#i will keep leading with kindness and not shit talk people i don’t even know just because they give you ‘a vibe’

[d3l3t3d-deactivated]

meow

[coyote-fawn]

.

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[grippingbeskar]

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

[bigfatbimbo]

saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭

anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees

i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏

summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.

warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence

a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.

So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.

And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!

Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?

Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.

Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.

Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.

Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’

Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.

Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first. Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show. Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.) But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome. For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink. Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.

And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.

Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.

But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.

Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do. And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent. Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone. Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be?? It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees. But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however. So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not? They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val. Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox. He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette. Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it? He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation! But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working. You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message. Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.

a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.

Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.

if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw

[cupid-styles]

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Can you shut the door?” 

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look. 

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 

“What?” 

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in. 

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together. 

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

[hopefulfuturenovelauthor]

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

Hi, sorry for taking so long, but I am very grateful for your patience!

Here you go...

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

I would like to state that I’m assuming you meant Martian Manhunter and not Miss Martian, but in the case that I am wrong and you meant Miss Martian let me know and I’ll add her to this or write a super-long essay of your guy’s relationship or something!

As always please do not copy my work in any way, shape, or form. Thanks!

Warnings: none i think... not spell checked...

Bruce Wayne

Dating Bruce Wayne? Gotham’s favorite Billionaire and the Batman? Wow, good luck.

There is a lot of angsty shit in your relationship. Keep in mind it’s not like you guys have like crazy issues or anything, not to say that the Joker isn’t a crazy issue, but I mean that you don’t actually fight with each other a lot. 

You disagree quite a bit considering you watch him on monitors and he goes out and actually gets hurt, but all of that frustration and worry comes from a place of care.

However, you didn’t talk to him for days when he decided to let Dick join him in the field. You were beyond upset, especially since you knew the dangers of crime-fighting yourself, seeing as you used to be a vigilante. 

Regardless of that, it was Dick that convinced you to cut Bruce some slack. Eventually, you came to agree with the teenager, but only after you kicked Bruce where the sun doesn’t shine.

On a nicer note, definitely lots of gifts coming from his end even though he is called the dark knight.

Even when you were both playing hero and he didn’t know who you were under the mask he gave you little gadgets. You two had also met outside of hero-ing and in your real lives where he constantly graced you with the treat of coffee and/or donuts. 

He likes to get you nice treats and sweets. He knows you don’t care for expensive gifts, especially since you work for a lot of nonprofits.

As for PDA on a scale, I will give you a 7.5/10. A solid 2.5 for physical affection such as hand holding, forehead kisses, whispering in each other's ears, and being a little too close to each other but not so close that you freak out everyone else around you.

As for that leftover 5 on the scale, holy shit do you guys never shut up. The constant flirting is where most of this score comes from. Saying embarrassing and inappropriate shit anywhere and everywhere is common with you. You tease each other relentlessly and enjoy seeing the other squirm. It can be quite uncomfortable for others around you, but you tend to keep the more spicy comments quieter, which leads to all of your odd whisperings.

You sort of live with him…? You guys are most often at his place, but you did decide to keep your own just because you wanted something that you paid for and could afford unlike his gigantic fucking manor.

Bruce cares for you deeply and understands why you want to keep your independence and have at least something of your own, especially considering that you guys work together often.

You are close with all of his family, including each kid he adopts, takes in, or has under his proverbial wing. In fact, you kind of think they prefer you over him, or at the very least Jason definitely does. 

It might also be common sense now that Alfred also likes you more than Bruce because, in your guys' relationship, you have all of the brain cells and are logical. 

You both can be impulsive and rude. You both can come across as very blunt and private people. You work well together despite everything.

You were very glad in the end that you both found someone so supportive and understanding. 

You both were also glad that you had the guts to kiss him because, honestly, he was never going to make the first move without it being an epic disaster.

Dick Grayson

Yay! Okay, this guy and you wow. May I just say couple goals here. Like yes, wonderful, perfect together.

Will you go off on someone for hurting his feelings? Count on it. Whether it is physically fighting or verbally berating someone, you also support everyone’s favorite Blue Bird.

Cute nicknames? Yes, as I stated previously, Blue-Bird, you know because he had been Robin and then he became Nightwing, and Nightwing’s suit is black and blue. Also, his eyes are blue and they look so pretty you could stare at them all day. Also, often used but none as creative as Blue-Bird, sweetheart, darling, cutey, and love.

His pet names for you, are Darling, beautiful, sweetie, bundle of too much adorableness, most wonderful human being to ever exist, my reason for getting out of bed every morning, and love. It is obviously a wonderful mixture of names, and yes, sometimes you do worry about him.

I mean how could you not, you were there since he became Robin, you comforted him through every phase, from being a rebellious teen by denouncing Bruce, becoming Nightwing, forming his own group of heroes, and making the obvious mistake of wearing tights as a part of his costume (that one was particularly hard for you).

I will now rate your PDA, congrats you have received a 6/10. You guys like to give small face kisses (forehead, top of the head, cheek, nose, temple, etc.), you guys give each other small pecks on occasion, and always say ‘I love you’ when one of you has to leave. You hold each other's hands a lot. You guys are very sweet and very wholesome. The only time you aren’t is when you get reunited after a long time (2+ weeks) or a life-threatening thing happens (which is pretty often, I’m not going to lie). 

When you reunite do you share that time slowed down and you are running to each other with the wind in your hair moment before frantically grasping one another to share a passionate kiss. 

Sometimes he will tickle you and pick you up just to spin with you. This happens quite a lot and the two of you often have tickle fights.

You get along with his family, but you have no trouble standing up to them for him. You will fist fight with Jason and tell Tim to ‘shut up and go to sleep’. If Damian starts talking crap you won’t physically hit the child, but you will steal away his pets with treats, which annoys him because food > him.

You will scream at Bruce if necessary. Dick and his adoptive siblings will have to physically pick you up to get you away from the situation.

You guys never fight, except when you eat the last of each other’s ice cream. 

Jeez, you two are so cute together.

Jason Todd

You met early on but got together a few years after his death.

He used to annoy the shit out of you, but the events involving the Joker led you both in the same direction.

You both have a better understanding of each other than anyone else. You are field partners and the only real anti-heroes of Gotham.

You were quick to share an apartment once you both learned each other’s civilian names.

It is easier than you both expected to fall into a rhythm, which only made it easier to go from something platonic to something romantically domestic.

You never seemed to get in each other's way and could somehow calm the other down when the world became a little too quiet or loud. You both rarely slept in the separate beds you had brought and maneuvered into the one bedroom. In fact, neither of you really slept on a bed. 

Most nights you stayed up as late as you could and either returned home and passed out on the couch or watched tv till 3 am, cuddling, and passed out on the couch.

You guys are a little different than others. PDA is more of healthy ways to deal with trauma mixed with a little codependency (but nothing terrible, sometimes shit just gets hard for you both and you have some really off days). Hand holding, back rubs, hugs, and playing with each other's hair and hands are just ways to calm each other.

But back to PDA. Yes. 9/10. You will both totally make out in front of other people spontaneously without a care in the world. He tends to initiate it, but you certainly never have an issue with it.

After all of the shit you two have been through you don’t really care about other people’s comfort around you because you feel safe with each other and are each other's security blankets.

Pet names are definitely common. It is probably the most annoying thing he does when you work together fighting crime. You always hated how he was so arrogant and acted childish when he was Robin. Now he just calls you pet names and flirts ceaselessly with you while you fight together. He will call you sweetheart, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, love, my love, love of my life, and more when you are in the field. He calls you them outside of your night shift too, but that does not annoy you at all. 

You tend to use many of the back, if not all of them, because he means just as much to you. 

He always makes the most adorable face when you cradle his head and call him beautiful. Like this is the softest he will ever be with someone else and he just looks so small and cute and in need of a hug.

If he annoys you, expect gifts in the form of food and drinks. If you annoy him, expect to give him extra hugs and books. 

Yes, you read together, cuddling. Typically different books, but he acts as your personal heater and you love it.

Coffee shop dates, take-out-stay-in dates, and video game dates are to be expected. Also, pastries on top of buildings in the middle of the night are a great pastime.

Also, one last thing, just to mention, you are the only one allowed to use or even touch his guns.

Martian Manhunter

Telepathically communicating, yayyyyyyyy! Okay maybe too soon with that one. But really, expect to be snorting in a silent room as everyone looks at you like you're crazy except for him because he’s smiling fondly at your reaction. 

You two are very sweet together. You help the Justice League with PR stuff, so you talk with the group of heroes all the time.

You often work with the big names and more controversial people in the League, but you work with everyone when you need to.

Also, J’onn can fly so expect to be carried in his arms all the time. He won’t even think about it twice because why would he take you somewhere in a car when he can literally swoop you off your feet bridal style and fly off as you look up at him in complete adoration.

For the moment you’ve all been waiting for, PDA rating. I would say 3/10 in public and 6/10 in private. By that I mean outside world public and the justice hall, mount olympus, etc. as private. In your guy’s place he’s just a cuddle bug or a second cat because yes he bought you a cat for one of your anniversaries.

He cooks you dinner. You join him often, but like he loves to cook you dinner. You think it is really sweet, but he also loves to learn different earthly activities. That and M’gann sends him recipes she thinks you’ll like (and you always love them).

You once made him chocolate cake by the way and now he has a new favorite thing. He loves it and didn’t stop talking about it for months. 

He likes to hold your hands a lot. Sometimes when one of you is stressed the other reaches out in hopes of grounding them before they overthink. It’s very sweet and you both love the gesture.

You sort of also took M’gann under your wing when she first arrived and it melted yours and J’onn’s hearts when she first called you her aunt/uncle. At this point you're like the mom of the YJ and the go to friend for the league. It’s all very sweet but sometimes J’onn feels like the League is hogging you and ‘has to’ drag you away from everyone quite literally, which goes a little something like this:

“Oh, but J’onn, I was having a lovely conversation with Bruce.” “Oh, I’m very sorry, Y/n, but we really have to go,” as he starts to pull you out of the room. “Alright, sorry Bruce we can talk, more some other time?” Once you both make it out of the room you release a breath, “Dinner?” “Yes.” “Great because I’m hungry and Bruce was gnawing my ear off.” After that you both just laugh.

Dinner goes great by the way and you share chocolate cake at the end before going home to cuddle with your cat and watch baking and cooking shows.

Wally West

Just to get it out there, you show your guys affection through food and physical touch 

You make Wally whatever you can cook and make a lot of it for his boosted metabolism. You also order extra pizza for him.

He tries to bake you your favorite desserts but sometimes lacks the patience and other times he eats half of it.

He typically just always buys you your favorite snacks and desserts. Even then he always ‘sneaks’ a bite.

Your PDA is surprisingly low, but as he matures it definitely increases. Like Dick had told you all those years ago it took a while to get used to Wally eating.

