At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.
When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.
You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.
Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.
"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.
Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.
"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.
"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.
She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.
"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.
"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.
Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.
"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.
Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.
Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."
You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.
"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.
"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.
The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.
"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.
After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.
"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.
"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.
****
"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.
After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.
She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.
"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.
"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"
"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.
"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.
"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.
You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.
"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.
That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?
"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.
Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.
Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.
"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.
"No, not -"
"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.
"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.
"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.
You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"
And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.
"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.
***
A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.
Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.
Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.
But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.
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hoseokslefteyebrow · 21 days
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In which the first years find out you're engaged, and to whom.
Arranged marriage au.
In which you meet for the first time.
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" You're already engaged?!" 
Nobara Kugisaki's mouth is wide open as she grabs your hand, studying the ring that fits you taste.
You smile at her reaction as you nod, allowing her to look at it. 
Today, you, along with the other second years, are training the first years, as Gojo was sent off to a mission. 
Currently, everyone was seated on the lush ground.
Nobara can't see it, but from opposite you, Toge grins, his blush and expression hidden behind his high collar.
" Why? You're so young! He must be amazing if he managed to pull you!" 
You blush at her words.
" Thanks. It started out as an arranged marriage actually."
" What?- Wait so you don't love him? Do we need to help you get rid of him and escape?"
Nobara is serious, and you can't help but snort.
" Ah, don't worry-"
Your gaze shies away, the hand she's holding pulling away as you pluck at the grass below you. You blush as you continue to speak.
" We might've started out arranged, but we've fallen for each other along the line."
Nobara blinks, taken by surprise.
" How long have you known each other?"
" Since halfway through middle school. We were introduced with the announcement of our marriage."
" I see. When are you getting married?- Oh, I'm invited too, right? Do you need a maid of honor?"
You smile at her enthusiasm.
" We're set to marry once we graduate. And of course you're invited. Maki's already my maid of honor though."
From beside you, Maki smiles.
Meanwhile Nobara's eyes widen in realization.
" Once you both graduate? Your family is a Jujutsu clan right?!-"
" Are you going to marry Panda?"
Everyone turns to Yuuji with an obvious questioning expression in their eyes.
From beside him, Megumi smacks him upside the head.
" No, idiot. She's engaged to Inumaki." 
Yuuji whines as he holds his head.
" That was my second guess."
Nobara blinks between the two of you. Opposite you, Inumaki gets up, moving over to plop down closely besides you. You smile as he does so, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.
This time, everyone notices the blush on his cheeks.
" No way! You?!"
You're not sure if that's a negative or positive reaction.
" Salmon."
" Is there something wrong?"
Nobara hurriedly shakes her head.
" No, I just didn't know. I'm surprised. I've rarely seen you two sit beside one another in class, or spar together, or do anything together except for eating lunch side by side, so- and how do you even communicate?"
You grin at her. From behind his pulled up collar, Inumaki does the same.
" We've been dating since before Jujutsu Tech. We know each other well and respect each other's space. Besides, our class is small, and we already hang out a lot outside of class as well. Besides, once you're together for long enough, you kind of just know how to communicate without communicating, you get me?"
Nobara's looking at you with wide eyes, obviously intrigued by this newfound information. 
" So you're basically already married?"
You and Toge exchange looks, the both of you shrugging.
He picks up your hand which was resting on the ground, holding it in his lap as he messes with the engagement ring he willingly got you. Just like every clan marriage, it was mostly meant for on the papers. To continue the bloodline eventually. He had never been given a ring to give you, and you never asked for one.
Nonetheless, he's happy he did, proud to show you off and already be able to call you his.
" Almost."
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[A/N: Lowkey crave a full blown story for Inumaki in an arranged marriage au tbh.]
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 months
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༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭
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— pairing: logan howlett x plus size mutant!reader
— summary: who knew the key to scaring away the big bad wolverine was a kiss?
— warnings: angst that i have no idea how to describe, heartbreak :/, miscommunication that is quickly rectified, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, horribly described plant ability (forgive me).
— wc: 664
⋆ a/n: OH ME OH MY!!! i haven't written for a new character in so long! it's so refreshing!! forgive me if logan is a bit ooc and a lot of things probably don't make sense, i'm still in the process of watching the movies so i tried to keep things as vague as possibly aside from the spoilers i've been given! i have fallen so deeply in love with this man so he will definitely be making an apperance on this acc more! ty for your request! @hicanivent
masterlist | AO3
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You never thought in all your years of living, you would be the one thing that managed to scare away Logan, and all it took was a kiss.
Maybe it was your fault or possibly the tension that had surrounded the two of you since you had joined the mutant school as another professor.
Either way, what was done is done, and you couldn’t sleep.
You stared up at your roof which was decorated with all sorts of plant vines. Though you were a mutant as well, your ability was minor. You were able to manipulate plants; you could make them move, grow, or wilt. It was nothing too impressive, but the children enjoyed your gardening class.
Gardening wasn’t the only thing you taught, there was also the history of different herbs and species of plants and how they were used throughout time. 
That’s where your dilemma of insomnia lies. With an aching heart and an active brain, essays sat delicately on your desk in your classroom, and you were contemplating on whether or not you should just grade them. The kids weren’t expecting them back anytime soon, but what else were you to do?
A part of you is afraid that maybe you’ll run into Logan stalking through the halls like he does sometimes when his brain gets too loud. It was like he always had something to run from, and somehow he’d always find himself knocking on your door at all hours of the night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk, just sit there and find comfort in your presence.
You weren’t ashamed to say that you’re worried about him, but Logan was probably the most stubborn man you had ever met, so if he didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t force him. Sometimes you wish you could.
You threw your blankets off of your body, sitting on the edge of the bed and held your head in your hands. You felt the exhaustion seeping into your bones and you let out a prolonged sigh.
A hesitant knock on your door pulled you out of your tired stupor, your head shooting up in alarm.
You honestly thought it was one of the kids, definitely not a very shaken up looking Logan.
A very bitter part of you wanted to turn him away, but a very extremely soft part of you – the part that was in love with him – led you to open up the door wider with a small encouraging smile on your face.
He looked unsure for a moment before breaking through the threshold. 
“I’m sorry.”  Was the first thing he had said before you even had a chance to turn around after shutting the door.
He was standing in the middle of your room, the midnight glow shining through your window casted an enchanting shadow against the naked skin of his arms that was exposed by his classic plain white undershirt. 
You don’t know how you managed to speak through the dryness of your throat.
“It’s okay.” You spoke quietly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “No it’s not.” He denied. You approached him slowly before you cupped his cheek. “But Logan, it is.”
Your words had a plethora of meanings behind them, that you forgive him, that you were waiting until he was ready. 
You stare at each other for a moment, his large battle worn hands rest on the plumpness of your hips, and the supernatural warmth of his body sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.
“If I kiss you, are you going to run away again?” You joke, breaking the intense atmosphere. 
A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips ever so slightly. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around this time.”
Logan doesn’t give you time to retort because he had already found himself kissing you, the scruff of his mutton chops scratching at your cheeks ever so slightly. It tickled and you giggled, smiling into his mouth.
You felt him smile too.
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hawkinsbnbg · 19 days
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don’t wake me up before sunrise
prompts: make-up sex, service dom, pillow princess | @steddiesmuttyseptember
tags: misunderstanding, light angst, mutual pining, requited unrequited love, ex-fwb to lovers, obsessive behavior, possessive sex, daddy kink, feminization, panties, smitten Eddie Munson, babygirl Steve Harrington.
word count: 2k | rated: E | ao3
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Shit, this was bad. Steve stared at the man sitting by the bar and glanced around, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
This was really really bad. His mind repeated desperately, hysterically as he stood stock still in the middle of the ever-moving crowd like an idiot.
Because laughing and chatting with some twink was Eddie Munson—still all chains and leather, still looking good as ever with wild curls and artful tattoos, still making his heart run wild with just an upturn of those plump lips.
Then again, seeing Eddie in a BDSM club wasn't so much of a surprise. Given what he knew about the older man, it was Steve who should be more careful with where he chose to go.
Or he had been hoping, dreaming of stumbling onto Eddie on accident since they broke up— no, since they ended their little situationship (he had stupidly and naively thought he could make the older man stay for him, but turned out, he wasn't worth it).
He was self-destructive, obsessive, or whatever.
But now his wish was granted, Steve decided that his heart wasn't ready for it yet. And perhaps it would never be.
Turning away, he glanced down at his wristband and snorted. Funnily enough, Eddie was also the one having introduced him to this lifestyle and got him hooked for good.
Although Steve wouldn't be able to admit it aloud, he still hadn't met any doms who could measure up to Eddie.
What an irony. And how pathetic of him to be so hung up on the very man who wanted nothing to do with him, much less be his dom anymore.
"Sorry ladies, but I've gotta go," he announced to Robin and her date for the night—Chrissy—once he returned to their table empty-handed.
"You okay?" Robin grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, sensing his panic even without words.
God, if he wasn't already tits over ass for Eddie and Robin wasn't so obsessed with boobies, he would've married her as soon as she graduated high school.
"I'm fine," he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Just, uhm, saw a familiar face. So..."
"Alright, I'll make sure your car will make it back in one piece tomorrow," Robin plucked the key from his pocket and gave him a serious look. "Text me when you're home, okay?"
"Okay," he nodded, thankful that Robin didn't try to tell him to get over it.
Because she knew, understood the dilemma of catching feelings for someone you weren't allowed to.
Hers was Nancy Wheeler, and in his case, it was Eddie Munson.
———
As soon as Steve was out of the club, he ripped away his wristband—red for sub—and took out his phone to call himself a cab.
As he pondered if his self-pity party was worth a whole tube of ice cream and a bottle of vodka, a familiar voice sounded behind him.
"Steve."
Heart caught in his throat, he almost dropped to his knees on instinct, but he just froze like someone had pressed a pause button on him.
"Don't run," said the voice calmly as if it could fucking read his mind. Which, considering who it belonged to, should be possible.
And ridiculous. Because even after everything, it was so fucking unfair of him to still be able to read Steve like an open book.
