#i would bring him up before and she would dismiss me quick bc he just sucks simple as that

[confinesofmy]

one thing i hate about my cousin is she can't just let anybody be mad at somebody else. she has to take control of the situation. i've talked to her about her brother many times in the past year and every time she's tried to convince me he's more of an asshole than i know, and she basically laughs at me when i expect more of him. recently he was just too fucking mean to me so i skipped out on christmas celebrations at his place because i didn't want to experience more, and when i told her why i was skipping out she began a propaganda campaign designed to make me appreciate him more "despite his rough edges." now she's telling me he invited me specifically by name, he missed me at the party, he told other cousin that he loved the mac and cheese i made at thanksgiving so much that if i ever wanna bring food again i should bring it. i don't think she's lying about any of it, i'm just so annoyed by the psyop of it all. she clearly thinks i was overreacting and is now trying for damage control and it's so stupid because i didn't even DO anything except remove myself from a situation.

[blindmagdalena]

First I’m literally obsessed with the way you write homie it’s literally so in character.

Second, how do you think he would react to having a thicker gf and seeing them being verbally harassed bc of it? I feel like he would lose his mind

this fic has been rewritten and given a smutty follow up! check it out here. ;)

Tonight's gala is a significant one. Not only does Homelander have about a dozen deals to grease with a firm handshake and some oily promises, it's your first time attending one of these events at his side. He couldn't be prouder. You took his breath away in your formal wear; a sight to behold that had him clapping his delight. "You're gonna knock them dead," he whispered in your ear, savoring the flustered, breathy way you laughed.

Strange now that when he looks for you, Homelander doesn't see you on the event floor. You had gone to get drinks while he spoke with this senator—who has officially lost any and all of his interest in the wake of your disappearance—but you've been gone too long. Like an itch at the back of his neck, something doesn't feel right. "Ah, apologies, senator, I seem to have misplaced my date," he says, flashing his best award winning smile. "Gimme a minute to find her. Make sure she hasn't gotten herself into any trouble," he says, throwing in a wink for good measure. His pleasant expression falls off as soon as his back is turned to the boring little man. When Homelander doesn't find you on the event floor, he steps out. He listens for you, filtering out the music, the chatter, the noise of the world. He seeks what is familiar to him, what he would know from a meter or a mile away, and what he hears puts a lump of ice into his gut. You're crying.

Homelander moves swiftly down the hall, finding the women's bathroom in a heartbeat. You've gone far from the event floor, bypassing the nearer bathroom to use one further away. You're hiding, he realizes, but he can't fathom what from. He moves faster, imagining that you're hurt, that someone has you, that— "Babe?!" Homelander calls sharply, slamming open the door. He doesn't mean to scare you, but he can see in your expression that he did. Your eyes are wide and red, tears trailing black mascara down your cheeks. You stand with your hand lingering on the bathroom sink, and as the shock fades, your expression falters.

He's never seen you look so... sad. It twists in him like a hot knife, the discomfort he feels at it turning immediately into rage. Anger comes quick and easy to him. His voice is low when he demands, "Tell me what happened." "It's nothing," you try to dismiss, picking up the tissues you dropped on the floor to toss them into the garbage. "I just got overwhelmed at the party." "You're crying in a bathroom a floor down from the event, it is categorically not nothing," he argues, taking hold of your arms once he's near enough. He pulls you into him, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face. Thanks to plenty of experience with makeup in film and television, he knows better than to smear the blackened tears on your cheeks, though the impulse to wipe them away is there. "C'mon. Tell me."

You lean into him as you always do. He is a pillar, just as you have been for him. He can't fucking stand seeing you like this. "I don't belong here. I don't... talk, or dress, or look like these people. They're all..." You lift your hands, gesturing vaguely. Your voice sounds hoarse. He can't bear the sadness in it. "Perfect." "You have to be kidding me," Homelander says, his disbelief genuine. "The gaggle of sycophants and suits back there? They're insipid. Boring as all hell. I can't even tolerate being in the same room as them without you anymore," he says, huffing a laugh in an attempt to ease your mood. Anything to bring back your smile. "Seriously, what brought this on? You've never given a shit about all that pomp before." Your gaze drops. He knows you're hiding something from him. "Hey, c'mon," he coos, using the knuckle of his index finger to tilt your chin back up. "Tell me, and I will make it better."

One way or another.

With visible reluctance, you take a breath. "I... went to get the drink, like I said," you begin, fidgeting with the zipper on his glove. "When a group of people kind of cornered me at the bar. They seemed nice at first, they were asking questions about me, about us, which I know you said to expect, but then..." Your eyes prickle, he can see fresh tears well up as you speak. Homelander slips a hand to your back, rubbing it, his brow furrowed.

Sounds like someone's going to die tonight.

"One of them commented on my dress, she said that... Vought must not be used to dressing women my size," you say, voice falling quieter with every word. New tears fall. Homelander's jaw tenses. He looks away from you, blinking back that familiar crimson burn. "They all started laughing, and I just wanted to disappear," you say, a tight little sob escaping your throat as Homelander pulls you in against his chest, rubbing your back. "I'm sorry I didn't-" "No," Homelander interrupts, his anger making the word sound harsher than he intended. "No," he says again, correcting himself to be gentler. This rage isn't for you, after all. "No apologies. Let's get you cleaned up, alright? Get back out there." Someone is definitely going to die tonight. You tense up, pushing back from his arms to look up at him. "Please, I'd really like to just go home." "We will," he assures you, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. "Soon. I want you to show me the group who spoke to you."

"I don't want to cause a scene," you plead, flattening your hands to his chest. "They're not worth it." "No, they're not. But you are," he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. He holds you firm until he feels you begin to melt, yielding to the warmth of him. By the time he draws back, you look sufficiently pliant. "Okay," you say quietly. He bites back a predatory smirk. "Nothing too dramatic, please?" You plea, leveling him with an attempt at a firm look, despite your big teary eyes. "Me? Dramatic?" He asks, feigning outrage. "I mean it," you stress, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There it is, Homelander thinks. There is not a single heinous thing he would not do to see you smile. "Relax," he purrs. "I'll handle this."

When the two of you return to the event floor, it only takes you a moment to point out the offending group. With a hand wrapped securely around your waist, Homelander brazenly guides you to them. He feels you squeeze his hand anxiously, but he isn't the least bit deterred.

"Heyyy, what's up!" Homelander greets boisterously, bulldozing into their conversation with the friendliest of tone. Only you are wise enough to recognize the venom dripping from the corners of his mouth. His canines glint sharply in the light, as if eager for a bloody meal.

The air is strange, a mixture of drunken excitement and surprised nervousness. It's not every day Homelander himself steps into your conversation. A few of them look at you before they exchange glances, but clearly enough alcohol has been imbibed that they're feeling brave. They don't see the danger they're in. Homelander runs his tongue along his teeth. You clueless fucking idiots.

"Homelander, oh my god! I was hoping to run into you," one of the women announces. He can smell the liquor on her breath when she leans in, putting a bold hand on his arm opposite to the one he holds you with. "I'm such a fan, you have no idea. I've seen every one of your movies," she says, flushed giddy.

"Always great to meet such a dedicated fan," he says, lying through his teeth. A glance through her bag gives him exactly what he needs; her Vought security badge. She works in communications. "Kathleen, right? In Communications," he says, pointing a finger at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he's just now recalling this information. "Oh, I-wow, yes! I can't believe you know who I am," she says, glancing back at her companions.

"I try to know everyone I work with," he lies smoothly, subtly shrugging her hand off of his shoulder, placing his hand on his hip. Not all of them work for Vought, but each of them has their ID on them. A quick flit of his super powered vision between them is all it takes for him to know each and every one of them.

Homelander cocks his head to the side, giving her a once over. Her dress is richly patterned, a myriad of black, white and red. The belt bears a familiar double C logo.

“Wow, Kathleen, look at you. Chanel, huh? Oh, wait…,” he stops himself, leaning forward to take a better look at the details of the dress. He clicks his tongue, standing straight. “Nooope, I misspoke. Chanel doesn’t bleed. Not a bad knock-off, though,” he says with a brief downturn of his lips, shrugging. Immediately, all eyes fall on Kathleen. There are a couple of stifled giggles and some childish oohh's. The man to her left, seeming eager to play along with Homelander’s little game of Mean Girls, readily chimes in, “Busted.” “I’d be quiet if I were you, Chuck,” Homelander says, rounding on the man so sharply, his laughter falls immediately silent. The shock on his face is understandable. He doesn't work for Vought. Homelander has no right knowing his name. “I can smell the red paint on the bottom of those misshapen Johnston & Murphy’s you’re trying to pass off as Louis Vuitton. Now that’s embarrassing.” This time, no one’s laughing. There’s no mirth left in Homelander’s voice, and they've all finally realized it. His gaze is drifting from one potential prey to the next, his mouth set in an unyielding line. He lifts his brows, waiting for them to continue their jeering.

“What? No one has anything to say to that? How about you, Jason?” He asks, startling one of the other men. “Why don’t we talk about those fucking ugly veneers of yours? I mean, god damn. I’ve never seen a more square smile in my life. It’s like staring at white slatwall every time you open your mouth.” Homelander begins to laugh. The sound of it is thorned, vicious to behold. “Aww, c’mon, don’t be so fucking sensitive. You wanted to have a laugh at my girl, right? Let’s laugh, then,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to snap his fingers impatiently, demanding, “Laugh!” Like a bark from an obedient dog, a single man amidst the group forces a stilted laugh. Homelander hones in on him with the precision of a seeking missile, dropping his hand. Deadpan, he asks, “Something funny, Jim?” Jim audibly gulps. “Y-you said-” "Y'see, that's your problem. You're all just a bunch of fucking sheep, so desperate to be seen as somebody, you end up being no one at all. If you put half the effort you put into kissing ass into a personality, you might be a fraction as interesting as she is," he says, gesturing to you with the hand he doesn't have holding you close.

"But instead you prop yourselves up on all this..." Homelander spins his hand loosely through the air before sighing, "Bullshit. It's boring. You're all so fucking boring and miserable with yourselves. You reek of it," he says, lip twitching in a near snarl. "Go. Get the fuck out of my tower,” he rumbles, voice set low. “All of you. Before I throw you off the balcony myself.”

There's a pregnant pause before Homelander snaps, "Now!" Like roaches, the lot of them scatter. Homelander watches them with a sneer. He would have preferred literally tearing them apart, but it's neither the time nor the place. "Holy shit," you whisper. Homelander hums quietly, turning to look down at you. Before he can say a word, you grab hold of the back of his neck and kiss him absolutely senseless. He grins against your lips, turning to pull you properly into his arms. His ego swells immediately, the kiss speaking volumes. You're pleased. Pleased with him. He greedily soaks up the feeling of your body against his, lips moving against yours, eager to chase away the salt smell of your tears with something a little more salacious. The two of you break apart before the kiss becomes any more scandalous than it already was, the buzz of the crowd around you dulled by the fervency pulsing between your bodies. "That was... the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me," you whisper, your heart beating heavily in your chest.

"That so? Might not be for long. This dress on your body has been driving me positively wild. All. Night. Long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. You bite your lip, inhaling a sharp, flustered little breath. "Can we get out of here yet?"

"You're damn right we can," he says, kissing you again.

That night, Homelander fucks you in and out of the dress. The truth of it is that whether you're dressed to the nines or laid completely bare, he will always be wild for you. You're beautiful, you're his through and through, and he's going to make sure every inch of you knows it.

He can deep fry those morons another night.