I would rate you a 2/10 at the beginning of your relationship and an 8/10 when at your best. (basically Young Justice S1 Wally compared to S2)

You are always touching each other. I don’t mean in an inappropriate way, but considering it is Wally that isn’t unheard of, just not often done in public.

On top of that, he will carry you everywhere, superspeed, normal speed it does not matter. Hand holding always, hugging always. He just wants physical contact. And piggy backs.

But like also, his pickup lines. I repeat his pickup lines. They are so cheesy and corny and you find them endearing somehow. I mean I do too, he is a sweetheart so yeah.

He treats you so well too. Your well-being matters so much to him and if you need something, he will be there in like 3 seconds regardless of where he is.

Nicknames should be expected: whatever you do, whatever you like he finds a way to make it a nickname. He does use babe a lot, but it feels a little basic so he comes up with new one's all the time. Sometimes they stick and other times you choke on air, but the scientific method says that you will fail and retry so it doesn’t phase him.

For the record though, he is Wally so a lot of his nicknames are food based: honey, cupcake, sugar cube, sweet potato, and more.

If you nerd out with him he will never, I repeat, never let you go. 

Also if you wear his merch he will be all over you. Depending on the situation and the place it might get a little spicy, but in most cases he will wrap his arms around your middle and just hold you tightly as he falls back into a chair or couch or something. He will not let you go and will nuzzle his face into your neck for hours. For someone that is so fast and gets bored so easily, he will never want any of this to end. 

Clark Kent

Yeah, you know. You knew. You were well aware of who he was. One single pair of glasses did not fool you. I mean, you didn’t say anything until like the seventh date, but you knew.

Yay, lucky you are normal, in fact, you do not play hero in your free time, but you do have some abilities.

You blame the particle accelerator explosion that occurred in your last home for your abilities. But they were easy to hide and really helped with your job.

You are a psychologist/part-time therapist. You met Clark through an interview you did about the effects of the most recent attack in Metropolis on the citizens' mental health. You had to fight for this article to even exist, but you did so because you could feel the fear that radiated throughout it. 

You did everything you could to provide as much help and information as you could on the topic. Clark had been the photographer for the interview and you both immediately hit it off.

He asked you out to dinner when you stopped by his office to discuss doing another article. Clark said that to celebrate the occasion he could take you out if you wanted.

You said yes because free dinner was nice and he seemed like a good guy, so you thought why the heck not?

Of course, the date went well and you highly enjoyed his company. He asked you out again and said yes.

On your third date, he had to leave early for whatever reason, and then a minute later Superman flew by and started to stop a robbery a block away. Interested, you got as close as you could and were very shocked when you saw Superman’s face. 

You didn’t mention it, but he had the same aura with the slightest bit of guilt that you thought was likely toward leaving you mid-date.

Once he knew you knew he eased up a lot and told you all about his past and Krypton and his powers and his hero-ing. 

You guys have great communication, which is in part due to your empathic abilities. You can always tell when something bothers him and he is more than willing to talk through whatever troubles him. You do the same understanding that you both thrive off of honesty with each other.

Conversation always comes easy. 

Some activities you like to do together are going out for dinner, movie nights, baking, picnic dates, and annoying Bruce Wayne.

Your PDA scale would be like a 4/10 at most. You are very sweet with each other, but sometimes you both find it odd being extra coupley with others around you. Since Clark has super hearing he can tell when people are uncomfortable and since you have your empath abilities you can feel it too. Other people’s moods also affect yours in general so the more people there are the more overwhelmed you feel so you try to avoid anything more than a quick peck on the cheek. 

However, it is still very obvious you two are together because you spend a lot of time with each other and go to lunch together basically every day.

Around the Justice League, you can be a little more open with your affections but you both still prefer privacy.

Nicknames: yes. There are some of the basics: darling, dear, love, etc. Clark particularly likes calling you my dear and you enjoy calling him sweetheart. Sometimes you joke around when he enters a room and you say, “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s my boyfriend, Clark Kent.”

[poppy-metal]

https://pin.it/3uN5FPAAM

https://pin.it/4AU0Gvdat

can’t even convey how badly i need to be this tashi’s personal assistant/friend/confidant/? that’s always with her but people just can’t figure out your relation to her besides the fact that she’s always smiling/keeled over laughing when the two of you are together. maybe your patrick’s new wife and it’s chalked up to just a proximity thing, it’s easier for her to like you than be annoyed at your presence because it’s not like you’re going anywhere, her being married to his best friend and all. there isn’t really an explanation for why people zoom in on your lockscreen and find that it’s a photo of her that hasn’t been posted publicly.

she’s never been a rude woman, but she was noticeably closed off, drawing firm lines in what she was willing to talk about that never included her personal life. now she’s asking about people’s weekends, recounting her own with you and the plans the two of you have coming up, double + one-on-one dates that seem a little too romantic. maybe you’re the youngest of the 4, a nepo baby it girl with no set plans, no goals besides being hot and being a little chaotic. you manage to wrangle tashi into jewelry campaigns and get her to be the face of some clothing brand, keep her name alive and revive her career in a way entirely separate from tennis. let everyone know that you think she’s the most beautiful and deserving woman alive. you even convince her to take an extended vacation, a month just the 2 of you. you get caught one night after drinks, a blurry make out sold to tabloids. she plans to go scorched earth until she catches you smiling at the photo…decides it can’t be that bad.

i like imaging being her low stress private gf BUT if you wanted to make it angsty u could play up the fact that because you were born into money you’ve never really had to work for anything and don’t get that you will always be second to work in tashi’s life. it’s nothing personal, she’s just not the kind of girl to throw it all away for love. especially one that would bring questions and speculation and explanations to her family. maybe that pushes your own little insecurity button because no one’s ever wanted to- or HAD to hide you. leaves you feeling unimportant. like it all meant nothing, just a stop on the way to her. leads to the two of you butting heads one too many times, having a massive relationship ending fight. she makes it sound like she thinks so little of you, little rich girl that doesn’t know what real work is. doesn’t realize what it takes to run a family. HER family. she can’t believe how immature you are, liking tweets about “how historians will say you were good friends” (rip public likes), and with that you turn your heel, hellbent on making her feel just as shitty as she made you feel. and thus starts the PR war, taking digs and snippy comments at each other any chance you get. you call her a career obsessed psycho, she calls you a fame whore. you date the people you used to talk shit about with her. she sabotages brand deals. there’s a blurry paparazzi shot of her crying in the street comforted by art and clearly both unaware that they’re being photographed. you start partying harder to avoid the regret that’s creeping in. one night you happen to look up and see art standing there, making a quick appearance at some event neither of you could care less about. you and him had a great repartee before it all went down, he was a great sport about you getting his wife in bed and joined in a few times. for whatever reason you thought maybe that would keep going on, grinning and making your way over to him until you register how cold his eyes are, jaw set. one shake of his head is all it takes for you to leave the party in tears.

why did u stop there omg im invested,,,,,

these pictures of her.... tashi.....

i imagine you're someone she met naturally - maybe while she was getting coffee one day and a man was bothering you and she stepped in, it would be love at first sight essentially - for you, anyway - fluttering after her to ask if you can take her out, all hopeful. something about you intrigues tashi immediately - even when she purposely brings her hand up with her wedding band to push some of her hair back - she still agrees to a coffee date. maybe it'd be be nice to just talk to someone who isn't an assistant, or her husband, or a work associate -

neither of you expect how close you become. you're bubbly - someone tashi thinks she would have hated in high-school, seen as fake or whatever, but you're just.... like that. and you make her have fun when she's with you. when she comes over you make her these wild cocktails "saw this one on tiktok! look, its pink!!" and you make her dance with you to poppy music and it feels like those sleepovers she was always hearing about growing up, but never had time for. her life has always been about climbing to the top, working herself to the bone, and sure, thats not something you can relate to - but she appreciates the levity you bring to her life, regardless.

art notices how much lighter tashi is too, and a part of him is jealous, at first. tashi talks about you like you're a crush she has, like you're something special and that makes him feel.... something. but he doesn't have to feel in knots about it for long because its not long before tashi is inviting you to stay and their place - introducing you to her husband and her daughter - and art cant possibly be angry at someone who makes tashi smile like that.

although he does ask, later that night, when he and tashi are getting ready for bed - tashi had finally returned from setting you up in your own room - if tashi was into you. as a joke, mostly, but also not. and tashi had paused from fluffing her pillow and appeared to really think about it. "would it be a problem if i was?" is that she settles on. and art thinks about it. theres definitely something that gives him comfort that its not another man in his home that tashi has feelings for, even if that's misogynistic to think.

"i dont know." he says honesty. "would you leave me for her?"

and tashi laughs. no, she wouldn't. and if it did turn anything with you, she wouldn't exclude art. "i saw you check out her ass," tashi says, "and i saw her check out your dickprint. sweats, dear. we can all see."

and that's that conversation settled.

its not long after that that sex is introduced into your friendship. and for some time, its perfect. its easy - you go on these little dates and mini vacations and you stay over at her house more and more - in her and arts marriage bed, more and more - because art is an extension of tashi - you come to love him too, want him too, need him too.

but you were raised to have what you want when you want it. you get greedy. you want more of her time, their time - you start rolling her eyes when she tells you she cant come to see you because she has a dinner with art with these tennis executives and you start to zone out because you've never really understood sports and its become a sore spot. a way tashi and her husband connect, such a fundamental part of who they are and what they're built upon and you just..... dont get it. in the early days you liked to listen to her talk about it, but now you kind of hate it. it feels like a rival. a glaring reminder you're lesser than something and that's a feeling you dont like.

born rich and having people always falling over themselves to give you attention - tashi was like a breath of fresh air. she had as much money as you currently, but she wasn't born with it. she worked for it, and that made her have a realness to her you couldn't find in your real life. fake love, fake friendships, even your family is fucking fake - but tashi and art - they brought something tangible into your life, something that wasn't easy.

tashi treated you like a brat during sex - and she the tamer - and it opened your eyes to a whole new world. you loved working for her approval, because it could never be earned by throwing your money at her, it came from giving a part of yourself up and eventually that became too scary to deal with when you weren't sure if you were even permanent in her life.

tashi was never good with words and you lived for them and this eventually lead to your downfall - the breakup of the century - and its the worst heartbreak you've ever known because the only real and genuine thing in your life is gone, because she'd rather fuck a tennis racket for the rest of her life than truly build a life with you in it (at least that's how you see it)

and it hurts even worse because you lose art and lily too. lily who felt like a little niece to you. who always cheered when she saw you like you were someone cool just for existing. who you could watch all the barbie movies with and you didn't have to pretend like they weren't your favorite movies to watch.

and art.... who'd become a strange kind of friend... and boyfriend? over the years along with tashi. where tashi was ironclad art was mellow and soft and you could talk to him for hours about things you both were oddly passionate about. and he was a wonderful kisser. sex with him felt amazing. it was even better when it was all three of you, you didn't feel like some rich spoiled airhead between them, you felt like you were just a person that was well taken care of.

