#he just needed to learn how to better direct his caring

[newbiespud]

I'm sure it's been said before but I'll say it myself because why not

The game In Stars and Time makes for a revealing contrast to the movie Groundhog Day in how they treat their final time loop and how that reflects on the main character. (Even though, if I remember right, the dev largely wasn't aware of Groundhog Day when they came up with ISAT.)

Spoilers for both after the break, I guess.

In Groundhog Day, Phil starts out narcissistic and self-centered, has the realization that he can live life without consequences, gets depressed after having tried and done everything that he's got everyone and everything memorized so that nothing can delight and surprise him anymore, and finally escapes when he performs a loop that proves that a better, happier world is within his grasp to make, not something owed to him, and that he is happy with the life he has today, not always pining for his ambitions for the future.

In... In Stars and Time, Siffrin starts out deflecting and aloof, has the realization that they can do this perfectly - 'this' being not only the impossible challenge of defeating the King but navigating their relationships with their party - gets depressed after hitting wall after wall and repeatedly fumbling into faux pas after faux pas with their party, and finally escapes when they perform a loop where their true feelings come out, no matter how ugly, and they're honest about their own desires and wishes rather than trying to keep up an ideal façade.

Plenty of people have pointed out that In Stars and Time subverts the 'escaping on the perfect loop' time-loop trope that Groundhog Day largely codifies. Not only does the 'perfect' loop completely fail, Siffrin escapes on arguably the 'worst' loop, the one where they rightfully worry that they've hurt and alienated their loves ones forever and cannot escape those consequences anymore.

But I don't think this contrast is as direct as it seems, even though one could say that Phil got away scot-free compared to Siffrin and that In Stars and Time is the superior story for portraying a harsher outcome. (I do think that exploration and advancement of tropes is just inevitable and even healthy over time, and Groundhog Day came out in 1993 so of course it and the tropes it spawned deserve modern critique, but I digress.) I actually think that it reflects how both stories and the mechanics of their time loops are built around their main characters. (There's also something to be said about how genre shapes narrative since GD is an existential comedy and ISAT is an action-adventure focusing on interpersonal drama, but that's another digression.)

ISAT makes an impact on the whole time loop genre with its clever subversion, but like all the best subversive stories, it's couched in strong characters that embody its themes.

And to take a broader perspective, the best time loop stories are allegories for the real-life situation of making the same mistakes over and over again caused by your own deep-seated personality flaws, and being forced to finally confront your inner demons and overcome them and become a better, healthier person. (Relatable, much?)

Phil is a man who's never happy with his lot in life, so he needs to learn to find the eternal richness and beauty of what he has within his grasp, and that a better, happier life is something he can make for himself. Thus, he escapes on the 'best' loop.

Siffrin is a person who refuses to share their true feelings and problems with others to the point of self-destruction (and complete reinvention in one aspect), so they need to learn that no matter how ugly and twisted they think they are, being open and honest doesn't mean their loved ones will care about them any less, even when Siffrin is seen at their lowest point possible. Thus, they escape on the 'worst' loop.

It's not just clever subversion, it's holistic circular story structure!

...Though maybe I'm just drawn to these stories because I, too, would like some extra time to Figure Some Shit Out and have that time come with some superpowers along the way, even if it nearly destroys me in the process.

[glagger-true]

Not really an analysis post like I promised yet, but I really just wanna ramble about how much I like that Dave both shares a struggle with and integrates an aspect of whichever love interest he chooses.

Both Dave and Sal deal with the survivor's guilt of losing a loved one and it's effects. So Dave becomes introspective and patient like Sal as they grow close to both support Sal and cope with it himself.

Both Dave and Orlando have parents who failed them. In opposite ways. And Dave becomes stubborn and attentive about protecting the feelings who he loves like Orlando does to understand that he can move past that shadow and help Orlando do the same.

Both Dave and Dean have a trauma that makes them feel like they need to overcompensate all the time. And act in harmful ways a result. Dave gets confident and mature like Dean as they grow closer and more honest with the other to tackle that issue together better.

Both Dave and Hoss struggle with being open about their feelings and trusting people with their struggles. So Dave is taught better self-care and how to be more perceptive about himself and others through Hoss to learn how care for himself better and deal with his feelings. As well as inspire Hoss to open himself up more.

Both Dave and Tyson deal with self-loathing and emotional disconnection. Which makes their usually positive bond toxic for both oftenly. Dave becomes more assertive and direct like Tyson as their relationship gets more intimate and that helps both him and Tyson acknowledge and accept their feelings. Helping them become healthier partners.

Both Dave and Roswell deal terribly with the idea of losing their loved ones. Feeling responsible for any harm that befalls them. It's by learning from Roswell's perspective about life and death, as well as accepting to love him knowing his death is unavoidable, that Dave learns how to cope with loss better. Giving himself and Roswell the opportunity to focus on and value themselves and their feelings first for once rather than thinking just about everyone else's.

Funnily enough, most of these are likely all unintentional. But I still think it's cool that they're there anyways because it shows one my favorites traits about Dave. Which is how full of potential for learning and growth he is.

He might be the same person in all routes, but the paths he can take as he develops and grows with his loved ones are limitless and unique.

I just think he's neat.

[evilminji]

You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!

Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!

Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.

You knew he'd be our Son in advance!

YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!

YOU [REDACTED]!

Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.

......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*

Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!

*Exasperated Time Noises*

It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!

Which?

UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.

SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!

Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*

But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*

Injustice! D:<

But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.

That Safe Little Corner.

IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.

You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.

Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?

*empty room*

(O.O)

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!

But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.

When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.

And that's okay.

It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.

You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.

But is that YOU?

Or just the form you found your start in?

And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.

Everyone mourns at their own pace.

And they are the ghosts of who they were.

It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.

It was okay.

To cry for Danny Fenton.

Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.

He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.

No tributes to the Dead.

He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.

He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.

He can't tell.

Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!

Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!

(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)

So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).

Ha ha!

Why does that feel like foreshadowing?

BECAUSE IT IS!

Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!

And on DC's planet Earth?

They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.

From near PLUTO.

There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!

Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.

A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.

That MIGHT BE MAGIC.

*highly stressed Everyone noises*

And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!

But! There is hope!

Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!

They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.

....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!

Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?

Danny Wakes Up.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.

Genre: Smut, with very little plot and some fluff as an appetiser. MINORS DNI

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink (contraception mentioned), also they have sex literally against the readers front door but I don't know how I'm supposed to add a warning for that...

Word Count: 2.4K

Here's Part 1 and my Masterlist!

A/N: Welcome back! I have a week off from work and no plans for at least four days, so I'm going to be writing a lot this week, so if anyone wants to be added to a taglist pls reply and let me know! My requests are open, too. For now this mini-series is complete, but I might write a third part at some point with the shower scene. Let me know what you think!

The small moment of silence after feeling yourself die a small death in Spencer’s hands is possibly the clearest your mind has been all week. You felt the fatigue melt away from your body as you relaxed into the car seat, knowing that the man who had once again taken to tracing his fingers in small shapes on your thigh, was absolutely going to take care of you.

As he pulled up to your apartment, however, your mind started working all over again, and you cleared your throat ready to start possibly one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever have in your life.

“Thank you for dropping me off.” You opened, not really sure where you were going, but praying that the car stopping didn’t signal whatever this was between you and your coworker stopping as well.

“Y/N, it’s your car. I didn’t drop you off, I practically commandeered you.” He smiled at you now, with that soft, tender smile you’d so often wished to have directed at you and only you.

“So,” you start, your hesitation shaking your voice slightly, “were you serious about joining me in that shower? Because that is absolutely something I need right now, by the way.” You almost curse yourself for how much your vomiting out the words, but the smile never leaves Reid’s eyes as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“You need the shower or you need me to join you?”

“You know, before today, I’d never have pegged you as such a fucking tease.”

“And I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who begged your coworker to finger-fuck you in the office on full display for your friends to watch, but I guess were both learning a lot about each other today, right?”

“I did not beg.” You stared at him indignantly, finally unbuckling your seatbelt and rearranging your dress and panties so that the walk to your apartment would’nt be too uncomfortable.

Jumping out of the driver side, Spencer quickly joined you at your door as you stepped out of the car, closing the door and pushing you up against it, his hands firmly holding your waist now as he pressed his forehead against yours.

The moment was so intimate you almost forgot how to breathe, but the giggle that jumped from your stomach forced air into your lungs just as his lips curled up into a more playful smile as he responded to you.

“You didn’t beg with your words,” he emphesised the end of his sentence with an innocent kiss to your cheek, pausing to add “but we work as profilers.” Another kiss, this time to your other cheek. “And I’m very good at my job.” This time he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

It was so totally unlike the desperate kisses you shared in the elevator that you were thrown off your guard for a minute and would’ve absolutely lost your balance had he not been there holding you up against your car. Where his earlier kisses had been hot, purposeful and full of need, these were almost deliriously slow. You felt him smiling into the kiss as his hand moved up to cup the back of your head, pushing you further into his embrace as you gave each other everything you had.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air but grinning like fools, he quickly pecked you on the lips again before slipping his hand into yours and pulling you along into your own home. He unlocked your door, threw down the keys and immediately had you pushed up against it, his hands back in your hair as his mouth made its way along your neck, as if he didn’t want to leave any spot untasted, undiscovered.

“Spencer,” you moaned into his embrace, but he did not relent, finding a specifically sensitive spot at the nape of your neck and devoting all of his worldly attention to it.

“Spencer, do you remember when we met?” You breathed out, needing to force the thought out before you lost the chance. He hummed a quick affirmation against your neck, but didn’t pull away, like a child reluctant to part from their favorite toy.

“Spencer, please,” you laughed and finally managed to force him to look into your eyes, your bodies still pushed together at the hips, as if the physical contact was tethering him to the moment.

“Yes, Y/N, I remember. I remember everything, that’s my thing. Now can we continue this, please.” He dropped another kiss to your lips and lingered there for a moment too long as if to punctuate his thought.

Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I tried to shake your hand, and you gave me that speech that you give to everybody about germs and bacteria and whatever and then you said it’d be safer to kiss.”

“What’s your point, princess?”

“The point is that the very second it came out of your mouth, I wanted you to do it. Kiss me, I mean. I wanted you to do this, to pin me against a wall and make my heartbeat ten times faster than it already does, and, yes before you say anything, I know that would be incredibly dangerous for my health, but you are Spencer. You are the most dangerous thing that has happened to me, and I love you so fucking much.”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t resume your activities either. You just stood there together in companionable silence, breathing each other in. As if breaking himself out of a daze, he finally dragged one finger down your cheek, taking all of you in before replying.

“I love you. And I’m not good with words or talking so I need you to let me show you that I love you. Can you do that, Princess?” You eagerly nod, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, as if your body suddenly remembered what the two of you were there to do.

He pulls your leg into him, letting the entirety of his body push up against you, as you feel the physical manifestation of his desire for you for the first time. He returns to your neck again, but pushes your leg up higher, so he can nestle as deep between you as he can get. You let your hands trail down his body, making quick work at the buttons of that tantilising shirt, and when he comes up for breath, you don’t allow him a moment to move back in before you’re on his neck.

The sweat sticking to his skin tastes salty as you kiss and lick your way from his jaw to his collar bone, pushing his shirt down his back so you can go further down. His throaty moans are the only sounds filling the room as he rocks his hips into your thighs, desperate for friction of any kind.

Although he’s reluctant to let you go, he’s almost relieved when you finally drop to your knees and make short work of his belt, still no further into yout apartment than your welcome mat.