[soulwillower]

cleaning the room • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

requested:  heyyy i love your work!! can i maybe request a Richie smut where their like in the middle of doing “it” but then someone calls the reader (maybe bev or eddie or sumn) and instead of stopping richie keeps going and so she has to continue the call and pretend like shes not in the middle of such unholy acts haha sorry if its too specific,, thank you!!!

warnings: swearing, smut, spitting, v light cum play, light light slapping (reader smacks richie bc theyre frustrated he was teasing them), unprotected sex, risky sex, talking on the phone w someone, use of the words whore/slut, degradation, this has literally no plot its all smut LOL

heyyy finally bback w a fic, i have awful writers block so this was all i could do. hope u guys like it

[ 18+ ]

1.8k words

♡

"richie," you purr, sighing with lust as your boyfriend's hands pull your hips harder towards his own, arching your back as his hand rises to gently push you down against the mattress. he hums, leaning down to kiss your lips hard, thrusting into you as your back rubs the sheets under you. 

richie leans back and his mouth opens to murmur something to you, but a ringing noise makes you jolt. both of you turn to look at your phone, which has lit up with the call from someone. richie sighs and you groan, arm reaching out to grope around for the phone as your other hand threads into richie's hair, tugging him as he slowly eases on his thrusts. 

"oh, god," you say, half moaning as richie's strokes slow, changing angles as he looks down at you with mischevious eyes. "it's eddie." you add, tossing your phone to the edge of the bed.

 richie hums, pulling out of you and grabbing the phone. you whine, looking at him, "no, please keep going, i can call him back later." you beg, desperate to feel richie again. richie raises his brows, "you know he'll just keep calling." 

you lean back, sighing because you know richie's right. "fuck you richie. fine." and then you snatch the phone, pressing the answer button. "hey, wh-what's up?" you ask, breathing slightly heavily. 

"hey, i was wondering what your plans are later. we need to get some supplies for the party." eddie says cheerfully, and you swallow. god, couldn't he have called any other time? at least this will be quick. 

you jolt but keep quiet as you feel richie's fingers gently run through your slick folds, thumb teasing your clit. you let out a short whine and gulp, "oh, uh, yeah i can-can hang out later, just not now-" you swallow. your face feels on fire, excited by the idea of possibly being caught. 

"you okay, y/n?" eddie asks genuinely, sounding concerned. you bite your lip so hard you think it may draw blood as you gasp, "yeah, just...not feeling good." you say, sharply inhaling as richie quietly chuckles. you send him a glare. 

"richie and i are c-cleaning his room and there's... it's hard work." you mutter breathlessly as you go up on one elbow, eyeing richie as he smirks, his hand trailing down to stroke his cock. you barely resist a moan as you watch him, biting your lip as you wish you could have him in your mouth. 

"okay..." eddie says absently, immediately dismissing your excuse as he launches into a conversation with you asking about what you're bringing to mike's surprise party on saturday. you're biting your lip as you fall back onto the mattress, heart racing as you think back to twenty seconds ago when richie's cock was inside you. "-and, you know, i think richie's bringing weed and some handles, but maybe if you still have your fake you could try and get us some-" 

but you accidentally cut eddie's sentence off with a sharp gasp tailed with a moan, because as you were listening to eddie, richie lined himself back up to your entrance and pushed straight into you.

your eyes are wide as you stare at richie, watching as he winks at you, finger going to his lips in a shush motion. you hate how immediate your shivers of lust flow through you, as richie starts to slowly thrust into you again. you roll your eyes but your face heats up as eddie's voice breaks the silence over the phone, "y/n, wh... -are you sure you're doing fine?" 

you pull your hand off your mouth, "yes! yes, i just-" you cough to cover up a moan as richie spits down onto your dripping cunt and starts to thrust harder, "i stubbed my fucking toe." richie's smirking darkly at your words, looking down at you as his large hand creeps up your body, splaying across your breasts and then to your neck, ghosting a squeeze before slipping a finger into your open, panting mouth. 

his other hand finds purchase on the skin of your thighs and he winks at you, moving his hips and hitting the perfect spot inside you. the pleasure you feel has your eyes falling back, toes curling. 

"oh. well make sure if it's bad that you ice it, because one time my ma stubbed her toe and she had to stay in bed for a week," and then eddie launches into a quick story and you hum along to make it seem like you're listening even though all you can think about is richie and how his hand is tweaking your nipples, splaying across your sternum, as you suck on his fingers. 

then he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing in a pattern that has you seeing stars. 

"-wait, you said you're with richie?" eddie asks and you cough, throat caught after having richie's hand on it, "yes, he's- he’s right here." you say breathlessly. 

"can you let me ask him something?" 

your eyes widen and you gasp a bit, making eye contact with richie. "s-sure, here he is."  richie's giddy face as he grabs the phone from you makes you nervous, but you bite your lip as he mutters, "hey, eds." 

it's quiet for a bit as eddie's voice drawls along on the other line and suddenly richie's pushing your legs up towards your shoulders and speeding up his thrusts, the deep angle almost making you scream in pleasure. his hand falls over your mouth, keeping you quiet as he leans over you, pumping into you and making tears of pleasure form in the corner of your eyes. 

richie mutters, “mhm? yeah, yeah.” to eddie, but the sultry way he’s staring at you and the way your nails are raking down his back make you wonder if the words are also for you. 

"yeah, she's helping me out, she's always so good like that." richie says, voice shockingly even for the way that he's fucking you into your mattress. and yeah, that definitely is for you. 

 the desperation and pleasure creep up on you alarmingly quick and you can't help the whimpers that quietly escape you - you thank god for the loud fan in your room to cover your noises. 

richie hums to eddie a few more times, then he slaps your thigh gently as you try to close your legs from the pleasure, knowing when you cum you won't be able to keep quiet. it makes you feel even closer, though. "yeah, eds, i can do that. now listen, i got something important to finish off here so i'm going to give you back to my girl." 

you bite your lip, feeling warm as you squirm under richie's touch, hands shakily taking the phone back from him and then richie’s kneeling above you, fucking you down into the mattress and filling you up fully. "eddie," you gasp, "i also have to go, i'll - i'll call you later?" you say, trying your hardest to hold off your orgasm as richie spits on your chest, licking and biting and leaving a love bite in the same spot as he thrusts hard into you. 

"sure, bye y/n!" eddie chirps.

and then the second your finger presses the off button you're a begging mess, eyes screwing shut as you reach up to grip richie's neck. his hands push your knees up towards your head, hitting a spot that has you clenching around him, legs shaking as your chest stutters.

 "please, richie, god, i'm going to kill you for that." you hiss, causing him to grin, "i fucking hate you, i hate you." you mutter, smacking his cheek lightly. the grin after you leave the smack makes you even closer to the edge, and his hands grip your tits as he leans towards your ear. 

his strokes are hitting you deep and hotly as he chuckles, "you liked it. i saw it in your face. pathetic desperation. i can feel it." he whispers against your clammy skin, his fingers brushing against your slick heat as he mutters. your cheeks are hot in embarrassment, and you whimper in need. 

you bite your lip hard, resisting a moan as a sharp cry falls from your lips, shaking as you beg, "richie, just - please, let me cum. please." 

"you're so pretty when you beg, look at you. perfect little whore, talkin' on the phone to my best friend while i fuck you." he mutters, hand caressing your burning cheek as you whimper. "all mine, so eager and willing to do whatever i want."  

you nod, "yes, i'm yours, just - please, please." you whimper. "please say i can cum."

he smiles as he kisses your nose, "would you do whatever i want?” 

you stutter an exhale, “yes! fuck, richie, yes, yes i would. i’m yours.” 

he smiles, “cum, then." you do after the next three thrusts, shaking and gasping and calling richie's name. the euphoria rushes through your body and makes your eyes roll back, chest rising and falling as richie rides you through your high. 

only a minute later, richie pulls out of you, hand moving to pump himself. "my perfect slut." he mutters as you sit up slightly on shaky elbows, tongue out and mouth open as you pant, richie's hand moving in quick movements as he chases his own high. then he's grabbing your neck and pulling you toward him, moans leaving his lips as he cums in spurts onto your open tongue and down your chin, a bit dripping onto your chest. his thumb caresses you, opening your mouth wider and smearing his cum on your lips, wiping it from your tits and slapping them lightly, pinching your nipples and making you grin up at him. 

and his chest is heaving as he smiles down at you, shaking his head as you swallow his cum, "christ, you're perfect doll." you tug his arms so that he falls down onto you and you're both chuckling as you become a tangled mess of limbs and beating hearts and blushy cheeks, sticky bodies cuddling close. 

"he's going to find out." you say after a few seconds. richie hums, "what makes you say that, sugar? it's not like you were all 'richie, fuck me harder, please, yes!' while you were on the phone. that was only after." he teases, and you smack his chest lightly, "shut the fuck up, richie. i hate you." you say through a laugh. he's laughing too as he pulls you even closer, kissing your hairline, "i love you so much, y/n." he says, smiling giddily. 

you pull his chin to you, kissing him sweetly. "i love you too, richie. but eddie's going to your place later, he's going to see that we didn't clean the room." 

richie laughs, shrugging as he runs a hand through his messy curls, "let 'em guess. it's funnier that way." and then he's kissing you, rolling on top of you and tickling your sides as you scream and squeal. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings  @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly  @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

[yesimwriting]

All The Good Dreams

A/n this one is based on a request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera who requested a fic where General Kirigan has been dreaming of the reader for as long as he can remember and that’s one of his few reasons to smile and the reader has been having the same kinds of dreams about him and when they meet they just know. 

This one is being written in third person bc it’s the only way I can see this fic being done but I’m a little insecure about writing in third person so be gentle lol

Also a little personal update I’ve been working on my original novel and it’s coming together y’all!!

--

ALEKSANDER. 

The morning sunlight seems to only come to take her from him, peaking through the curtains and stirring him awake and away from his dreams. Aleksander keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, trying to will her features to remain in his mind. She had looked more angelic in last night’s dream, dressed in all white and watching him with an adoration he doubted real life could duplicate. 

The girl has haunted his dreams like a ghost of promise since before he began to change the world. Since before anything in his life was solidified. He lets out a sigh, something similar to a smile playing at his lips. Thinking of her would not bring her to him, if he could manifest her, she’d be by his side right now. He has things to do, duties and obligations that will bring his final goal closer. Each day is a step closer to victory, and each night brings the promise of dreams. The promise of her. 

--

Y/N.

“Y/n.” The voice is gentle and distant. “Y/n,” a little harsher. “Wake up, you’ll be late.” 

Fighting against grogginess, y/n wakes up, eyes squinting open. “What time is it, Danna?” 

“Late.” Danna’s reply is curt as she steps away from y/n’s cot. “I thought you were awake already and then I came in to look for my boots and you were still asleep with that ridiculously peaceful look.” Danna paces around the room. “You must have been dreaming of your prince again?” 

Y/n feels her skin warm. “He’s not a prince!” It’s a weak defense. “I regret telling you that almost every time I dream I see the same man.” 

Danna drops down, grabbing her worn boots and pulling them on quickly. “You’re making me believe in soulmates, l/n.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes, sitting up and placing her feet on the ground at her own leisure. “It’s nothing like that--I’m not even sure he exists.” 

Lacing her shoes, Danna narrows her eyes at y/n. “Sure.” Y/n opens her mouth to protest, but Danna beats her to it, “If you need to argue with me, do it while getting dressed, we can’t be late today--General Kirigan’s visiting this camp for the first time and I doubt he’d appreciate being interrupted by a non-Grisha medic.” 

At that, y/n wrinkles her nose, but she stands anyway. “Ugh...Grisha.” She walks towards her uniform. “They can get away with anything and I hear Kirigan’s the worst of all of them because he’s in the same order as the Black Heretic that began all of this.” Y/n pauses, crossing her arms. “And it’s ridiculous that the army even needs non-Grisha medics. Healers exist and they should not be primarily reserved for other Grisha who rarely get injured, especially to the extent that the rest of us do.” 