you dont handle the breakup well at all. tashi and art had always been more closed off than you - more quiet with their deep seeded feelings... while you were loud and screamed how upset you were from the top of your lungs. you were downright nasty about it to publicity.

no shade, full names said. trash talking boldly. calling tashi a tyrannical workaholic robot and how it was a nightmare to be her friend, and how you didn't know she was capable of warm feelings. you poked fun at art for being a lapdog and being walked like a pooch by his wife. (nevermind the fact you'd been the one to wear a collar in the bedroom)

its mean and childish and resentful and you're a bleeding wound and you wait for tashi's rebuttal. but whenever you're brought up, or something you said is brought to her attention, its met with cool dispassion. on both her and arts side. they skate over it, give a short and precise response thats somehow crueler than anything you could ever say in its simplicity, "if talking about me and my family is how she needs to heal, then she's more than welcome to it... what im focused on is..." and then she'd go into her next business venture with her husband.

it made your blood boil. it made you hurt even worse. it made you feel like you were nothing.

what you dont see is the dark circles under tashi's eyes every morning she has to brush concealer over. how sometimes the things you say sting so deep she throws her phone across the room and has to buy a new one. how very rarely she'll break down and let art hold her and she'll ask if she really is a cold unloving robot and art will tell her that shes not, that her love is different but its still real and genuine and he'll try to be a strong pillar for her but inside he wants to seek you out and find you, shake you and throttle you and tell you you're so fucking selfish and stupid because how could you not see tashi loved you? that he did too? how could you not feel it? how could you say the things you say about her, about him, when they'd let you into their bed and into their home and opened themselves up to you.

they weren't the most open people - and maybe that was something they needed to work on - but they'd been the most vulnerable they'd ever been with you. and you took their love and spit on it and said it wasn't shiny enough a rock for you.

it fucking sucked. he hated you for it. if he ever saw you in person he thought he might lose his temper.

you were starting to hate yourself too. why couldn't you be enough? why did you always want more? it definitely had nothing to do with growing up with no genuine love in your life, barely there parents, friends who only talked to you for your money, partners who always cheated on you once your sparkly quality wore off or someone even more sparkly came along. definitely had nothing to do with constantly being told you're vapid and artificial and have no substance to you and having the first people in your life treat you like you have value beyond your net worth - feel distant from you in a way you cant reach - is it any wonder you panicked?

perhaps you should have communicated better. perhaps you should have sat down and talked to them and asked how to be more a part of their life, perhaps you should have asked them to teach you more about tennis instead of growing resentful of it.

but those were things a well rounded mentally stable adult would do. of which, you are not.

at least they have eachother to fall back on.

maybe its time you got married too.

[holylulusworld]

I’m your daddy now (3) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader (plussized)

Characters: Ari Levinson

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, groping, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), some fluff

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories. 

Catch up here: TOL - I’m your daddy now (2)

Ari exhales sharply. He’s not amused by Lloyd’s behavior.

The mustache-wearing bastard is shamelessly groping your ass while purring dirty nothings in your ear. “Plump. Sweet. Begging for cream.”

“Lloyd!” You swat his hand away and straighten your skirt blouse. “We have company. You can’t do such a thing while people are around.” You pucker your lips before striding toward the door. “Remember, we have a business to do.”

Lloyd licks his lips. He watches you walk out of the room, groaning loudly. “A hell of a woman I got myself.”

“Congrats,” Ari rolls his eyes. He knows about Lloyd’s endless stream of women roaming his bedroom. “For how long?”

“I’m gonna marry that chubby bug,” Lloyd grins before he tugs at his pants. He’s got a raging hard-on thanks to the woman ruling his mind and office. – You. It’s even worse since he got a taste of you and your perfect cunt. “She’s perfection.” Lloyd grins as he sniffs at his fingers. “She’s got a cute little shit too. Gotta be a daddy for the poor boy. His old man is a deadbeat.”

“Perfection,” Ari doubts that Lloyd will keep his word and marry you, but he says nothing. He came here for a reason, not to fight with Lloyd. “You should be careful if children are involved.

“I told you,” Lloyd grits his teeth, “I’m going to be a daddy for the little shit. I consider renaming him. Lloyd Jr. would be so cute, don’t you think?” He nods to himself. “I only need to convince my sunshine.”

“Lloyd, I came here for a second time because you want to discuss the details of my request later. I assume you had your hands full with your assistant,” Ari crosses his arms over his wide chest. He quirks a brow and waits for Lloyd to grovel.

“What can I do for you, my sexy friend?” Lloyd chuckles. He just loves to toy with people. Even more, since he found you. “I thought everything got discussed last time. My sunshine and I will join one of the dance classes and check your girl out. Maybe she needs a little money for her studio.”

“Lloyd, this is different from the other girls I paid. I want her to be mine,” Ari hesitates to talk about his feelings to a man offering women to wealthy men. He doesn’t believe Lloyd understands the concept of love.

“Love sweet love,” Lloyd smiles dopily. “I’m telling you, spring let me lose my mind. If only she wasn’t wearing those tight pants when I met her. I wouldn’t be so into that slutty little cupcake I call my own.”

“You are disgusting,” Ari sneers at Lloyd’s behavior. “I’m talking about love, not your libido. You’re lucky if your assistant doesn’t cut your balls off in your sleep.”

“That’s actually a great idea,” you say while walking back inside the office. “I got coffee for you, Mr. Levinson, and a disgustingly sweet coffee monstrosity for you, boss.”

Lloyd dips his head to glance at Ari. “I love it when she calls me boss. Gets me rock-hard every time. You wouldn’t believe how much I’m struggling to not have my way with her right now.”

You place the coffee on the small coffee table. “Lloyd!” You tut and glare at him when he tries to grope your ass. “Christ, you’re unbelievable. We have a client here. He wants our help.”

“All work and no fun,” Lloyd glumly replies. He pouts while staring at your tits. You decided on a light summer dress with a high neckline to avoid catching Lloyd’s attention. No such luck. “I wonder if I can make you forget about business.”

“Boss, do your job,” you point your index finger at him. “I already got a child to take care of. I don’t need a second one.”

“I like that one,” Ari throws in. He slowly sips his coffee while watching you and Lloyd interact. “Can we get back to my problem now?”

You nod and turn to leave Lloyd and Ari to their business. You’re still not used to the kind of business you’re involved in since you accepted the job offer. Lloyd takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass.

“Lloyd!” You huff and stomp away. It’s not worth it to get mad at him. He’ll only get horny the more you yell at him. Lloyd is a kinky bastard after all. “I should cut his balls off one day. But not his cock. It’s the best part of him.”

“You forgot my mustache,” Lloyd calls after you. “You know you love it, sunshine.” He turns toward Ari. “She loves it.”

“So…” You watch Lloyd rummage around his office. He curses under his breath as he goes on his hands and knees to look for something under the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I dropped something important,” he stretches his arm to reach something under the couch. You step closer to get a better look at his ass. It’s not or never. Payback for all the groping.

Smirking you grab his ass with both hands, groping him roughly through his slacks. You have to admit, he’s got a nice ass.

“Sunshine,” he purrs. “We don’t have time to get down and dirty. I need you to help me with something.”

“I swear,” you slap his ass, “if you get your dick out again and call it a surprise, I’ll follow Ari’s suggestion and cut it off.”

Lloyd huffs as he slowly gets back up. He hastily stuffs something in his pocket before looking you up and down. “He said balls, not my dick,” Lloyd smirks when you take a step back. “I see you can’t keep your hands off my perfect ass, huh? Do you want to feel me up some more?”

“We wanted to talk about your client. You remember your client, Ari Levinson, right? You mentioned a dance class and today he talked about it again. What is your plan now?”

“We’ll attend his chosen girl’s dance class and will find out more about her. That woman tries to make my job harder. She’s not on social media and pays cash,” Lloyd pouts. “I thought this would be an easy job, but no, Ari doesn’t want me to threaten her business. It would’ve been so much easier if he just played the knight in shiny armor after manipulating her business.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“Romance is for losers, Y/N. I believe in horniness and my pussy-detector,” Lloyd points at his crotch. “If little Lloyd likes you, it’s true love.” He grins, proud of himself. “Come on, let’s get home. The little shit is waiting for his daddy to read him one of the new books I bought.”

“When did you have the time to buy a book?”

“It’s called online shopping,” he huffs. “I don’t have the time to waste my time in a dusty bookstore.”

You quirk a brow. After you let him do unspeakable things to you for the first time, Lloyd is unstoppable. He wanted you and your son to move in with him. Lloyd even hired an interior designer to turn two of his guestrooms into a bedroom and a playroom for your son.

If only you could believe him that he wants to be more than the guy stuffing your pussy.

“Fine,” you sigh, too tired to argue. “The babysitter wants to go home too. Let’s go. We still need to talk about Mr. Levinson and your plan.”

He wraps one arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. “Does going home include a little action for the tiger in my pants?”

“I thought it was a python?”

“Who cares?” He groans. “There’s a whole jungle in my pants and it all belongs to you, sunshine…”

“…and then the little ant kicked the evil toad’s ass,” Lloyd closes the book, a big smirk on his face. “Son, how did you like the book?”

“Cool,” your son gasps. He’s still mesmerized by all the voices Lloyd imitated while reading the book he found online to your son. “I like the ant the most.”

“Tomorrow, we will read about his next adventure. I bet he’ll kick more ass.” Lloyd runs his hand over your son’s head, gently patting the little boy. “…can’t believe that deadbeat left a cute little shit like you.”

“Lloyd!” You tut. “You promised to stop calling my son little shit!”

“Our son,” he corrects. “How about you wait in our bedroom for me and the python fighting my pants? I got something to discuss with Lloyd Jr.”

You kiss your son’s forehead and wish him a good night. He refuses to sleep in your bedroom since he has his own room at Lloyd’s house. “We won’t rename my son. This is my last word.”

“If only…” Llyod grins. “Now…go to bed mommy. We men need to talk about something…”

You reluctantly leave the room, looking over your shoulder before you reach the door. “No swear words, Lloyd.”

“I wouldn’t dream of swearing next to our baby boy.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I love you too, sugar cake,” he grins. “I’ll be right with you.”

The moment you are out of the room Lloyd gets something out of his pocket. He shows it to your son, smirking. “What do you say, little shit? Will she like the ring?”

Tags in reblog.

[cormorant-red]

I played 999 recently at @xivu-arath's recommendation, and I had so much fun that (inspired by that one polygon video) I illustrated my liveblog about it!

If you haven't played 999 and you are even a little bit intrigued by a puzzle/mystery visual novel with multiple timelines that all guide you towards wild plot twists...probably don't read the text! 999 is the kind of story that is best experienced with no knowledge besides the basic premise.

Transcript below the cut:

Cormorant: characters in this game really just say shit like "have you heard the story about the crystallization of glycerin?"

as a matter of fact i haven't, june, please enlighten me

Storm: "I know we're stuck in a freezer but. let's talk about weird mythical science!"