And yet, Steve chose to listen, nonetheless.
Anxiously, he watched Eddie Munson step forward and stop before him, giving him a close-lipped smile
"Long time no see, Princess."
———
Steve didn't know what he was doing anymore. But it surely wasn't letting himself be pressed up against his apartment's door and kissed senseless.
They had been talking or rather, arguing. Steve could remember the thick tension, the lingering looks, the heated words that had been tossed carelessly back and forth like a tennis match between them.
("What are you doing here?"
"It's none of your business, Munson."
"Finding someone to put you into your place, babydoll?"
"Don't call me that."
"Or what? Didn't you tell me this lifestyle is too much for you? But now you're here. In a BDSM club."
"Jesus, you do know how to hold a grudge, don't you?"
"Were I not up to your standard, Harrington? What else did you want from me, huh?"
"You know that's not the problem, Munson."
"Then tell me what is it? 'Cause god forbids me from reading your fucking mind."
"Fine! I'll tell you. I wasn't being a bitch for shit and giggles, okay? I just wanted you to– I don't know, stop seeing your other subs when you started fucking me. Was it too much to ask?"
"What are you talking about? I didn't have any subs besides you at that time."
"Well, who was Andy then? He kept sending me pictures of you both!"
"Jesus, that bastard. I told him to stop doing that when we parted for good last time."
"... What?"
"Those pics were taken long before I met you. Why didn't you tell me anything?"
"How could I? You weren't my boyfriend, and you had made it perfectly clear to me that you don't do relationships."
"You want a relationship?"
"And what if I do then?")
Steve couldn't recall how the conversation had ended. He just knew they had remained silent all the way back to his apartment and then there he was, breathless and needy in Eddie's arms.
It was a testament of how bad he had it for the older man, because he didn't find himself doubting those words even once. Which wasn't wise in the slightest.
But since Steve had zero self-preservation, he decided to entrust Eddie with his battered heart again and hope for the best.
"Missed this," Eddie pecked his chin, his brow, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.
"Missed what?" Steve tilted his head up, mouth slacked and eyes closed as his tongue was gnawed and sucked on.
"Your taste, your scent, your sounds," Eddie said huskily, lips trailing down his throat, hands tightening on his waist as if to prevent him from getting away even when it was impossible to do so with the door behind his back and Eddie flush on his front.
"Christ, even your moles are pretty. Such a pretty thing, aren't you?" Eddie murmured, nipping at his collarbone and leaving bruises behind. No doubt his skin would be covered in reds and purples once the night was over.
"You missed me?"
"How could I not?"
"Then why didn't you call?" Steve opened his eyes to see how close they were, to see the way Eddie shrugged lightly as if he was abashed.
"Thought you didn't want me," Eddie admitted quietly. "Thought you didn't want my freaky ass intruding on your life anymore. So I made myself sacred."
"Yeah, I found your ass freaky plenty," Steve whispered teasingly, fingers scratching the baby hair on Eddie's nape. "But I liked your brand of freakiness."
"Liked?"
"Still do, by the way," Steve felt his cheeks warm at the slow smirk that grew on Eddie's lips.
"So you don't hate me?"
"I never say that."
Steve's heart fluttered in his chest when Eddie crouched down to take off the shoes for him. Then, he let himself be led into his bedroom, let his clothes be stripped down, let his legs spread wide open for the beautiful man above him.
"Fuck," Eddie groaned, fingers tracing the little bow and the baby pink cotton reverently. "You still wear this, angel?"
"Mhm," Steve bit his lips, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable. "It's your gift, after all."
Eddie cursed again, but he sounded more upset about it. Aroused and irritated. A combination that would make Eddie a little mean, which Steve usually loved. But it didn't feel right this time.
Because Eddie looked genuinely remorseful and it pained Steve to see the older man so dejected.
"I missed you, too," he reached up to stroke the side of Eddie's face gently. "That's why I wear it tonight. Didn't want to replace you with anyone else, Daddy."
Eddie made a wounded noise, complicated emotions flashing across those handsome features, but all Steve could see was ineffable adoration.
Arching his back, he moaned loudly when Eddie wordlessly ducked down to suck one of his nipples while rolling the other between calloused fingers.
He had become extra sensitive ever since Eddie started playing with his chest months ago. And even once they parted, the training still stuck and would make Steve nearly cream his pants every time he wore his shirt too tight.
It was the same at the moment, and yet, the pressure wasn't enough for him to come.
Steve whined and tried to seek some friction for his dripping cock by rutting his hips into Eddie's, but failed miserably.
"My pretty pillow princess," Eddie chuckled and petted the tip of his cock that peeked out from the panties' waistband, glistening pink with precum. Filthy and obscene. "Can't do anything without your daddy, hm?"
Before Steve could beg for more, Eddie had beaten him to it and pulled the gusset of his panties aside to prep his hole with those musician’s fingers, somehow already lubricated and ringless without his notice.
"You know how much I missed your little cunt?" Eddie pinched his nipple while pumping relentlessly into his prostate, making him drool and shake like crazy. "How I dreamed of tasting your nectar every night? How I starved for it? So much that I refused to touch anyone ever since I walked out of here?"
How Eddie could make it sound so sweet and filthy was beyond him.
Steve couldn't stand it. He rolled his eyes back and dropped his mouth open in a silent scream, making a mess on his tummy and chest, fluttering and spasming wildly around those long fingers.
Lost to the blinding pleasure, he didn't notice Eddie had moved until he felt something hot breach his twitching hole, suddenly stretching him and spearing him in two.
It was too much, too soon, too big.
Three months wasn't a long time, but it sure felt like it when Steve had to relax as much as he could and breathe slowly to accommodate the size of Eddie, trembling minutely as the older man eventually hit home inside him.
Eddie didn't do any better, brows twisting in a grimace at the vice-like grip Steve had on him.
"Fuck, you're so tight, babygirl," Eddie reached down to stroke his slightly distended lower belly possessively, eyes dark and heavy with desire. "Tell Daddy who do you belong to?"
"You," Steve responded without hesitation, an answer that he knew by heart, always at the tip of his tongue every time Eddie looked at him like he meant something precious.
"Good girl," Eddie smiled sharply and snapped his hips, shocking a high-pitched noise out of him. "Say that again."
"I'm yours, Daddy," he obeyed before rolling his eyes back as the older man bent him in half and set up a brutal pace.
He wailed and sobbed, overwhelmed with how good he felt, babbling nonsense and holding onto Eddie for dear life as all of his breath was knocked away.
He didn't know how long had passed, he just remembered crying his throat hoarse as Eddie kept pounding into him, kissing his tears and apologizing to him over and over again for all the time that they had spent apart, fucking him harder when he began apologizing as well.
"Mine, mine, mine," Eddie chanted, hammering into his prostate mindlessly and wrenching strangled noises out of him. "Never let you go again. Gonna keep you, gonna love you even in death."
When another orgasm was wrung out of him once more, Steve was too far gone to panic over the potential of his love wasn't one-sided.
———
Steve woke up to warm hands massaging his sore muscles and hot lips tracing his body with wet kisses, pressing sweet promises into his skin and flesh.
Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and wished the dream would never end.
When Steve came to again, he checked his phone to see it was a little past midnight. After sending a text to Robin, telling her he was safely tucked in his bed, he turned around to find Eddie already watching him.
"You stayed," he observed quietly.
And let the older man tug him close, caressing him with unsaid words.
"Would you prefer me to leave?" Eddie took hold of his hand and pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, a silent pleading for forgiveness.
Steve pulled back, smiling fondly when it made Eddie's face fall, and surged up to meld their lips together.
"Stay," he said, firm and certain, knowing there was no need to doubt Eddie anymore when the man held him so tightly that it hurt, and yet, so tenderly as if fearing he would break like porcelain.
If this wasn't love, Steve didn't know what else it could be.
Brushing his hair back gently, Eddie cupped the back of his nape and murmured into his parted lips.
"Your wish is my command, Princess."
They smiled too much to deepen the kiss, but it didn't mean they would give up any time soon.
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chuluoyi · 11 months
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Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?
like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?
(not the) best kept secret
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.
genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!
notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!
general masterlist
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You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.
Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.
In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.
And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.
Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.
It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.
“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”
“Shut up, Itadori.”
And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.
you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!
Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.
megumi: wanna grab lunch later?
It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.
Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.
Head pats. Texts. Lunches.
And then there was Nobara.
Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.
But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.
It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.
At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.
"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"
"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."
Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.
"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."
"No, Megumi, I—"
"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."
Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.
Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.
And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.
But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.
"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.
"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."
His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.
"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?
"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."
To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.
"I like you too, Megumi."
And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?
Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.
Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.
But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.
Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.
“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.
All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.
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"Fushiguro! How could you?!"
When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.
You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?
"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"
"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"
"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"
"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"
Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.
But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?
He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”
Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.
And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.
Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.
His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.
He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.
And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.
Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.
Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.
Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.
“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”
It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.
When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.
“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”
No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.
“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.
Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?
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But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.
“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”
You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.
“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.
“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.
Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.
“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”
“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”
You were at a loss.
You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.
But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.
"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"
"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.
Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?
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Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.
"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."
He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.
You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.
He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.
"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."
"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."
And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?
He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?
"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."
"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.
"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."
"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."
He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.
At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.
"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.
"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."
You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”
And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.
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Something that's stuck with me from the Arch Heart's appearance, which highlights a major underpinning of my frustration with C3, is the "Big Doors don't work" comment.
In what way exactly is the Big Door not working?
The purpose of the Divine Gate was to mitigate the gods exerting undo influence on mortal affairs, and according to everything we've seen in all 3 campaigns up to this point, this was a demonstrable success: the Calamity ended, and despite multiple potentially world-ending catastrophes cropping up since then, it has been up to mortals to deal with these threats. They've often done so with divine aid, but I fail to see how that's overreaching on the gods' part when accepting said aid is still dependent on mortal choice.*
Part of the Arch Heart's reasoning for wanting to "let go" is, as I understand it, because mortals continue to rebel against and resent the gods even from behind the Divine Gate. Which, yes they do, but like... the customer is not always right. Not every complaint needs to be catered to, especially the ones based on faulty postulates.