“I know, y/n, but don’t speak like that until the General is gone.” Danna draws her lips into a thin line. “And hurry up before you get us both in trouble.” 

Y/n lets out a sigh. “Go ahead without me, I’ll catch up.”

Danna eyes her friend wearily. “Alright, worse comes to worse I’ll try to cover for you.” 

“You won’t need to.” Y/n isn’t sure she believes herself. “I’ll be there.” 

Danna pulls on her second boot, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t really believe you.” She stands easily. “But knowing you, you’ll talk yourself out of any trouble the way you always do.” 

“I do not always talk myself out of trouble.” 

Turning to leave, Danna pauses, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

Y/n rolls her eyes. If she had more time to argue with Danna she would take it. But she doesn’t. She’s quick to get dressed, thoughts of the mysterious stranger from her dreams keeping her company. Last night he seemed more tired than normal, a crease between his dark eyebrows as he sat by her side. A part of her she keeps buried worries about him. It’s ridiculous, to concern yourself over a figment of comfort your mind created for you. 

By the time y/n’s changed, she knows she doesn’t have much time to get to her station. She’s rushing out of her tent, one boot still untied. The medic bag she slings over her shoulder swings as she jogs towards the medical tent. Today the camp is hectic, everyone desiring to appear efficient and reliable for General Kirigan. It’s all ridiculous to Y/n. General Kirigan will never be impressed by them. If he’s revered even among Grisha, Y/n can’t imagine the superiority complex that man must possess.

Her eyes scan the soldiers and workers she knows so well, each of them behaving so differently than normal. There is no friendly chatter this morning, no casual banter. There is only the business of war. 

Y/n watches the people she knows, so focused on their nerves that she barely registers the person she crashes into. “Sorry!” The apology leaves Y/n on instinct.  Her bag falls off her shoulder, gauze and antiseptic falling onto the ground on impact. Y/n bends down instantly, beginning to pick up her supplies. She mentally curses herself for being so easily distracted and not properly shutting her bag this morning. “Everything’s so hectic today and I was running late and I just--I have no idea how I didn’t see you.” She drops her supplies back into her bag. “I guess it’s a good thing they keep me off the battlefield and in the medical tents.” 

Reaching for the last of her supplies, Y/n’s eyes land on the shoes of the person she just crashed into. They’re leather. The fine kind of leather meant for marble halls, not trekking through the unknown. Y/n’s mouth goes dry as the possibility of the graveness of her mistake sets in her mind. She exhales slowly, daring to look upwards as she closes her bag. 

When her eyes meet those of the stranger, she is left with no choice but to gape. She’s not staring because she’s now at the mercy of General Kirigan. She’s not staring because nothing could have prepared her for his beauty. She’s staring because she knows that face. She knows those sharp features and steady eyes.

His lips are slightly parted. Y/n is struck with the odd thought that perhaps he too has words wedged into his throat. 

“It’s you.” The whisper leaves her faintly. 

The words seem to unfreeze Kirigan, his expression moving from shocked to stoic. “Excuse me?” 

Awkward regret floods through Y/n. She drops her head downwards, desperate to escape the power of his gaze. “General Kirigan.” She uses her words as a way to dismiss the emotions her chest seems to be brimming with as she stands. He’s not the man from her dreams. That’s impossible. “I apologize for my inappropriate behavior an--” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head once. Y/n bites her tongue at his dismissal. “You said ‘it’s you.’”

Embarrassment knots her stomach. “I just hadn’t realized that I ran into you, General. I--I knew you were coming today, but I wasn’t expecting to see you much less like this.” 

Kirigan’s eyes seem to be nothing more than inviting pools of kindling emotion. So familiar yet so distinct. He can’t be the man from her dreams. The man from her dreams must be nothing more than a composition of traits she finds generally attractive. General Kirigan just happens to possess those features. That explanation is the only thing that keeps Y/n’s feet rooted to the ground, but the longer she looks at him the more that explanation loses its strength. There’s just something so knowing behind his expression, so specific to the face that she’s only seen while asleep. 

Tearing his gaze away to scan the area, Kirigan reaches forward, placing a hand on Y/n’s arm. The touch leaves Y/n warmer than it should. Maybe that’s why she lets him lead her forward, ducking into an empty medical tent. She keeps hold of her bag as he turns, his eyes full of something dark and unknown. But not angry, Y/n notes, no, not angry. The look is too peaceful for rage, perhaps even hopeful. 

“When you looked at me…” He exhales, voice low and sacred, “You said ‘it’s you’.” Y/n can only blink, still mesmerized by something so foreign and familiar all at once. “Do you know me?” 

In his urgency, Kirigan’s hold on Y/n’s arm becomes more assured. Something in Y/n wants to pry herself free in order to prove to herself that she’s capable of resisting his drawl. But his touch is not to trap her, the look in his eyes tells her that. His touch is pleading--desperate and hopeful. 

“Everyone knows you,” when Y/n finally finds her voice, she is not convinced it is her own. 

The corners of Kirigan’s mouth fall downwards, something in him threatening to deflate. “I meant--have you seen me before?” The question is not one Y/n is too willing to answer. How could she tell this strange man, this general she was convinced she’d dislike on some fundamental level while never speaking to him, that she knows him? She knows him like she knows her own beginning. “Because I’ve seen you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way her eyes widen. This doesn’t mean anything, she warns herself, he could have seen her walking. “I didn’t see you, that--that’s why I ran into you--” 

“No, you’re avoiding the question.” Her face is warmer than it was when Danna was teasing her this morning. It’s warmer than it’s ever been. “Because you’ve experienced it as well.” 

The swelling in her chest is overwhelming. “Experienced what?” 

Kirigan eyes the entrance to the tent once more, confirming that no one is approaching. “All of the good dreams,” he exhales, “They have been of you.” 

Y/n can’t help the way everything in her melts. She’s not insane. She’s not projecting something dangerous onto the Shadow Summoner. “I see you in my dreams always.” 

Slowly, he releases his grip on her arm. Watching her like she might be a mirage, Kirigan raises his hand, brushing his knuckles along Y/n’s cheek. She lets him, holding her breath until his hand falls back to his side. A part of Kirigan expected the girl to be a trick of the light, something that his touch would reveal to be a fallacy. But she remains true, watching him with eyes the size of saucers. 

“How long I’ve been waiting for you, you’ll never know.” His voice is as heavy as a lament. 

Y/n feels her back straighten slightly on instinct, desperate to pass whatever scrutiny is being passed over her. “How--how does this happen? How do two strangers dream of each other for so long and...” 

Something knowing colors his smile a shade of ambitious green. “What is your name?” 

“Y/n.” 

Kirigan’s minds flit through lifetimes worth of faint memories. The girl laughing, the girl teary eyed, the girl embodying all the stars he’ll never have, the girl representing all he needs. Y/n. There’s finally a name to her. 

“Y/n,” the name is a gift. Kirigan pulls a ring from his fingers before grabbing Y/n’s arm. Too lost in a strange euphoria, she lets him pull her arm forward before pressing his ring into her skin. Her brow furrows as he begins to guide the metal down her skin. That slight confusion quickly turns to total shock as a thread of light begins to spindle down her skin, following the path he’s creating with the ring. “You and I are going to change the world.” 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag @kaitlyn2907

[thatblackravenclaw]

Breaking My Heart

Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

word count: 991

warning(s): angst, cheating, major character death, no happy ending, no part two, not proofread bc I'm lazy :)

I fall in love too easily. I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different. I knew she was no good for me, yet I decided to keep pursuing her.

It’s going to take a while to get over this. I can’t believe she’s gone, but it’s better this way. We could have been so good together, but I guess I wasn’t good enough. I now have to see her at work every day. I’m not going to stop being an Avenger just because we broke up.

I’m glad I decided not to live at the compound. I know we get our own rooms in stuff, but Stark tends to have parties for no reason and my social battery drains fast and sometimes you just want some peace and quiet, like right now as I’m getting ready.

We have a mission today so I get ready a little faster. Nothing too fancy just enough to be comfortable. Once I’m finished, I look out the window, preparing myself for having to see her again. I used to get so excited just hearing her name, but now? Now I feel like I’m going to throw up. I want to be mad. I want to hate her, but it’s just not in me.

-.-.-.-

I make sure to say hi to everyone as I make my way to the briefing room, trying not to let on how tired I really am. I go on autopilot as I stand in the elevator. No one else is in there, but there’s cameras, so I make sure to keep my composure. I see my reflection in the mirror and see no emotion in my face or my eyes. I hope it stays that way when I eventually have to see her.

The door opens and the first thing I see her and Sharon kissing outside of the briefing room. First, she cheats on me and then she openly kisses the girl she cheated on me with. Great. I walk past them and go sit down. I play on my phone until I see someone in my peripheral vision sit next to me. I quickly glance and see Clint. His eyes are full of sincerity. I curtly nod my head no. I’m glad our friendship has come to a level where he understands. He gives me an understanding nod before squeezing my hand as the meeting starts.

“Nothing too big today. We just need to get information from Hydra’s database.” I hear Tony say.

I doodle on my notepad, not feeling the need to really listen.

I’m not sure how much time passes but I hear my name even in my spaced-out state.

“You will be putting the information on the hard drive while Nat stands guard. Sam and I will be waiting in the quinjet in case back up is needed.”

Clint tenses up next to me. I nod my head and get up with everyone else as we’re dismissed and go put on my suit.

-.-.-.-

“You gonna be okay?” I hear from behind me.

I take out my knives and put them into the pocket that’s on my thigh. When I’m finished, I look up at Clint with a smirk.

“Oh, come on, don’t lose faith in my abilities now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, but I can’t think about that right now. Bringing Hydra down is more important than my wreck of a love life.”

He walks up to me and hugs me.

“God, Clint. This is gay.”

“Be safe. You’re good at what you do, but you’re also reckless.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him back. The atmosphere shifts. Clint never hugs me. I don’t think he hugs anyone to be honest. It takes everything in me not to cry as I pull back.

“You’re the best of us.” I say looking at him in the eye. I walk out of the room as I feel my tear ducts well up.

-.-.-.-

The ride is pretty quick. I sit in the co-pilot sit so I don’t have to be by Natasha. It’s bad enough that we have to be by each other while I download the stuff to the drive. Steve is flying and has not stopped apologizing. It seems that more people knew about the break up than I thought. I told him it’s not his fault that we got paired up. Our talent is about the same level, so it just makes sense.

-.-.-

Steve has given us the all clear, so Nat and I sneak up to the fifth floor. No one was guarding it, which I found a bit suspicious, but didn’t think too much on since I just wanted to get this mission over with.

I put the drive into the thing and wait. It’s taking longer than I’d like, but I should’ve expected nothing less.

“Y/N/N, BEHIND YOU!” Nat says.

I take my knife out of its pocket and just stab whoever behind me. I guess Natasha had the same idea, but she misses and hits me instead.

I look down at the knife in me, near my heart as I hear the other person’s body drop behind me. My eyes move up to Nat to see her already starting towards me. The feeling in my legs quickly flee and I proceed to fall.

She moves my head onto her lap, tears in her eyes.

“Man, first you break my heart and then try to stab it? You must really have it out for me.” Dry humor escaping my lips.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean- he was behind you and I thought I got him I-“ She quivers out. Tears clearly down her face.

“Shh. I know. I forgive you.” I say. The last thing I say.

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[hyunjilicious]

size [henry cavill]

A/n: this is reuploaded from one of my side blogs which I will no longer use. I’m posting it again over here because I really like it and I think it would be a shame to let it get lost in the void.