Cormorant: it's also killing me that junpei is dressed like marty mcfly and isn't sharing any of his jackets

-----

Cormorant: this game is leading me to arrive at mathematical concepts on my own. what the heck

Storm: kshgushhsg

I take it you're having a good time then

Cormorant: trying to check lotus's work and it turns out that no matter what group i arrange to take through a door, the people left behind will always have the same digital root

so to get through door 7 with snake missing, i could either send a group with sum 16 (junpei, ace, clover, and june) or with sum 25 (clover, june, seven, and lotus), but it doesn't matter because the remainder always have root 9 and can't get through doors 3 or 8! wild!

Storm: yeah the numbers and which doors end up barred to you is so cleverly deliberate

-----

Cormorant: i'm glad i finally checked what novel mode meant, because this is way more fun

Santa cocked his head to one side, like an inquisitive bird, and looked at them.

After several long moments, during which it became apparent that Santa had no idea what the cards meant, June took pity on him.

i'll have to go back and redo the beginning after i get to the first ending

Storm: oh yeah! as I recall that was done differently when it was originally a dual screen game... but it's much better when in novel style. gimme all the descriptions

-----

Cormorant: I had a long day of sitting though presentations and so I entertained myself by calculating digital roots

I discovered that adding 9 or any multiple of 9 to a number has no effect on the digital root, which is awfully interesting bc I got to the part where snake gets killed. Assuming door 3 was opened with 12 and not 21, the options are 7+3 (motive?), 6+4 (they’d both have to be REALLY good actors), or 9+1. And if bracelets work without a body attached, and if ace picked it up in door 5…

That would be a really useful tool to get around the 3-person minimum without altering the digital root

I’m also very intrigued by the theory that zero is also in the game but I don’t know what to do with that yet

Storm: forlornly having to keep myself from saying literally anything

Cormorant: Understandable, please don’t give me any hints! I’m just calling shots for the joy of being wrong

-----

Cormorant: and how do you know that, my traitorous friend?

Santa: “The RED doesn’t need a person, you know.”

Santa: “All I need is the bracelet.”

-----

Cormorant: y’know what i think he’s bluffing. he does need June specifically and that’s why he refused to consider leaving her when they first found door 9. if all he needed was a hostage, he could have grabbed junpei and forced ace to come along, and then he would be dealing with two people under duress instead of three

i peeked at a guide and apparently i found the ending adjacent to the true ending(?) first, oh well. time to see the others!

santa: i said i don't want to leave seven alone

me: bud you can't do a heroic sacrifice too, it'll mess up all the math

reader, he was not doing a heroic sacrifice

-----

Storm: got any character opinions or theories to share so far?

Cormorant: hmm I’ve got soft spots for santa and lotus maybe just because they were in the first group I went with. I like that the game makes a point of showing that lotus is quick with the math/technical knowledge. I warmed up to clover and seven more than I expected to! I have no evidence to mistrust ace….but I don’t trust him

Snake died before I before I could say two words to him

Or…didn’t. Forgot clover said he didn’t

I got info about the previous experiments from clover and I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?

Again no evidence i just wonder where the pseudoscience is going

Storm: santa was so my type as soon as I started playing that I just picked all rooms with him on my first run skugrhsghu

Cormorant: AHAHA that makes me feel better about going “yeahhh door 4 I like the cut of this guy’s jib”

-----

Cormorant: “the bracelet comes off when your heart rate reaches zero” interesting then that we’ve brought up cryostasis

-----

Cormorant: i simply don't trust him not to have a spare bracelet in his pocket!!!

They climbed into the elevator and Junpei listened to it creak and rattle its way to the bottom deck. Only Junpei, Ace, and Lotus were left.

As the elevator rumbled out of sight, Ace spoke.

Ace: “Lotus, would you be so kind as to go with me?”

Cormorant: “bad end” YEAH I’LL SAY

Storm: lkksghr yeah there's a few of those!

Cormorant: santa was really quick to declare that he, june, and seven needed to go with clover. waht's his game

june and ace could have done it just as easily

Storm: they could have! good catch

maybe he just thinks seven is cooler than ace,

Cormorant: i'm imagining clover taking all her grisly trophies to the door only to find it already engaged, because lotus needed no persuading,

and regarding the true ending requirements, it's also funny that santa's like "i hate this bookmark! get it out of my sight!" and this is a huge help in junpei befriending the girl who's otherwise about to snap

Storm: load bearing bookmark

Cormorant: good thing you threw that tantrum bud or you would have been killed with an axe

-----

Cormorant: in my suspicions i forgot a critical detail, which is that he didn't actually go into the door with the body this time

of course seven has been propping doors open, so it really could have been anybody

-----

Cormorant: "where have these 16 boys and girls disappeared to?" eight for each game and then an experimenter? again with the idea that zero might be in the game...

-----

Cormorant: bad endings complete! on to the normal ending, which hopefully has less of junpei getting stabbed to death

puzzling over who could have done all those murders, especially in the sub ending...or did everyone get killed? clover thinks that snake's death was faked. or did snake do all the murders, since he was the only one unaccounted for?...and then i remember what kind of game i'm playing. can't discount the ice mummy as a suspect.

Storm: you truly cannot ignore the possibility of the ice mummy

-----

Cormorant: ah no, so santa's sister was the kid that died...

i can't figure out the connection between events! why did the last games have the veneer of a science experiment, while this one has no context given? why was it all kids last time, and a random mix of ages this time, with some repeat subjects?

-----

Cormorant: called it!!!!

Junpei: “Ace, Guy X, and the 9th Man’s bracelet.”

Junpei: “That was all you needed to open door [3].”

Cormorant: called it before i even got to an ending ehehe

what i’ve been saying!!

Ace: “(9) is a potent ally in the Nonary Game.”

Ace: “Adding (9) to any set of numbers won’t alter the digital root.”

Ace: “As you can see, (9) is a very useful number here.”

Ace: “With it, one can go anywhere, with anyone.”

Ace: “It is, I suppose you could say, a game changer.”

-----

Cormorant: okay, normal ending finished! junpei did not get stabbed but we also didn’t resolve much…I’m now thinking that ace with his pocket drugs could have easily played dead in the sub ending

glad to see that snake is okay and hopefully can stay okay in the true ending. where did clover get that riddle, and will she still have it?

0=6. how much do I read into this

still don’t understand how we get from here to santa hostage situation. he’s been so consistent about not even considering betraying or abandoning people, so either he’s a better actor than ace…or it’s staged. are he and june in cahoots

Storm: augh so close now!! soon I can actually say things

-----

Cormorant: O FUCK

Seven: “Santa’s always in the room with her. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

Snake: “Yes, that’s right.”

Clover: “What about it…?”

Snake: “That’s quite simple, really.”

Snake: “You told me that the first time you came to this room…”

Snake: “…Santa was the first to refuse to leave June behind.”

Snake: “Now, doesn’t that beg the question “why?” Why would Santa do such a thing?”

Snake: “The answer is easy.”

Storm: B)

Cormorant: i've been thinking of them as a pair because it makes the math easier! if you've got 3 + 6 + 8, just cross out the ones that make 9 and don't even bother with the addition, your root is 8

Storm: B) B) B)

Cormorant: but god!! they are a pair, do not separate (or the jig is up)

Storm: they hid it soooo well

-----

Cormorant: was wondering when we would see the last cradle guy and oh duh, he was guy X

i did think it was odd that santa phrased it as "i need to leave two of you behind" rather than "i need three of you to come with me," but if he was responsible for everything (most things?), he knew that snake was there, and he was setting up a group that could follow him. excited to see where this is going!

[dreamy sigh] this game is so elegant. what a little puzzle box

Storm: yeah it is, it's just so wonderfully crafted. so little is wasted!

-----

Cormorant: oh boy [akane vision label]

"through the morphic fieldset we were resonant, and we were as one" i don't think i've mentioned it before but i'm constantly pleasantly surprised by the narration in this game. it's not flashy but it's evocative in a way that's really working for me

Storm: this is where the port falls short a bit of the original version... the ds really worked well with this aspect

-----

Cormorant: the number of times i thought "this will be totally wrong but i'll say it to storm anyway"

hello??? [arrow pointing back to the message “I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?”]

Storm: Y E A H

Cormorant: laser-guided spitballing

-----

Cormorant: man i said that 4+6 would have to be really good actors if they were the ones that opened door 3...and while they didn't kill snake, i sure underestimated our queen of the stage akane kurashiki

the baseline was NOT where i thought it was

Storm: no one does it like her

[chvoswxtch]

conflict of interest

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: another run in with your ex creates a problem with frank. billy is eager to step in and let him handle it.

warnings: swearing, billy being an instigating lil shit (yes that needs a warning, the man is a walking red flag)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is just a short lil filler chapter to help with pacing as i try to map out the progression of where this is all gonna lead. i thought it would be a nice lil break from the heaviness so far, bc frankie desperately needs to have a good time. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

The clearing of someone’s throat momentarily broke your concentration, but you didn’t glance up from your computer screen, fingers still furiously typing away as you tried not to lose the creative flow that was pouring out of you.

“Yeah?”

You were so focused on finishing up your sentence that you almost didn’t hear the airy sigh laced with slight annoyance that preceded a voice you had been trying to forget about since last week.

“Do you always show your visitors this much undivided attention?”

All at once your assault on your keyboard halted, and you lifted your gaze to look just over your computer screen to confirm that the voice matched the intruder you thought it was.

Steven.

You didn’t even bother to hide your own irritation at his unwelcome presence, glaring at him silently for a full thirty seconds before returning your attention to your article.

“What do you want?”

Hearing him sigh again was like hearing metal nails screeching across a chalkboard.

“I wanted to follow up with you about the article. I haven’t seen anything yet-”

“I handed it off to the original journalist.”

“What? Why?”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh of indignation, you made a show of pulling your hands away from your keyboard, looking up at Steven with your full, undivided, very thin strand of patience laced through your fiery attention.

“Conflict of interest.”

There was a mixture of disappointment and confusion etched clearly onto his features. He wasn’t used to not getting his way, or you being so cold with him, and clearly it was getting to him. The thought of causing him any kind of distress made you want to smile, but you did your best to keep it off your lips, knowing he would take it as an indication you enjoyed his presence. 

“Now, if you don’t mind-”

“Can we just talk?”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in…years. I think there’s definitely some things for us to catch up on.”

Eight. It had been almost eight years since you last saw him. He couldn’t even fucking remember how long it had been. The overconfident smile on his lips only made you want to grab your computer off your desk and throw it directly at his face.

If only it was heavy enough to actually do some damage.

“I don’t want to catch up, Steven. I have work to do, and a deadline to meet. Now-”

“Babe, come on-”

A sharp knock to your door pulled both of your attentions over to that direction, and your brows furrowed slightly seeing another familiar pair of brown eyes staring directly at you.

Billy casually strolled into your office, giving Steven a severely unimpressed side eye that traveled up and down intentionally slowly, flickering his gaze back up as he arched one of his dark brows in question.