I get that this is not how the Arch Heart is thinking about it; my issue is not with the roleplay of individual characters, but with the narrative whole and the sheer amount of time it has spent, both in the text and extra-textual framing, sincerely entertaining the base axioms of an argument that is so poorly constructed Ludinus wouldn't make it past round one of a middle school debate club. None of the anti-god arguments have given any tangible evidence for the claim that the gods are an oppressive force or that Exandria would be better off without them that is not either:
A. Aeor, which was pre-Divine Gate and in fact the catalyst for the gods to pull back on interfering with mortal affairs, and therefore not all that pertinent to the current status quo;
or B. an event or action that, while it may be done in the name of the gods (e.g. Hearthdell) or directly encouraged by a god (e.g. Opal and the Crown) is nonetheless still contingent on mortals making choices, and therefore not a convincing argument that the gods are infringing on free will,** nor that removing them would prevent these types of situations.
An ongoing motif of C3 has been showing perspectives which challenge the prevailing narrative about the gods as established within Exandria's lore to this point. As a story enjoyer, I normally would eat up this sort of reversal—I love a metatextual play with in-universe narratives. But to do so convincingly requires more substance than a handful of characters going 'Trust me bro.' I'm going to need to see some peer-reviewed studies on Exandrian metaphysics before I take Ludinus "17 ulterior motives stacked in a wizard robe" Da'leth's word over what I've seen with my own brain over thousands of hours worth of game play.
If the message of the narrative is telling me to question the diegetic information it presents, then I am going to do just that. So far every argument that the gods do more harm than good for Exandria has been rampant citationless behavior. I find it baffling and borderline infuriating that we're approaching the denouement of this campaign and I still have yet to see evidence that the core conflict of the story, the central debate which has plagued every in-game and fandom discussion for a year now, is based on an actual problem. Like, at all.
*If you think Vax did not exercise his own agency and free will in every step of becoming Champion of the Matron, you are simply wrong.
**For real, we know there are magical means of straight-up mind control in Exandria. Like, you don't have to approve of it, but the gods engaging in standard issue verbal manipulation does not constitute a violation of free will, and it certainly doesn't make the argument that they are so immeasurably more powerful than mortals that they should not be allowed to exist.
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fromgoy2joy · 9 months
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I have been… biting my tongue from saying things. 
Partially because I’m not “really Jewish” (on the way to it via conversion), and because I didn’t want this blog to be political. 
But I realize I want this page to be a safe space. If anyone takes issue with what I’m about to say, I don’t want them on this page. 
I joined the college jewish community very shortly after 10/7 and was immediately welcomed in. There was no separation between me and the girl who had gone to orthodox shul all her life and was the head of the state youth group. I was told explicitly  “you are one of us. And together, we are mourning. We have lost our people and so have you.” 
Still I felt no authority to speak on things as insidious as antisemitism until recently. But how many times do you have to experience an antisemitic incident until you get to stand up? 
Six. The answer is six. 
Since explicitly aligning myself with Jewishness, I have lost friends who told me I have “dual loyalties” in so many words. I’ve been ostracized in events because we were singled out . I’ve been followed back to my dorm room from events by people hurling genocide accusations at me- white girls wearing keffiyahs who don't know anything about the Nakba when I try to connect with them about how awful it was.
My face was used in a local “fight jew hate” campaign” where I’m in a group of people with clearly middle eastern descent. But what circulated around my campus was my blonde hair and blue eyes, with people using laughing emojis.
“This is who we’re supposed to be defending!? Bitch please! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣” 
(Which is perfectly ironic because they singled out the person who wasn't ethnically Jewish and focused on her. )
Campus security and the disciplinary office knows me quite well from all the reports I've filed whether for me or other people.
I leave campus for breaks. Even though I’m returning to my highly Catholic conservative family, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't have to look over my shoulder constantly or check myself in the surroundings I'm in. I already feel the dread about returning in January.
What hurts is the blindness- the lack of nuance- that is being given. Every single Jewish person at my school is not a self described zionist, other than that they acknowledge Jewish indignity to the land, and that there was a reason for the creation of Israel- not even justification in the current state or the matter it came about.
But they- and we- shouldn't have to prove ourselves. We shouldn't be debating if we should fundraise for Gazans (we are) in case someone accuses us of "lying about our intentions" or if we'd be pointed out as "the good jews!" They shouldn't have to have a tab open on their computer for Israeli passports, even though they desperately don't want to leave the United States. I shouldn't have to wonder whenever I'm at a synagogue "If I get killed here in a terrorist attack before being immersed in the mikvah, will I get a Catholic or Jewish funeral?"
But that never mattered. Our voices never did. Unless the antisemitism came from a high school dropout neo-nazi with a shaved head and swastika jacket, it's never going to matter.
I will never forget- even as I advocate for Palestinians, call for a ceasefire, and donate. Or any other cause where I'll be marching besides these activists I can never call well meaning.
I could go on and on about it. But I won't be able to write it out in this post.
All I know is when the counsel of rabbis ask me if I'm ready to be apart of an unpopular group, I'm going to have to fight myself from laughing at the question
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lucrativesoul · 1 year
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Welcome Home
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summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.
pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader
word count: 9.3k
warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon
a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!
No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.
Until… It was realistic.
For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…
You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.
You could not have been more wrong.
“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”
Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”
You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!
Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.
“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”
You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”
You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.
There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.
The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!
Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.
He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.
From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.
As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.
Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.
Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 
A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.
“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”
You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”
“Agreed.”
As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.
“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”
Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.
“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”
You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 
She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?
“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”
Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.
“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”
She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.
Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”
“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”
“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 
The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.
“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 
“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.
The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.
You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.
“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.
A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”
Leon. 
You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.
“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 
“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.
The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 
Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 
You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.
Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 
But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.
A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.
“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”
You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”
She sighed. “You can say that again.”
You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”
You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.
The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.
“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”
“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 
“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.
“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.
His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–
“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 
You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.
“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.
“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 
He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”
You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 
“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.
He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”
You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.
“Are you any good?”
He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”
You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”
Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”
Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”
You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 
He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”
And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.
You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”
“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.
Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 
Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.
“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.
“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”
“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 
You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”
She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”
“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.
Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.
The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.
You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.
God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.
Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 
You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?
Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.
On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.
The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.
Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.
This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.
It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?
Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.
You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.
People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.
After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.
You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.
As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 
“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.
“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”
You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.
“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.
You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.
“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”
“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 
He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.
You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 
“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 
Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.
“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”
He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.
“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”
You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?
He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”
You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.
You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.
You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.
“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”
Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.
His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.
Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.
He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 
“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”
His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”
Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 
He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.
He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.
Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.
You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.
As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.
“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”
Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.
“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.
Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 
Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.
You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.
“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.
“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.
After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.
“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.
You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.
“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.
You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.
He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.
“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.
You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.
The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.
“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.
His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.
One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 
You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.
On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.
Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 
You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.
He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.
He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.
He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 
He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 
He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.
After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.
“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.
“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.
He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.
The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.
The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.
“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.
“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.
“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”
“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 
He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 
He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.
“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.
“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.
“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.
“Coming to the house any time soon?”
You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 
He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”
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minimickzy · 11 months
Text
Oh My God || Hazel Callahan
Listen- I believe in loser hazel and I find her to be perfect- I know this isn't my best fic but I've been in serious bottoms brain rot
dialog prompts:
"Hold my hand" "Absolutely not"
Characters: Hazel Callahan x Reader, the whole club
Word count: 2359
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Hazel Callahan was your mortal enemy. Did she know? Probably not. It was honestly beside the point. Because what mattered was that bitch seemed to have it out for you since the start of high school. First, it was taking your topic for a history project. Whatever- no big deal. Then all the “accidents” spilling coffee on your backpack (she had given you money for a new one but still), tripping you in the walkways, and hitting you in the face with a volleyball (multiple times). After that, she got the better parking spot for senior year, and finally, the great big plump cherry on top, she took the lunch table you had practically reserved since freshman year. 
At the end of the day, the whole ordeal may be a bit over-dramatic… but that table was perfect. In the corner, you could either hide or have a great undisturbed lunch with your friends. Hazel had sat there one day with Josie and PJ. which was weird in itself because they never had eaten in the cafeteria before and you didn't even remember them being friends. 
For how much you didn't care about Hazel Callahan- she sure took a lot of your attention.  
If anyone else had done any of those things- you probably wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But this was Hazel Callahan who despite your best efforts you could not stop crushing on. 
The stolen table was a very recent development. As in on Monday and it was now Wednesday. You sat at the next best table with Sylvie and Krystal, watching as Hazel feverishly wrote something in her notebook as PJ seemed to make a grandiose speech. 
She had no right to look that attractive while sitting in your spot. You groaned and face-planted into your crossed arms on the table. 
“Are you good dude?” You rolled your head to the side to look at Sylvie and then let out another frustrated groan. 
“Everything is awful and I hate it here.” 
Krystal patted your back while Silive sighed, “You know what you need?”
“Hmm?” 
“To hit something.” 
You laughed from inside your arm fortress, “Okay Sylvie- what should I hit? A fucking tree? Jeff? A Huntington player?” 
“No, you should join the fight club! It’s for women empowerment- I’m trying to train up to deal with my stepdad ya know?” 
You lifted your head and gave your friend a questioning look. “Fight club? For women empowerment?” 
Sylvie and Krystal both nodded excitedly. 
“When and Where?” 
----------------------------------------------
Of fucking course. 
When you walk in behind Krystal and Sylvie to the gym, the first person you see is Hazel.
Your body immediately fills with rage. At this point, it’s starting to feel like you're more angry at yourself for crushing on someone you barely even know. But you believe in self-love so you plan to continue projecting your anger onto someone else. 
Everyone was milling about and chatting, you left your bag on the bleachers by everyone else’s and followed your friends to the middle of the gym. 
Stella-Rebecca caught your eye and waved, which you gladly returned before PJ stomped as hard as possible on the floor to get everyone's attention. 
“What time is it?!” She screamed and was answered by a chorus of “3:15”s 
“That’s right you sluts! It’s time to get down and dirty!” 