“God, I’m so glad I get to keep this memory of you on your knees for me forever, Princess.” He smooths your now messy hair away from your face as you pull the tops of his pants down just enough to reach into his underwear, too eager to worry about fully derobing him. When his cock finally springs out of his pants, you’re hands are on it immediately. You press small kisses on the tip and sides, your hands moving down to his base as you work your way up to kitten licks, teasing the man slowly.

“Such a little whore for me.” You know from the change in pet names and the tightened grip on your hair that he’s growing impatient, and so you finally take him into your mouth, slowly, making sure to breath through your nose as he moves closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat.

When you get as much of him inside your mouth as you’re able, you start slowly bobbing your mouth up and down, one hand on his thigh maintaining your balance, and the other making sure the rest of his impressive length doesn’t feel neglected.

“Fuck, yes, Just like that baby. You’re doing such a great job,” he moans, but he’s getting impatient again, and you pull off his cock quickly, sticking out your tongue and giving him the permission to use you the way he needs.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says, pulling your hair into place with one hand, whilst the other pumps the base of his cock and pushes it back into your mouth, ready for him to use you like the little slut he knows you are.

“Just breath through it, Princess, you’re doing so well for me.” He starts thrusting into your throat, slowly at first, but quickly building speed like a man deranged, whose only hope at solace is spilling himself into the back of your throat. You do your best to keep your jaw relaxed, and honestly he’s impressed by how long you last, but when you finally start gagging, he’s seeing stars and his groans are having a notable effect on you.

You’re soaking now, so desperate for friction and contact you briefly consider pulling his leg into you and grinding yourself against his shoe, desperate for another release. You know he’s getting closer to his own, when he loosens his hold on your hair and let’s it fall down again, his hands pushing against your front door again as he braces himself.

“God, Princess, look at what you do to me,” he moans as he finally pulls you off of him, your face covered with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum, a whole lot of which is still trailing between your lips and his cock as you look up at him from beneath hooded eyes.

“Spencer, please,” you shudder and try to catch your breath, as he hits the head of his cock gently against the side of your face, marking you again in the places his lips touched you earlier.

“Please what, Princess? You have to use your words.”

You catch your breath again as his tip traces your bottom lip, gathering some more of your mess.

“Please fuck me, Spencer.” It comes out as a whimper, and he’d almost feel bad if he weren’t so fucking turned on right now, looking down at your innocent face, slick with saliva from choking on his dick. He pulls you up quickly, grabbing at your hips, pulling the bottom of your dress over your ass and ridding you of your panties in one movement.

“So fucking wet for me, my special baby.” He whispers tenderly, pushing your upper body into the door and pressing a small kiss just behind your ear.

He presses himself against your slit, teasing your senstive spots by stroking up and down the length of your pussy until you're dizzy with need and shaking in anticipation. Just as you’re about to scream in frustration and push back on him yourself, he thrusts himself entirely into you, and you are once again breathless.

Your mind goes blank as he pushes into you, gaining a steady rhythm as he whispers praise into your ear.

“You’re taking me so well baby, so fucking good, like you were made just for me.” You feel yourself clench around him as his breath tickles your still sensitive neck, and each time you do you're rewarded with the sweet tones of his groans in your ears.

His hands find their way down to your clit as you beg him for more, unable to form words, but the pants and whimpers you’re letting out supplying him with enough to know that you’re close to the end of your tether.

“Where do you want me, baby?” He asks, his strokes getting slower and somehow even deeper as he does his best to prolong your shared bliss.

“Don’t pull out,” you groan without even thinking. You don’t want to let him go but in this position you cant wrap your legs around him and hold him close so you have to muster up the strength to tell him what you need.

“Oh fuck baby, you want me to fucking cum inside you? Want me to breed you like the little fucking whore you are? Every word drove you crazy, the weight of his body pushing you against the door providing delicious pressure as he drove into you.

“You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? Show everyone how much you like having my cum inside you?” The wet slaps of your skin colliding with each thrust fill the room as your mouth fails to form a reply, your orgasm hitting you as soon as the word inside forms on his tongue.

You shudder around him as your eyes roll back in your head, his fingers on your clit rocking you through it as he keeps up his pace.

“Fuck, that’s it baby girl. Gonna fill you up now, gonna keep you filled from now on,” he moans, and with a final snap of his hips he’s buried inside of you letting his cum flow directly into your unprotected pussy.

You stay like that for a two minutes, panting and gasping for breath, your dress completely stuck to your body, and his pants still stuck around his ankles.

When you both finally catch your breath, he pulls out of you and turns you around, pulling you in for another tender kiss and just holding you for another minute before pulling you further into the apartment.

“Just so you know,” you eventually manage to push out. “I’m on the pill.”

“I know. I saw the pills when we shared that hotel room on the Denver case a few months back. It was still fucking hot though.”

You shared a laugh, almost embarrassed by how much the two of you had wanted each other. You make a bee-line for the bedroom, almost desperate for sleep after your vigorous activities, but Spencer paused as you passed the bathroom.

“You know,” he laughs exhaustedly, “we never did make it to the shower.”

“In due time, Doctor. In due time.”

----X----

🏷️ @spenciesprincess

[ssahotchnerr]

GIRL 👏🏻 DAD 👏🏻 AARON 👏🏻 learning how to do his wife’s hair so he can do baby girls hair when she’s grown

uncharted territory

YOU'RE 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 RIGHT 👏🏻 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, some small suggestiveness, fluff <3

"can i braid your hair?"

you looked at aaron as your book dropped onto your lap, both a bit bewildered and astonished, "can you what?"

"braid your hair." the expression adorned on his face was almost troubled as he approached you, and rather shyly at that, actually.

"that's what i thought you said." your eyebrow quirked, displaying a caring and soft confusion. "why?"

"jus' something penelope said today, it made me realize that i don't know how to do hair. never had the need to learn with jack." the grumpiness on his face didn't falter, a small huff escaping him. "i know she doesn't have much of it now, but i don't want to be one of those dads who attempt to do their daughter's hair, it's a phenomenal disaster, and it looked better off before i even touched it. i refuse to send her off somewhere someday looking like she went through a windstorm."

"aaron, honey, i don't think you're capable of anything too disastrous." you teased gently, but with full reassurance.

he almost smiled, the ends of his lips tugging upwards, but evidently he wasn't fully convinced. "so can i? i need the practice, desperately."

"of course," you nodded, scooting towards the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged, aaron seated behind you.

once situated, he took your hair gingerly into his hands, "how do i..."

"you're going to want to separate it into three sections," you started, pausing to let him do so. "kinda gather it like a ponytail to get started."

"okay, that i've done before."

"yeah, you're good at that." you rolled your eyes, a faint blush tinting your cheeks and you could easily picture the smirk that was definitely plastered on aaron's face. "you good?"

"i think so."

"take the right side, and cross it over the middle section." you instructed, again giving him a small window of time to weave your hair gently. "then do the same on the left, the right section should have switched places with the middle."

"mhm." aaron hummed gently in confirmation, biting down softly onto his lip in concentration, crossing the left section over the now center.

"and just repeat down, alternating as you just did."

"that's it?"

"that's literally it."

aaron repeated the cycle, braiding with ease. "and i'm not hurting you? am i pulling-"

"no no no, you're completely fine." you reached a bit behind, your hand finding his knee and giving it a comforting squeeze. "keep going."

although it was a simple braid, his fingers nearly got tangled a few times, due to the size of said fingers and the limited, slightly tight space that came along with braiding. he also tugged your head back and forth a small amount, but you followed the direction of his gentle pulls. as he worked silently, your heart could only swell at his genuine concern and want to learn - just for your little girl.

once he reached the end of your braid, you tore off the hair tie that was conveniently around your wrist. "secure with this."

aaron was quick learner in nature; he watched you intently as you pulled your braid over your shoulder to inspect it quickly. it was a bit loose, a tad crooked, but the gist of it was there - almost perfect.

you peered behind at him, thoroughly impressed. "not bad."

"really?" aaron asked surprisingly, but with an utterly pleased expression.

"but don't get too cocky," you narrowed your eyebrows playfully, swiveling to face him. "this is the easy one to master. there's french braids, dutch, fishtail. one day she'll want one braid, maybe two the next. trust me, it's bound to get way more complicated than this."

the proud gleam in his eyes faded a bit as his face blanched, pulling into a pained expression, deadpanning. "you're kidding."

"but don't worry, we have plenty of time."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Could you do more cave boy Danny please? I really wanna see what you have in mind for the direction you want the prompt to take 👻

The first thing that registers for Danny is the flouting feeling that he often relates to flying. To him, it always felt like being in the water, perfectly balanced with his arms and legs spread out, letting himself be weightless and left up instead of fighting gravity.

He allows himself to be taken by the sensation. It's not often he can fly just for enjoyment, especially in recent months. The Waynes were far too observant.

It is only when he tries to move into a more comfortable position that he notices the restraint.

Unlike in the water, he does not move slightly up and down with waves so he knows he's not flying in his ghost form. There is nothing that ever hinders him, even if slightly.

This is a different sense of flying.

It's caused by medication.

Danny's eyes snap open, fearing men in white suits, and instead gets a teenager in black and red-leaning his head into his hands. There are no restraints or a containment pod, instead, there are soft warm blankets and a large bed.

There are beeps from machines and a tube inside his arm, tapped to the top of his elbow. He's not sure what is in it but he hopes it to help with his pain and not to....see what his DNA is made of or something.

Thoughts are....hard right now. Like trying to grasp sand but it only slips through his fingers. He is aware but not. Did someone steal his brain? He is usually a much better thinker.

"Brucie!" The red and black teenager grasps, throwing his head up. Danny squints at him, wondering if his black wings are alright. They didn't explain or even react to his movement.

Danny should contact Frostbite. His Yeti can fix up those right up.

"It's a cape" The other laughs but his voice is soft with sadness. Danny squints at him trying to pinpoint why he would be so sad. It might be because he hasn't shifted into a butterfly yet.

"I'm not a butterfly." The other laughs a little more amused.

Danny's eyes widened. Was the teenager a mind reader? That's a scary thought. What if he learned all of Danny's secrets?

"Brucie....who's Danny?"

Nah, Danny wasn't risking it. He was going back to sleep. He had to escape into his dreams that way they would be just as confused by them as he was. He chuckles to himself, knowing that they won't know what to do against the giant green dog that guarded his dreams.

"Goodnight Brucie. Enjoy your green dog"

________________________________________________

Hours later Danny wakes up again but this time he is much more lucid. He glances around the room, eyes flickering over the machine and wires attached to him with little care.

He can recognize the room the Waynes gave him with ease. Everything from the posters he had put up in an attempt to look like an average teenager- even if he did only put up posters of Batman and his crew- to the random nick-nacks he left behind in his escape.

It was a bit bare from when he took everything but it's still the room he called home for a while.

How in the world did he get back to Wayne Manor?

Danny needs to get out now.

Standing up on uneasy legs, he rips out the wires as fast as he can, uncaring of the loud alarms that ring the moment he does. He rushes for the door, vision blurry, having to force all of his will into getting one step and then another.

Danny is forced to take small pauses every now and then because his body simply can't handle moving too fast. His legs shake from the effort it takes to keep him up right but he pushes through anyway.

It's only when he manages to get to the door that he remembers his powers. Danny flexes his abs into a clench that he had come to associate with activating his powers. For a brief second, twin rings of light appear, but they only move z few centimeters before flickering out of sight.

It feels like all his energy fades with with.

Panting, he slides to the floor, his limbs feeling like lead and his head swimming with fog. His head falls to the side slightly, but he can see that the door is right in front of him.

Danny tries to reach for it but all that does is cause him to tumble over. There is a dull ache on his chin and chest, as he lays there on the ground breathing heavily, and small black dots start to appear in his vision.