“Price.”

Steven stood up a little straighter when Billy surveyed him, giving him his own once over, although his seemed to be composed entirely with confusion.

“Russo.”

As they stood there locked in what seemed to be an immature staring contest, your eyes kept darting back and forth between them, eventually settling on Billy.

“What, do all you rich people just…know each other?”

Billy narrowed his eyes as he stared at Steven, and the second Steven broke his gaze to glance at you, Billy turned to face you, a wolfish grin splitting across his lips as his eyes glowed victoriously.

“Not exactly, doll. Us self mades tend to steer clear of the trust fund dependents.”

Billy flashed you a wink as he rounded your desk to come stand next to you, and you had to fight the laughter that threatened to spill noticing the look of pure offense on Steven’s face. You weren’t sure if Billy could sense that there was history between the two of you, or if he was just feeling extra flirty today, but when he bent down to press a kiss to the top of your head, it completely caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with heat as you glanced up at him, unable to stop the bashful smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. Billy gazed down at you with a smirk as he leaned against your desk, shamelessly letting his eyes wander over you.

“Well, don’t you look pretty. As usual.”

“How the hell do you know him?”

For a second you had almost forgotten that Steven was in the room, and as you turned your head to look at him, you noticed that his cheeks had turned slightly pink from the anger that was burning in his eyes. But before you had a chance to speak, Billy cut you to the chase.

“I own the company that’s keepin’ her safe. Speakin’ of-”

Billy glanced around your office curiously, as if he had noticed something was missing, and his eyes finally settled on yours once again as he lifted both of his brows.

“-where’s the big guy?”

“Doing a perimeter check, said he needed to stretch his legs. He should be back any second.”

“Who’s the big guy?”

Glancing over at Steven, your brows pulled together near the center of your forehead, staring over at him like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Frank.”

Steven’s features immediately dropped in dejection at the mention of Frank’s name, and he blinked a few times before his face contorted in skepticism.

“You call him the ‘big guy’?”

“You saw him.”

“He’s not that big.”

Billy chuckled darkly as Steven crossed his arms over his chest like a disobedient child, arching one of his dark brows in his direction as a devious smirk pulled across his mouth.

“Sounds like somethin’ someone small would say.” 

As if on cue, the door to your office suddenly slammed shut, the sound reverberating in your office like a clap of thunder through the clouds, and the amusement on your face immediately vanished seeing the pure, unbridled rage in Frank’s eyes. Steven’s face seemed to pale, noticing that Frank’s attention was solely on him, and in one swift motion, he was seeking shelter behind your desk. His proximity to you only seemed to piss Frank off further, and Billy wordlessly grabbed the back of your chair to pull you closer towards the side of your desk he was sitting on.

“The fuck is he doin’ here?”

“He’s apparently got a death wish, Frankie. Lucky for you, Price, Castle here is somethin’ of a genie.”

Billy’s voice was full of pure amusement as he glanced over at Steven, very clearly enjoying the fear he saw evidently in his eyes. You didn’t know if Frank had told him about your interview with Steven last week, or anything about the two of you in general, but if there is one thing you had learned about Billy, it was that he was an instigator.

Steven squared his shoulders as he laughed dryly, glancing between Frank and Billy with that same signature cocky smile he seemed to have been born with.

“You’re not gonna cause a scene in public, and certainly not with someone running for District Attorney.”

In that second, you almost felt for Steven, because he had gotten so comfortable with his status and his family name, that he truly believed he was untouchable.

But he didn’t know Billy and Frank.

“No?”

Billy cocked his head to the side slightly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he stared Steven down once again with a smirk still on his lips. Sneaking a glance over at Frank, you noticed that he hadn’t moved an inch. His stony features were set in a hardened expression, jaw tense with anticipation, and eyes glowing with wrath. His hands were clenched so hard at his sides, the skin over his knuckles matched the color of the bone beneath. His nostrils were flaring with vicious exhales, and his shirt looked like it might split open across his chest from how hard he was breathing.

But still he didn’t move.

It was like he was waiting for something…a signal or approval or…

Permission.

For the first time since Frank entered your office, you noticed that Billy’s hand was held out in his direction, in a gesture that looked like ‘stop’. Glancing between the look on Billy’s face and Frank’s position by the door, suddenly it all clicked.

Frank was waiting for Billy to let him loose.

That epiphany had a shiver cascading down your spine remembering the damage that Frank inflicted on the man that had grabbed you in the bar. As you went to stand to quickly try and diffuse the situation, Billy grabbed onto your shoulder with his other hand and pushed you back down into your seat, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to silently say stay. He was the only one in the room that didn’t look nervous, concerned, or angry. He was enjoying this. 

Billy’s touch on your shoulder didn’t go unnoticed by Steven, and his jealousy apparently outweighed his will to live as he twisted his face up in annoyance and took a step closer towards you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You didn’t need to look at Billy to know that he was smiling. You could hear it in his voice. Something in his eyes must have caught Steven’s attention though, because he quickly stopped his advancement, narrowing his eyes as he scoffed.

“And why’s that?”

“You see, I own the company that’s currently protectin’ her. Frank is her assigned bodyguard. This pretty girl right here was threatened by a terrorist group, one of which we don’t know who all the members are, could be anyone. Which makes you, Price, a suspect, a target, and fair game all in one. Up to you how you want this to go.”

Those words had all the color draining from Steven’s face. There was a tint of a warning in Billy’s tone that heavily suggested if Steven made the wrong choice, no one in this room would be held responsible for the aftermath. His blue eyes frantically darted between Billy and Frank before finally landing on you. You gave a subtle shake of your head, but you could see the arrogance in his eyes, and before anything stupid could come out of his mouth, you lightly nudged Billy’s hand away from your shoulder and placed yourself in between all of them like a protective barrier. 

“Look, Peter is the one working on your article. He’s right down the hall. You can go check with him on its progress. I think he actually wanted an original shot of you to go with the article, alright? Go talk to him.”

The defiance in his eyes as he looked directly over your head to stare between Billy and Frank made you want to scream. Part of you was ready to give up completely, wanting nothing more than to step aside and let him face the consequences of his unwavering narcissism. But an even bigger part of you was fed up with all the rampaging testosterone in the room, and your patience with the man in front of you had worn out eight years ago. 

It was steadily beginning to run out with the other two. 

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you laughed humorlessly as you turned around and pointed to all three of them.

“Alright. Out.”

Billy flashed you an expression of innocence as he held his hands up in surrender, a very clear look of ‘what did I do’ splayed across his features. You shook your head as you pointed an accusatory finger in his direction.

“You are not turning my office into a crime scene, William. And you-”

All of the anger radiating from Frank seemed to dissipate the second you pointed your finger and hardened gaze at him. The way his large brown eyes transitioned from being narrowed with murderous intent to wide with surprise and a little trepidation nearly made you lose focus for a second. You hated when he looked at you with those big, puppy dog eyes that made you forget why you were pissed at him in the first place. 

“You are not committing any crimes in my office, Castle. If you three want to keep your little pissing contest going, do it outside. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“But I didn’t-”

You angrily reached out to grab Steven by the collar in one hand to cut off his protests, your other hastily gripping onto Billy’s tie, using all your strength to drag them both towards the door where Frank was standing.

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear it. Out, all of you.”

Frank’s lips parted slightly in surprise as he stared at you in shock, glancing between Billy and Steven before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Out, Castle.”

As soon as you shoved all three of them outside your office, they started bickering amongst themselves. You slammed your door shut as hard as you could, stalking back over towards your desk with a huff as you sat down, harshly tapping at your keyboard to unlock your computer as you grumbled under your breath.

“Fucking men.”

Not even fifteen minutes later, there was a light tapping at your door, and you let out a heavy exhale of vexation.

“What.”

The sound of your door creaking open had your eyes snapping up, and you were met with two sets of very nervous looking brown eyes. You arched one of your brows quizzically as you stared over at them. Billy cleared his throat as he gestured behind himself.

“Price left.”

“And?”

Billy turned his attention to Frank, lifting his brows with an expression of incredulity, to which Frank slightly pursed his lips and shrugged. As the two of them silently communicated, you let out another heavy exhale.

“Is there a point to all this?”

Frank nudged Billy in the ribs, to which Billy furrowed his brows in an expression of discontent. Frank rolled his eyes as he pointed to Billy’s hand, and when Billy glanced down at it, he looked up at you with a charming smile and held up what looked to be a pizza box like it was a trophy.

“We brought lunch.”

Billy eyed you curiously when you finished off your slice of pizza, and when you shot him a glare, he simply chuckled as he looked over at Frank in amusement.

“You weren’t kiddin’. She is grumpy when she’s hungry.”

Billy’s words had your eyes widening, and you whipped your head around to face a very guilty looking Frank that had paused mid-bite. He quickly set his slice of pizza down and started to shake his head.

“I didn’t-”

“You asshole!”

Frank’s mouth hung open slightly as he furrowed his brows, glancing between you and Billy as he started to protest. 

“I didn’t say that-”

“Then what did you say?”

Billy snickered as he watched Frank stumble over his words, picking up another slice of pizza as he left his best friend to drown in the middle of your violent storm without offering a raft. Frank’s mouth opened and shut several times as you stared him down, his shoulders deflating as he sank back in his chair.

“Didn’t call ya grumpy. That was all Bill. How come you ain’t on his ass?”

“He didn’t call me grumpy behind my back.”

“Aw, for fucks sake.”

Frank crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slowly as he glared silently out the window. Glancing over at Billy out of the corner of your eye, he flashed you a wink when he caught your smile, and you couldn’t help but start to giggle. It really wasn’t fair how cute Frank looked when he pouted. It was also absolutely hilarious to see such a big and intimidating man pouting like a child in time out. As soon as the sound hit his ears, Frank swiftly turned his head in your direction, and the look of pure displeasure on his face had you and Billy both laughing uncontrollably.

“Fuck both of y’all.”

Frank reached over to grab the pizza box off your desk, lifting his legs up to place both of his worn boots over it as he finished off the slice he was working on.

“Y’all can get your own fuckin’ pizza next time.”

“Aww, come on Frank. Don’t be so…grumpy.”

Frank arched one of his dark brows and gave you a pointed look at the teasing tone that accompanied your smirk. Billy folded his arms behind his head, nodding his head over in Frank’s direction with a grin.

“Yeah, have another slice, Frankie. It’ll make ya feel better.”

Frank grumbled under his breath as he flipped both of you off, picking up another slice of pizza to shove into his mouth. 

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed

[newtthetranswriter]

Christmas Conflict Clean Up

Word count: 949

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

Summary: Taking care of him after the Christmas conflict.

Warnings: Talk of blood, concussions and other injuries, stabbing

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope that if you celebrate Christmas you had a good one yesterday, and if you don’t, I hope you still had an amazing day. Anyway, I wrote this picturing it happening obviously right after the fight in the church. I also picture it happening when they are in the last year of high school, so still teen but more like 18ish. Anyway, enjoy and remember to Hydrate Or Diedrate.