You couldn't help the look of mild disgust that passed across your features. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. After al, Sylvie made some seriously questionable choices- you thought you could trust Krystal though. 
“Alright cunts- who wants to start us of-” PJ started by being cut off by Hazel who whispered something to her and then directed PJ’s attention onto you with a point of her pen. “Well look what the cat dragged in.” PJ gave you an unimpressed look which made you roll your eyes. 
“I can leave if this is a closed cl-” You started to point behind you to the door but Josie stopped you by waving her hands
“No- no you're more than welcome. PJ just gets a little into it- you know flashbacks to juvie and all that.” Josie gives a reassuring (and awkward) smile.
You pursed your lips and nodded, “Cool.” out of the corner of your eye you could see Hazel giving Josie a thumbs up. 
“Well, Since you’re fresh blood let's see what you got,” PJ says while smiling at you. 
“Okay,” you shrug. “I really don’t know what I’m doing though so don’t expect much.” 
PJ just brushes you off, “Don’t worry. It’s mostly just instinct.”
You nod and step into the center of the circle of girls. Okay, maybe this was a stupid fucking idea. 
“Let's see…” PJ looks around the circle, trying to decide who to pair you up with. “Hazel- why don’t you hop in.” 
Hazel looks nervous, but she still nods and enters the ring, giving you a small smile and nod. 
You look at her blankly, “Now what?” you ask.
“Now you hit each other.” PJ claps her hands together, “Fucking beat each other the fuck up!” 
“What-” You can’t finish your question because Hazel deals a hard hit right to your gut. “Fuck!” you double over in shock before gathering yourself again. “What the fuck.” 
Hazel looks a little confused but motions to herself, “Hit me now- that's how this works.” 
You give her the best “what the fuck” look you can convey before settling into a fighting stance. You thought there'd be a little lead-up or something.
You swung and got in a decent hit to the side of Hazel's face. It left a stinging sensation on your knuckles but you tried to shake it off. 
The two of you exchanged a few more punches and kicks back and forth before Hazel managed to catch you completely off guard and- 
BAM 
Your ass hit the ground hard. “Fuck!” you couldn't help the curse from leaving your lips. You let yourself unfurl onto the ground and stared at the ceiling. The girls around you clapped as you tried to catch your breath. 
“Good fight,” Hazel said, reaching one of her hands out towards you on the ground. 
You just looked at her, “Yeah. Good...” Suddenly your head hurt a lot more than it did a minute ago. “Fight.” This was definitely a stupid fucking decision. Maybe this is what killed you. RIP the girl who got her lights knocked out but the girl who was both the love and hate of her life. 
You tried to sit up but the world was kinda spinning. 
“Hazel, how hard did you hit her?” Josie asked as she joined Hazel looking down at you. Hazel looked like a lost puppy. 
“I didn’t think it was that hard- are you okay.” 
You laughed not handling the embarrassment of the situation well, “I am so good actually.” You went to stand up but stumbled before your legs gave out putting you back on the floor. 
Hazel tried to grab at your hand to help you up but you retracted your hand on instinct. “Hold my hand.” 
“Absolutely not.” 
Silvie barked out a laugh- “damn rejected!”
Hazel looked at you- her big blue eyes filling with hurt. Fuck. You didn't want to have to see those sad puppy dog eyes. You took hold of her hand and let her pull you up. If you thought the world was spinning when you were sitting, now it was like you were on a tilt-a-whirl. “Shit.” you couldn't keep yourself upright and leaned into Hazel so you didn't fall back to the ground. 
“Uh- I’m gonna take her to get some water.” Hazel sounded very concerned but you giggled. This was so embarrassing. Not only were you weak in front of your enemy- but also your crush. “Oh my god, I think I broke her!” 
PJ scoffed, “You just gave her like a concussion- she’ll be fine.” You nodded to agree with PJ. 
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god…” Hazel mumbled as she walked you out of the gym.
“I’m so so sorry.” She continued to apologize to all the girl's bathrooms where she propped you against a sink. “I didn’t think I was that strong.” She gathered some paper towels and got them wet, dabbing them to your forehead. 
In all honesty, you feel fine now. The dizziness was gone and replaced with a dull ache. But you were kinda enjoying Hazel being all over you. 
“It’s fine. Don't worry about it.” 
“If you want to hit me I get it- I deserve it.”
You laughed, “Yeah you can say that again.” You needed to practice biting your damn tongue. 
“I’m so sorry- I can’t believe I did that- I always do something stupid around you. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard- I just can’t like to focus with you around and I’m sorry-” Hazel continued to ramble and you started to zone out a little before saying the only thing running through your mind. 
“You stole my table”
Hazel stopped talking and looked at you. “No, I didn’t”
“Yes, you did.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never stolen anything let alone a table- I don’t even know where I would’ve put-”
“No Hazel, my seat. In the lunch room.” 
She just stared at you and blinked. 
“You stole my spot- where I have sat every day for the last and you spilled coffee on my backpack and hit me in the face with volleyballs and… and… and now you gave me a concussion with your fists.” 
Hazel groaned and moved away from you holding her face in her hands, “Oh my god you must think I hate you.”
“Well yeah!” 
Hazel just groaned again. “I just like you.” 
“Oh yeah sure- wait- what did you just say?”
“I just like you okay,” She kicks the floor and starts to pout, “You’re just like really cool and like always around and you make me nervous.” 
“Oh my god.” 
“I know- i’m sorry- I knew you hated me cause of all that stuff”
“Oh my god-”
Hazel made more inhuman nosies as you started to laugh.
“Hazel what the actual fuck- you like me? You like me? For how long?” 
Hazel stopped with the noises “I don’t know? Like freshman year? Why?” 
“Despite all of the mishaps, and how much they pissed me off- I could not stop crushing on you… since freshman year.” 
Hazels jaw literally dropped, “What, no way?” 
“Yes way. Why didnt you just like talk to me?” 
“Well everytime I did I would somehow manage you hurt you.” 
You shook your head and laughed lighty, “thats actually fair, I can’t blame you for that.” 
She cracked a bit of a smile, relief from the last few seconds flooding over the both of you. 
“This is crazy.” 
You laughed, “it is. And to think all it took was you punching me to the ground.” 
She groaned, “god I really am sorry-”
“It’s fine- definitely worth it.” 
She smiled, “now what?” 
You shrugged, “I don’t know- we’ve wasted almost four years it seems like so theres no point in wasting any more.” 
She gave you a dopey look and figeted with the rings on her fingers.
“Hazel come here.” She followed your instructions obditally and stood in front of you- close enough that you could feel the gentle wind of her breath. 
You placed your hands on her shoulders, not entirely sure the right way to go about this- and maybe this was moving a bit fast and the common sense had gotten knocked out of your head but at this point you were kicking yourself for not making a move over the entrieity of your highschool career. 
Her eyes were open, glued to your lips. 
“Gotta start making up for all that lost time.” you leaned forward, barley brushing your lips together, when you pulled back Hazel stood completely still with her eyes shut tight. You smiled to yourself. “Do you want to..” Hazel keep her eyes shut but nodded. 
You leaned again, this time trying to add in some movement. It was painfully obvious that neither of you really knew what you were doing. Hazel seemed to have a sudden surge in confidence after accidentally (maybe?) bitting your lower lip which drew some type of sound from you. She stepped forward, pushing you aagint the bathroom sink and putting the two of you in a much more intainte position. 
Despite the awkwardness and surprise, it felt nice- or good? Something like that. You stopped anazlying everything and instead focused on the fact that their was a very attractive girl running her hands down your back and letting your shirt cover her finger tips as she explored you. 
The second you started to thank whatever god was a above that it was after school hours so the building was essentially vacant- the door brust open, followed by two very loud “fuck”s. 
Hazel rushed back away from you, her face already blushing a bright pink. 
PJ and Josie stood in the doorway- matching faces of shock painting their features. 
“No fucking way Hazel is getting puss before us.” PJ rolled her eyes. 
“Uh- sorry we just uh- you know- wanted to make sure you were good.” Josie was doing a horrible job hiding her uncomforatbleness as she questioned you with a thumbs up. 
You bit your lip to stop from laughing and gave her a thumbs up back, “Doing great in here. Thanks- but if you wouldn’t mind leaving-”
“Oh yeah! Yeah! For sure- we’ll let you two lovebirds get back to it.” Josie did a half bow before turning and pushing PJ out the door. 
You laughed as hazel just looked mortified, “we’ll continue this later, I think we should get back to the club though- kinda wanna see you lay some bitchs out.” 
She took a deep breath and patted down her shirt, before looking in the mirror and fixing her hair. 
You gave her another thumbs up before the two of you left the bathroom to go back to the gym. 
----------------------------------------------
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totheblood · 11 months
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GLORY & GORE
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CHAPTER ONE: NOW WE'RE IN THE RING
PAIRING: fwb!ellie williams x reader
SUMMARY: a week after you reunite with your estranged best friend, astrid, for the first time in three years, you are heartbroken to discover her sudden and brutal murder. as you dive deep into the world of sagewood university, you uncover astrid's ties to a shadowy society lurking within the institution's walls. in the midst of all of this, you cross paths with ellie, who you met on the very day you saw astrid again. as ellie helps you figure out what happened to your best friend, you're forced to wonder if everything with ellie is truly as it appears, and if trust can genuinely be given to anyone.
WARNINGS: 18+ SLIGHT SMUT mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x
A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3
WORD COUNT: 6.3k
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You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched as you stepped onto Sagewood University’s campus for the first time since Astrid’s death. 
You spent the days following Astrid’s death curled up on your couch, unmoving. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling as you let time pass by slowly, counting the clicks of the clock on your wall each second.
Your mom would check on you every now and then, before she had to leave for work or when she came back home. She would leave a plate of food on the coffee table near you, urging you to eat something, but you had no appetite. It was safe to say that you weren't taking Astrid's death well.
Suddenly, your phone chimed, a ringtone reserved for one person. 
ellie: You okay?