He is likely going to pass out soon from his core's backlash. Danny can't afford that. Not until he's safely away from the Manor and back in his cave.

How in the world did he even get out of his cave? How did he end up here?

All questions he'll have to answer later.

Planting his forearms before himself and pushing one leg slightly to the side, Danny lifts himself up. He lets his legs relax, making sure they don't drag behind him, as he shifts one arm forward and then another, crawling towards the door in the army crawl his mom should him.

He makes it to the door in what feels like hours but is probably seconds. His hands reach upward to launch onto the door handle with all his strength. to heave it open.

There is a moment of pure unadulterated joy that he was able to get this far when Danny encounters a slight problem. There is a force field right inside the doorway.

He figures this out when he slams into an invisible wall. A startled yelp is ripped from his throat as he stumbles back, blinking owlishly at the flickering force field light that gleams and ripples mockingly at him.

For half a second, he thinks that one of his siblings had pranked him by putting up plastic wrap to have him walk into it.

Except for the man in a brown trench coat who is staring down at him with an open mouth.

"Brucie!" Bruce shouts pushing the stranger out of the way to kneel down. "What happened?"

"He activated my wares to keep out spirits....or in this case keep them in?" Trench coat is staring at Danny with a strange expression. It seems like a cross between intrigued and weary. "What are you?"

"I already told you, this is my counterpart from a different universe," Bruce says helping Danny into a sitting position. "We confirmed it the first night he was here. Both DNA and our multi-universal tests came back positive."

"Batty, I highly doubt you have the technology to test for dimension travelers-"

"I do. I used it on every Flash I have ever come across, every time I see them."

"......I know I call you batty but honestly Batty that's alarming."

Danny's eyes flicker between them before he activates his intangibility. It's an ability that doesn't require his full form, however just as he's starting to slip through Bruce's fingers his legs slam against a similar field just a few inches from the floor.

His knees pop loudly and Danny screeches.

"Brucie!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that. My wards are all around us. I put them up after finding your cave drenched in otherworld energy. Figured I was protecting you not capturing you."

Danny's yanks his legs up, trying to crawl away from the man. Bruce throws an arm in front of him and Danny foolishly presses himself into the older man's back, trying to shield away from the very alarmingly competent Ghost Hunter.

"You leave him alone. He is not a threat. He is just a civilian boy who happens to be a meta" Bruce's voice is low and dangerous. Danny has never heard him speak like that, even while dressed as Batman.

"Batty, whatever that is, it is certainly not a civilian let alone a boy. The amount of will it took just to keep my wards up by him hitting against them by accident is nothing to sneeze at." Trench Coat insists, pulling out a stone with a strange marking on it. Danny squints at the symbols and then gasps when he recognizes them.

ᛙᛁ⸜⸍ˎ⸜ᛍ╵╮ˎ◟ᛍ╵

It's Fenton Works spelled out in runes, medieval runes to be exact. Danny knows because Jazz and he had a bonding phase where they translated the family name and business. They would carve the symbols into hundreds of wood plates, to bond with their aunt.

"Yeah, even the Witch Boy flinched at this seal." The man smirks, holding out the plat as if he were warding off a spirit. Danny cowers more behind Bruce."You have no idea what I had to trade to get this"

"What the hell are you doing?" Tim's voice cuts through the tension. He is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and face dark. Behind him are the rest of the Waynes. None of them are looking friendly.

"Constantine." Bruce growls. "You are on thin ice. Backdown. Now".

"Not to be disrespectful Batty, but that thing is-"

"His name is Bruce Wayne, You will do well to remember it. " Damian cuts in. The blond man holding- his own carving?- tilts his head.

"But that's not your name is it?" He asks Danny, who swallows. He presses closer to Bruce and watches the Waynes slowly circle Constantine. It's obvious they are about to jump him and Danny-

Danny realized that he may have tried to run but that obviously wasn't going to work. He couldn't hide either, because they found him.

He needed to come clean.

"Wait." He says, his voice stilling the room in a way that only those with complete control. He scoots to the right leaving Bruce's protection. "Wait. He's right. I'm not Bruce Wayne. My name is Danny Fenton. I've been lying to you all. I'm sorry."

"Fenton?" Constantine repeats confused but he doesn't get to continue because Bruce pulls him back behind him.

"You aren't lying. We knew you had a different name, you're still my counterpart."

What.

"Yeah Danny, we kind of knew from day one that you were a version of Bruce even if it was under a different name" Dick laughs. "You told Tim your real name a few days ago as well as your universe coordinates. We already confirmed its location and Tim is working on a ship for you."

What

"We knew. You Bruce." Cass says looking right at Danny. "We since the day we found you."

That's....not right at all.

"No. I'm Danny Fenton. I'm not a version of Bruce. I can prove it!" He shouts, throwing his hand on Bruce's back. He makes his core glow, knowing no two people could ever have the same one unless they are variants of timelines.

That's why Dani's core won't glow with him but Dan will.

Constantine nods his head "A core glow test. That will prove that you aren't Bruce and are something that's pretending to be him. Claiming to be part of the King's family is also a bold claim."

"Look ma I never claim to be part of some King's family I only-"

Twin blue and green glows burst from Danny's and Bruce's chest and Danny's words die on his tongue. Constantine drops his hand in shock.

"See? You are Brucie!" Dick laughs as if he hadn't just shattered Danny's entire world viewpoint. He could only gape at the group of people before Bruce placed a hand on his head.

"I'm sorry. If I had known you knew where your world was located we would have gotten you home to your parents weeks ago. You must have been so scared. Don't worry. We'll have you home soon."

Again and with great feeling, he will say what!?

[piastrinorris]

I Want Your Video

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on

Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!

Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.

You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player. 

Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.

You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.

And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"

"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.

"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."

"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.

He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"

You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."

Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.

Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"

You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."

Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"

"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook,  captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.

"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"

"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"

"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."

"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"

"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"

"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better." 

"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent. 

You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"

You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"

Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you. 

Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."

You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."

"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."

You whine, "Please?"

He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."

"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"

Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand. 

"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.

"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"

"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.

"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."

You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.

"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"

Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.

"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."

Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.

Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"

You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."

He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."

"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."

"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"

"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."

You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"

Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.

Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.

"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."

Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.

Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"

"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.

"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."

That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.

Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."

He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.

You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.

But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.

Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."

"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.

You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"

Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.

"Ple-ease, need to  need, fuck -"

"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."

"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed. 

"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."

You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.

Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."

"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back. 

"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"

You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"

He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"

You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.

[artist-issues]

Let’s talk about this Mufasa movie.

No. Let’s not. Let’s just talk about Mufasa. This is going to be long because he’s a really good character and The Lion King is a really good movie.

Mufasa’s whole point, as a character, is to foil Simba. He’ s not just the stereotypical “great dad role model” character, or the “wise mentor who is ripped away” character.

He, as a character, is in the story because he is “Who Simba Really Is.”

Simba is our young protagonist. The whole point of Simba in the story is to start out “not yet grown into who he really is,” so that the story can teach him how to “grow into who he really is.”

So the audience needs to know “who is Simba and who is Simba supposed to be?” right at the beginning. Which is great, because all kids are trying to figure out the same question about themselves. So it’s relatable. But anyway, the storytellers make Mufasa the answer.

On a simple level, you can answer the question, “who is this Simba guy?” right off the bat in the movie with “the son of the King.” There’s the setting. There’s the set-up. There’s the title of the movie. That’s why the very first lion you’re introduced to in the movie is Mufasa, and it’s not a shot of a baby lion cub. It could have been. Lots of movies open with a shot of their main character. Encanto, for one.

Not The Lion King. The Lion King starts with, “you can’t know who Simba is without Mufasa, so Mufasa gets shown first.”

So okay, Mufasa is a King. Good to know. That’s obvious from the big rock he’s standing on and the way all the animals are coming toward him. But from there, they quickly establish a few more things about Mufasa. He smiles at this little bird that bows to him. He hugs the shaman-monkey. He goes from “big solemn lion” to “good and benevolent” immediately.

And then as it goes on, you learn more about Mufasa. He’s not an idiot; he knows Scar is up to no good, and he is very direct about it. He is not a naive dupe, trusting a schemer blindly. It’s more complicated than that. He is a better leader and a better guy than that. Mufasa knows Scar is his brother, and in a snappy little interaction with Zazu, storytellers make it clear that he worries about Scar; he knows he has good reason to worry, but hasn’t decided to give up on his brother.

Additionally, he is merciful to other dark creatures too. He beats the tar out of hyenas but doesn’t kill them. He rescues Zazu from Scar’s mouth. He scolds Simba but he does that, and more, to teach him. So what Mufasa is teaching us, according to what I just showed you the story says, is that A Good King, A Good Man (Lion, whatever) Is:

Authoritative - Makes decrees and makes decisions and yes, tells others what to do. Creates the structure his people live in.

Kind/Humble - Shows the same level of casual friendship to a revered shaman-recluse as he does a little self-important majordomo. (Humble because he’s not afraid to admit when he’s afraid if it’ll help his son.)

Teaches - Takes time out of the day to pass on what he’s learned to someone who is going to take his place—he’s not hoarding his own position or gatekeeping his life-experience-expertise. He’s not finding his identity in how he has this wealth of information that causes people to need him; he gives it away freely, purposefully.

Protects - Is willing to endanger himself and go to the trouble of defending creatures that are weaker than himself.

Shows Mercy - See Scar and the hyenas, who deserve death, but he doesn’t give it to them.

Prioritizes Family - The time he’s taking out of the day is for his son. And he follows up with his recluse of a brother instead of going, “that’s Scar, I know he don’t care about nobody but himself, his loss, not my problem.” And he extends trust to that brother, which is really just an example of gift-giving to a family member who’s done nothing to keep that trust.

Has Faith - Mufasa makes a point of not answering Simba’s question about “Will you always be there for me,” with just himself. He could’ve. Many parents do. Many parents are tempted to, to show their love. “Yes. You’ll always have me. I’ll always be there to answer your questions; I’ll always protect you, I’ll always be what you can count on, you’ll always find a need fulfilled in me.” But Mufasa doesn’t take that bait. He gives Simba an answer that is not “himself-based.” Not selfish. “Look at the stars.” I don’t care what ya’ll say. Mufasa has faith in something outside of himself. He says “and so will I,” but that’s after contextualizing himself within “something bigger than us.” (And oh my gosh, he doesn’t even answer with, “let me give you a lesson you’ll need for your whole life.” He doesn’t even take credit for this faith, for himself. He gives his own father the credit.)

And really, all of those traits can be summarized with the phrase: Lives His Life Sacrificially For Others.

That’s what a leader, a good father, a king, a good man, does. And pay attention: That is what Simba is supposed to be. Simba is supposed to be Mufasa. That’s who Simba really is, that’s where he’s supposed to go. There is a “real you.” But you have to agree with it and accept it, even though your natural bent is to give in to the illusion that you “don’t have to be that, you can choose who you are.”

Yeah, sure, in a sense you can reject Who You Really Are. You can spend your whole life playing pretend, like you’re not That. But you’ll be doing just that: playing pretend. Unfulfilled. Dissatisfied. Running from the misery that is the natural response to your silly game of pretend. Insisting that “there is no misery, this is what I want.”

Okay. Sure it is.

I’ll save Simba for another post.

The point is, Mufasa is a template for who Simba Really Is. Look at those traits. When it’s Simba’s turn to exemplify those traits, does he?

Act I: Is he authoritative? He tells characters what to. And he makes his own decisions—sometimes for good, sometimes bad. For example, he won’t let Zazu deter him from going to the elephant graveyard, so that’s a bad decision, but he does choose to go back and help Nala instead of running to save himself. Authoritative and protective. But it’s all misplaced because he doesn’t “Live His Life Sacrificially For Others.”