Summary: there isn’t too much plot. just 1.2k of mostly size kink (+ some daddy kink bc I’m a hoe) 

“...of molecules. And even then, if we zoom in, we’ll see that a molecule is made out of atoms. But it doesn’t stop there either, an atom, which is mostly empty space, is made up out of electrons, which in turn…”

“Y/n!” Henry’s slightly amused tone reached your ears, making your head snap in his direction, abandoning the TV screen.

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean, ‘yeah’?” he laughed out loud.

Only then did you register the full picture. Legs bare above the fluffy socks you bought for him, Henry stood before you, a black mug in tow. He was wearing an old pair of worn out sweatpants and a T-shirt which was probably big enough to fit the both of you. The epitome of cuteness.

“Sorry” you shook your head, and pointed to the TV, “I didn’t hear what you said”

Taking a deep breath, Henry closed his eyes in defeat, before using his left foot to nudge you against your thigh, “Move”

“Why?”

“Been wanting to watch this for hours!”

“Then sit on the couch” you taunted, pointing to the side as you cuddled deeper into the armchair - his armchair. The one you just claimed for the day.

“Are you serious?” he asked, head falling to the side, already anticipating the answer you were going to give him.

“Yes!”

“Fine, then” 

With a determined shake of his head, Henry placed his mug on the coffee table, and turned to you, the look in his eyes signaling it was your last chance. Determined to stand your ground you shrugged, and averted your gaze, returning to the documentary.

“...energy in the form of strings…”

“If you wanna be like that-” Henry puffed, shamelessly lodging his arms under your frame.

“What are you-”

As if feather light in his hold, he picked you up, and crawled behind you, slumping down into his favorite chair, with you now in his lap. With his arms still around you, you allowed yourself to sink into his chest, his broad shoulders towering above you.

“In my defense-” you laughed, “I thought you were going to make me sit on the couch”

“Unlike you, my love” Henry taunted, speaking lewdly into your ear, “I actually like cuddling you”

“Oh, shut up” you scoffed, making yourself more comfortable.

He gently parted his legs, his massive thighs framing yours perfectly. It seemed as though you were both finally paying attention to the documentary, but when Henry placed his right hand in your lap, your eyes snapped downwards. Completely dismissing the intricate explanation of the newest discovery regarding string theory, you intertwined your fingers with his.

A deep grumble erupted from Henry’s chest, as his chuckle shook your whole frame. He turned his hand upside down, your palm now laying on top of his’.

“I fucking love how tiny your hands can be” he laughed, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Giggling as his stubble tickled your skin, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, “Why?”

“Makes my cock look bigger” he joked, kissing the spot behind your ear that made all the hairs on your body stand up.

“As if you need anything to make it look bigger”

“You love daddy’s massive cock, don’t you, baby girl?” Henry grinned, tilting your chin so his eyes could meet yours.

“Maybe”

“Oh” he exclaimed, “Maybe, she said”

With your cheeks burning from the inside, you gathered your legs in front of your chest, hiding your face against your knees. Not that you weren’t fully on board with the topic of conversation, but even after all this time, he still managed to bring alive the butterflies in your stomach. You were weak for him no matter what he did, but when he was completely wrapped around you, grinning down at you as you sank into his hold, your mind fully betrayed you.

“The way you fit perfectly into my lap drives my wild, baby girl”

“I fit into everyone’s lap” you laughed, referencing all the times Henry made fun of just how small you were compared to him.

“Fuck everyone else” he shook his head, “It’s only daddy’s lap for you”

Mid-giggle, you pushed yourself up and cupped his cheek, kissing his lips over your shoulder.

You knew just what it did to him. Now you were in a mood.

Just when he was about to get things to go further, the teasing side of you awoke, and you placed your hand on his cheek, turning his head back to the TV. “We’re missing the best part”

“Best part!?” Henry exclaimed, playfully enraged, “I don’t even know what we’re watching!”

“Educate yourself” you joked, slapping his thigh as you stood up.

“Where are you going?” he whined, his arms flying after you.

“Just getting my phone”

“No” Henry said sternly, “Get back here, kitten”

For a second, you actually thought about it, “Nope”

“Kitten…” he said in such a menacing tone, you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

You watched his frown, and when he tilted his head to the side, his gaze begging the question, you sent him the sweetest smile you could muster, before bolting.

As you rushed out of the living room, you heard the arm chair creak, and Henry’s heavy footsteps, hot on your trail. You barely got a chance to pass the threshold of your bedroom before he reached up to you, his frame colliding against yours.

It threw you off balance, but he managed to secure an arm around your waist and keep you from falling, despite being literally inches away from the bed.

“Oh, how I love it when you ask for it, angel” his grin said everything.

With your breath cut short, you looked up at him, his hungry stare fueling the pain between your legs. Without another word, Henry wrapped his arm around your hips, and threw you on the bed, before climbing on top of you.

Forcing some of his weight on top of you, Henry had you pinned into the mattress, with no way of escaping. His satisfaction was readable on his lips, and your heart ached for the way he was looking down at you.

“What are you gonna do now, hm?” he taunted, his tone reflecting the pride he felt when he had you completely vulnerable in front of him, “cause I’m not letting you go”

Gathering your lips between your teeth, you nodded your head no, unable to hide the excitement you had running through your veins.

If he suspected it until now, this was as good of a confirmation as any. “You like it, don’t you, baby girl?” Henry smirked, moving to tease an answer out of you by kissing down your neck, “Having no power?”

Following his question, he gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head to the side, further moving on to kiss across unexplored skin.

“When I’m in control?”

You nodded a shy yes, hooking your arms around his shoulders. He hovered above you, his immense thighs forcing your legs open and blocking any way for you to try and release some of the pressure that was torturing your core. 

Arching your back from the pure pleasure his lips inflicted upon you, you tried to sneak one of your hands between your bodies, but he was quick to object.

“No, kitten” Henry grunted, pinning your arms above your head, “You do as I say. Don’t try anything, you know you have no choice. Be a good little girl for daddy, ok. Now you’re mine to do as I please”

[uwuwriting]

Zoom meetings with the kids w/ Kuroo, Akaashi and Sakusa

Request: I have been stuck inside the house with my three year old brother for the last three weeks and he keeps coming inside my room and entering the zoom call with me. So that had me thinking. How would our favorite Haikyuu dads Kuroo, Akaashi, maybe Kenma or Sakusa react to their toddlers coming into their room and joining their meeting. - anonymous. 

Awww I love haikyuu dads!!!! I have begun making the smau and I’m already like 3 chapters in but I won’t start posting until I’ve finished it or I’m about to finish it. I wanna be sure that I’ll have a trustworthy upload schedule lmao bc my midterms are coming up next week and I’m dying. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: fluff

Kuroo Tetsuro

-He was in a meeting with the firm for the past three hours. 

-He was absolutely exhausted and the only thing he wanted was to take a nap with his two year old daughter. 

-You were still at the hospital, your shift finishing in about two hours so he was basically alone.

-Your daughter was playing with her toys in his office, being as quiet as she could but exhaustion started to win her over little by little. 

-Yawn after yawn left her lips but since the sound was so small and barely above a whisper, Kuroo hadn’t realized that his little princess was tired. 

-Standing up with wobbly legs she grabbed her cat blankie and rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way to her father. 

-With one arm hugging her blankie and the other wrapping around Kuroo’s leg, she rested her head on his leg and slowly sank down to the floor, not tugging at his pyjama leg as he expected. 

-Looking down at her he didn’t think twice before bending over and bringing her into his lap. 

-She let out a small sigh before she clutched his shirt in her small fists and was off to dreamland in record time. 

- “Kuroo-san what do you think?” 

- “Sorry my daughter distracted me.”

-And with that he went back to his meeting. 

-Throughout the rest of the meeting Kuroo rested a hand on her back, cupping her little head lightly rubbing soothing circles on her skull, staring down at her every now and then a smile adorning his features every time he saw her nuzzling into his chest.

-She was a female version of him now that he thinks of it.

-She had his crazy raven hair and stunning amber eyes while her face structure reminded him of both you and him. 

-Her personality though was all you. 

-He knew she was very young but she reminded him of you when you two first met more and more each day.

-Right at that moment she let out a small yawn again, her eyes opening slightly as she repositioned herself on his lap and went back to sleep. 

-He couldn’t love her more, at least that’s what he believed. 

-Each day she proved him wrong. 

-Saying goodbye to his coworkers he shut off his computer and went to the living room couch, laying down with his little girl in his arms. 

-Giving her one last kiss he fell asleep, a smile still present on his features. 

Akaashi Keiji 

- “The author said that those new chapters need to be edited by the end of the month. He will send you the rest when you are done with these.” 

-His eyes were bloodshot from the endless hours he had been staring at his screen. 

-Rubbing his eyes he answered every single question that was thrown at him, wishing that this one would be the last one. 

-But the universe wouldn’t have it that way for poor Akaashi making him stay up late again. 

-Thunder rumbled from outside and he wondered whether or not you had taken your son to bed with you. 

-The four year old boy was terrified of storms from a young age, always looking for comfort in either you or Akaashi. 

-But ever since his sister was born he pulled away from you two, he didn’t ask for help anymore even when he needed it and he didn’t wake you up during the night when he had a nightmare.

-Akaashi was amazed to say the least. 

-Neither of you had said anything to him about how your attention would mostly be on the baby and you guys had never dismissed his needs because of your little girl. 

-It worried him how fast his son closed in on himself. 

-He was already a shy and quiet kid but now you barely heard his voice and it broke both of your hearts. 

-Akaashi was determined to help him get out of this phase and be by his side but this assignment took up more of his time than he would’ve liked. 

-Light danced across the room as the door slightly opened but no one stepped in. 

-Keiji was about to stand up when he heard little sniffles and the light pitter patter of feet on the carpet of his office. 

-And soon enough his son rounded the corner of his desk, one arm wiping away tears as the other clutched the stuffed owl his uncle Bokuto had bought him. 

-Without losing a beat Keiji pushed his chair back and brought him in his lap, giving a small apology to his boss before momentarily turning off both camera and mic. 

- “I’m sowwy.” 

- “Shh I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 

-Giving him a kiss on each cheek Akaashi let him snuggle in his chest, a strong arm supporting the toddler while simultaneously making him feel safe and protected. 

- “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but could we end it here? My son had a nightmare and I want to calm him down.” 

- “Of course Akaashi-san, give my regards to the little man. Goodnight.” 

-And with that the meeting was over and Akaashi was left with a crying child in his arms. 

- “Hey hey, I told you that nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here. Why don’t we go sleep with mommy hm?” 

- “I’m sowwy…”

-Akaashi kissed his head again bringing him into a tight hug as he got up from his seat. 

- “There is nothing to be sorry for now come on, mommy would want cuddles.” 

 Sakusa Kiyoomi

- “If we use the new quick that Atsumu and Hinata have been practicing then we would have the upper hand momentarily.”

-Kiyoomi let out a sigh as the meeting he had with the team would not seem to end. 

-They had been discussing tactics for the last hour and a half while the rest of the time they had been informed of the new managers they had been assigned. 

-Kiyoomi never expected to be in a zoom call while being an athlete.

-He thought that it would be useless. 

-What were they even gonna do while in the meeting? Practice? 

-But he was proven wrong once the coach called the first meeting and now Sakusa was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Thankfully he was just laying in bed so at least he was comfortable. 

-You had gone out for some much needed grocery shopping leaving Kiyoomi with his son, not wanting to take your child outside with the virus contaminating people left and right. 

-Sakusa loved spending time with his son. 

-He was a low maintenance child, just like he was when he was young, adopting the same hygiene patterns as his father even at the early age of two. 

-He had just started talking and you wouldn't stop having conversations with him, the baby only uttering a simply “dada” or “momma” or even maybe a “yes” or “no” if you were lucky. 

-It made you happy though, seeing your son slowly becoming more independent. 

-Sakusa was also happy but he was also reminded that he wouldn’t stay this young forever; before he knew it his son would be off to high school or college and he wouldn’t fit in his arms anymore. 