You picked up your phone, reading the message despite the LED lights burning your eyes. It was obvious to anyone that you weren't okay, so you declined to answer. You put your phone back on the table and stared at the same place on the ceiling. It was starting to look like a face, but you were almost sure you were hallucinating. 
The morning they found Astrid’s dead body sprawled out on a table in the library had started like a normal day for you. The sky was still dark when you woke up to your alarm and dragged yourself out of bed. You pulled on the grey hoodie that had been your staple all semester, paired with a red pair of sweatpants you had worn so much they were nearly falling apart. As you walked towards campus, the streets were silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the crunch of gravel beneath your sneakers. But when you reached the library all seemed eerily quiet; the wide glass windows had been frosted with police tape and blocked by large, black police cars. Fear started to sink into your stomach as groups huddled together, their hushed voices filled with whimpers and tears.
“Hey, uh,” you tapped one on the shoulder, “what happened?”
“They found some girl dead,” she replied in a low voice, “Can you believe it?” 
“Do they know who it is?” you asked. Deep in your heart you already knew it was her. 
From the very first day you met Astrid, you knew you had found your person. It was like finding the other piece to a two-piece puzzle. Simple, but rare. In elementary school, she was your personal hero, unafraid to get her hands dirty—or bloody, for that matter—when that kid shoved you during recess. 
Middle school was weird for everyone, but less so for you because you had Astrid. You two invented your own secret language, a series of squiggles and lines that looked like chicken scratch to anyone else. Those notes you passed weren't just ink on paper; they were secret jokes, each scribble another knot in the thread that connected you two.
High school rolled around, and the stakes got higher, the emotions deeper. You realized you liked girls, and the moment you told Astrid, the air between you changed—but not in the way you feared. It was as if she picked up the weight of the situation and took it on as her own, lightening your load just by being there, just by listening. She didn't offer grand gestures or theatrical declarations of support; she didn't need to. Instead, she guided you, step-by-step, through the maze of coming out, as if it was the most natural path you could walk together.
And maybe it was. Because when you look back on everything, every scraped knee and every coded note, every whispered secret and every shared challenge, it all led back to a simple, undeniable truth: life was messy and confusing and downright hard sometimes—but less so with Astrid by your side.
College was supposed to be a fresh chapter, a new horizon where you and Astrid could explore the world as adults. But instead, it turned into a ripping of a page you never saw coming. Within the first week, something broke. Conversations turned into awkward exchanges, laughter gave way to silence, and the natural ease you'd always felt around her failed to exist. You guys just stopped clicking and after a big argument, you stopped hanging out altogether. She became someone you used to know, a piece of your past.
Time went by, and you got used to life without Astrid. Then, out of the blue, you got a text from her last week. She said she wanted to meet up.
She asked to meet at the campus coffee shop, Brain Brew, on a Tuesday morning. It was practically empty in there when you arrived, something that it almost never was. You came early, thinking you would need to find a seat, but now looking at all the empty chairs was less of a concern. 
Behind the bar stood a girl, with short auburn hair and freckles littered across her face, on her phone. When you approached, she straightened up, looking surprised to see you. You read the name on her nametag: Ellie. 
“Uh,” she looked you up and down briefly, “what can I get for you?” 
“What's good?” you asked, eyes scanning the expansive menu ranging from lavender latte's to plain black coffee. 
“Anything I make is good,” she shrugged, eyes still waiting for a response. 
“Then, just an iced vanilla latte,” you ordered, tapping your fingers on the counter. She tapped your order into the tablet in front of her and then stopped for a minute, looking you over again. 
“You go to Sagewood?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“Yea,” your brows knit together, as you shifted uncomfortably in your place, “Why?”
“I just feel like I’ve seen you before,” she commented, the price of your latte lighting up on the screen in front of you, “6.74.”
Jesus fuck, you thought, this is why I don't come here. 
“It’s a big campus, you’ve probably just seen me around or something,” you tapped your card, looking back up at her, scanning her face to see if you remembered her from anywhere. Then it clicked, “Did you go to Weston Middle School?”
“Shit,” she breathed, shaking her head and laughing, “yea, for a year.”
“I remember you,” you laughed, a smile spread across your face, “you used to eat lunch alone every day and when I tried to sit next to you you told me to ‘Fuck off’.”
You saw her physically wince as she pulled your receipt out of the dispenser, “Fuck,” she shook her head again, closing her eyes painfully, “I’m sorry, that was not a good year for me.”
“I don't think 11 is a good year for anyone,” you joked back, taking your receipt from her, “It’s all good, don't worry about it.” 
She let out a little laugh, her cheeks growing a tinge darker as she scratched the back of her neck, “I’ll get that drink started for you,” she moved towards the espresso machine before stopping and turning back towards you, “Wait, can I get your name?” She paused for a moment, examining the expression on your face, “For the order.”
Smiling, you gave her your name, and stood at the end of the counter, waiting for your drink. Astrid was now five minutes late, and you just realized she may be standing you up. 
“Do you go to Sagewood?” you asked Ellie from across the espresso machine. She looked up at you over the machine, waiting for the espresso to brew. 
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “for psych.”
“Oh, you want to be a therapist?” you leaned your hands on the counter looking around the empty room. 
“Something like that,” she breathed out a laugh, eyes flicking up to you for a moment, “What are you doing?”
“Journalism,” you smiled, watching as she made your drink, “Do you think I could get your number?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could think. You watched as the smile from her face fell, the blood that was in her cheeks being replaced with pale skin.
“Oh, uh” she fumbled over her words almost dropping the cup of milk she was holding, “I don’t really date, it not my-”
“Oh, not like that,” you cut her off, trying to save yourself the embarrassment, “Just like as friends, I don’t really have that many around campus.” 
“Oh,” she breathed out a laugh, relief flooding her features, “Yeah, sure then. I’d love to be friends.”
When she handed you her drink she handed you her phone with the contacts app already open. You took your coffee and the phone, smiling slightly as you put your name and number in. 
“Here,” you giggled, “sorry if that was weird. I wasn’t like coming on to you or anything. I mean not that you aren’t attractive cause you are- But it’s also not like I’m not into girls, cause I am. Jesus fuck,” you whispered under your breath, “It’s just that I also... Don’t date,” you lied. 
You watched the permanent smirk on her face as you rambled off and she took her phone back and let out another breathy laugh. 
“Well, it’s not that you aren’t attractive either,” she rubbed the back of her neck, watching intently as you sipped your drink, “so if you wanted to like, I don’t know, hook up sometime, I would be down for that.” 
You practically choked on your latte when she said that, eyes wide as you tried to cover up your spluttering with a cough, “Um, yeah. That sounds cool, or whatever.” 
“Cool,” she pursed her lips, nodding before turning back to wipe the counter down, “I’ll text you.”
As if it was fate the bell rang behind you, signaling Astrid’s entrance. You turned to look at her and give her a once over. She looked a lot more frazzled since you last saw her, her blond hair was still as long and came past her shoulders, but it was frizzier as if she had just woken up. The circles under her eyes were more prominent, and when you smiled at her, she didn’t smile back. You didn’t want to approach her first, so you just waited until she came up to you and gave you a hint of a smile. 
“Should we sit?” She asked, her voice much raspier now as she looked around to the empty cafe, the tension in her body easing up.
“Sure,” you followed her lead as she led you to the back, away from any windows and farther away from the bar. You looked over to where Ellie was still working, wondering how loud you would need to shout for her to hear you. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you started, noticing her slightly anxious state as she took shallow breaths, “I mean, I missed you.”
“This isn’t about us,” her voice was cold when she spoke, the words hurting you more than you thought it would, “I just think you are the only person I can trust.”
“Okay,” you took a sip of your latte, nursing it in your hands, “do you need to tell me something?”
“No,” she took a deep breath, “Just that if something happens to me, it will have to be you to figure out who does it.” 
“Jesus,” you breathed out, leaning in to whisper back, “What the fuck have you gotten into, A?” 
She winced at the sound of her nickname, looking down at the table before looking around again at the still-empty cafe, “I should be fine,” she sighed, “but if I’m not, you will know what to do.”
“How the fuck would I know what to do?” you spoke a little louder, throwing your hands up dramatically as you leaned back, “I mean this is ridiculous, you completely blow me off freshman year and now you’re telling me I have to worry about someone who doesn’t even want to be my friend anymore?”
“You’re being melodramatic,” she blinked a few times, before sitting up straight, “I didn’t come here to fight you.” 
“No, you just came to make sure I’d be there whenever you got yourself into trouble,” your voice was harsh as you stood up from your seat abruptly, ready to leave. 
“Please, sit down,” she urged, looking up at you with her big round eyes.
“No, thanks,” you replied sarcastically, giving her a fake smile, “Go fuck yourself.”
Go fuck yourself. 
That was the last thing you ever told Astrid before she was murdered. 
The guilt followed you all the way back home that night in stunned silence. You were too shocked to even tell your professor you weren’t coming to class that day, missing a midterm. You knew you would make it up eventually, but now, all you could do was sit and stare and hope to wake up from whatever nightmare you were living. 
To make matters worse, as you sat on your bed, still dressed in your clothes from earlier a note was slipped under your door. A thick cream cardstock, with embossed trimmings covered in gold, and written delicately on the front in script, “Keep your mouth shut, or you’re next.”
At the time, you immediately threw it out, not thinking much of it. Your brain was stuffed with things you didn’t want to think about, flashes of your childhood coming back in brief intervals. The vision of the two of you at the carnival, faces stuffed with cotton candy, giggling as you boarded the Ferris Wheel for the first time on your own came back first. You remember going around with her three times until the sun went down and the houses began to look like stars in the sky. Lit up and far away.
Another memory flashed, her crying in your lap in the 8th grade. Jason Charnley rejected her when she asked him if they could go to the dance together. Innocently, you offered to go with her as you stroked her hair, the cries dying out as you cracked joke after joke. By the time she was supposed to go home, she had forgotten what she was even upset about. 
Then a memory of senior year when she showed up on your front step, a giant envelope addressed to her with a giant “Sagewood” on the front. She knew she was accepted from the moment she applied, but the confirmation was validation enough. What really surprised her was your admission, meaning you’d follow after her to college as you usually did.