Act 2: He’s not. Timon and Pumbaa tell him to do something and he goes along with it. Timon and Pumbaa claim an ancient tradition and his father’s lesson is stupid and Simba goes along with that. He’s no longer making decisions of his own accord, for anything but his own comfort.

The idea is, in Act 1, you see Simba has the same traits as Mufasa, budding inside of him. But they’re all misdirected, and they’re all twisted, because they’re missing one key ingredient: he’s supposed to use those traits in the context of “Live His Life Sacrificially For Others.” Simba doesn’t want to do that. Simba wants to do whatever he wants.

Sure, there’s a part of him that combines that motive with “I want to be like my dad.” But that part dies on the vine and turns sour when his father dies saving him.

So then in Act 2, not only is Simba clinging to “I’m going to live life all my way,” but he’s changed what that means by pushing the nugget of “I want to be like my dad/I WANT TO BE WHO I REALLY AM” completely away. Because it’s too hard, and he’s got shame tangled up in it.

And worse—he starts doing basically the opposite of all of Mufasa’s traits, all of the traits that make him Who He Really Is. He’s not prioritizing family—he’s abandoning them. He’s not protecting others—he runs from the idea of going back to help Nala. (tiny glimmer of it still being inside him because he does try to protect Pumbaa from her.) Kind and humble? No. It’s unkind to tell your best friend you won’t help her because you’re afraid. Humble, no, because humility is thinking of yourself less, not thinking less of yourself.

Ask the question. When Simba’s living in the jungle with Timon and Pumbaa, is he exemplifying any of the traits of Who He Really Is? Or is he doing his best to bury that?

But then after Mufasa reminds him of who he Really Is, and Rafiki shows him how to get his past out of the way so he can accept it, Simba goes back. Into Act 3 we go

Now. Does Simba exemplify Mufasa’s traits? Does Simba start becoming Who He Really Is? There’s not a lot of time left in the movie. Look at the traits, see if he does.

Authoritative? Yep, comes up with the plan to break in and get to Scar, doesn’t back down from the confrontation.

Kind and Humble? Yeah, he willingly admits the truth (he thought it was true) that makes him look bad to give his mom closure. He’s kind to Nala and to Timon and Pumbaa, admits his mistakes, when they come to help him. Hugs the old shaman who cracked him in the skull with a stick—just like Mufasa hugged Rafiki to show us kindness and humility at the beginning of the movie.

Teaches? We don’t really see an opportunity for him to do that yet at this point in the story and his life, give me a break.

But protects? You bet. That’s why he’s there for the confrontation in the first place. Shows mercy?

Yep.

Because he’s not like Scar. He knows who he is. THE POINT.

And when he runs in for the big confrontation, he doesn’t immediately leap on Scar and rip him to pieces. Even though the storytellers make sure to show us he clearly wants to.

Instead, he runs up to his mother to see if she’s all right and show her that he is. And again, he tells her the truth because that’s what she needs even if it’s not what she wants, and he’s learned not to run from what he’s “done.” And faith in something bigger than himself?

Yeah. His father’s voice comes through the clouds just before he decides to roar and claim his title. Through the clouds. Because that whole “we’re a part of something bigger, something more important than ourselves,” was always what he was missing. He was just thinking about himself.

And all of this is because Mufasa is the example of Who Simba Really Is: Lives His Life Sacrificially For Others. That’s Mufasa.

That’s Mufasa, in the story of The Lion King. That’s his purpose as a character, that’s who he is.

So now if you make a movie that’s just about him, what you should be doing is showing how he got there. How he accepted who he Really Is instead of choosing who he wants to be, on his own. And you should make his father, and learning humility, an enormous part of that. Because self-sacrifice is such a pillar of his character. It’s the whole thing.

What you should certainly not be doing is telling a story that ends with finding self-worth or a kid who makes a name for himself. I repeat: if the Mufasa live action movie ends with Mufasa doing anything that revolves around self, they got him wrong and they set him up nonsensically for the next movie.

He should have to decide whether or not he wants to believe his own father, because of that one line, “let me tell you something my father told me.” That shows that he accepted his father’s lesson. And what was his father’s lesson about? Faith. In something BIGGER THAN YOURSELF. So then Mufasa grows up to be a character who lives his life sacrificially for others, and you can trace the roots back to that: “I learned a lesson about something bigger than myself from someone who was not myself, and I humbly believed and accepted that lesson.”

I mean jeez, the line is: “LOOK AT THE STARS.” Whenever you feel alone. Whenever you’re wrapped up in who you are and who you’re not and failure and the idea of what you want to be, knock it off. Quit looking at yourself and look at something bigger than you. And then you’ll get “Understanding of Who You Really Are”—no matter what mistakes you’ve made, no matter how you’ve failed, no matter what your circumstances are—thrown in.

…Of course, the Lion King remake ruined him anyway by having the point be “I’m not worthless.” And that was never the point. But whatever. I’m rambling now. You get the idea.

Mufasa is exactly what he needs to be for the original The Lion King. He’s exactly what he needs to be for Simba’s story. Mufasa is awesome.

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (three)

requested here; (one); (two)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (the duff inspired) word count: 5.4k

You hadn’t planned for that kiss to happen the other day.

It was supposed to be all part of the game, of the plan.

You just wanted to learn things properly. Right? But you knew, you had wanted it, and worse, you had liked it.

God, what the hell were you doing?

He was Rafe Cameron. Cocky, rich, your nightmare with a reputation that should have sent you running in the opposite direction. And yet, here you were, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled back. If you hadn’t let the spell break.

"Focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head like you could shake him off too. You had bigger things to worry about—like Nate.

Remember Nate? The whole point of this was to get him to notice you, to finally realize that you were more than just the girl he studied with. You weren’t supposed to be getting caught up with Rafe Cameron’s sudden vulnerability or, God forbid, catching feelings for him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you turned down the street toward your apartment. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of Rafe stayed with you for hours, sneaking its way back in every time you thought you’d pushed it out for good.

What was it about him, anyway? He was hot, sure. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was seeing something deeper. Like there was more to this than either of you were willing to admit. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were starting to want him to see more.

By the time you reached your door, you had spiraled enough to know you needed a distraction. So you did what any girl in your situation would do: you grabbed your phone and texted Harper back.

You: Movie night better include wine. Lots of wine.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Harper <3:  “Already taken care of, babe. See you soon.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little better. It was exactly what you needed. Maybe after a few glasses of wine and some cheesy rom-coms, you’d finally stop thinking about that stupid kiss.

As you closed the door behind you and flopped onto your bed, your phone buzzed again. Expecting it to be Harper, you lazily reached for it, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Rafe’s name instead.

Rafe: got your notes ready for tomorrow? or should i just show up and charm my way through it?

You stared at the screen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or throw your phone across the room. Why did he always have to do this? Act like nothing had changed when everything felt different?

Not that you were any better.

Finally, you typed back.

You: “depends. can ur charm get you through an entire chapter on portuguese colonization?”

His reply came almost instantly. Like he’d been waiting for yours.

Rafe: “we both know my charm can get me through anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile tugging at your lips.

You: “let’s not test that theory. see you tomorrow.”

You tossed your phone aside, willing yourself not to overthink the fact that just seeing his name pop up on your screen made your heart race.

You were going to get through this. Nate was your goal. This thing with Rafe was just a detour. A very distracting, very complicated detour that you’d handle... eventually.

But tonight? Tonight was for your girls, your movies, and drowning out the chaos in your head with as much wine as it took to stop thinking about blue eyes and stupid smirks.

Later that night, you found yourself sprawled out on Ava’s couch, surrounded by blankets and popcorn, watching some cheesy rom-com that Harper had picked out. The glow of the TV cast a soft light over the room, but your mind was still elsewhere. Even with your best friends beside you, laughing and making snide comments about the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

It wasn’t just the kiss—although that had definitely been messing with your head lately—it was everything. The way he’d been acting, the things he’d said, the stupid nickname that you couldn’t seem to shake. Harper and Ava had a point, but they didn’t know Rafe like you did. Not anymore, at least. You’d seen sides of him recently that no one else had, and while you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, there was something there. Something more than just the cocky rich boy everyone saw.

You sighed, reaching for another handful of popcorn, but Harper, ever the perceptive one, caught the look on your face before you could hide it.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, nudging your leg with her foot. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Yeah, you’ve barely roasted this movie,” Ava added, throwing a piece of popcorn at you. “That’s not like you.”

You didn't want to get into it, “Just tired, I guess. Long day.”

Harper wasn’t buying it, though. She turned the volume on the TV down and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Okay, spill. This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Can we not talk about him ?”

“Nope,” Harper said, yanking the pillow away. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. I know a liar when I see one."

Busted.

“Did something happen?”

You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. They were your best friends, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you. But the whole thing with Rafe felt complicated, like more than just a stupid crush. Still, you couldn’t keep it all bottled up forever.

“Fine,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There was... a kiss.”

Harper’s jaw practically dropped. “A kiss? With Rafe?”

“When did this happen?” Ava demanded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I was scared!” You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again as you thought back to that moment in the library, “He knew I never kissed anyone and offered.”

“Wait, what? Your first kiss was with Rafe freaking Cameron?”

Ava gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “He offered? What the hell does that even mean? Did he just, like, present his lips to you like some weirdo?”

You groaned, wishing you could shrink into the couch and disappear.

“It wasn’t like that, okay? We were talking, and it came up. I told him I hadn’t kissed anyone, and then he was all, ‘I can fix that,’ or something. It just... happened a few days later.”

“So, what was it like? Was it good? Did he use tongue? I need details, girl.”

Harper elbowed her. “Ava! Let her breathe, she’s clearly still processing.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more as you fidgeted with a loose string on your sweater. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was good, okay? Really good. But it’s Rafe, and now everything’s weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

Harper’s expression softened,  “Okay, I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’ve hated Rafe for, like, ever, right? And now, all of a sudden, you’re kissing him? What about Nate?”

“I know!” you groaned again, throwing your head back against the couch.

Ava looked like she was about to explode. “So... do you like him? Because it sounds like you’re starting to like him.”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t supposed to like him. It wasn’t part of the plan. But then he had to go and be all... different. Like, he’s still Rafe, but sometimes he’s—I don’t know, sweet? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous.”

Harper sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Babe, if you’re getting all messed up over a guy like Rafe, this could be a problem.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. You didn’t want to like Rafe. He was the last person you should be catching feelings for. 

“Guys like him? They’ll pull you in, mess with your head, and leave you confused as hell.”

“I know,” you said, hating how true that sounded. “But it’s not just that. There’s something else. Like, when we’re alone, he’s— I don’t know. He lets his guard down, and I see a side of him that I don’t think anyone else does. He's weirdly honest."

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not catching feelings?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t even know anymore. I thought this was just a stupid kiss, but now it feels like everything’s different. And it’s so dumb because I should be focused on Nate!"

Ava and Harper exchanged a glance, both of them looking concerned. Harper was the first to speak.

“Okay, maybe this is a sign you need to figure out what you really want. Do you want to keep chasing Nate, or... do you want to see where things go with Rafe?”

You blinked, the question hitting you harder than you expected. What did you want? Nate had always been the plan—nice, safe, uncomplicated Nate. 

It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His stupid grin, the way he’d tease you but also get serious for like, two seconds, just long enough to make you question everything.

You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face, “This was a terrible mistake.”

Harper crossed her arms, studying you. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Call him.”

“What?!” You sat up, heart racing. “No way. I can’t just call him out of nowhere.”

“Yes, you can,” Ava chimed in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the test—if he picks up right away, it means he’s been thinking about you too. If he doesn’t? Then maybe he’s just playing games.”