   It was about three in the morning when the knocking on my window finally woke me up. I was totally confused by this, like, who in their right mind is knocking on people’s windows at 3am the day after Christmas. As I went to the window, my question was answered, seeing my boyfriend standing outside, with what was very clearly a black eye and many other injuries to his handsome face. Realizing it was Takashi standing out there, I rushed to slide the window open and help him climb through the window.

   “I’m sorry to wake you up so early. I just didn’t want to wake Luna and Mana with my face so beat up.” Takashi explained as he gave a weak smile sitting on my bed.

   Ignoring his explanation as to why he was here, I went to work, looking for my first aid kit that I kept in my room for nights like this. Digging through my dresser drawer, I let out a quiet exclamation of victory, pulling out the box of supplies. Turning on my bedside lamp, I decide the best course of action would be to first clean up all the blood. “Sorry, but this is gonna sting.” I said, taking an antiseptic wipe to a large cut on his cheek. He flinched away from the wipe and in response I grabbed the back of his head to hold him still, not realizing that was also a bad idea.

   This time he jerked forward, nearly headbutting me in the process. “Shit that hurt.” Takashi mumbled out, trying to keep his voice down.

   Realizing with that kind of reaction, there had to be a wound on the back of his head, I turned his face away from me. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see any blood in his hair, but knowing there could still be something there, I carefully started moving his short hair out of my way. When I bumped a particular spot, he let out another quiet string of curses, signalling that I found the spit of concern. Looking closer at the spot, I could see a rather large bump that was already starting to turn purple. “Jesus, Takashi, what’d they hit you with a brick?” I asked, only slightly joking.

  “Close, a metal pipe.” Was his response as he tilted his head to look back at me. I held back a gasp, as I didn’t actually think whoever he got in a fight with this time would hit him with something. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just a bump and a bruise, nothing major.” He smirked, trying to make it sound not that bad.

  I resisted the urge to smack the back of his head. “Nothing major, really, Takashi. You could have a concussion, for god’s sake. Now sit still so I can clean up the rest of your face.” I snapped as I turned him back to facing me. “And don’t flinch, or I will make sure you leave here with a concussion.” I threatened, going back to wiping off his cuts.

  With that, he shut right up, knowing that if I had to I would really beat his ass for being an idiot. “What even were you idiots fighting about at Christmas?” I asked, hoping to get some answers on the citation, that lead to a bloody boyfriend knocking on my window at three o’clock.

  He paused, probably trying to figure out how to explain it in a way to make it sound justified. When he finally spoke, I could tell it was the unfiltered truth. “Takemitchy believed that Hakkai was going to kill his brother and was dead set on stopping him. He was right in the sense that Hakkai was there, but Yuzuha is the one who ultimately stabbed Taiju. Don’t worry, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it turned into an all out brawl in the church with Takemitchy, Chifuyu, Hakkai, and Me against Taiju and a couple of his Black dragon guys. Honestly, the only thing that saved our asses was Mikey and Draken showing up when they did.” He explained.

  I knew right away it was the truth, Hakkai was like the little brother Takashi never had, and I know he would do anything for him, even risk his life if he had too. I smiled as I wiped the last little bit of blood off his lower lip. “I’m glad everyone made it out okay then.” It’s all I could think to say. He returned the gentle smile. “Now please take a break from fighting until at least the new year, I don’t think your pretty face can take another beating so soon.” I said, earning a chuckle from him as I moved to the first aid kit back in its resting spot.

  When I turned around, Takashi had kicked off his shoes and thrown his Toman jacket over my desk chair, and made himself comfortable on my bed. Before I could say anything, he beat me to it. “You said it yourself, I could have a concussion from being hit with a metal pipe. I shouldn’t be driving in this condition. Now come lay down, we both know your parents are used to me coming over all beat up and spending the night.” He said, making valid points, patting the space next to him. I quickly lied down next to him, turning off the light. Before I could drift off to sleep, I heard one last thing from the lilac haired young man. “Thank you for always being here for me, even if it’s at such shitty hours” That was the last thing I heard before letting sleep take over.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

4. This is Hollywood

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch

It was the last day on set, and they were filming all the last-minute scenes, and touching up some stunts. That’s all that was on the schedule today. Which means I had nothing to do but sit and watch Cooper Howard be sexy.

The set bell rings and the buzz of people moving around begins again. I stand from my chair and slide next to Cooper as he reads over the very last rewrite. “Hi.” I smile at him.

Cooper nods and turns away, ignoring me completely. I felt a pain in my heart, “Cooper.” I move in front of him again, and he steps away. “What are you doing?” I ask in concern.

He lowers the script from his face, a glare in his eyes. “Trying to work, if you don’t mind.” I blink at him, he’s never once been so rude towards me. “I’m sorry?” “Go on. Be useful somewhere else.” I back away slowly from him, going back to my chair and sitting down. Embarrassment eating away at my core. Did I do something wrong?

Cooper continued to ignore me the rest of the day. He ditched lunch on set, wouldn’t speak to me at the crew meeting, and practically ran away when I tried to catch him when everyone was dismissed.

I catch him right when he is exiting his trailer. “Cooper. Hey, I’m sorry if I did anything to make you upset. I wish you would talk to me.” Cooper stares at me with dead eyes. “You want to talk?” I nod, “I would love to.” “Alright, let’s talk. This thing we have is over. We wrapped filming and I’m not too interested in keeping you leashed up anymore. So you’re free to do whatever the fuck it is you do.” He pushes past me.

I scoff, shock consumes me. “What? What the fuck?” “Wasn’t that hard to comprehend, honey.” His nicknames now have been laced with venom. “You said-“ “I said a lot of shit to get into your pants. Grow up, dollface. This is Hollywood. How else did you think you’d get to the top? Did you think I’d put my neck out for you for free? Get you cast in every film just out of the kindness of my heart? All you were was a good time.”

I stride up to him, slapping him across the face, “Fuck you, you mother fucker.” I spit in his face, tears flowing, a mixture of rage and despair seeping through. The crew now standing still as well watching the outburst. I back away from him quickly, running to my trailer and locking myself inside.

I knew it. I knew this was just a game. A time waster for him. How could I let myself fall so easily? I fall to the floor balling. I cradle myself as I choke on my sobs.

~

How long has it been since that happened? Weeks? Months? Who fucking knows at this point. It’s been long enough that the press tour is getting ready to begin and they’re requesting for my appearance.

“You have to go, you’re one of the leads,” Louis argues from the foot of my bed as I eat another scoop of ice cream. “No, I don’t.” I lick the spoon clean before grabbing the bottle of wine from my bedside table. Louis watches in disbelief as I turn the bottle up and down half. “Oh my god. You need some serious help.” I glare at him, my hair falling out of his bun as I shake my head at him. “You know what? If you’re going to be rude you can leave.”

“Oh, I’m going to be rude.” Louis flips the blanket off of me, revealing my two-day-old pajamas. He shakes his head, “this is a crime.”

He rips me from the bed and ushers me into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight. I’m sick of seeing you cry over a 50-year-old man. You’re in your fucking prime and you’re in here drowning yourself in wine like a depressed benzo wife. Scrub your ass, brush your teeth, and put some makeup up because tonight we are getting you out of this mess. I’m calling Heather and her boyfriend.”

I groan as he pushes me into the large bathroom. “I don’t want to!” “Well, you’re going to. You can still get drunk but you’re doing it in style and with some friends.”

I cry once more in the shower, holding my cheeks in sorrow. He really has done a number on me. I lived for him every day for months, and now without him, I feel no real reason to try the basic social appearances. Louis has been doing my shopping, no doubt the store clerk thinks he's an alcoholic.

I stare at myself in the mirror and sigh. The dark circles around my eyes, my chapped lips that I would bite as I paced around thinking about him, my cheeks pale and dry; I was truly a mess.

With the makeup, the dark circles were covered, and a tight dress hugged me nicely. The ice cream and wine diet was effective. Louis shoves a handbag in my arms and pulls me out the door.

"There she is!" Heather cheers as she pulls me into her arms. "I haven't seen you in FOREVER! Big movie star now, too good to hang out with us?" I smile at her words. It was nice to be around my old friends for a change. "No, I'm ready to throw it all away. I am so tired, and the press tour hasn't even started yet."

Her boyfriend reaches out, "Well, it surely is a pleasure to meet you. I was beginning to doubt Heather, but here you are." "Nice to meet you." Louis returns from the bar with a tray of drinks. "Where is Johnny?"

I furrow my brow, "Johnny who?" Just that moment, a body takes the seat next to me. "Nice to see you again, (Y/n)." I laugh loudly as I tackle him in a hug. "Oh my god! How long has it been?" He smiles, "A long time. So long I heard you don't partake in the devil's lettuce anymore, or the snow, or the magic mushrooms. What happened to my party girl?" I shrug, "I got famous." He tilts his head, "And you have it backward. You're supposed to be getting us the good shit with all your high connections." I laugh falling into him, downing a shot as I do. It was true that I was quite some trouble in school. I just knew how to have a great time. It wasn’t my fault that I was the life of the party. Johnny was the plug who was able to get anything we desired. The two of us were close for the longest time. Never made it official though. I guess I have a pattern of relationships under wraps.

Shot after shot, my vision struggled to stay focused. Johnny dances with me in the middle of the room. His hands pressed into my waist as we swayed. "I remember when we were in high school, I thought you were full of it." He spins me around, at arm's distance with a charming smile. He spins me in, dipping down to whisper in my ear, "Now look at you, the biggest fucking star in America." I turn to look at him, the alcohol fooling my thoughts. "And look at you, still as handsome as a movie star." False, but what else could I say? It was easy with Johnny. We had the history to back up the emotions. Something stable, someone who wouldn’t memorize all my inner thoughts and feelings. Someone who wouldn’t then use said feeling to their benefit.

He runs a finger down my cheek, just like he would. I close my eyes, the simple touch reminding me of his skin. "Want to come out and smoke with me?"

It started with a joint, then Heather and her boyfriend came outside with the small baggie filled with powder, and with the entire mixture inhabiting my body, I felt warm. I felt strangely happy. I laugh as we leave the club, all five of us loudly making our way across the street. Camera flashes catch my attention. "Ah, fuck. Here they come." Louis huffs. "Just keep moving. Let’s get (y/n) in the car.”

The paparazzi race across the street, blocking traffic as they call for me, snapping pictures left and right. "Smile for us!" "Are you celebrating?" "Who are your friends?" "Is that your man, (Y/n)?" Johnny cups my lower back and takes my arm assisting me into the car. He leans in the cab with a smile. "Take care, (Y/n)." He leans in kissing my cheek and backing away, the cameras capturing it all. The door closes and Louis is sat next to me with a smirk. "What?" He shakes his head, "He's hot as fuck." I feel the warmth spread to my face, my lips curling in a smile. "Yeah, he is."