Then a memory flashed from a week ago, an unknown number lit up your screen the night you met Astrid in the cafe. 
ellie: Hey, this is Ellie.
ellie: From Brain Brew.
you: wrong number
you: but what are you wearing, ellie?
ellie: Nvm.
you: stooooop come back
you: i was being annoying, i apologize
you: what are you doing rn?
ellie: Come find out. 
That’s how you found yourself pressed up against Ellie’s door, her knee wedged in between your legs, a small whimper falling from your lips that were wrapped up in Ellie’s. Ellie's lips were soft and full, her touch gentle, calloused hands gripping your clothed waist. You could feel her heart pounding in time with your own, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
Your hands, no longer under your own control, moved around her waist to pull her closer still, while her hands roamed over your back, exploring, caressing. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt her hands roam up your body
The kiss deepened as you explored each other’s mouths with your tongues. Her lips were insistent, demanding as if she couldn't get enough of you. You were overwhelmed by the taste of her, a mix of mint and coffee. She slipped her hands under your shirt, her hands traveling up your back, causing goosebumps to rise exclusively where she touched. Her hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it, her mouth never leaving yours as you moaned into her mouth. Ellie’s hands, still under your shirt, moved to cup your tits in her hand, pushing you back against the door as she did so. 
She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed and sloppy kisses on your skin. Her teeth nipped at the skin on your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her hands began teasing your nipples with gentle squeezes and flicks. She was relishing in every sound you made, every way you squirmed underneath her touch. She could feel herself getting wet from the small sounds alone. Then you moaned out loud as Ellie's lips found their way to your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as hers, and she was gone completely.
Her hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, over the curve of your hips, until they reached the waistband of your pants. Before you knew it, her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, two fingers circling your clit as she worked you.
“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, “this is for me?” The sound of her fingers and your cunt made an obscene noise, her fingers now completely coated in you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons of Ellie's shirt, desperate to feel her skin against yours. You popped them off one by one, fingers faltering as she touched you, revealing her toned stomach, and you couldn't help but run your hands at the place right above her worn-out jeans, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your touch.
Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching her face for any regret, any idea that you wanted to back out now. "You want this?" she whispered, her voice low and rough. You nodded, unable to form words as your body leaned into her.
----
That’s all you remembered that night, slipping out sometime before Ellie woke up. You assumed that since this was “strictly a hookup” she wouldn’t want to see you there in the morning. She did vaguely reference you sleeping over, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 
So before the sun came up, you slipped from Ellie’s grip, slipping on the clothes you came in and doing the infamous walk of shame back to your dorm. This wasn’t a relationship, and the proactive version of yourself had to be reminded of that many times that week.
You began to think that if you maybe hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in Ellie the week after meeting with Astrid, you would have noticed something. Maybe even have been able to prevent her death. A part of you wanted to resent Ellie for that, but you knew at the end of the day you were trying to put the blame on anyone but yourself.
She reached out for help, but you denied her. 
The best friend you swore to protect, who swore to protect you was now dead, and you could have prevented it. Wallowing in it wasn’t helping much, but provided some emotion to feel other than numb. So back in your childhood home, your fingers lingered over Ellie’s contact, wondering if you should text her back. You didn’t have a plan to return back to school yet and you didn’t want to give her false hope.
Maybe she could fuck the grief out of you, or wrap her to-
you: as good as i can be
ellie: This sucks.
you: truer words have never been spoken
ellie: But hey, I need to talk to you. Do you know when you’ll be back on campus?
ellie: I’m not trying to like fuck you or anything cause that would be fucked up.
ellie: Ignore that last message. I’m just realizing now how weird that was. I'm sorry.
ellie: Anyways, I just need to talk to you about something, it’s serious. Don’t wanna text it to you.
you: i should be back soon, i don't know yet. 
ellie: Well, when you do come back, let me know.  
You stared at your phone, your fingers ghosting over Ellie’s message before deciding to reply with a thumbs up. Pathetic, but it was all you could muster as you finally sat up and ate the food your mom left for you. It was about time to return to your life, falling behind not being an option anymore.
You worked too hard to get into Sagewood in the first place to stop now, a year before you were set to graduate. Sagewood was on par with the Ivy League schools, bearing an acceptance rate of 9% and accepting students internationally. There were about a thousand on-campus clubs, sororities, and study groups. There were even rumored secret societies, but you were never one to believe in that sort of thing. People who graduated with a degree from Sagewood were set for life. There was no room to screw up three years of good grades okay grades. 
So that’s how you found yourself back on campus, tightly gripping the straps of your bag. As if snapped back into reality, the memories of that night flooded back. You just began to remember the note you threw away that threatened your life, as you made your way to your morning class, an unsettling feeling setting in your stomach. It almost felt as if you were being watched. 
As you sat in class, you shuffled in your seat as the kid a few rows in front of you turned to look at you. When he noticed you staring back he turned around quickly. The whole class you had your eyes trained on the back of his head, watching as he would occasionally look at you, notice you looking, and turn back around. You knew you were being paranoid when you first walked onto campus, but now you felt validated.
As the teacher dismissed the class, the kid who kept staring at you collected his things and attempted to leave the room quickly, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You rushed to meet him at the door and stood in front of him, a bitter look on your face. 
“You’ve got a staring problem,” you commented accusingly, hands folding across your chest.
“You’re just really,” he coughed, looking around as other people pushed past you to the exit, the professor included, “pretty. You’re pretty, that’s why I was staring.”
“I know I am,” you turned to shut the door behind the last person exiting the room, “but do you really think I’m that stupid? What gives?”
“I’m late for my clas-” he began to stumble out before you took another menacing step towards him. 
“You won’t make it there if you don’t tell me why the fuck you were staring at me,” you pointed a finger right in the center of his chest, making him gulp loudly. 
“It’s just,” he takes another step back, “you were friends with the dead girl.”
“The dead girl?” you spat back at him, your tone laced with venom, “Her name was Astrid, you dick.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He breathed out, “I’m just a true crime junkie, I’m intrigued about her case.”
“Her case?” you questioned him, taking a step back to make him feel more comfortable. To make him open up to you. 
“Just that they have no leads yet,” he scoffed, “which is weird if you ask me. No suspects yet she’s killed in a very public place?”
“That happens all the time,” you retorted, hands still crossed protectively across your chest.
“It’s not as common as you think,” he shrugged, “they haven’t questioned you yet?”
Now that he brought it up, the whole situation was weird. If they were trying hard to find out what happened to her, why weren’t you called in for questioning? It wasn’t like you had done it, but you did have a motive, and you had just come into contact with her again, shortly before her murder. If there was any person to question, it would be you, but yet here you were, untouched.
“No, they haven’t,” you mumbled back, your mind moving a million miles per minute. 
“See,” he smirked, “weird.”
“Wipe that stupid ass smile off your face,” you spat back, “she’s still dead, and just because you ‘like true crime’ doesn’t give you a right to talk about her. It’s not like you’re going to solve her murder.”
“I just might,” he stated simply.
“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, turning towards the door to leave now.
“Did you know she was part of a secret society?” he questioned, making you still for a moment.
You turned back around to face him, eyes squinted again, arms crossed firmly over your chest, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head, something sinister in the way he hung his head, “I do my research and I do it well.”
“You sound like a nutcase,” you spat again, trying to stop the anger from bubbling inside of you. It felt weird to talk about Astrid as if she was a mystery. In all the people in the world, you knew her the best. You knew each and every corner of her life, even when you weren’t speaking. But now, as you stood here, you weren’t sure you ever knew her at all. 
“They are called Oculus Noctis,” he shrugged again, standing up taller as if he had just won this fight, or whatever this was, “look them up, then come find me,” he walked closer to you now, making you want to cower away, but you didn’t. You planted your feet down, straightening your posture. Although he looked more confident now, you could tell he was still intimidated by you, “my name’s Corbin Nott. I run a podcast, look me up too.”
Smiling, he brushed past you leaving you standing alone in the room. You let out what felt like a deep breath you were holding for a while, your breath coming out shallow and shaky.  Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest, and come out of your ears and nose as you bled out on the floor, but you just stayed unmoving taking deep breaths as you placed a hand over your chest to steady yourself. 
Your hands began to shake a little, trembling as you moved to sit down at one of the desks, a failed attempt at calming yourself. The breaths came quicker as it started to feel like you couldn’t breathe, like your heart was pumping blood into your lungs and you were drowning. Your vision blurred as you stared at the desk, which was now full of wet droplets. Were you crying? You lifted a shaky hand to wipe at your cheeks, and as you expected you felt your damp skin covered in tears. 
You were trying hard to collect yourself now, knowing that students from the next class would probably start flooding in and you wouldn’t be able to move. You would just sit at a front desk crying as whatever poor professor tried to teach. C’mon get it together, get it fucking together, you thought. What was it they said to do? 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, and the other three got lost on you. 
You looked around, and through teary eyes you could see a clock on the wall, ticking slower than usual. You could see the whiteboard in front of you, smugged with black dry-erase markers, and you could see the dark hardwood floors, clean and polished. You watched your hands and your tears on the desk and suddenly your breathing started to feel normal.
Thank god you did because by the time you were wiping your last tear from your eyes, the door to the classroom was swinging open and a student was walking in. You kept your head down, so they wouldn’t see your teary eyes and red nose, but that also stopped you from seeing them. So when the person called your name out, you had to look up, only to see…
“Ellie,” you mumbled, watching the smile on her face drop as her eyes scanned your face. Gripping her backpack straps she walked closer to you slowly, crouching down in front of the desk you were sitting at. Her green eyes darted from your eyes to your nose, to your lips, and to the desk, clearly wet.
“Hey,” she whispered, “are you okay?” She reluctantly reached a hand out to wipe at your face, unsure if you were okay with being touched or if you even liked to be comforted. She wiped a tear away from your cheek, her calloused thumb rubbing your cheek gently, “What happened?”