You stared at them like they’d just suggested jumping off a cliff. “Are you guys serious? There’s no way I’m doing that. You're not serious."

Harper smirked, grabbing your phone off the table and holding it out to you. “Do it. Right now. Trust me, if he cares, he’ll pick up.”

What kind of fucked up science was that? Rafe? Liking you? It was ridiculous. There was no way. Not when he'd been with so many girls, kissed even more, and never gave you a second glance. You were just...there.

Your stomach twisted in knots. “What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m weird for calling at night? What if I just— explode from embarrassment?”

Ava waved her hand dismissively. “If he doesn’t answer, then you know where you stand. But if he does... well, that’s another story. And I highly doubt you’ll explode. Just call him and see.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your phone like it was about to bite you. It felt reckless, terrifying even. But you were curious too—what would happen if you actually did it? Would he care? Would he answer?

“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the phone from Harper and quickly finding Rafe’s name in your contacts before you could change your mind.

Ava grinned, leaning in. “Ooh, this is gonna be good.”

“I thought you hated him—"

“Call him!”

You hit call, holding your breath as the phone rang once, twice—

And then, to your absolute horror, it stopped. He picked up.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice came through, “Everything okay?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both staring at you like this was the most exciting thing to ever happen. You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, like you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes freaking out about calling him.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, cringing at how awkward you sounded. “I just... wanted to see if you were ready for tomorrow’s study session.”

Lame. So, so lame.

Rafe chuckled softly. “You called me at night to ask about studying? I didn’t know I was that irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

He laughed again, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Too late. Anyway, I’m ready for tomorrow. Was studying really the reason you called?”

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both nodding furiously, encouraging you to say something—anything that wasn’t study-related.

“Well... maybe not just that,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

There was a pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, more serious. “I’m glad you called.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just muttered, “Yeah, me too.”

There was another moment of silence, like you were both trying to figure out what to say next.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafe said, his voice a little lower, almost... warmer? “Night.”

“Night,” you replied, and then the call ended.

You dropped your phone onto the couch, staring at it like it had just turned into a bomb.

Harper squealed. “He picked up right away! And he was flirty! Oh my God, he likes you!”

Ava clapped her hands, bouncing on the couch. “I knew it! He’s totally into you. Nevermind what we said earlier. Rafe Cameron is into you. We were wrong. Scratch the whole 'he’s just messing with your head' thing. He’s definitely catching feelings.”

You scowled, “Where’s your backbone? Five minutes ago, you were all, ‘Rafe’s trouble, don’t fall for it,’ and now you’re practically shipping us?”

Harper shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but that was before he picked up right away and sounded all soft. That’s different, babe.”

“Exactly!” Ava chimed in. “Nate who?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. He’s... safe. And uncomplicated. Why am I even entertaining this idea of Rafe?”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Because safe doesn’t make your heart race. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you stay up all night overthinking. If you were so into Nate, you wouldn’t be calling Rafe at night. Or letting him kiss you!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. They had a point, as annoying as it was. Nate might’ve been the goal, but Rafe was what had your head spinning. You groaned again, flopping back against the couch.

Sure, maybe he’d been acting a little off lately. Like, sometimes he’d actually ask you how your day was or show up when he knew you’d be around. You didn’t think much of it, though. That’s just how it was with guys like Rafe—he probably wanted something, or maybe he was just bored.

You huffed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “It’s just so stupid. He’s Rafe. He’s... ugh, he’s complicated, and I don’t even know if he’s serious, or if he’s just bored, or what. And now I’ve kissed him, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”

“And now you’re realizing that maybe Nate isn’t what you really want after all,” Harper finished.

You sighed, hugging a pillow to your chest. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He’d flirt, he’d flash that stupid grin, and then he’d move on like nothing ever happened. Why would you be different? 

“Easy. You figure out what you want. Not what Nate wants, not what Rafe wants. You. And until then, just... enjoy. No one said you had to decide everything right now.”

Harper nodded in agreement, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah. Take it slow. And for tonight, let’s just not overthinking every little thing, okay?”

Yet, you thought about him all night. You’d seen the way he treated other girls. He’d throw them those lazy smiles, the ones that practically screamed I’ll forget your name by tomorrow, and it always seemed to work.

They all fell for it—why wouldn’t they? Rafe was good at getting what he wanted, and he never stuck around long enough for things to get messy. You? You were invisible up until recently. He only paid attention when he felt like pissing you off. Your friends had to be reading too much into things.

This was Rafe. The same Rafe who was impossible to figure out, who never took anything seriously—least of all you. There was no way he liked you. 

But the next day came way too fast, and you were paying for it. Hard.

You groaned as you dragged yourself into the library, sunglasses on like they were going to somehow shield you from the pounding headache.

Harper and Ava had insisted on one more glass of wine, which of course, turned into two. And now, you were here, praying Rafe wouldn’t notice that you felt like death.

As you slumped into the chair across from him, he immediately raised an eyebrow, “Rough night?”

You gave him a look, your head already throbbing too much for his sarcasm. “Don’t even start, Cameron.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your state. “Wow, I can smell the regret from here. You look like you partied with a bottle of tequila and lost.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was wine, thank you very much. And yeah, it was a little too much.”

He chuckled softly, flipping open his notebook. “A little? You look like you just survived a war zone. Was the study session that boring to look forward to?”

“Ha ha, so funny,” you muttered, wincing as you reached for your bag. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Barely.” He tilted his head, clearly enjoying every second of it. “I’m impressed you made it at all. Should I have brought a bucket? You know, just in case?”

You glared at him from behind your sunglasses. “I hate you so much right now.”

Rafe just grinned, unfazed. “Trust me, it’s mutual. But seriously, you need water or something? You’re about two seconds away from face-planting on that table.”

You bit your lip, knowing he was right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Still, your mouth felt like a desert, and the thought of anything cold and hydrating sounded like heaven.

“Maybe… a coffee?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Huh? No?”

“You’re not drinking coffee before you eat.”

You squinted at him, thoroughly annoyed. “Rafe, I’m hungover, not five years old.”

He just raised an eyebrow, clearly not swayed.

“Hungover means your brain’s working even worse than normal, so yeah, I’m pulling the adult card here. You need food before coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, regretting it instantly as your head throbbed harder. “Fine. I’ll get food after the coffee.”

He shook his head, already getting up. “Nope. I’m grabbing you a bagel or something.”

“Rafe, seriously—” you started, but he was already walking away, not even bothering to let you finish.

You slumped back in your chair, groaning under your breath. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and your stomach was twisting in a way that wasn’t just from the hangover. But it was so typical of him to boss you around, like he knew what was best for you. He seemed almost too serious about all this, like it wasn’t just about breakfast or caffeine. Was he actually… worried?              

He was being so over-the-top about something so simple. Maybe he noticed things you didn’t even realize were slipping—how little you’d been eating, how tired you always seemed. You didn’t want him to worry, to get so wrapped up in how you were doing. But the fact that he did… 

Rafe returned, dropping a bagel in front of you. “Eat. Then you can have your coffee.”

You blinked at the bagel, caught off guard. “You actually got me food?”

He gave you a look. “You really thought I wouldn’t? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A pain in my ass?” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it. You unwrapped the bagel, taking a cautious bite, and, annoyingly, it actually helped. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Now, once you finish that, we’ll get started on actual studying. You might wanna take those sunglasses off too. It’s not that bright in here.”

“Stop being so smug about it,” you grumbled, but you took another bite of the bagel, your headache easing just a little.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he owned the place.

“Hey, if you’re gonna drink like that, you should at least have someone who can take care of you after.”

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this your way of saying you care?”

“Eat your bagel.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your chest. Why was he always like this? One minute he was the biggest pain, and the next, he was sweet? You took another bite of the bagel, trying to ignore the way his comment made your stomach do a weird little flip.

Rafe just watched you, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. "I'm not saying anything," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "But you did call me last night."

You nearly choked on your bagel. "That was for studying!"

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Oh, right. You totally call guys at night to talk about history."

You threw a balled-up napkin at him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Don't start with me, Cameron. You texted me first!"

"Fair enough," He caught the napkin effortlessly, still grinning, like teasing you was the highlight of his day. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "Don’t know if it’s the kiss or maybe you’re just starting to realize I'm not all bad."

You scoffed, trying to brush off how much that actually hit home.

"Please. You're still an entitled jerk, Rafe. One kiss doesn’t change that."

But the truth was, maybe it did change something. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. And now, sitting here with him being all unexpectedly considerate, it was getting harder to pretend like there wasn’t something going on.

“So it hasn’t been keeping you up at night?”

“Why would it? It was just a kiss. Happens all the time, right?”

His smirk widen, “So I didn’t get your panties in a twist?”

You were going to throw a book at his face.

"You’re so full of yourself," you muttered, trying to act unbothered, but your pulse quickened.

Rafe leaned in a little closer, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ with the way you keep getting flustered. You sure it didn’t mean anything?”

You narrowed your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you want me to say, Rafe? That I’m totally falling for you? That I can’t stop thinking about the kiss? Because that’s not happening.”

He chuckled softly, leaning back again, but something shifted in his expression. He was still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity now, almost like he was testing the waters.

“Good to know. Guess I’ll just keep doing my thing then.”

“Your thing? What, being an annoying, arrogant jerk?” you shot back, though there was less bite in your tone than usual.

Rafe’s lips twitched, “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you up at night.”

Ugh. Why was he like this? Why was this working on you?

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay focused on the whole reason you were here in the first place: studying, Nate, anything but this. But the way Rafe was looking at you right now, like he could see through all the walls you put up... yeah, it was messing with your head again.

"Can we just study now?" you grumbled, flipping open your textbook, praying the conversation would shift before your cheeks got any redder. "I didn’t drag myself here to talk about your ridiculous fantasies."

His grin softened into something more genuine, and he shook his head, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Let’s get started before your brain melts from that hangover.”

But as you pulled out your notes, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. And worse, you knew your heart was doing the same—stupid fluttering and all.

There was something about this back-and-forth with him that was starting to feel... different. And maybe, just maybe, that scared you more than you were willing to admit.

As the two of you dove into the study session, you tried—really tried—to focus on the material in front of you. But every time he leaned in a little closer or cracked a joke that made you roll your eyes, your mind wandered back to that kiss. To the way he looked at you when no one else was around. To the fact that, as much as you hated to admit it, Rafe Cameron was making you feel something you hadn’t expected.

“Do you remember that bonfire when we were sixteen?” he asked all of a sudden.

You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Which one? There were like, a million bonfires.”

“The one where you dumped your drink in my face.”

Your hand froze halfway to your mouth. Oh. That bonfire. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory came rushing back, clear as day.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something you forget. One minute I was talking to you, and the next, I was soaking wet with a face full of—what was it? Lemonade?”

“Spiked lemonade,” you corrected, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” he echoed, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “I asked if you wanted to hang out by the water. How’s that deserving a drink to the face?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the old annoyance bubble up again. “You asked me to hang out after you and your friends had spent the whole night making fun of me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, maybe we were a little rough back then. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a dick that night.”

“You were always a dick,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind your words. Sixteen-year-old you had despised him and his cocky attitude. 

He smirked, “You were so pissed off. Your face was all red, and you were shaking with anger, like you couldn’t believe I’d even dared to speak to you.”

“You had it coming.”

“I probably did,” he agreed, a softer look crossing his face. “But I remember thinking, even back then, you were different. You didn’t take shit from anyone.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Wait, are you actually complimenting me right now? What is happening?”

Rafe just grinned, leaning back again, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve always had more fight in you.”

Your stomach did that weird little flip again, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the crumbs left on the table. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such an ass, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“I think that’s why I liked messing with you so much.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You always pushed back.”