~

The tabloids ran a story on her outing with some friends. "America's Sweetheart Has a Night on the Town." I felt my knee shake as I began the read the article. She was seen at some middle class bar with some friends. None I had ever heard of or seen. Especially the one with his hand around her. Seen drinking, and dancing the night away, a dazzling smile on her face. I look at one of the photos in more detail. Her smile is wide and her eyes are blown to the size of saucers. I shake my head, "Come on now, you're better than that, honey." I run my thumb over the curve of her cheek. She looked good, just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. When I broke her heart. When I shattered everything I desired. Our souls that once fed each other were now starving in separate rooms, locked away from each other.

"She's so pretty," Janey says as she peeks over his shoulder. I couldn't hide my smile. "You think so?" Janey nods with a large grin. "Can we play her record, Daddy? Please? I want to dance." I smile wasting no time placing the record in the player. Her sweet voice ripples through the house. Janey holds my hands as we sway to the angelic sound. If I close my eyes I can see her on stage performing for the world, but more importantly for herself. She was a true artist. She bled music. Singing every chance she got no matter where it was. That notepad went everywhere with her and whenever the muse hit the pages would rapidly flip and she would jot down whatever was leading her to compose.

That notebook…

The one I keep tucked neatly between two geographic books in my study. I would pull it out and read her thoughts whenever an ache pierced through my body. The burning want of her presence. I missed her.

The love song was one of the last she attempted to construct within the pages. A song about me.

~

It was a hot day, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend it than sitting next to the pool. "This is the nicest house I've ever been to." Heather squeals as she throws her bag down by the row of chairs. Louis wipes sunscreen on his face. He turns to me with a smile, "So, is the Hottie coming?" I smirk at him. I sip my drink as I lay in the sun. "The Hottie is already here, and is walking down the steps right now." Johnny comes down the stairs clad in swim trunks, and tanned abs lining his stomach. Louis grabs my arm for support, "He stayed here?" I tip my sunglasses looking at my friend. "A girl can have fun. It’s not like we’re strangers." Heather winks at me from the float in the water, "She sure can! I swear you haven't been this fun since senior year!"

The phone in the pool house rings and I groan, "No, no work calls today." Louis stands refusing my request and picking up the phone. "Hello?" Louis quickly begins to scribble things on the pad of paper. I toss my head back knowing it's going to take up my time. "Never a peaceful moment, huh?" Johnny takes a seat next to me in the chair a beer in one hand, and a lit joint in the other. I quickly snatch the rolled devil's cigarette and inhale. "You don't even know the half of it."

"Oh, yes she can make it." I look at Johnny with a flat expression, "See what I mean?" Louis sits back down in his chair, reading the notepad. "So, Thursday, you're filming an ad for Vault Tech, and then we're all going to be attending the wrap party!" The lot of them cheer. "A real wrap party?" Heather gasps.

Johnny smiles, running his finger over my shoulder. "I get to see you in action. I sure am a lucky, man." I smile but internally shutter at the words remembering Cooper's same words. I inhale again, waving him from my mind. "You sure are a lucky man," I smirk at him as I pass the joint over.

~

The screen lights up revealing our host. "Oh. Hello there. Yep, it’s me, Cooper Howard, star of stage and screen. But I’m not here today to talk to you about my latest picture. No, today I’m here to show you a vast and wonderful place, not made by God Almighty but by the working man. A veritable Camelot of the nuclear age. Now, how ’bout we turn on some lights." The large lights hum as they illuminate the vault. "There, that’s better. Now, I’m speaking to you from deep inside the fully livable Model 96JQ1164." Cooper travels down the vault's path. "And what a beaut she is." He knocks against the metal wall. "And what a song she sings. Now, that right there is Vault 4’s three-foot-thick lead casing. Strong enough to keep out the Rads and the Reds." He sends a wink and a smile.

“Now would you look at that?” Cooper walks over to a lineup of robots resembling America’s favorite little songbird. Her eyes open and she smiles gently at Cooper. “Good afternoon, Mr. Howard. How can I be of assistance?” Cooper turns back to the camera with a smile on his face. “These bots will be a helping hand in your very own vault. Each community will have access to 6 individual bots that can move throughout the vault at your request.”

The real-life (Y/n) steps into the frame with her award-winning smile. “That’s right! These bots are equipped with knowledge spreading from a culinary chef to a registered nurse. She’ll be a helping hand to any resident. Helpful, smart, and beautiful. Wouldn’t you say, Cooper?” He smiles at (Y/n). “Stunning.” He breathes out.

(Y/n) walks ahead of Cooper. "Follow me." They both enter the elevator. The scene changes to view the so-called neighborhood. "Now, this corridor here is Sycamore Street, where you’ll wave howdy to any one of your 200 neighbors on your way home for an enchanted evening with your loved ones." Cooper stops beside (y/n). He places a hand on her shoulder. "Look, there's the Hawthornes." Both Cooper and (Y/n) wave before entering the family’s living space. "Now, this isn’t just your average all-American family. No, Lloyd and Cassandra here are both scientists, specializing in the effects of radiation on human DNA." Cassandra nods, "That’s right. And we’ll be living and working right here in Vault 4, leading a community governed entirely by scientists." (Y/n) smiles at the woman, "Wait a second, did you say “living down here”?" She leans into Cooper's side, a worried look on her face, "There hasn’t been a nuclear incident, has there?" Cooper rests an arm around her in comfort.

Lloyd shakes his head, "Uh, no, not yet. But, our family and a group of 80 volunteers will be conducting a five-year trial of Vault 4. To demonstrate to the world that, no matter what comes our way, America will be ready." Cooper shakes his head, a proud smile on his face. "Five years. Well, I may play a hero in the movies, but… you all are heroes in real life." (Y/n) smiles brightly from his side. "And now you can be a hero, too. By purchasing a residence in a Vault-Tec vault today." Cooper nods, "Because if the worst should happen tomorrow, the world is gonna need Americans just like you to build a better day after."

"And cut." The bell rings and I peel myself away from Cooper in disgust. I can feel my anger bubbling. Even working together he refused to look my way, always looking directly behind me. I need a fucking bump.

I scoff as I exit the vault room and into the hall where Barb stands with her colleagues, wearing a shit-eating grin. "Hi, (Y/n)." She waves her fingers delicately at me. I push forward a smile as I pass her, "Hi, Barb, so nice to see you." I walk across the hall into the separate vault where Johnny stands taking a tour. "Impressed?" He looks at me with a grin. "This is so cool. Tell me I get a family and friends discount?" I poke his chest lightly, "You give me that little tube you got in your shirt pocket, and you can get whatever you want." He smirks, quickly passing the small glass tube. I use the small spoon to place it at my nose before sharply inhaling. I pucker my lips, "Ohh." I shake my head lightly, the waves crashing. The numb wash of confidence and carelessness overtakes me. I giggle as I look at Johnny. He laughs with me, taking the tube from my hands. His gaze drills into my eyes, "You're so fucking high." I cover my mouth, unable to stop my giggles. "You think the camera could tell?" "I don't think so. You just seemed, extra happy." I wrap my arms around his neck, "How could I not be? I feel like a high schooler again.” He spins me, only for me to catch the tall figure in the door.

"Everything okay in here?" Cooper asks, an unreadable expression on his face. Johnny's hand remains on my waist; he nods, "All good, buddy." Cooper looks over Johnny, examining his every inch. With a grin on his face, Cooper extends a hand, “Cooper Howard.” Johnny shakes his hand, the two men bulking up towards each other, the beginnings of a dominance challenge. “Right, the cowboy. Johnny Bud.” Cooper raised a brow and hummed. “Can’t say I’m familiar. All the same, nice to meet you.” Cooper turns to bare onto my orbs, finally looking at me, into me. I don’t think he was fond of what he found. He nods his head. Not even a word was spoken to me. He exits the room with one final glance, a chuckle leaving his lips.

Fucking asshole.

~

That’s what she chooses to associate herself with. Some small town drug dealer from her hometown? I could see it in her eyes. She’s flying as high as a kite in the clouds. I can smell her on my suit. I bring the sleeve to my nose, taking a short inhale. It’s intoxicating. My restraints barely held together at the sight of her. I was begging god for just a second of time alone with her. Then I saw him trailing behind her, hand on her back as he looked at everything in amazement. Amateur. Why was he even here? Wasn’t this a closed set? Shows how professional Vault Tech really is. They’d let just anyone walk in here. I bet they don’t even have someone on her security. She could get hurt. I wouldn’t let that happen. Damned all I’d jump off a bridge for her and die happy with the memory of her kiss.

Barb looks in my direction, her eyes digging for some type of evidence of betrayal. She straightens my tie, “having a good time?” I shrug, “Nothing against these colleagues of yours, but what do you say we go home?” I need to get away from her as soon as possible. I can feel the desire building, and I as a man can only withstand so much.

“There is a wrap party.” I furrow my brows, “What, a… a wrap party? For this?” Unimpressed I roll my eyes. I didn’t want to spend another minute with these assholes. I sigh, “We go for a couple of hours, we shake a few hands-,” “It’s at our house.” I stare at her, behind her (y/n) walks across the hall, arm in arm with drug dealer John. Fury ignited, but I pushed it down. Surly she wasn’t going to come to the house. Barb would be livid. I would be rid of my temptation soon. I press a fake smile, “The things I’m willing to do for you.”

[only-luce-the-goose]

More than Nougat

Synopsis: You taught Jack about hickies and now he’s obsessed

Warnings: none really, just a whole lotta fluff

Nothing! There was absolutely nothing! No beer, no bacon, no nothing! And who would’ve eaten all the food and not replace it? The two black holes for humans you live with. The Winchesters, those boys with their bottomless stomachs drove you crazy sometimes. You’re half tempted to throw Jack into the accusation but he’s still figuring the foods he likes.

“I’m going on a supply run!” You shout through the halls. All you hear is a couple grunts of acknowledgement, until a voice behind you says “can I come?” You nearly jump out of your skin, not expecting to see Jack behind you. “You scared the shit outta be dude, but yeah, of course you can come” you answered him. “Sorry for scaring you y/n” he apologises.

You chuckle his apology off, trying not to let your heart run wild. Even though Jack was only, technically, a few years old, he resembled someone of your own age. This very quickly led you to falling for him, his newborn innocence, childish humour and clinginess (you loved though, let’s be real).

“Alrighty Jack, let’s go” you say as you lead him up the stairs, to the garage. You unlock your ‘64 Pontiac and hope in, turning on some background music before peeling out of the bunker.

“Can we have a movie night tonight, y/n?” The nephilim asks. “Absolutely” you reply “what do you wanna watch?” He sits there and has a hard think about it, “I don’t know, I’ll look up movies when we get to the bunker. Can we get snacks now though?” He asks. You nod your head as you park. You pull out a trolley and give it to Jack to push, while you wander around and get enough food to supposedly last a few weeks (you knew better than the expect it would last a few days).