“I-I’m fine,” you stuttered out, closing your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, “Still upset I guess,” you let out a shaky laugh, hoping to see a small smile on Ellie’s face as you opened your eye, but she just looked worried. Her brow wrinkled a bit, and it looked as if she was still searching for something in your eyes, but was coming up empty. She cleared her throat before looking away, retracting her hand from her face. 
“You’re not fine.” She grumbled back, standing up now, causing you to look up at her, “You shouldn’t be back here so soon.”
“What?” you joked, “Not excited to see me?”
She rolled her eyes playfully, a small blush tinted on her face as she nudged your shoulder lightly, “Not excited at all,” she commented sarcastically, making you crack a bigger smile, “c’mon let’s get out of here,” she motioned her head to the door, making you stand up shakily and stand in front of her. 
“Don’t you have class?” you asked, your own expression laced with worry. You watched as her face softened slightly at this, pursing her lips and looking you up and down. 
“I can skip it,” she shrugged, “plus, I wanted to talk to you.” 
You let out a small laugh, “God, you sound obsessed with me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed you, walking towards the door, pulling it open, and holding it for you, “C’mon, let’s go.”
Giving her a small smile you walked out with her, your hands placed firmly in your pockets. You stepped out onto the main grass of Sagewood, where people were sitting, laughing, as their lives moved on. The smell of the grass was strong, as you walked down the cobbled path, Ellie looking at you quickly before taking a deep breath. 
“So, I went by your room the day after your friend-” she started, 
“Astrid,” you practically whispered back.
‘Astrid,” she paused, “After she died,” she cleared her throat, “I’m so sorry by the way.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to say that.”
“Sorry,” she cleared her throat, “Anyways, I went there the day after and you weren’t there, but there was this book on your desk.”
“What?” you stopped in your tracks looking at her, “There was no book on my desk when I got back.” 
“I know,” she sighed, looking around, “I took it,” she watched as your eyes widened and you took a step back.
“Why the fuck would you take something off my desk?” you questioned, anger written all over your face. Ellie shifted uncomfortably, chewing on her bottom lip as you questioned her.
“Because it was Astrid’s, and I thought,” her voice died out, and your wide eyes just pressed her on, your arms once again folding over your chest.  
“You thought what?” 
“I thought that it was evidence,” she breathed out, “I thought that if they found that in your room it would be pinned on you.”
“You think I killed her?” your voice was loud now, making people around you stop and stare. Ellie looked around uncomfortably, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath. 
“Of course not!” she whisper yelled back, “You were at mine the night she was murdered, but if they found that in your room, it would have been on you.”
“So, you stole it,’ you deadpanned, eyebrows raised and accusing, “Why do you even care if I go down for it? You barely know me.”
“Because believe it or not, you are one of my only friends,” she looked away, her arms crossing over her chest as if to protect herself, “Like ever. So forgive me if I didn’t want you to be framed for murder.”
Your expression softened, arms falling to your sides as you looked up at her and then back at the ground, “I appreciate that.” 
“You can have it back, obviously,” she mumbled, eyes trained on her own shoes as her arms uncrossed and her fingers began to play with each other, “I just… didn’t want you to get in trouble. It’s all gibberish anyways, just a bunch of words that don't make sense.”
That made your heart stop, as you blinked up at her. “What did you just say?” She looked up at you, shrugging as she rolled her eyes.
“The journal, it’s like just a bunch of random words, I tried to find out what language it was but I came up short,” she was still playing with her fingers, obviously nervous as she picked at her nails, “But, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. It was a weird thing to do.”
“I still want to be your friend, Ellie,” you sighed, “I just need to see this journal, like now,” you watched as a small smile flashed across her face and he shoulders seemed to lose all their tension.
“Yeah, we could head over to my dorm right now,” she began walking, turning her head back to make sure you were following her, “I’m sorry agai-”
“Ellie, if you apologize again I’ll jump you,” you teased, smiling up at her as you walked side by side.
“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” she teased back, voice low as she let out a small laugh.
-
As you walked into Ellie’s dorm, you instantly became nervous again, your guilt creeping up the back of your neck. The night Astrid was killed, you were in bed with Ellie, laughing as she traced circles into your inner thigh. She talked about how much she hated her professors, working and Brain Brew, and how weird everyone on campus was. Well, everyone except for you. 
That night you stayed up and watched 30 Rock on Hulu until Ellie fell asleep, Ellie’s laughter gradually fading into soft snores. Her head found a resting spot on your shoulder, her rhythmic breaths warming your neck. You slipped out quietly, walking back to your dorm with a shit-eating grin on your face, and fell asleep unassuming. 
Your fingers traced the outline of Ellie’s desk, as you eyed Astrid’s journal that was sat in the center of it. It was covered in green felt, her name embossed on the front of it in gold letters. You pulled out the chair in front of the desk, sitting at it to begin reading the book. You paused for a moment, wondering if you even wanted to open it. Flipping open the front page, there was the language you created in middle school on every page. Pages and pages, the book was filled. When Astrid said it would be up to you to solve her murder, she meant it literally. 
On the front page was printed “Fepi Quslo Vurte Dabru” which translates to “My Oculus Noctis Journey.”
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, finger brushing over the letters on the page, feeling the imprint the pen made on the paper. 
“What?” Ellie stepped forward, looking over your shoulder at the book, “You know what this says?”
You sighed deeply, eyes trained on the words, “Yeah,” you turned to look up at her, “I do.”
“How?” her tone was more curious than shocked, sitting on her bed as she watched you. 
“It’s a language we created in middle school,” you closed the book, stuffing it in your bag as you turned to stare at Ellie. You watched as she looked at you in amazement, eyes wide and mouth hung open. 
“You created a fucking language?” she asked, laughing a little, “Jesus, you Sagewood students are crazy.”
“Ellie, you also go here,” you laughed, leaning your elbow on the desk, “Plus, Astrid mostly created it. She was smart like that.”
Ellie looked at you again, a small smile playing on her face, “You’re smart too, you know.”
“Not as smart as she was,” your smile turned to a sad one as you looked at your knees, not wanting to cry again.
“Hey,” Ellie said, voice low as she tried to get your attention. When you looked up, she smiled at you, eyes soft, “You're really fucking smart, just remember that.”
You gave her a forced smile, looking back down at your feet, “Thank you,” your voice came out cracked, “I needed that.”
“What did the first page say?” 
“My Oculus Noctis Journey,” you replied, shrugging. 
“Oh shit,” she laughed, “she was involved with those freaks?”
You sat up straight at this, scanning her face, “You know about them?” 
“Sadly,” she replied nonchalantly, “I don't know much about them except that they exist. They tried to recruit me, but I don't think they know that I know that it was them.”
“What? What do you mean?” you asked eagerly, words coming out quickly. 
“They recruit people on campus but they make it seem like they are just regular clubs,” she recounted, “Like they had a ‘coding club’ and at the club fair they had this code that they asked people to encrypt, it was extremely hard too. I did it and they sent me this weird email, asking me to do more shit. I just kind of didn't respond but traced the email to their own web service.”
“I thought that the secret society stuff was just like rumors.”
“Nope,” she popped her lips on the ‘p’, “Real shit. I just don't know what they exist for or anything.”
“I think I may have to figure that out.”
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whoopsyeahokay · 5 months
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October Sun
summary: Simon had been on the verge of getting the fuck out of Dodge, the enormity of everything he'd found out starting to bog him down. He hadn't been able to do it alone, not anymore, not even for Maddie. Thankfully, the universe had heard him and had held out an olive branch.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.11
Simon crept to his car, a tactical advance, hunched low to the ground and clinging to the shadows as far as they would take him. He was afraid, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding in his ears; he didn't want Mr. Anderson to find him sneaking around the school a second time. Not after what he and Maddie had uncovered in the supply closet.
Mr. Anderson had propelled up Simon's short list of suspects to the top spot, the cache of money a sure sign the man was up to no good. Simon didn't have a lot of experience with society's seedy underbelly, but if movies had taught him anything, it's that normal people didn't hide stacks of cash outside of their homes unless they expected a police raid.
Was Mr. Anderson a drug dealer? Some kind of kingpin moonlighting as a high school English teacher? It was the perfect disguise. Cops would never think of a man who works with teenagers capable of that level of corruption. At least, not in Split River. No matter how many problems the town had, it wasn't that degree of shitty.
Only, Mr. Anderson had seemed nervous; a man forced onto a ledge at gunpoint. Threatened. Scared.
Okay, Simon reasoned, so Mr. Anderson wasn't a high-ranking drug lord. But he was definitely on the wrong side of the law and was obviously desperate. And desperate people were unpredictable when they felt backed into a corner.
He'd claimed he'd given Maddie what sounded like had been a large sum of money. A bribe, maybe. One that, in the end, hadn't been enough to convince Mr. Anderson she wouldn't rat on him. The thought made Simon's stomach churn, bile burning the back of his throat.
Maddie had been wrecked by the discovery, hands shaking from a surge of emotion too enormous to contain. She'd held it together long enough to caution Simon not to contaminate the evidence by touching it, assuring him she'd count it after he was safely off campus.
She'd shooed him from the classroom, "You have to leave, now," eyes watery as Mr. Anderson's betrayal had finally seemed to register. "I've got this, okay? Just go."
Simon had done as ordered. What good would he be if Mr. Anderson took him out next?
He peeled out of the parking lot and into the road, lightheaded as a thousand and one questions flooded his brain. His chest tightened, breathing labored, and—God, shit, he hadn't had a panic attack since middle school but, since Maddie's disappearance last Friday, they'd made a grand comeback. Kept him awake at night when there was nothing left to distract him from what could've happened to his best friend.
"Fuck." Simon rasped, smacking the steering wheel with his palm. And then, increasing in volume and intensity, "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" He beat the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn once and startling a woman walking her dog.
"Sorry!" He called, sheepish, through the open driver's side window, flashing a hand in apology. He didn't wait for a reaction, simply continued to drive home.
The thought of interacting with his parents put him on edge. He didn't know how he was supposed to stay quiet about Mr. Anderson. Noticeably off the last few days, Simon had already endured three separate lectures about drug use, depression, and sexuality respectively.