You bit your lip, not sure how to respond to that. The Rafe you remembered from back then was all arrogance and teasing, but this... this was different. It was like he was admitting that he’d seen you in a way no one else had back then. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching cut your conversation short. You glanced up, thinking it might just be another student passing by, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Nate walking toward you and Rafe.

Rafe’s smirk faded instantly when he spotted him approaching.

“Hey,” Nate greeted with a casual smile, though his eyes flicked quickly between you and Rafe, “Didn’t know you guys studied here too.”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal even though your brain was racing. “Yeah, uh, just catching up on some work.”

Nate’s smile wavered slightly as his gaze lingered on Rafe, then back to you. “Mind if I join? I was just gonna find a spot to get some work done, but...” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

For a second, you were torn. Nate was here, right in front of you—the guy you’d been chasing for months, the one who was supposed to be the plan. But Rafe was sitting across from you.

He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms with that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, sure, the more, the merrier.”

You shot him a look, silently pleading with him not to make this worse, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation.

Nate pulled out a chair, setting his bag down, “What’re you working on?” he asked, glancing between you and Rafe.

Before you could answer, Rafe spoke up, again, “Just a little review. Nothing too complicated, right?” His eyes flicked to you, daring you to answer.

You swallowed hard, feeling both their gazes on you. “Yeah, just going over some notes. We’re almost done, actually.”

Nate’s eyes lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than necessary, like he was sizing him up. “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll just... grab a spot over there.” 

“You do that.”

“Rafe.” you grumbled under your breath, kicking him under the table.

"You wanna grab lunch after? I was gonna head to that new sandwich place, and figured you might want to come."

For a split second, you hesitated. Lunch with Nate was the safe, easy option—exactly what you’d been trying to hold onto. But the way Rafe was watching you now... Nate’s invitation wasn’t just about lunch. It was a claim, a reminder that he was the one you were supposed to be into.

"I, um—” you started, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You’d just spent the last half hour trying to convince yourself that Rafe didn’t matter. That this whole thing with him wasn’t a big deal. But now, with Nate standing right here, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting.

Rafe stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, looks like you’ve got plans," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at you, before grabbing his notebook. "Catch you later, I guess."

Before you could say anything, he walked away, his footsteps heavy as he left the library. You stared after him, your heart doing this weird thing where it felt like it was both racing and sinking at the same time.

Nate raised an eyebrow, watching Rafe go. "That guy’s... intense," he said, his tone light, but you could tell he was fishing for something.

You forced a smile, "Yeah, that’s Rafe for you."

But even as you said it, your mind wasn’t on Nate. It was still stuck on Rafe—on the way he’d looked at you before he left, like maybe he’d been hoping you wouldn’t just go along with Nate’s plan. Like maybe he’d wanted you to choose something different.

"So, lunch?" Nate asked again, his smile back in place, but it didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.

You swallowed hard, nodding automatically. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”

But as you followed him out of the library, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you’d just walked away from something important. 

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write something where Chrissy continuously tries flirting with Eddie just because she doesn’t really like you (which she makes known every time you’re even in her general area) and thinks she’d be a better match for Eddie. Fortunately in the end, Eddie chooses you because you’re the love of his life and Chrissy is just some girl he liked in high school

Please please please?

You have asked with a lot of "please" so I will. I hope this is what you were looking for. I did tweak it a little where Eddie never liked Chrissy in the first place, so I'm sorry about that change

Never proofread

~~~

Y/N had a crush on Eddie Munson ever since she first saw him. She was a grade below him so they never had classes together. She'd watch him during lunch, drooling over his sweet eyes, soft nose, and kissable lips. She had a crush on him since last year when she accidentally walked into hellfire. She was searching for her class when she walked into the wrong room. Her eyes connected with his. He looked at her confused as she looked lost. He directed her to the right class but he never left her mind after that.

And now? She was part of hellfire, all for the purpose of the leader. She took the time to learn how to play and create her character. That doesn't mean she knew what she was doing. When she first joined she lied and said she's played countless times, but once he asked what her class and statistics were, it was clear she had no idea of an answer.

For the past few months, Eddie has been tutoring her on how to play. He said she couldn't be part of Hellfire until after she learned some more. Which she was fine with, alone time with Eddie standing behind her as he leaned down to point things out? God, she was in heaven.

The more she spent time with him the more she grew confident in flirting. She liked him, and he seemed to enjoy having her around. From what she has heard, Eddie doesn't care to talk with "sheep." And he didn't accept new people in Hellfire, but she must have been different. He must have liked something about her.

She'd scoot closer, always resting her hand on his thigh. Giggling at all his jokes and softly smacking his arm. She'd compliment his rings, running her fingers around his hands, slipping off his ring, and putting it on herself.

Their DND dates turned into real dates, sitting in his van as they shared a milkshake. Talking about everything other than DND. Some of the dates ended in making out.

Practically dating at this point, just not official, Y/N felt herself growing irritated at Chrissy's obvious advances toward Eddie. It was like she appeared out of nowhere. Squeezing herself in the way of her and Eddie.

Y/N hated to admit it, but it made her jealous and insecure. Chrissy was a cheerleader, popular, and knew how to have guys wrapped around her finger. And Y/N was just a girl a grade below that learned to play DND to impress her crush.

Eddie Munson had a cheerleader flirting with him, what kind of chance did Y/N even have.

Since Y/N was a member, she got to join the Hellfire lunch table. She sat next to Eddie, always sharing her lunch since Eddie only packed a snack and his drugs for his deals. Between lunch, hellfire, their DND study sessions, and small dates in his van, they were never too far apart. But Chrissy began to change that.

~~~

Eddie had his arm thrown over Y/N's shoulder as he walked them to his van. Hellfire ended late and he offered to bring her home. They were talking about the campaign as they walked through the parking lot. Only to be stopped when Chrissy bounced in front of them.

Chrissy's blue eyes stayed on Eddie and Eddie only. Not acknowledging Y/N's presence at all.

"Thank gosh I caught you, Eds, could you help me with my car? It's not starting and I really need to get home." A pout on her lips as she asked.

"oh yeah, of course." Eddie smiled. Eddie was a nice guy, no matter what people thought.

Chrissy smiled and ran off to her car, Eddie took his arm off of Y/N's shoulder and handed her his keys.

"Okay to wait for me in the van, gorgeous?" He winked as the keys landed in her hand. Y/N hated that the nickname and wink made her whole body burn.

"I'm okay to wait, Eds" a little more aggressive with the nickname than she hoped. Quickly walking to his van, praying he didn't hear the change in her voice.

Eddie watched her to make sure she made it into the van, once she shut the door, he turned and made his way to Chrissy.

Y/N hated but also was happy she could see them from his van. Her eyes burning as she watched Chrissy flirt with him the whole time. She couldn't make out words, but she could read body language. Chrissy was facing Eddie completely, leaning in close to him as he talked, probably about the car. Chrissy was twirling her hair, smiling the whole time, and never once looking away from him.

Once she tried her car and it began to run, she jumped out and threw herself in his arms. He looked caught off guard but hugged her back. Y/N hated the twisting in her gut.

Then she watched as Chrissy leaned up and kissed Eddie's cheek. Y/N decided that was enough for her eyes to see. Turning her attention to her backpack, pulling out her notebook and going over today's campaign in her head. Her eyes caught sight of the random doodles Eddie drew as they played. Her attention shifted when the driver side door opened and slammed shut.

Y/N greeted Eddie's arrival and put away her notebook. Her eyes catching as Eddie placed a piece of paper in his cup holder. Black ink written with a phone number and heart. Y/N felt her heart sink.

"I see you got the cheerleaders phone number? That's quite big." Y/N said, clenching her jaw as she tried not to sound incredibly jealous.

Eddie shrugged it off, starting to pull out of the parking lot as he said, "Just in case she has car troubles again, she wanted me to recognize her number."

But Y/N knew that was not the reason Chrissy gave Eddie her phone number.