-Lost in thought Kiyoomi hadn’t seen the toddler make his way into the room until he felt the covers being pulled as he attempted to get on the bed *and failed bc he’s just too short*

-Letting out a chuckle Sakusa pushed his laptop to the side and leaned down to grab his son, who was now pouting an expression that was a little too similar to yours. 

- “Is that mini Sakusa I see?” 

-Kiyoomi ignored Atsumu as he settled his son on his lap letting the baby wave at the camera as his “uncles” waved back. 

- “Do you mind if he joins?” 

- “Of course not, every Sakusa is welcome.”

-Giving his son one last kiss on his head, Kiyoomi went back to listening to the boring tactics letting his son play with his fingers in the process. 

-Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad now 

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22

[dilfwaynes]

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf  experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name,  squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt   shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply  breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less  violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would 

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the  incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 8)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut, swearing, underage drinking, drugs 

Part Summary: Y/N must attend the dinner her parents planned. After, she and Topper attend Kelce’s party. 

A/N: not proof read bc school is life rn but I wanna keep updating. ALSO DANG TOPPER IS SPICY IN THIS!!!!

Masterlist

Your dad hands the keys over to the valet as the other Club worker opens your car door and offers you his hand. You accept, slipping out of the SUV gracefully. Rhett meets you, offering you his arm for which you take and follow him inside. 

"I can't breathe," you inhale shapely. 

"Hot?" Your brother guesses as he buttons up his blazer. 

"No, this satin dress doesn't give at all and Mom made me get a size smaller because she thought it made me look thinner," you grumble, tugging at the unforgiving fabric. 

"She's probably just trying to punish you because of the whole diabolical with Crystal," he points out. 

"Oh, I know she is, she hates that some of her and Dad's friends saw it. They wouldn't shut up about it when I got home," you whisper between the two of you as you cross the threshold into the Club. 

You stop in the lobby with your parents a few feet ahead at the hostess podium with Sarah's parents and Topper's mom. You spot Rafe at the bar with a scotch in hand, Sarah nowhere to be seen. If she managed to get out of this dinner you'll be royally pissed, mainly jealous. 

"Where were you last night anyway?" Rhett’s brows scrunch together. 

"After Topper dropped me off I went over to Sarah's," you lie without a hint of hesitation. 

"What?" He frowns in confusion. "But after lunch Rafe, Kelce, and I went back to his house? Rafe said Sarah was with that John B kid.” 

"Yeah, I picked Sarah up before you guys got there and we hung out for a little bit. After, I dropped her off at John B's," you conjure up as you go. 

"So then where did you sleep?" Rhett inquires, pressing further. 

"On Mars, Rhett!” You snap, much to your brother’s surprise. “Jesus, Mary, and the damn camel," you curse under your breath. 

"Why do you swear all of a sudden? It's not polite, especially in this setting," he hisses between his teeth, checking around for any prying eyes. 

"Because maybe I've lost my marbles or PMSing, you pick," you bite back quietly. 

"Whatever, I'm going to go grab a drink," he huffs, holding his hands up in surrender. "You should do the same," he suggests before disappearing toward the bar and lounge. 

You linger in your spot, observing your fellow Kooks go about their business in their fancy dinner attire. You honestly wonder if some of them ever leave the Club or if they keep closets in the locker rooms. 

“One gin and tonic,” Topper announces as he appears beside you with two glasses. 

“God, I love you," you mumble, taking the drink from him and immediately taking a sip. 

He rubs his hand up and down your bare arm. “You seem tense." 

“I’m practically in a corset!" You roll your eyes. 

“You look amazing,” he compliments with a charming smile. 

“Thanks...” You sigh, unsure of where you two stand. 

After this afternoon, after... well... everything said, you don't know the dynamic between you and Topper. Despite the uncertainty, you still depend on him to get you through this dinner. You feel as though your only friends at the table are Topper and Sarah, and even those two don't like each other. 

“Geez Topper...” You huff in disapproval. 

“Sorry! But you gotta admit it’s not exactly the Four Seasons...” He chuckles. 

“Hey Y/N!” Sarah greets, appearing from the bathroom. “Where did you get here?”

“Minutes ago and I’m already over it,” you grumble.

“If you need a ride to John B’s, he’s picking me up after,” she offers.

You exhale deeply, glancing between her and Topper, unsure of what to say. Yes, you have plans with JJ, but you also aren’t confident in speaking about it in front of Topper.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I might want to run home first or something,” you satisfy her and remain vague.

“Topper! Y/N! Sarah!” Your dad waves you guys over as the hostess prepares to seat you all. 

“I’ll see you guys out there, I’m going to grab a drink!” Sarah announces before dismissing herself. 

You and Topper begin toward the doors leading out to the patio, a few yards behind your families. 

“Kelce is after a party later, would you maybe wanna come with me?” Topper offers with a smirk.

“I’m supposed to..." You catch yourself before you mention JJ. "Maybe for a little bit.”

“You’re supposed to meet him?” Topper predicts correctly, making you awkwardly take a sip of your drink and avoid his gaze. “Maybe if you drink enough you’ll start seeing two and The Cut wouldn’t look like utter shit," Topper insults passive-aggressively.  

“I’ll come and have a drink, but that’s all!" You agree to go with Topper to the Kelce's reluctantly. "I don’t want anything that Rafe has up his sleeve.” 

“Noted," Topper gives you a reassuring smile.

"Wait," you halt, giving Topper's arm a slight squeeze. You feel the overwhelming need to speak with Topper for a second before you all gather around a table like one big interconnected family. "Do you know?”

“About what?” The boy frowns in confusion. You glance over at your family anxiously, watching everyone disappear onto the patio outside. Topper takes your hand in his and turns to you. “Y/N, what is it?” 

“That our parents practically have the wedding favors picked out," you rush out nervously, unable to fully believe that this is your reality. 

Topper exhales deeply, his eyes falling to the floor. He does know. “My mom has made some interesting passive comments lately," he nods. "I suspected but I wasn’t positive.” 

“My mom spoke to me before we got here," you describe, checking around the room for any eavesdroppers. "She wanted me to gloat, hang on you, and basically show the Camerons that we’re... I don’t even know...” You shake your head frantically. 

“Together,” Topper finishes your sentence. 

“It sounds so ancient but ‘promised to each other,’" you explain in greater detail. "It’s insane! I mean, we’re only in high school!” 

"You don’t have to do anything!” He comes up with a game plan to get you both through the evening. “Let’s just continue as we have been. They’ll be satisfied and we won’t be losing our willpower.” 

“Okay,” you swallow hard with a faint nod. 

“It’ll be okay," Topper reaches up and cups your cheek comfortingly, peering into your eyes. He leans forward, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

__________________________________

Well into the evening, Kelce's house is packed to the brim with teenage Kooks and some tourons that snuck their way in. Music blasts from the speakers in the ceiling and water from the pool are scattered across the tile living room. Everyone's in their bathing suits, traveling in and out of the water. Cups litter the floor and various conversations overwhelm the ears. On the balcony, you find yourself leaning against the railing watching people jump off the roof into the pool below as Topper does lines with Rafe on the coffee table just a few feet away. Your bare stomach exposed by your bikini presses against the cool glass railing, keeping you awake. 

"Come on, Princess!" Rafe waves you over, overtly intoxicated. "Got enough for you!" 

“I don’t want anything Rafe!” You remind him. 

“You will," he chuckles, not believing you for a second. "Once you start drinking you always do. You could just skip the innocent act and let yourself go.” 

Topper rises from his seated position and walks over to join you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as he leans against the rail. He sniffs a few times, making sure all of the coke remains inside. 

“One more drink and we’re leaving,” you tell Topper quietly between the two of you. 

"I know," he nods, planting a kiss on your temple. “We’ll go.” 

You turn toward, peering down at the people as they mess around in the pool. Topper stands behind you, his arms gripping the railing on either side of you. His chest presses to your back as he leans down and plants a kiss to your neck. You tilt your head to the side, granting him better access, causing him to smile against your skin. You’re not sure why you get this way with him when you drink. You’ve thought it over a million times over the years. Is it because it’s what you soberly want but are too afraid to admit? Or, is it because it’s a way to let go? Either way, you and Topper become insufferable whenever you two get too deep, which why you refuse to do anything. If you get any deeper... well... Bermuda is a prime example. 

1 hour later.... 

The drinks slip by you and you quickly lose track of the number. Tequila shots, margarita mix, gin, and coke, everything's mixed. The music has become louder, the colored lights have become brighter, your senses are doing their best to remain active, but your mind is fading. You love this feeling, not having a care in the world. The weight that your parents have placed on your shoulders has long disappeared. Half an hour ago, you and Topper were sharing a joint with Kelce on the roof and now you two are caught in a beer pong tournament.You're slowly starting to lose interest in the game, eager to jump off the roof into the pool as you've seen daredevils do all night. 

"Come on, Top! Please!" You tug on the boy's arm, pleading with him again to jump off the roof with you. 

He does his best to focus on the game at hand, the ball in his hand to take a shot. He squeezes your hand and brings it to his lips for a quick peck. "One second, Baby." 

Drunkenly, you rest your forehead against his bicep, waiting for him to take his shot. Topper tosses the ball, making it into the final cup and the rules call for no redemption. 

“We win!” Topper cheers, causing you to lift your head. Again! The champions!” 

“Woohoo!” You giggle, raising your cup in the air.

Topper wraps his arms around your waist and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he spins you. He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jawline as he peers up at you. Staring into his eyes, you two are so immersed in each other that you get carried away and your lips meet. Neither of you is in the right mind to comprehend it, but this is a pattern. You two get intoxicated on a mixture of alcohol and drugs and your natural touchy friendship gets an intensity boost. 

Kelce whistles at the sight of you, urging you guys on. “They act like they’re not together, then they do that!” He not so well whispers to Rafe. 

"Same shit, different night," Rafe grumbles, clearly jealous. He silently wishes he was Topper. He would give anything to have a chance with you. “I wonder how Rhett would feel learning his sister is a slut for his best friend.” 

Kelce shoves him on the shoulder. “Don’t be an ass. Besides, Rhett knows Topper has a thing for her.” 

“But does Y/N have a thing for him or is it just sex?” Rhett challenges, watching you two and hating it. 

Topper lets you down as your lips part. His hands slip down your waist to rest on your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You bite down on your lower lip, your attention on Topper's smirk.  

“Hey Top!" Rafe pulls Topper's attention and tosses him a metal canister. "For you my friend!" 

Topper pops open the old Altoids container to reveal a pile of color tabs. "Aw no," Topper laughs, tossing his head back. 

“Woah woah woah!" You place your hand over Topper's before has the chance to even think about taking anything. You glare at Rafe, "what is that?” 

“Candy,” Rafe snickers sarcastically. He rises from his seat position and stands before you, taking the tin from Topper. “Here take one," the boy offers with raised brows.  

You push the container back to Rafe. “No, I said I didn’t want to do anything tonight!” 

Beside you, Topper reaches into the container, selects a square piece carefully with the provided tweezers, and places the rainbow paper on his tongue. 

“Try it, Princess,” Rafe pressures with a smirk. 

You glance between Rafe and Topper. The blonde gives you a wink. "You'll feel good," he assures you, rubbing his hand up and down your spine slowly. 

You think it over for a second to the best of your ability. You said you wouldn't do anything hard tonight, but you also don't want to sober up anytime soon. You feel too good. You wish you felt this way all the time. You love yourself when you're carefree. On a whim, you give in and pick up the tweezers to select a piece. You place the bit on your tongue, earning a mischievous smirk from Rafe and words from approval from Topper. You don't know much about what Rafe does, but you know from watching that it takes a while for stuff like this to kick in, so you wait. 