His parents' unconditional support, though amazing, made him feel like garbage—or, more accurately, a landfill—for causing them to worry to the point of draping a rainbow flag over the back of the couch and reassuring him that, "Love is love, mijo. We just want you to be happy."
Even if he could slip past his dad, his mother would undoubtedly pick up that whatever plot she suspected Simon of hiding had thickened. And, frankly, if she asked just right, Simon knew he'd crack and tell her everything. About Xavier, about Mr. Anderson...about developing The fucking Shining and assuming the role of Watson to his best friend's ghost.
Buying himself some time, Simon took turns he didn't have to; drove through random neighborhoods as he tried to think up a plausible excuse for his behavior that wouldn't result in another intervention. He didn't have it in him to watch his mother's face crumple as he lied to her again. The umpteenth time that week.
He needed to talk to someone. To get it out of himself and share the burden. His skin felt too tight and his bones too heavy and he couldn't carry the weight of Maddie's murder mystery alone.
And then, as if God had heard him, Simon's prayers were answered.
Without thinking it through, he pulled over and beeped his horn to get your attention before you turned onto the path that margined the small, neighborhood greenspace.
Clambering sideways to get out of his car, his foot caught on a pedal, seatbelt still hooked, Simon called out, "Hey!" grunting when he was knocked back into his seat by the strap. He took a second to collect himself, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out in a less frenzied manner.
"Uhhhmm, are you okay?" You asked, your face displaying how not okay you thought Simon was. You glanced up and down the street, puzzled, "What are you doing here? Don't you live in Cedar Bank?" A suburb on the other side of the river that bisected the town.
Simon debated whether or not it had been a good idea to stop, but he didn't think he could give you an excuse and drive away, either. He dimly sympathized with how Mr. Anderson had felt back in that classroom; splitting threads pulled through the eye of a needle.
He summoned his resolve and turned to face you, "I need to tell you something."
You cocked your head, looked Simon over, and nodded slowly. Simon could tell you were trying to determine what this was about. Realized as you walked him into the little playpark and took a seat on one of the two swings, that he'd come out of nowhere in a move that could easily be interpreted as stalkerish.
"I could give you a lift home if you wanna talk in the car?" He offered, settling into the second swing all the same. The park was deserted, dark, the glow of the streetlights falling short by a few meters.
You shook your head and hooked your thumb over your shoulder, "That's literally my backyard."
Simon followed your indication and saw the top half of an antique build, painted a deep royal purple and trimmed in evergreen, that peaked over a tall, bushy hedgerow. A wooden fence several inches shorter than your family's hedges divided the public space from private property, running the length of the park behind your house and a few others.
"Huh." Simon returned his gaze to yours, "Never mind."
"Did you talk to Nicole?" You asked, possibly thinking that that was what Simon wanted to discuss.
He fiddled with his hands, closed his eyes, and supported his head on the metal chain that held the swing up. "No." He stated honestly. He needed to tell you about Mr. Anderson. Just. Start talking. But the words kept sticking in this throat.
"Simon? You're starting to scare me, is everything okay? Is this..." You trailed off and when you spoke again, you sounded worried, "Is this about Maddie?"
"Kind of," Simon admitted, pressing the meat of his palms into his eyes. "Screw it," He spun the swing so he faced you completely and then uncorked the bottle, "I found a shit ton of money in Mr. Anderson's classroom. Like, wads of it. Probably thousands of dollars hidden in the wall in the closet."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
What the f u u u u u u ck.
One minute you'd been on your way home, trying to parse out why the connection between you and Wally had gone dormant as soon as you'd left him, and now, there you were, listening to Simon basically tell you that he'd unmasked Mr. Anderson like a Scooby-Doo villain.
You didn't have that on your Everything is FUBAR bingo card, that's for sure.
Okay. Okay. This was...big. Huge. And, "Holy shit, maybe it has to do with why he freaked on me in the theater," you said, mostly to yourself though you knew Simon would hear it.
"He what?"
You looked at Simon, "Earlier, I was—" Lie like a smart girl, "—looking for something Tilly forgot in the theater and he found me. But, Simon," You stood, started to pace, "He was acting paranoid like I found his dead mom à la Norman Bates. He practically threw me out of there." Which was, fine, a mild exaggeration, but Mr. Anderson's paranoia hadn't been. "I've never seen him like that. And he kept getting these phone calls that made him even more angry."
"Wait, what do you mean 'phone calls'? Did you hear anything?"
"No, just that he needed a minute. I guess to go find somewhere I wouldn't hear him."
Simon was standing now, pacing in a pattern the opposite of yours.
"He was on the phone when I saw him. Talking to someone about how he shouldn't have given Maddie money."
You felt like the sky had fallen on your head, "He gave Maddie money? Is that why she..." You'd wanted to say ran away, a kneejerk reaction borne from days of convincing yourself she'd just put Split River in the rearview. With what you knew now, you settled for, "Disappeared?"
Simon appeared to notice your choice of wording, peered at you like a math problem, but didn't mention it, instead revealing, "It's a line of inquiry."
You rubbed your temples to ease away the migraine that was building. Today had been too much; too many things unfolding one after the other: First hearing from Wally that Maddie was a ghost, and then just Wally and everything you had to unpack with that, and now Mr. Anderson's apparent criminal activity that may or may not have had a direct impact on Maddie's being a ghost in the first place.
Of course, you reminded yourself, she wasn't a ghost because you couldn't see. her. Which meant that, if he was involved, Mr. Anderson had drugged her to the point of a coma and had hidden her body somewhere.
"Oh my God," You moaned dismally, "This is so f u c k e d." As the gears turned, a thought clawed for your attention. "Simon," you ceased pacing to lift your gaze and regard Simon closely, "Why were you there?"
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Simon knew he had to give you something, but, Jesus Christ, he was nervous. He'd already decided not to admit he could see Maddie, unable to believe that you wouldn't tell a trusted adult. And he wasn't keen on getting pumped full of antipsychotics and locked in a padded room, thanks.
You watched him, eyes hard, jaw set, more serious than he'd ever seen you, "Simon, what the hell?"
He swallowed, opting for half-truths, because he'd come this far. He needed help. A confidante. Would've preferred Nicole but she'd galivanted off with Xavier, apparently, and took the choice out of Simon's hands.
"I've been looking for clues about what happened to Maddie," Simon confessed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "Since the search on Monday, when Xavier got arrested—"
You interrupted, fierce, loyal, "He wasn't arrested, Si. His dad was just taking him to the station to give an official statement."
"In the back seat?" Simon deadpanned.
"There's no room in the front of the cruiser!" You threw your hands up as if dealing with the situation would drive you to drink.
"With the lights on?"
"Because there was a crowd of people practically throwing themselves at the car to get Xavier's face on video."
Simon conceded and resituated himself on one of the swings. You followed his example, though, this time, you shrugged off your backpack and dropped it in the sand beside you.
"So, what do we do?" Simon wanted to know, close to getting on his knees and begging you to take the reigns on this because he was exhausted.
"Alright." You shifted to straddle your swing, hands in front of you as you counted details on your fingers. "We know that Maddie went missing on Friday. We know Xavier had nothing to do with it." Your eyes narrowed, daring Simon to comment. He didn't. "We know that Mr. Anderson is hiding money and that he gave some to Maddie. To keep her quiet?"
"That's what we-" Simon tensed, quickly undoing his mistake, "I'm thinking."
That intense look of scrutiny was back on your face and Simon resisted the urge to gulp. Three days ago Simon had figured you for the only person who'd believe him about Maddie's ghost. My how times have changed.
"If he was hiding money in his classroom, he could be hiding other things around the school, too." You rationalized. "Like the theater. I bet you anything that there's something in there he doesn't want us to find."
True. In fact, "Do you think he's hiding Maddie in there?"
"What, like, under the stage? That'd be pretty risky. And the cops went through every room in the school with search and rescue dogs and everything. Wouldn't they have found her if she was down there?"
Simon deflated, "Good point," reluctant to add that those dogs probably weren't the type trained to find cadavers.
"Right." You paused, either to organize your thoughts or analyze Simon further, he wasn't sure, but you soon continued, tone weak, "Simon, if he did have something to do with Maddie...I take back what I said before."
"About?"
You shrunk into yourself, forcing, "Maddie being okay," as if the words had to be wrenched out of you. "I don't want to believe Mr. Anderson could've hurt her but..." You blinked a rapid dozen times up at the sky, visibly shaken as you considered the worst, "I don't think she's okay."
A lump formed in Simon's throat. He was all too aware of the painful truth. His vision blurred, nostrils prickled, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.
"Yeah," He sniffed, "Me neither."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Neither you nor Simon were aware that, only ten feet away, crouched in the bushes, a figure wearing Simon's best friend's face had heard everything.
Cold.
Hungry.
And without an iota of guilt.
💀___________________________
PART TEN - PART TWELVE
also available on AO3!
MASTERLIST
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starry-bi-sky · 5 months
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I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.
Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.
Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.
Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.
Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.
I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.
[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]
Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.
But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.
I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.
Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.
But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.
Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.
Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.
.
Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.
However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.
So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)
If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.
(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)
Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.
.
Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.
(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)
So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.
But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.
Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.
He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.
Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.
Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."
He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.
He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.
Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.
Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.
"Have you been spying on me?"
Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"
His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."
A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".
Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.
"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."
"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."
"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."
"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"
"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)
"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."
Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.
I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.
"I know you do not like me."
"You're right; I don't."
"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."
"...That's correct."
"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"
"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"
In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."
The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.
(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)
After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.
Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.
The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.
Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.
My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.
So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.
Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.
But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.
Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"
Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.
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Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.
Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#danyal al ghul#i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've#seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly#au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin#all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate'#one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud#morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but#is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin#his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning#around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him.#he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow?#danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer.#danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??'#idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up#'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options.#i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker#danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names.#he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.
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wutheringmights · 6 months
Text
After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.
On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.
It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)
So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.
Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.
If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.
Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.
One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.
Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.
There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.
Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.
I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.
Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.
Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:
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Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:
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Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.
But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.
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