"Oh.... car troubles." She mumbled to herself.

~~~

And she was right. Over the past few days, Chrissy flirted more with Eddie, still ignoring Y/N's existence.

Y/N was on Eddie's lap, his hands holding her hips as she rocked against him. Her tongue twirled with his as they panted into each other. Eddie moaned at the taste of her tongue, moving her hips faster against his growing bulge.

His lips began to move down her neck when his phone started ringing. He pulled away with an apologetic smile, lifting her off of his lap and setting her on the cushion next to her.

She cleaned off her lips and watched as he fixed his jeans and walked towards the phone.

"Chrissy? Hey."

Y/N could feel any sort of good mood she had just vanished. The urge to roll her eyes grew stronger with every minute.

Eddie wrapped up the call and returned to Y/N's side. Smirking as he went to grab her hips again when she shuffled out of his reach. He eyed her closely.

"What's up?" He asked, resting his hand on her thigh.

"So I see she just calls whenever now" Y/N huffed out, she wanted to sound calm, but she was failing. She could practically watch the wheels turn in his head.

"Um yeah, sometimes about random stuff. Is that upsetting you?" He asked, and he was genuinely asking. She could tell he wasn't teasing or mocking her. But it made her feel stupid to even answer. What would she say? Oh yes, you taking the pretty cheerleader's phone number is making me jealous.

"Nope, I'm fine." She brushed it off

"You sure? You don't seem fine." He tried, and that was a mistake.

Eddie watched as she jumped off the couch.

"My god! I said I was fine. I don't care that Chrissy flirts with you, rubs your arm during school, and giggles at your jokes at a lunch table she's not even supposed to be part of. I don't care that she calls you while we are in the middle of making out. I don't fucking care!" She snapped, slamming the door on her way out.

Eddie was quick to race after her. She sat on the ground, picking at the grass as he walked down his trailer's steps.

"Didn't make it too far." He tried to joke, but all she did was shrug.

"I realized you were my ride." She mumbled to herself.

"How about we talk about what just happened, and then I can take you home." He offered, sitting next to her.

"Nothing to talk about. I said I was fine." She said, turning to him with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Okay well even if you are fine, I would still like to talk about it. We were having a good time before Chrissy called and after that, you stormed out." Eddie explained

"Sorry that I don't feel like making out after precious Chrissy called." Y/N snapped.

"See! That right there. You are not fine. Chrissy upsets you....and it's because she flirts with me?" Eddie questioned.

"Look, I know it is stupid so can we just forget it? " Y/N sighed. She just wanted to go home and forget about this whole conversation.

"I never said it was stupid." He said softly, grabbing her hand that was yanking the grass and holding it in his lap.

"I just got jealous." She finally confessed

"Why?"

With that question, she felt like she could have smacked him.

"Why? Jesus Eddie, do you even pay attention? I fucking like you, I joined Hellfire to spend time with you. And we started getting closer and then Chrissy showed up with her perfect eyes, perfect smile, and perfect everything and just swept herself on in. How am I supposed to compete with that?" She rushed out, and the grip on his hand grew tight.

"Who said you had to compete with her?" Eddie questioned her, a teasing smile on his face.

She scoffed and shook her head, "Come on Eddie, it is between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's obvious who you will pick."

"I don't think I made it obvious enough, otherwise we wouldn't have to have this conversation."

"What?" Now she was confused.

"There is no competition, there is no Chrissy and I. You are wrong about everything. It's not between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's my girl and my girl only. I like you. I broke every rule I set about Hellfire just to let you join. I don't notice her, I never did and I never will. But I've always noticed you and I always will. If you so desperately want me to pick between my girl and just a cheerleader, I pick you." He spoke softly, practically whispering at the end of his speech. His hand cupped her jaw as he tilted her head to look at him.

She wasn't sure what to say so she didn't try. Just reaching up to press her lips against his.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulled away. "Will you be my girlfriend? Let me show you it's just you and you only."

"Yes," she whispered and pressed her lips against his again.

Maybe the competition was in her head all along, either way, she was in Eddie's arms and that's where she wanted to be.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[chillian-murphy]

Let Your Big Brother Take Care of You

SUMMARY: While visiting your stepbrother at college, you have a hard time falling asleep after some drunken mishaps. He helps you out.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dubcon, stepcest, intoxication, fingering, comfort sex kinda??, gratuitous mention of Taco Bell

Beta read by @sasybanana

Actually visiting with your step-brother had been the last thing on your mind when you told your parents that you would be visiting him this weekend. Sure, you got along fine, but you barely knew each other and it felt like he was moving out for college as soon as your families joined. Instead, you were hellbent on finding the best partying and hooking up opportunities his film school had to offer. Framing it as a sisterly visit and a chance to learn about campus life was purely an excuse to convince your parents to let you travel on your own, which they seemed to buy as you were headed off to school yourself next year. Besides, Neil had an off campus apartment you could crash at, which would be cheaper than a hotel.

He greeted you with a hug as you entered and set your stuff down, instantly being assaulted by the scent of unwashed laundry and old weed smoke. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was a nice taste of freedom from your mom’s house.

“So, my baby sister wants to visit me for the weekend, for reasons not at all related to my school’s reputation as a party campus?” He smirked as you situated yourself.

“Of course! Just like how my big brother spends all the money he gets from our parents on textbooks and tuition.” you shot back.

“Touché. Well, whatever trouble you’re determined to get into, fuck, I dunno, be smart about it. Use condoms, don’t get drugged. Don’t drink so much that you puke, or at least, try to puke somewhere other than carpet.”

“Wow… so caring.” you rolled your eyes as you headed to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. You snatched a flyer off of a phone pole for a house party, and the directions you got off google said it was only a few blocks away. As soon as you had your heels and your lashes on, you were off.

**********************************************************************************

Stumbling back to Neil’s apartment with your heels in your hand, the night had been a bust. You finished too many mystery drinks too fast and ended up puking in the lap of the one guy who was interested in you, locked yourself in the bathroom to cry for the better part of an hour, and bolted for the door as soon as you pulled yourself together. Thank fuck Neil had the first apartment on the first floor, otherwise you might not have been able to find it in your impaired state.

The door was unlocked, and Neil hadn’t moved from his place on the couch in the hours that you had been gone, presumably wrapped up in whatever it is that he does in his spare time (Watch movies? Play video games? Jerk off? You really didn’t know). This was fine, you really didn’t need him noticing you at the moment. You tried to enter quietly, but tripped over yourself as you moved.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Neil rushed over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. Unable to form words, you started crying again when you met his gaze, big fat mascara tears rolling down your cheeks. Even as he helped you to stand, you wobbled on your way up and had to lean on him for support.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Dunno… a lot.” It was true, you had chugged whatever you were handed and helped yourself to a variety of half-finished cups that were abandoned by their owners. You had never drank this much before, and had no idea how much was too much until it was too late.

“Shit, um, let’s get you to the bed. The room is yours tonight, don’t worry about it. Do you think you can walk that far?” There was genuine concern in his tone, even if he was a bit panicked and clueless. He looped an arm around your waist and guided you as best he could to the tiny room. Your flop onto the twin bed wasn’t exactly graceful, but landing on a mattress was about a thousand times more comfortable than landing on the floor.

As soon as Neil turned to leave, you began fighting your way out of your tight, itchy dress. Unfortunately, the zipper was stuck (damn cheap clothing) and the garment was too fitted to pull over your head. Refusing to spend any more time stuck in scratchy fabric hell (Seriously, Forever 21, who sells unlined sequined dresses?), you continued wrestling with the zipper and wiggling to find a better angle until you rolled off the bed and landed with a thud. Not knowing what else to do, you shouted for your stepbrother.

The worried look on his face quickly turned into an eye roll as he entered the room and saw you on the floor again.

“So are you like… determined to spend the whole night down there? Undeniably attracted to shitty carpeting? Horny for the floor?” Having a laugh at your drunken expense might not have been the nicest thing for Neil to do, but you were being such a handful tonight.

“I can’t get my dress off,” you sheepishly mumbled as you avoided his gaze. “The zipper’s stuck and I need your help.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Neil soothed as he knelt down to meet you on the floor. “If anything, I’m flattered… Usually I have to buy a girl dinner before she even thinks of asking me to undress her.”

You shot him an unamused glare, but nonetheless turned and leaned towards him so he could reach the zipper. His touch was warm and gentle as he fiddled with the impossibly tiny hook-and-eye clasp atop the zipper, one hand gently pressed against your upper back to steady you while the other went to work. Before you knew it, the dress slackened and you were able to free yourself from its confines, modesty be damned.

“A tiny little dress and no bra? You really were planning to have fun tonight.” You were still turned away from Neil and couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“It has built-in cups, pervert!” you huffed as you rushed to cover yourself. You groped around for a t-shirt or something before remembering that you were in an unfamiliar room and not at home. “Get out, I just wanna sleep.”

“That doesn’t explain the little lacy panties, though.” Neil let his eyes trail over you before tossing you one of his own shirts. It was true, you had gone out partying with the hope of hooking up as quickly and anonymously as possible, but you weren’t going to admit that. All you wanted was to gain a little sexual experience of your own before heading out to college, but now the only boy to see you naked was your weird stepbrother. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can’t even stand and I’ve had to help you up twice. You’re too much of a mess to be alone.”

He helped you onto the bed again, only this time he climbed in behind you after hitting the light. The bed was small enough that there was almost no choice but to snuggle up to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. As weird as the whole situation was, it felt nice having him there, like a grounding tether against the spinning sensation in your head.

“For what it’s worth, I thought you looked really cute tonight. Before all the puking and crying and falling, I mean.” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. As sweet as the gesture was, you couldn’t ignore the growing gurgle in your stomach.

“Neil… I want Taco Bell.”

“I’ll buy you all the Taco Bell in the world tomorrow if you settle down and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you buried your face into the crook between Neil’s neck and shoulder as he pulled you closer and idly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the sensation, which Neil tried his hardest to ignore.

Had you been a little more awake or a little more sober, you might’ve noticed the hitch in Neil’s breath as his hand trailed up and down your back, or the way his hand soon opened into a flat palm and started exploring lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your panties. Instead, you continued to lay silently, dozing off as his hand inched lower.

Eventually, his hand made its way to your ass and cupped the supple flesh. Feeling emboldened by your lack of response, Neil began to squeeze and knead. This made you squirm away, but in doing so, you were met with the perfect amount of friction as your clothed pussy rubbed against Neil’s thigh. Neither of you had realized just how closely you were snuggled together until now, when it dawned on you both what was happening.

Part of you panicked, part of you realizing that this was wrong through your drunken haze, but another part of you only cared that you were being touched, and it felt pleasurable. That was the whole reason you made this trip, right? you rationalized to yourself as you attempted to grind against your stepbrother’s thigh a second time. 

Instead of being met with the delicious friction, you felt Neil shift beneath you. Did you fuck this up? Were you just imagining his hand on your ass? But before you could worry any further, he was rolling you onto your back with his thick, firm leg pressing between your thighs and spreading them, and the unmistakable poking of his erection against the spot where your hip met your belly. He pushed his thigh against you, inviting you to grind it.

“Is this what my horny little sister needs? Can’t fall asleep without coming?” His voice was low and husky, in equal parts from being half asleep and his obvious arousal. You were starting to transition from drunk to hungover, feeling more drowsy and dizzy than anything else, and the most you could answer with was a pathetic little whimper as he nudged you.

You rubbed yourself against him as best you could, unable to find just the right angle from the new position you were placed in. In a fit of frustration, you tried pushing Neil off of you so you could rub yourself with your hand, but he was deceptively strong and had you pinned.

“Neeeeeeeeeiiiillllll” you whined, once again wondering if this was all a mistake, maybe you should just try to fall asleep and forget this ever happened. Forget the whole night ever happened. Change your name, move across the country, and never talk to anyone who witnessed tonight ever again.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, just lie there and let your big brother take care of you.”

Just lying there was about all you could do as Neil snaked one of arms between your legs, stroking your folds through your panties a bit aimlessly before gathering the courage to reach beneath the cloth and explore further. After a bit of awkward poking around, he found your clit and began circling it gently with his fingertips, eliciting another whimper, this time of pleasure.

“See? I know exactly what you need. M’gonna play with your little pussy until you relax and fall asleep, like a good girl.” His fingers began teasing your slit, tracing up and down its length without daring to breach inside. It never would have occurred to you that Neil would know his way around pussy, he never brought any girls home when he lived with you. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice after moving out, because the way his fingers were just barely ghosting over you was driving you crazy in a way you couldn’t understand. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue exactly what he was doing, you wanted him to start giving you more. All you knew was that you wanted him, and for him to keep touching you.

As if he could read your mind, he spread your innermost lips and plunged two of his fingers inside. The stretch was sudden, but not at all unwelcome. You were wet enough for him to thrust his fingers in and out of you easily, spreading your slick wherever he touched. As soon as he began alternating between fucking you on his fingers and roughly toying with your clit, you started seeing stars.

“You like that? You like me finger fucking your tight little pussy? I wish I could see it, I bet it's all pink and cute, like your nipples. I bet you’ve never even taken a cock before."

Too drunk, too horny, and too tired to form words, the most you could do was shyly squeak in affirmation.

“Next time I’ll have you bounce on my cock so I can watch your face as you come. Or maybe I’ll eat you out so I can really get to see how cute your pussy is. Or maybe you’ll just want to pay back the favor I’m doing you now and suck me off.”

Next time? You hadn’t considered something like this happening again, or even the fact that you’d have to see him again. In mixed company. With your parents around. Would he fuck you in your childhood bedroom while everyone else was downstairs cooking dinner? Or would he keep your liaisons a dirty little secret that only happened away from home?

You didn’t care. You were coming from your stepbrother’s touch, in your stepbrother’s bed, far away from anyone else you knew. You felt your stomach tighten and your toes involuntarily curl, much stronger than you ever felt sneakily rubbing yourself in the shower. Thank fuck you were in a dark room, because you swore you could feel your face going all stupid.

You must not have realized how much you were panting and clenching around his fingers, because Neil seemed to know exactly how close you were and began whispering in your ear, encouraging you to come. You could barely register what he was saying, you were so lost in the sensation of his breath on your neck and his hand on your cunt.

Your orgasm finally took hold, and you could hear yourself babbling in pleasure but had no idea what you were saying, if you were even forming coherent words, as the pleasure ripped through your body like an electric shock. After the initial burst, you felt your body relax in a way you didn’t know was possible, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding. You swore you could feel yourself melting through the mattress before realizing that no, that was just sweat.

Noticing that you were lying there like a limp noodle and no longer squirming and moaning, Neil rolled off of you, withdrawing his hand from your panties. His fingers were completely soaked with your wetness, and while his initial instinct was to wipe them off on his shirt, roll over, and go to sleep, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was rock hard. In a stroke of genius that would soon lead to literal stroking, he realized he had the perfect lube on hand.

He shoved his drenched hand down his boxers and began tugging his desperate member, softly grunting in rhythm with his pumping fist. Part of you felt bad that you weren’t helping, you had kinda forgotten that Neil was a complete person with desires of his own and not just a machine to get you off, but you were cozy and half asleep and he seemed to be handling the situation well enough on his own. At least, well enough that he was coming all over the front of his shirt.

He carefully pulled his soiled shirt over his head and wiped off his hand and what was left of his mess before tossing it on the floor and reaching for the blanket that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed amidst all the excitement. You felt yourself being tucked in as you gently dozed off, snuggling into Neil’s side as soon as he laid down beside you.

Yeah, you were going to visit your step brother a lot more often now.

[xileonaaaa]

Thinking of Boyfriend!Choso

He’s not a shy twink who stutters after every word.

Tribute/ coping post after jjk chapter 259. 🙏

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Boyfriend!Choso who spent countless days, weeks, even months just trying to put a name to the feelings you gave him whenever you were around.

Boyfriend!Choso who confided in his little brother about said feelings, and when he was told that what he was experiencing was an emotion called “love”, he wasted no time in literally telling you the next day.

Boyfriend!Choso who (unknowingly) confessed to you in the most inconspicuous way imaginable. (He didn’t even notice what he was saying until he saw your awe-stricken face. You said yes ofc!)

Boyfriend!Choso who assumed his boyfriend role in a heartbeat, and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pulling you.

Boyfriend!Choso who always makes sure that you feel your best, because to him, you always look your best. Don’t feel confident in your outfit? Better believe he’ll be your number one hype man.