Jack absolutely piles the junk food into the trolley, which gives you a good laugh, still enamoured with his childishness. He gives you a massive grin and keeps walking, always making sure to look behind him and make sure you’re still there. You head to the checkout and pay for the mountain of food you bought, Jack standing shoulder to shoulder with you the entire time, watching you interact with the register guy. Jack means his head on your shoulder after you pay and keep making small talk, even though you’ve finished all you need to do. Jack links his hand to yours to try and push his point, he doesn’t wanna be near anyone but you anymore.

After you get home, Jack wizzes off to the computer to search for a movie while you pack away the food, keeping out the snack for movie night. Jack comes bounding in a few minutes later, a dvd in hand, and says “I wanna watch this one” he hold it up for you to see. You look at him and asks if he’s sure, “I’ve never seen it so I really wanna try” he replies. You hold on your giggles as you make your way towards the dean-cave (you think it’s a silly name but whatever).

You press play on the movie as you and Jack get comfortable next to each other on the couch, sitting leg to leg so you can both reach the junk food. Sandy and Danny start singing on your tv screen and it has Jack laughing, you don’t know what at, but you don’t care. Getting to see Jack make you laugh makes your day a little brighter.

You get to the point in the movie when Rizzo appears with hickies from Kenickie. “Y/n?” Jack gets your attention as he taps your shoulder. You pause the movie as you turn to Jack, “what’s wrong?” Jack points at Rizzo and says “what’s wrong with her neck, who has hands small enough to punch her like that?” He ponders “or did she get bitten my a vampire? Some vampire bites look like that, don’t they?”

Jack looks at you concerned as you bust out laughing. “Oh Jack, those are called hickies” you tell him. He raises his eyebrow, almost like he want to ask something, so you continue. “When two people like each other a lot, some like marking their partner. It’s kind of like a possession thing” you can see the cogs turning in his head, trying to make sense of what you said.

“I like you a lot, and I don’t like when you talk to people that aren’t me, so do I put hickies on you?” Jack admits, a big grin adorning his plush lips. You feel a bit conflicted, maybe you didn’t make it clear enough that it was an ‘in love’ type of like, not a ‘just friends’ type of like and so you told him. “I don’t think you get it, it’s for people who love each other. Like want to get married and have a family, kind of love. Not the kind of love you have for friends”

His grin doesn’t falter, “I know what you meant, y/n, and I mean what I said. I like you a lot, the ‘love’ type of like. I wanna hold your hand, and kiss you, and I want you to give me hickies and I want to give you some too” if you were a cartoon, you knew you’d have hearts in your eyes and heart would be thumping out of your chest at Jacks brazen confession.

He watches you patiently as you lean over and peck his lips, testing to water. “I like you a lot too, Jack” you say as you make deep eye contact. Jack kisses you back grinning. “Can you give me a hickie y/n?” He asks shyly. “It’s kind of something you have to build up to. You have to start with marking out before you move to hickies” Jack smashes his lips onto yours as soon as you finish your sentence.

After showing Jack how to make out, you pull away which causes a small whine to rise from Jacks throat. “I’m gonna give you a hickie now, ok?” You say as Jack vigorously nods his head. You got back to kissing his lips, then start trailing them towards his neck. You spend a couple seconds looking around for his weak spot, knowing you’ve found it when he moans and bursts a light bulb.

You look up and see his eyes glowing gold “sorry” he says sheepishly. You kiss his lips, then go back to his neck. You suck and nip at the supple skin, causing all sorts of noises to come out of Jack. You pull back “that should give you a nice purple one in the morning” you say. Jack nods as you both lie down, his head on your chest as you doze off.

You wake up to Jack shaking you, “look, it’s here!” He bounces around, clearly happy to the new addition on marks on his skin when he says, “I think I like this more than nougat”

[starlight-eclipsed]

DPXDC Social Media AU

Fic below!

The video started, the camera focusing on the scene before it. A teenager’s bedroom was shown, decorated with posters of space and model rockets. It was deceptively normal, had it not been for fans pointing out that they weren’t labeled LexCorp, Wayne, or any of the other leading names in aerospace.

“Hey everyone!” The teen in question greeted, smiling at the camera as he waved. “Danny here! Sorry for the radio silence—two of my rogues decided to do a collaboration and kidnapped a bunch of people. My parents grounded me and took all my video games since I kinda trashed a bunch of their equipment saving them, so I finally had enough time to record this. Again, grabbing a smartphone from you guys’ dimension was absolutely the right call. Looking forward to when the ones here will get to that level and I can use mine in public.”

Sitting back in his seat, Danny waved his hands. Papers from around the room were pulled up in the air, showing a variety of news clippings, report cards, and event flyers from the last year. “Sweet, that worked! I know it’s been a year, but I’m still getting used to these powers. Anyway, today’s topic is: secret identities! Specifically how much they can suck sometimes.”

The papers drop as he spins in his chair and folds his arms.

“Okay, so I’m gonna start this by saying I only speak for myself. Your dimension has a ton of other heroes who have all kinds of perspectives on this kind of thing. It’s also not an invitation to start harassing your friends and coworkers if they pull any stunts like the ones I’m gonna talk about. Some people are just flaky, some have other things in their life going on that they don’t want to talk to you about. In the extremely unlikely chance that you’re right and the friend who keeps bailing on you is a vigilante, you should leave that shit alone. No matter how justified you are in getting upset that they don’t have the time for you, trying to expose them can kill not only them, but everyone they want to protect. Don’t do it.”

Clapping his hands Danny tilts his head to listen for something before continuing. “With that out of the way and my whole family leaving the house, let’s get to it. Going ghost!”

A flash of light marks the transformation, revealing Phantom at the end. He adjusts the camera so that he remains in frame as he now floats in his room.

“So if you’re new here, let me run through the basics. When I was fourteen, I died and came back wrong. No, I won’t go into the details—I don’t need any of you getting any ideas. I can appear as human, so me and my two best friends decided to keep it a secret from my parents, who are ghost hunters. The current arrangement is that I go out as Phantom to fight off aggressive ghosts when they attack, and the rest of time I try to lead a somewhat abnormal civilian life.”

“Onto the topic. Now, the main reason people keep their identity secret is so that their enemies can’t use it to hurt them. I…sorta do that? I mean I’d be in a lot of trouble if ghost hunters figured me out, and the government here kinda revoked my human rights so there’s that. But there’s no hiding from other ghosts. Not when we can sense each other. I’m just lucky for the anti-ghost hunter solidarity, it’s probably the only reason my rogues haven’t revealed my human identity to the world.”

He shivered dramatically.

“So, humans. People. Being a superpowered vigilante is all fun and games except when an attack happens during class. I don’t even ask to go to the bathroom anymore, the teachers gave up on stopping me,” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Don’t get me started on how many times I’ve gotten grounded or given extra detentions because I was busy stopping someone from torching a building or possessing someone to ruin their life in creative ways. I can’t just tell them why I wasn’t there, so I either have to act like an idiot who forgot that I have classes to attend or pretend like I was skipping on purpose. Which I was, but not like that, ya know?”

“Another thing! My grades have completely tanked. I used to be a straight A student, I needed to be if I wanted to be an astronaut. But no, I had to go and get myself killed, and now my biology is all messed up so I can’t even qualify for the physical if my grades were good enough. Which they aren’t, because now I spend most of my time brawling whatever ghost of the day. And like, sure. I could do my homework and study in the rest of the time I have that’s not spent sleeping. But that’s exhausting, and honestly I’d rather take the F than spend all my time working.”

He sighed, slumping down a bit in his chair.

“It just sucks. My sister is setting records on her exams, and I’m a few pity-grades away from being held back a year. At least now I can handle most of the regulars by myself, so I’m not dragging my friends down with me. They deserve better.”

Danny opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by mist escaping his lungs. He groaned, using his telekinesis to put his room back in order (notably cramming his graded assignments behind his dresser) and reaching for the camera.

“That’s my cue. Here’s hoping I can handle whoever’s out there fast enough so I have time to get started on my book report. Over and out.”

The video ended there. For many, that would be the last they’d hear of what was speculated to be the best performance-style LARP series for a while. Fans would start analyzing the footage not in the comments section, which was disabled, but in a separate online forum.

However, there was one place, albeit less well known, that one Danny Phantom would respond in.

———

Anonymous said

its good to see yuo posting again, but you looked really stressed. are you ok?

phantompaining

lol no

—

metwise said

I completely agree with you on your recent video. Vigilante work is hard; I was lucky when I started out, and I still nearly died many times over. Don’t let your grades get to you, if your school system is anything like this world’s equivalent then it is based heavily on busywork. Next time you’re visiting this world, try looking into online schooling. There should be free resources online you can download and follow along at your own pace to supplement the classes you miss. So long as you score well on tests, you can make up for the homework grades.

phantompaining

oh ill have to look into that, sounds neat. not sure if ill get around to actually studying any of it, but its better than nothing. i cant wait for my earth to catch up with yours, online school sounds so much better

gottabeoakin

Ayo is that Red Robin? Why tf is he takin some kids larp so seriously

implusivefruit

bold words from the deathnote rp acc

—

phantompaining

shoutout to my rogues, who beat the shit out of me, dropped some new ghost lore, then backed me up in fighting an army of the undead

also mech suits hurt like hell how does skulker do it

beetletakethewheel

Mech suits shouldn’t hurt??

phantompaining

my parents’ one runs on lifeforce

anyway if i had a dollar for every time i woke up somewhere i didn’t pass out in these last few days i’d have enough money to buy a burger

killmetwise 

How much do your burgers cost

phantompaining

(:

—

phantompaining

when the hell did so many supers start following me where are you people coming from

superttk

‘why r there so many heroes’ says the hero on the hero site

01101001-01100011-01110101

its like the only anonymous platform left that doesnt suck

totallynotharleyquinn

Free entertainment <3

phantompaining

ok fair

phantompaining

wait a second

—

coalminesinger said

Hello Phantom! I just wanted to check in on you after your last few posts. Did you enjoy your weekend off?

phantompaining

nope lol, technus escaped and I used one of my parents inventions to split myself to try and relax while handling the ghost issue and just made more work for myself

metwise 

#on the plus side my house is now on the beach #just in time for summer

You live in the middle of town???

phantompaining

yea putting it back is gonna be a pain

—

phantompaining

ok this is gonna be a heavy one folks. like arkham asylum levels of shit. i just spent the last week with my family convinced i was going insane, and i need to vent

:readmore:

discowinginginging

That really really sucks, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.

I went through a similar experience (only I was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug that made me see, hear, and feel the villain in question, who wasn’t actually there). I was lucky enough to be on a team with someone who could read my mind and figure out what was happening, but if you can’t do that the next best thing is figuring out code words with anyone in the know. Obviously it’s not perfect, but some kind of word indicating that you feel like something is very wrong could save you a lot of trouble.

More under the cut.

:readmore:

phantompaining

…that could work? ill have to talk to my friends about it, but it sounds good

#thanks #still cant believe so many of yall are following this