Thirty minutes later... 

After taking swim minutes ago, you and Topper seek some privacy away from the party antics to dry off. You two travel up to the third floor of the house in the dark, this part of the house practically untouched by the people below. You shuffle along the floor in the hall in search of the balcony. You nearly trip of the runner, but Topper catches you by the waist. 

“Oh shit!” You gasp. Abruptly, Topper squats down and tucks his arm under your legs. You fly up and he begins to carry you bridal style. “Topper!” You giggle. 

“Like a proper princess, let me carry you up the tower!” He jokes. 

“You’re ridiculous!” You laugh as Topper navigates his way through Kelce's room toward the screen door leading outside. 

You tilt your head back, letting your hair flow as Topper carries you out onto the balcony. The night breeze and salty scent of the ocean fill your senses. Whatever Rafe gave you is immaculate. You've never felt so connected to the world before. Suddenly, Topper releases you, letting you fall onto one of those massive round loungers with a squeal. You lay back onto the lounger, pondering the sensation of the soft fabric beneath you. 

“You’re exquisite,” Topper admires, towering over you with a gawking look on his face. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows with a smirk. "You too." 

Topper plops down beside you, sliding to be close to your side. His fingertips glide up and down your arm. “How are you feeling?” 

Your eyes fall shut with a grin. “Like I’m on a cloud," you describe in a whisper as you ponder the sensation of his warm fingers on your cool skin. “You feel on fire. So warm...” 

“Do you like it?” He asks in a whisper and you can feel the warm breath wave over your cheek. 

You hum, focusing on every detail of his touch. You exhale deeply as Topper brushes his lips across your collar bone and planting a kiss on your skin. 

“Do you regret us?” He whispers. You don't see it, but Topper watches you intently with a softly broken expression. He hopes you don't. God, does he want to beg you to be his, only his. 

You shake your head, breathless. "No." 

Glad to say the least, Topper moves his attention to your neck, kissing and sucking hard on the sensitive skin. His hand roams your waist down to your inner thigh, making you inhale sharply. Your back arches off the lounger and toward his hand between your legs. You crave to feel more of him. 

“Are you sure?” He checks quietly in your ear. 

“Yes,” you exhale, too overwhelmed by the pleasure growing inside you to focus on his questions. 

As you kisses Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel. Topper's lips travel down from your jawline to your chest. The memories of winter break, Bermuda, every intense moment you and Topper have ever shared are your driving force right now. As Topper leaves a trail of affection down your collarbone to your chest, he begins to untie your bikini. Then, your thoughts fixate on JJ. His face flickers across your mind. Physically, you want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. You wonder where he is, what he's doing, if he's thinking about you. 

You're so far into your own thoughts that your body goes through the motions subconsciously. You're partially distracted by your thoughts of JJ, but the drugs and alcohol also cloud your mind. You're not entirely sure how things escalated, but deep down you're not shocked. It's you and Topper, you've never been fully satisfied when it comes to one another. You can't help but to feel everything, pondering the glorious and overwhelming pleasure as Topper thrusts into you. 

You bite down on her lip, restricting yourself from accidentally whispering JJ’s name. “Topper,” you pant, focusing. 

“Say it again, Beautiful,” Topper pants, planting a kiss to your chest as he picks up his pace. 

“Please Topper,” you whisper breathlessly. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he grunts, finding himself getting closer with each syllable leaving your lips. 

Topper is your greatest addiction. He’s everything you're supposed to want. He’s utterly devoted to you and secretly you crave his attention. You roll your hips, making him go deeper inside of you, much to his surprise. 

“Fuck Y/N,” he moans in your ear. 

“Holy shit,” you mutter uncontrollably. 

“You always feel so good," Topper swallows hard. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” 

Your nails graze down his back, knowing how much he loves that. “Keep going, I’m so close,” you plead, needing him closer though you know that's impossible. 

“That’s it, Beautiful," Topper guides. "Cum for me,” he demands more than requests. 

“Yes, Topper!" You moan, chasing the high. "Yes!” 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Topper whispers against the skin of your neck and planting a kiss on your jawline. 

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. The moment is intimate and draws you two together. You nod, staring into his eyes. “Cum for me." 

You feel Topper finish inside you, a sensation you've experienced almost a dozen times, but it's never enough. Knowing that you can make Topper feel so free and satisfied sometimes keeps you awake at night. Topper  settles down on the lounger next to you, panting. 

You glance at one another, meeting each other's gaze as you catch your breath. You two laugh, in disbelief of what just occurred. 

“Wow!” Topper chuckles. 

You raise your brows, in awe. “I know." 

“And I thought we wouldn’t outdo Bermuda,” he recalls. 

“I swear Bermuda was the Twilight Zone or something," you giggle. "I only remember flashes of it.”

Topper's eyes grow wide and he places his hand over yours. “Do you remember when we found Rafe with that Brazilian chick!” 

“Oh my God!" You gasp, turning onto your side to face him. "They were on that nasty leather couch that Kelce spilled the grenadine all over!” 

“We were off our asses most of the time,” Topper remembers, pulling you into his side. His arm wraps around you like a protective blanket. 

“Facts, we didn’t see Rafe or Kelce for most of it," you add with a snicker. "I think my brother slept out by the pool every night." 

“I honestly don’t even remember Rhett after the plane landing," Topper confesses, his eyes flicker up to the stary sky. "Plane lands, a week goes by no recollection of Rhett, see Rhett on the plane.” 

“You’re kidding!” You gasp. 

“Dead serious! I swear we left him at the airport,” Topper elaborates with a wide grin. 

“He carried you home from the bar that third night!” You remind him. 

His eyes grow wide, utterly surprised. “I thought that was you!” 

“How could it have been me?!” You swiftly counter, laughing harder than you have in a while. 

“That’s why I was so confused!” He reasons. 

“You’re insane!” You struggle to say between fits of laughter. 

You two share in your laughter, not having had a moment like this in a while. You guys have had so much going on that the last time you truly felt at peace together and free to let go was Bermuda. Had you known that coming home would've meant the end of your two's peace of mind, you're not sure if you would've left. You rest your cheek against his chest, settling in comfortably. 

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us this way,” he confesses softly. 

“I forgot how good it could be,” you admit with a content smile. 

 Topper glides his fingertips up and down your spine. “Well, I guess that proves it then.” 

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest to meet his gaze. “Proves what?” 

“It’s JJ,” Topper sighs, giving you a knowing look. 

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Swiftly, you shuffle through your memories of minutes before, did you say JJ's name? You're almost certain you didn't. You did everything in your power not to. “What do you mean?” 

“I can tell," he shrugs, bringing a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. "It felt great but also different than before. I knew when I had you. I don’t anymore.” 

Your eyes fall to your hand resting on his chest, avoiding his gaze. He caresses your cheek lovingly, despite knowing the truth. “I’m sorry, Topper...” you mumble, full of guilt. 

“It’s okay," he tries to reassure you. "You can love two people at the same time, just in their own way.” 

"I just..." you sit up, frustrated and unable to fully put into words what you're struggling with. Topper sits up beside you, rubbing your back. "When I'm with JJ I'm this one person and when I'm with you I'm completely different! I'm not sure which one is the real me." 

"You don't have to have all answers, just take it day by day," he advises reasonably. "Right now, let's just forget everything else and be here. Nothing can bother us here." 

You exhale deeply and Topper guides you to lay back down. You two stare up at the sky in each other's arms, the faint sounds of the party below not invading either of your minds. The warm night's air breezes by, coating you in a shield of peace. 

“Do you think ten years from now we’ll still be doing this?” Topper wonders. 

“Kinda wanna be married by then,” you giggle. 

“I know, I’d be your side hoe,” he clarifies. 

You swat him on the arm. “Topper!” 

“What!” He laughs. 

“You can’t plan on cheating on your future wife!” You argue playfully. 

“But it’s you, you don’t count!" He reasons. "It’s the Y/N Hall Pass. My wife is wife, obviously my life partner, but you’re... well you’re you," he adds gently, unsure how to describe it. 

“Wow, that’s real flattering,” you joke. 

“You know what I mean!" He rolls his eyes but struggles to hide his amusement. "You know that movie you made me watch last month uh... My Best Friend’s Wedding!” He remembers. You hum, of course, you do, you love that movie. Topper continues, “well, you’re my Julia Roberts.” 

“You want me to try to break up your wedding?” You question, wondering where he's going with this. 

“No, no! Well... if you really think she’s not the one but that’s beside the point," he shakes his head. "I’m talking about what Cameron Diaz said in that elevator scene.” 

“He’s got you on a pedestal and me in his arms,” you quote, predicting his intention. 

Topper tucks his finger under your chin, making you lift your head to meet his gaze. His eyes pour into yours with such intensity, you know he means whatever he's going to say with the utmost certainty. “No one can compete with you, Y/N. Whoever I end up marrying, if I end marrying anyone, they’ll have to be okay that.” 

You lean forward, gently pressing a kiss to Topper's lips. You're not sure if it'll be your last one, but either way, it reminds you of a farewell or closing note. Topper deepens the kiss, bringing his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in. It carries more passion and longing than any other kiss you two have shared, and you've kissed a lot over the years. 

After a couple of minutes under the stars, you and Topper agree that it's time to return to the party before anyone comes searching for you. 

"Wasn't a bad last hoorah if you ask me," Topper concludes as he helps you tie up your top. 

You spin on your heels to face him, bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders. "We really went out with a bang, pun intended." 

"If he ever breaks your heart, I'm first in line," he winks, bringing his hands to your waist. 

You lift your hand to his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. "I want you to be happy, even if that's not with me." 

He scoffs, holding back his emotions. "Why does it feel like we're breaking up?" He tries to laugh it off. 

"In a way, we are..." You admit, causing Topper to look at you with surprise. He hadn't expected you to agree, though deep down, he hoped you would. 

He slips his head to the side and presses a kiss to your palm before lowering your hand to rest within his. "I'm slowly coming to terms that it may not be you, though I always imagined it was. I sorta feel like I'm starting from scratch. Whenever I envisioned my future, it was with you. Now, the face is blank. I have no idea what's going to happen," he confesses with a breathless laugh, a hint of worry behind the sound. 

"How exciting!" You encourage. 

"Always the optimist," Topper chuckles, before draping an arm across your shoulders and guiding you toward the doors. "Us ending up together would've been too easy anyway. I hate being predictable," he frowns in disgust. 

"Agreed, far too simple," you nod. 

Topper pauses before the door leading out to the hallway. Once you two leave the safety of the third floor, this time you've had alone will be over. Things will never be the same once you close this chapter. Topper peers down at you, longing to tell you. “You know I’ll always be there for you, right?” 

You nod slowly, certain of his words. “Me too, Topper.” 

He leans down, planting a long kiss on your forehead and you can feel the struggle behind the action. Everything about this is bittersweet. “I love you." 

“I love you too," you whisper. 

_________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:@starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things  @hockeybabe87​ @jolomez​ @plutooryectors 

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

after the day I’ve had I want to borrow ghostrry, he can just sit there and let me rant about things he doesn’t understand then he’ll beg me to turn on my mini computer device so we can watch tik tok videos together

tbh ghostrry is as good as dead (a second time) bc there's other more promising fic ideas at play sO!!! here have this snippet of a scene of him judging a guy Y/N brings home

“Is his dick big?” Harry circles around the stranger with one arm crossed over his stomach, elbow propped on his wrist as his chin rests between his thumb and forefinger. He studies the young man intently, stopping beside him. “Cause his face definitely isn’t the reason you’re keeping him.”

Y/N gives him a quick, dangerous glance as her date continues chatting, completely unaware of the ghost standing right beside him checking him out.