Boyfriend!Choso who never, ever, ever, ever makes berating jokes towards you, regardless of the context.

Boyfriend!Choso who always makes sure you get everything off your chest. Never hide your true feelings from him. If you’re mad at him? “Okay, let’s sit down and talk about this.”

Boyfriend!Choso who you never end up fighting with, because he’s the embodiment of “we live, and we learn.” He listens when you come to him about something that he’s done/ or not done, and he promises to do better, and it’s not like he’s just saying that because he really does do better.

Boyfriend!Choso who’s quite inexperienced in a lot of things, and spends his free time learning about the ins and outs of relationships.

Boyfriend!Choso who always looks uninterested in what you’re doing, but is actually quite the opposite. (He’s always paying attention, making sure you don’t hurt yourself, or need help.)

Boyfriend!Choso who always looks a bit stunned whenever you look in his general direction, but always smiles that small, tight-lipped smile whenever he makes eye contact with you.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves being needed by you. Can’t reach something on the top shelf? He’ll get it for you. Scared to go in a spooky, cursed filled tunnel by yourself? Don’t worry, he’ll go in first, and clear the path for you.

Boyfriend!Choso who you never have to worry about possibly cheating on you. He is literally infatuated with you. The two of you could go out in public, and all eyes would be on him, and his focused solely on you. (If it isn’t you or his family, he could really care less.)

Boyfriend!Choso who takes the time to learn the things he knows you like. He would teach himself how to cook, so you wouldn’t have to spend so much money on take-outs. He’d learn how to do basic chores for times when you weren’t quite feeling like yourself.

Boyfriend!Choso who always puts your needs before his own. Are you hungry? Sure, he’ll whip up some of your favorite food, and have it ready in no-time. Are you tired, and don’t feel like going to the school? He’ll just call Yuuji, and ask him to inform Gojo about your absence. Anything you could possibly need, he’ll do it all.

Boyfriend!Choso who is naturally protective of you, and won’t hesitate to throw himself into incoming danger for your sake, even if he really is outclassed.

Boyfriend!Choso who used to question what he was, finds himself radiating with new found confidence that you’d given him.

Boyfriend!Choso who isn’t exactly clingy, but at the same time he is. (He follows you around like a lost puppy, with an aura of a guard dog.) Wherever you go, he goes, unless you say otherwise.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves to let you fall asleep on his chest. (Your weight grounds him in all the right ways.)

Boyfriend!Choso who simply can’t imagine how his life as a human would’ve turned out, had it not been for you.

Boyfriend!Choso who is the most loving, doting, caring, supportive, and protective boyfriend you could ever ask for.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves you with all of his cursed heart.

[dwindlinghaze]

endless empathy

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: post full moon remus who just wants to be with you

contents: short fic, fluff fluff idk more fluff lol :) established relationship, descriptions of kissing

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"how're you holding up moony? just a few more steps to the hospital wing and you'll be better," sirius said. remus' arms were over james and sirius' shoulders, each supporting their injured friend.

finally arriving at the hospital wing, which for him took so long. remus sighed as he rested his body against the mattress. it wasn't the comfiest but better than nothing. his chest was aching painfully, with new fresh scars from that night. no matter how many times he had transformed, he never got used to the unbearable pain of it all.

madam pomfrey patched him up, quickly shooing away the james, sirius, and peter out of sight.

"where's my girl?" the first thing remus thought right after he woke up is where you were. james and sirius were visiting remus just like any other full moons, but you weren't there... yet.

"she'll be here soon moony," sirius said, trying to crack an assuring smile. just then you walked in with his breakfast in a paper bag, eyes searching for your boyfriend. "long live, she's here."

"morning everyone, morning love," you bowed down to kiss his temple gently, making sure not to make any direct contact against his healing skin. it really hurts to smile when there are scars all over his face, but he couldn't help it.

"we should leave them to be," james said before dragging sirius away out the wing.

"feeling better?" you asked as you opened his breakfast. you've learned to cut them in smaller pieces to avoid remus' scars from opening again due to facial movements.

remus hummed as he reached for your hand. "much better." you fed him his usual breakfast as you tell him about your day and the little information about what you dreamt last night.

"sorry," he whispered, shame washed over him as he took in how pathetic he must look right now. pale, lost of blood, dry, cold.

"don't be sorry for anything," you cupped his face gently. "i love taking care of you rem. makes me happy by just spending time with you."

remus melted at your words as he shuffled to get closer to you. burying his face on your arm, kissing the skin softly.

madame pomfrey walked in and smiled at the two of you as she made her way with some healing potions in the tray she held. in the lady's eyes, you both were like a couple straight out from a book. one always seeks out for the other.

"i suppose he can return back to his dormitory, seeing he heals faster each time," the old woman said, more to you than to remus. "some potions just in case the gashes opened, 'tis all he needs."

remus visibly blushed, seeing you nodding at madam pomfrey. "i can help with that," you offered and she let you, handing the bottle of yellow liquid. she opted for you to use the pipette, adding a few drops before smearing it lightly across the cuts on his back.

"practicing for the old days?" the older woman said in a teasing tone yet very flat. she usually was stern and strict but seeing remus being taken care of by you softened her.

remus cheeks were tinted pink, lucky he was facing the other way. you chuckled in response, shaking your head at her remark.

after madam pomfrey left, you helped remus to put his sweater on, whispering sweet encouragements. you sat down beside him and circled an arm around his torso. he leaned into your touch, cheeks pressing against your neck.

"wanna go back to my dorm," remus mumbled, lifting his head up slowly to catch your eyes.

"of course, just hold on to me," you started to stand up, opening your arms for him to hold onto.

the walk was slow with you trying to help him up. gosh the amount of stairs hogwarts has is unbelievable. remus was strong enough to climb all of them so now he's on his bed, body flat against the mattress.

"lay beside me princess, please?" he asked, looking up at you with the most adoring eyes. he really wanted you to hold him. after a rough night at the shrieking shack, all he needed is the comfort of his love.

"of course," you replied, sliding down beside him as you cover both of your bodies beneath his warm blanket. he threw his arm over your body, face pressing against your chest.

"want cuddles," he mumbled. you always love it when remus gets all mushy and sickly adorable. he was always like this after a full moon and you could never complain. you want nothing more than to hold him and protect him from the nasty world.

moving to a better position, remus looked up at you, smiling before he pressed his lips against yours. it was a soft and sweet kiss, nothing hungry or heated. he badly wanted to feel you.

when you smiled in between his lips, he couldn't help but smile too, pressing harder this time.

"d'you want a back massage?" you asked softly when he groaned in the middle of the kiss, trying to get up to kiss you more.

"yes but i also want to kiss you," he pouted, dipping down to connect your lips again.

before he could though, you held his jaw, noses were already touching. "pick one love, can't do that at the same time," you spoke, in which he returned by a whine and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a while, seemingly thinking about the decision.

"what about kissing and back rubs?" he said, lifting his head up again to look at you. his eyes held such softness and warmth, contrast to what he was just hours ago.

"sure can," you giggled. it is so hard to resist him. moving your hand around his back in a soft circular motion, remus sighed softly against your face, nuzzling further to your skin.

he pressed his cheeks against yours, smiling in pure bliss. then he moved away to capture your lips in his afterwards, moulding together perfectly.

your lips are the softest, he loves kissing them so much. the position you both were in made it possible for him to feel your heart beating against his. he can feel your heartbeats thumping. it makes him so happy- just by feeling the beat of your heart.

the sweet kiss you shared was now turning more into a soft make out session. him nibbling at your bottom lips as you both pulled away slightly to breathe.

you two have a brief eye contact, smiles slowly creeping up your cheeks. he looked down at your pink plumped lips, glistening perfectly for him to dive down again to continue on what he has left.

that whole day, you spent your time with remus laying above you, body pressed against the other comfortably. you didn't know how long you both made out but your lips were now in the brightest shade of pink.

[sordidmusings]

Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him.  He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes. 

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.) 

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back.  It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head.  He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

[luvhughes43]

the beginning | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️

summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 5.6k

The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 

You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 

All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 

When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 

One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 

“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 

⋆ ★

“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 

“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 

The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 

“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 

“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 

“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 

the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.

“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 

“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 

“It’s time to go,” 

you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 

“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 

⋆ ★

“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 

your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 

your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 

“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.

“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 

Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.

“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 

“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 

You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..

You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 

You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 

“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”

Jack chuckles, “my bad” 

The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”

“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 

Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 

“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”

“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.

“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.

“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 

“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”

“you moved on your own at 18”

“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 

Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 

“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 

“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”

You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.

“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 

After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 

Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 

You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 

He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”

“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”

You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 

“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 

You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 

Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 

“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 

Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 

“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.

“But I didn't..” 

“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”

“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 

“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 

“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 

“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 

Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 

Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 

Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions

You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.

⋆ ★

After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 

“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 

“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 

“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 

“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 

There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 

“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!

“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 

“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 

“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 

“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 

⋆ ★

The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 

Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 

Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 

You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 

“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 

“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 

Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.

“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.

“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 

Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 

You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 

“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.

You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 

“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 

you were falling hard. 

⋆ ★

The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 

Ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

Ynuser life recently...

Tagged: jackhughes

That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 

After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 

It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.

You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 

Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 

⋆ ★

The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 

You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.

It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.

You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 

“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.

“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”

“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 

“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 

Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 

A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 

You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 

The drive to your apartment was quiet. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”

Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 

When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 

Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.

⋆ ★

Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 

user82

Liked by jackhughes, and others

user82 recently… 🍸

“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”

“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 

Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 

“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 

“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 

Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

⋆ ★

After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 

On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 

“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 

“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 

“Okay… and did she tell you that?”

“I can tell” 

Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 

For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.

“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 

“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 

“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   

“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 

“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.

“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 

“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 

“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 

“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 

Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 

“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 

Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 

“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 

You never called. 

⋆ ★

A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 

“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 

“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 

“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 

“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 

“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 

You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 

“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 

“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 

“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 

“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 

In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 

“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 

“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 

“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”

Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 

“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 

Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.

“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 

⋆ ★

After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 

Amazon: Upcoming Delivery

Hi Yn Ln,

This confirms your purchase from Tampax

Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.

Thank you for using Amazon Pay.

Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.

February

January

December

You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 

Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 

Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 

You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 

“That’ll be $65.24” 

It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 

You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 

You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 

Positive

Pregnant

+

Two lines

⋆ ★

The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 

After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 

You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 

No result. 

You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 

fuck. 

That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 

You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 

jackhughes

unblock

Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 

You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 

It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 

⋆ ★

You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.

Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 

What the fuck were you going to do.

part two

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.