Harry rounds all the way to the opposite side of the young man's body, eyes trailing down his back and halting three-fourths of the way down. His eyebrows suddenly jolt upwards as his lips purse in mild surprise. He hums deep in the back of his throat, the sound one of understanding. “He’s got a nice arse, I’ll give him that.”

“Oh, you know what?” Y/N fakes an apologetic smile towards her company, flashing her eyes at Harry in another warning. “I actually forgot to set the timer for dinner. I'll be right back, okay?”

She sprints up from her seat on the couch, darting into the kitchen before Daniel can even get the chance to respond.

Harry appears sitting on the counter, a smug look on his face as he leans back against his palms, tapping his fingers to the tune of the music she has playing in the living room. “He’s got decent assets, but his personality seems to be a bit lackluster.”

“Stop it!” She hisses, shooting daggers at him from across the kitchen, making sure to keep her voice low so that her guest won’t overhear. “I’m trying to have a nice time, and you keep interrupting. Aren’t you the one who always says I need to get laid?”

“Yeah, that was before I knew what a terrible taste you have in men.” Harry snorts humorously, but he can’t keep the bitter undertone from registering just beneath his snarky remark. “You’re better off using that rabbit vibrator you’re so fond of.”

“You’re so— wait, what?” Y/N’s face breaks into a horrified expression of embarrassment. “How do you even know about that?”

“I go through your stuff sometimes when I’m bored.” Harry shrugs nonchalantly, as if this confession is perfectly normal. He swings his legs back and forth over the edge of the counter, his calves disappearing and reappearing through the wooden cabinets below. “And I like your red lace lingerie set, by the way. Very classy.”

Y/N feels heat flood her face as a conceited grin spreads over Harry’s. “What did I say about boundaries?!”

“Well, you weren’t here when I did it, so you wouldn’t have known about it unless I told you!” He reasons passionately, waving a hand dismissively. “Plus, even if I hadn’t gone through your stuff, it’s not like you’re necessarily quiet when you use it. This place has thin walls, love, and you’ve got quite the set of pipes.”

Y/N plops her head into her palms, rubbing down her face to try and get rid of the boiling in her cheeks. “Christ, I’d kill you if I could.”

The ghost makes a mocking pouty face at his housemate, which slowly breaks into another conceited smirk. “S’alright, darling, I’m not complaining. Your moans are quite pretty, actually.”

“Thanks.” Y/N deadpans, glaring at him from between the cracks of her fingers. “But I’d prefer it if Daniel is the only one hearing them tonight, so if you could just pop out real quick onto the balcony for an hour or so, that would be—”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re actually going to sleep with him?” Harry asks incredulously, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the other room, where the unsuspecting boy is waiting for his host’s return. “That guy? With the patchy beard and wet napkin charisma?”

“That's the plan, if you’d stop getting in the way.”

“Oh my God, that’s just—that’s a tragedy. He's such a bore. And a fucking business major, of all things!”

“You don’t even know him!” Y/N argues hotly, resisting the urge to reach for the wooden spoon on the counter to try and smack Harry with it. It won’t do her any real justice since it’ll go right through him, but perhaps the intention behind it would make her feel better.

“Don’t have to, I can just tell.” Harry laughs darkly as he jerks his head in disapproval. “I bet you five bucks he lasts less than five minutes.”

“You don’t have money. You’re dead.”

“Fine. Let’s bet on something else, then.” Harry’s eyes twinkle mischievously as he gives her a suggestive once-over. “If Double-Pump Daniel over there lasts less than five minutes, you have to stop wearing bras around the house for the next two weeks. If he does— by some miracle— last longer than that, I won’t say another word about any guy you bring over ever again. And I’ll stay out of your hair entirely every time you do.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, her face twisting in disgust. “You’re a fucking pervert.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Harry props his palms further against the fake marble counter, boosting himself off and landing on the ground without the slightest noise. He paces over to Y/N, his closer proximity intensifying the inherent chill that always lingers wherever he goes. He braces his elbows against the kitchen island and plops his chin down on his hand, batting his lashes up at her innocently. “I haven’t gotten laid in ages, for obvious reasons—“

“Yeah, because you’re a prick.”

Harry ignores her dig. “— and the last person that stayed here was this old stuffy geezer whose tits weren’t nearly as perky as yours. I need a bit of action, even if I can’t feel anything, and you’re as good as it’s ever gonna get for me.”

“Wow, so charming.” Y/N spits back with an indignant laugh. “I bet you had girls just lining up behind you back in the eighties, huh?”

Harry’s lips twitch. “Had them lining up in front of me, is more like it. And they never left unsatisfied.” He juts his chin towards where Y/N is impatiently clicking her nails against the polished counter. “Satisfied one right there where you’re standing, actually. The dulled edge makes it an ideal place to bend someone over.”

Y/N stumbles back, gagging in revolt, though there’s a prickling running across the pit of her stomach that feels like something very different. “I literally hate you.”

“So what do you say?” Harry kinks an eyebrow curiously, glancing down at her lips for a second. The action is so quick, she would have missed it if she hadn’t been paying adamant attention. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and it’ll make things more interesting around here; I need something to get me through the next hundred years or so.” He gives her a set of pleading eyes so mesmerizing that she has no problem believing he definitely had girls falling head over heels for him back when he was alive. “What’s a little bit of nipple, anyways, for a poor, tortured, very attractive soul?”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Rekindling

Part Two of The Necklace (2/3)

Read Part One Here

Obi-Wan x Reader (f)

Warnings: none; fluff and angst 

Word Count: 1.4k

Based on this Request:

“If you still need that inspiration... maybe an obi-wan thing where he makes the reader a beautiful necklace when they were young padawans and they get separated bc reader goes om a long mission but when they meet again as adults she still wears it and then he confesses his feelings (a bit of anakin teasing his master about his obvious feelings sprinkled in perhaps😂)”

A/N: Like part one, parts in italics are flashbacks! Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you like Part Two! Thanks again to @katevino for the request!

My tags are also now open for anyone who would like to be added! Also my requests are currently open!

Part three will be posted Thursday and will contain smut so this can be read as a two part fic or a three part fic. This one reads like it can be the end even though there is another part coming!

“When are you leaving?” he asked you, tears threatening to fall as they filled the corners of his eyes.

“Tomorrow morning,” you reply unable to meet his gaze so you keep your eyes fixed on the pattern of the tiles on the floor.

“How long will you be gone?” he sniffles, looking back up to you. He puffs out his chest slightly, like he’s trying to prevent strength and you don’t know if that’s for your or his sake.

“Indefinitely,” you respond after a sharp intake of breath to steady your breathing. “Master Yoda said it’s more like a relocation than one mission. I’m to accompany my Master as he is needed on Alderaan. Obi-Wan, I don’t have a choice.”

You weren’t children anymore, and it was so incredibly foolish of you both to have allowed your feelings to overcome you both this way. He had only just returned from Tatooine, the Jedi Consul meeting with Qui Gon-Jinn and the boy they brought back as the two of you spoke. Silent looks of desperation and sadness exchanged between the two of you. You were already torn apart once, and now just as he returns back to you, you are being sent away again.

“Let’s run away together,” he says suddenly, taking your hands.

“Obi-Wan…”

“We can leave the Order,” he begins quickly, letting his emotions completely take control. “We can move far away from here and just be together. We can get married, and just not have to hide anything. I want you, and I always have. I’d leave right now if you wanted. I care more about you than anything else in this lifetime. We can go to Naboo- I know you said you’d always wanted to visit and I promise you it’s beautiful.”

“Obi-Wan,” you say shaking your head, cutting him off. You keep your eyes closed tightly, trying to keep tears from spilling uncontrollably. “No.”

He sighs, but his breath is so shaky. You both are trying your best to find composure. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, resting his forehead against your own.

“I’m going to miss you,” you say, and you just now realize there is a steady stream of tears rolling down your cheeks.

“(Y/N), please,” Obi-Wan says, not entirely sure what he is even asking as he lifts his thumb to your cheek to wipe away the tears.

“We dedicated ourselves to the Jedi Order,” you say, trying to talk yourself out of his plan that you so desperately just wanted to surrender to. “Obi-Wan, we have been so incredibly blinded by our emotions. How can we allow ourselves to be so selfish as the galaxy is faced with the possibility of war?”

“I suppose you’re right darling,” he sighs. You both had responsibilities that weighed more important than your own personal tragedy.

“You should do your best to forget about me,” you struggle to say, stepping back from his embrace. “We should move forward from here like nothing ever- we never happened. Focus and commit to the code we pledged to uphold. It was all a mistake.”

“Darling, loving you was never a mistake.”

And with that, you were gone. Unable to bear being near him for another moment. It was too painful.

It had been ten years since you had last been at the Jedi Temple. As you navigate the halls to find your sleeping quarters, you notice the feeling of home you once felt here no longer existed for you. Perhaps that feeling all those years ago was Obi-Wan, you wonder. Finding your quarters, you survey the emptiness of the room. It was so incredibly sparce, and you imagine how you would decorate it if time permitted you to stay.

You feel uneasy, the Temple now feeling foreign to you when it was once the only place you had ever known. You remember back to that last conversation with him and how miserably you failed to forget and overcome your feelings. You wondered if Obi-Wan had been more successful. He must have, you think, you know Obi-Wan very well and he always excelled in areas of the Force you struggled with. You try your best to let the thoughts of him slip away to the back of your mind and try to get settled.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and Anakin were just returning back to the Temple. Anakin ruthlessly pestering Obi-Wan with questions.

“I think she is still in love with you, Master,” Anakin said with a grin, happy he was successful in making Obi-Wan flustered. “I sensed something when you two were talking.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, “I must insist you stop bringing up these theories of yours.”

“They aren’t theories, Master,” Anakin chuckles, shaking his head at Obi-Wan. “And deep down you know I’m right.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, crossing his arms, thinking on how to respond to Anakin. “Anakin, it was over ten years ago. You need to put this to rest.”

“You need to stop running from your feelings, Master.”

“I wasn’t the one who ended things,” he says, exasperated. “She was the one who was stronger than me- she always has been. Now, please, don’t bring her up again.”

“I’m sorry Master,” Anakin says earnestly.

“It’s okay,” he replies with a sad smile. “It’s nothing more than reuniting with an old friend.”

“Of course.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Obi-Wan says, noticing how Anakin is saddened.

“I only care about your happiness, Master,” Anakin replies, the conversation finalized.

Obi-Wan walked back to his quarters, still overcome with memories of what feels like a past life with you. His thoughts weigh heavy as they shift to the realization that you are finally here. How much he longed for a day when you’d return home to him. Now that you were here, and he could feel your presence echoing in the halls again, he found himself disappointed. He spent years hopelessly wishing for you to come back, and the circumstances now add to the harsh realization those hopes will always be just that.

He was meditating when you arrived at his door. The tension in the air between the two of you was heavy as he watched you look around his room. You were just taking a moment to observe what he had on display, the mementos allowing you to form some kind of narrative of the life he’s led since you’d last seen him.

“I’m really happy to be back,” you say finally, your voice cutting through the weighted atmosphere. He pondered his conversation with Anakin. He was so quick to dismiss Anakin’s observation and now he feels a pull at his heart as he wishes that Anakin is correct.

“How do you like it on Alderaan?” he asks, holding his hands behind his back. Part of him genuinely wanted to hear about your mission and the specialty of your work, but it was more of a stall tactic to avoid the actual questions he was dying to ask you.

“It’s not home, but I like it fine,” you smile, looking back to him. Your heart feeling like it’s beating faster than it ever has before. The social niceties and the catching up questions were killing you inside. Your mind was scrambled and you frantically tried to find more to say. You could only think about him, and how he was finally right there in front of you. Looking at you the same way he always had.

“It’s a shame you cannot stay longer,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes looking nervously down on the floor before meeting your gaze again. “I wish we had more time… Oh, (Y/N), things ended so terribly when I last saw you. I feel heartsick thinking about it. I tried to find you the next day, give you a proper goodbye but you had already gone.”

“That was my doing,” you admit, looking down at your feet as he takes a few daring steps closer to you. “I knew if I had saw you again, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

“Oh darling,” he whispers softly, pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrap around you tightly, the familiar warmth of his chest helping to calm you. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying until you felt the dampness of his tunic against your cheek. You rested your hands gently on his chest as he held you tightly, resting his chin on your head.

This feels like home, you say to yourself, the wave of anxieties and clutter in your mind vanishing at his touch. You could stay there just like that forever. Years you spent struggling with your thoughts and emotions, only ever just making them worse, and the one thing you needed was just to be with him- and it was all just so painstakingly clear.

“I’m not leaving you again,” you whisper softly.

Taglist:

@blackirisposts​

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues

oh, deer

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none for this chapter, vague foreshadowing

ship: dousy (daisy johnson x daniel sousa), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

heyyyyy…. yes i posted it early on Ao3

howeverrr you guys are gonna like this chapter. i just feel it in my bones (bc its fluffy and the angst starts kicking in in the next one)

“You look like Rudolph, Daisy,” Elena greeted.

Daisy took a large swig of coffee, rolling her eyes but smirking. The pair were walking together to Elena’s first class after a tough early-morning spar.

“You’re the one who punched me where I already had a bruise,” Daisy shot back.

“Hey, I already told you I was aiming for the jaw. It’s not my fault you didn’t duck quick enough.”

They laughed as Elena swiped her key card to the comms building. Daisy held the door for Elena, shoving her lightly in the back as she passed.

“Hey!”

“Not my fault you can’t see backwards,” Daisy teased.

It was Elena’s turn to roll her eyes and laugh, slowing to a stop outside May’s lecture room.

“Right. Wish me luck, I heard May was giving a pop quiz today,” Elena grimaced.

“You don’t need any luck. I’ll see ya, Elena,” Daisy replied.

“Yeah, you will!” Elena said, backing into May’s large lecture room.

Daisy watched her wave and sit down with a group of third-years, her perfect french braids swishing behind her, before turning around. Daisy didn’t have a moment to think about where she was going before she ran into a solid wall.

Daisy looked up into a pair of dark chocolate eyes, crinkled at the edges with a small smile. The wall’s hair was ruffled, as if he had just gotten out of bed. He wore black SHIELD sweats and a white t-shirt. The wall was very attractive. She vaguely registered the smattering of books on the ground, her mind more focused on his hands on her shoulders.

“Daisy, are you okay?”

She must have been staring for too long. “Yeah, I’m good! Great! Sorry, Sousa,” she apologized, quickly bending over to pick up his books. She almost dropped them again when his hand brushed hers while she handed the thick textbooks back. She gave him a quick smile, taking a deep breath to compose herself, reciting her affirmations. I am Daisy Johnson. I am an Agent of SHIELD. I can move the Earth. I am powerful. I am in control of myself.

Daniel’s smile grew a bit when he heard Daisy laughing quietly to herself.

“I guess you could say I really swept you off your feet.”

Daniel chuckled at the quip, his hands still on her shoulders. “Yeah. Foot,” Daniel corrected. Daisy furrowed her brows, but ignored the strange comment.

“Right. Well, the bell—” Daisy was cut off by a long, high-pitched bell. She closed her eyes tight, the blaring alarm causing tiny vibrations to travel through her skull. When she opened them, Daniel was still standing in front of her, white tee and black sweats and messy morning hair encouraging just a bit more flirting before he had to leave.

“Wow, look at you. Late! I’m a bad influence on you, Danny.”

Daniel shrugged, glancing at his watch. “S’not the first time,” he murmured lowly, stepping away and giving her a last look before he disappeared into the classroom.

Daisy pretended not to notice her heart rate had risen from it’s usual sixty beats-per-minute to seventy-six beats-per-minute.

Daisy spent the rest of the day absentmindedly completing work in her classes. For some reason, flirting with Daniel felt… different than it had with her exes. Even her exes in SHIELD. Daniel was grounded. He had a calm presence. Being late didn’t phase him in the slightest; Daisy would have internally berated herself for the rest of the day.

She was finishing a short answer assignment from International Law and SHIELD Policy while stretching on the outdoor training grounds when she saw him again: still in sweats despite the heat. He was still walking with same, familiar limp. Then it clicked—’Foot’; the throwaway comment from earlier made much more sense now. He had a prosthetic. Before she could think anymore about that revelation, May called the Ops trainees to gather around her under a giant maple tree. Daisy was the last to get up, hanging towards the back as usual.

“Ops training, eh?”

Sousa turned to Daisy standing beside him, breaking his focus on May to turn to her. “Yeah. I used to be military, remember? 28th Infantry Recon Scout. I figure I’ve got to get at least near the level I used to be before I can go in the field.”

Daisy nodded, her hair caught in a slight breeze. “As long as you don’t steal my crown as the Queen of Spar, Master of Field Ops Physical Training.”

Daniel chuckled quietly, turning his attention back to May, who was explaining today’s exercises.

“Partners,” Daisy breathed. Daisy hated partners, unless it was May. She’d rather condition. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the other trainees, they were great people! But her nerves got the better of her and she ended up holding back, not helping herself or her partner. She knew how to control her powers, how to keep herself from using them while sparring. Whispers of doubt and guilt still invaded, fogging her mind like deadly mist.

You could kill them. It’s happened before…

She was taken back to the moment by Daniel tapping her shoulder. “Partners?”

Daisy reluctantly nodded and motioned to him to follow her over to a thick pad of grass next to a small willow tree.

“So, what exactly are we supposed to be doing? It’s Tuesday, which is usually a mix of breathing and nerve control and focusing on technique, rather than strength.”

Daniel glanced over at the other partners, who were all going through defensive and offensive stances slowly, like tai chi, he thought.

Daisy walked closer to where he had stopped beside the willow, pointing out a pair of partners moving almost in sync.

“They’re focusing on how their breathing can help their fighting. Mentally and physically. If you’re nervous, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and then your body gets sloppy. If you aren’t breathing, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and your body gets sloppy. Breath can make a punch more powerful and a kick more accurate, if you know how to use it. I’ll show you the moves.”

Defensive, offensive, block, strike, block, kick. Daisy continued in a cycle until Sousa could mirror her movements with little effort.

Daisy stopped him then. “Great! You’re a quick learner,” She winked, smiling wide.

Daniel smiled back, “So how do I do the breathing thing?”

Daisy pondered how to explain it for a second. “You have to flow, like water. You control your breathing, you have the power. But at the same time, you have to let the air flow naturally. The moves will align with your breath, don’t force it.”

Daniel nodded, and they were off. It took a minute to get into the groove, but once he did, it felt effortless. Every kick, block, inhale and turn, exhale and strike came naturally. It gave him the opportunity to study Daisy.

Usually, especially in the early mornings in the computer lab, Daisy looked tired. Her brows were drawn slightly, fingers fidgeting, knee bouncing. In the halls she walked briskly and adjusted her bag or checked her watch often, a small tic she didn’t seem to notice. Right now, though, breeze across her olive skin, Daisy looked cool as water.

She felt the earth beneath her. The trees and grass and flowers in the wind. She tuned in to the radio of her surroundings, letting her muscle memory guide her. The forest was really loud. The concrete buildings had a sort of buzz, too. They mixed in her bones like the sounds of a great symphony, low rumbles and high-pitched chittering and long, constant notes that provided a harmony to the undulating melody. The frequencies of each living and non-living thing in the area seemed to be flowing around her, steady.

Daniel softly stared at her as she moved through the flow with him. She was very good at this. He was having a bit of trouble, though he doubted he would be having this much trouble if it wasn't Daisy right in front of him. For an exercise designed to relax them, wasn’t it counterintuitive to partner with the girl that made his heart skip a beat when she smiled?

When May clapped her hands and signaled the end of the session, the tired, sweaty kids gathered around May’s oak tree. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, bringing a glow to each of their faces. Daisy looked radiant.

“Class is dismissed. Tomorrow, we’re conditioning,” May warned. In a quieter voice, May called, “Daisy, can you hang for a second?”

Daisy stepped away from her bag and towards May. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I have a question for you. Would you mind giving up your free period three times a week?”

Daisy’s eyebrows raised, no classes that she knew of only took place three times a week. “I want to say yes, but I’d also like to know why?”

“Fair. Top brass called. If you want to be a field agent with powers, you’ve got to practice fighting with them, get comfortable with them. I know everything that happened with Lincoln…” May paused, gauging Daisy’s reaction. When there wasn’t any, May continued. “Your powers didn’t make you an agent, I did.”

May paused, giving Daisy a chance to settle her thoughts before adding, “But I think this is important.”

Daisy slowly nodded. If this was important to May, then Daisy had no problems giving up her free period.

“Who will I train with?” she asked.

May smiled. “Meet Yo-Yo and I behind the garage at seven sharp tomorrow morning.΅

Daisy saluted playfully, wandering to her bag and walking in the direction the other students had gone. She could see them filtering into the cafeteria. A smoothie sounded nice…

The canteen was full of students grabbing plates of chicken and veggie tacos. Daisy was always happy during dinner on taco Tuesday. She grabbed her plate and a small green juice and searched for a familiar pair of heads, warm brown eyes and freckles sitting next to dirty blonde curls.

As she approached, two hands went up, waving. Weaving her way through students, she saw Fitz pat the seat beside him.

“Oi, Dais! I've got something to show you!”

Daisy sat down, her attention drawn to the tiny device on the table in front of her. It was small enough to fit in her hand, but surprisingly heavy for its size. Multiple coloured wires stuck out from various surfaces. Fitz was grinning at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He pressed a button on a small remote that sat on the table. Daisy looked over at Jemma, puzzled. Was something supposed to be happening?

Daisy glanced down at her hand. There was nothing there but a constant weight.

“Fitz! You replicated cloaking!”

Jemma and Fitz immediately shushed her, looking around. “He wasn’t supposed to! It’s above his ‘level’. Professor Weaver practically forbid him.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. This was very Fitz. Tell him he can’t, and he will, just to prove it to himself. Holding it up to eye level and moving it around, Daisy marveled at the seamless invisibility. “What are you gonna do with it?”

Fitz shrugged. He began to explain a number of uses for the device, along with the technical modifications he’d have to make for them to work. She tuned out after Jemma exasperatedly told him they couldn’t train monkeys to be invisible recon scouts.

Her plan to learn something from Fitzsimmons banter was derailed when Daisy noticed a shadow at the corner of her eye. It slipped away as quickly as it came, around the corner of the cafeteria and out of sight.

Why was she getting déjà vu?

“Dais, you alright there?” Fitz asked quietly.

Daisy turned back to him, smiling. “Yeah, I thought I saw something. Probably just tired.”

The sandy blonde boy laughed, “S’only Tuesday, Dais. We’ve got a whole week ahead of us!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ve got six tests this week!” Simmons countered.

Daisy’s mouth opened in surprise, quickly shut when Fitz made a comment about catching flies. “Wait, so you aren’t excited for the tests?”

Jemma shook her head miserably, her amber eyes rolling. “No. Usually I would be, it’s so odd! But I was studying the other night and reviewing old tests, and my chest felt so heavy and my head started spinning—”

Fitz stopped her by putting his hand over hers, gently reassuring her. Watching the two, Daisy thought her heart might burst, a bubbly feeling rising in her chest.

Jemma turned back to her, considerably less distressed.

“Do you want some help studying?” Daisy offered.

Jemma nodded. “Tonight, 8, the rooftop?”

The group nodded.

At eight o’clock, Daisy carefully climbed out her window and around the corner to the fire escape. The stairs whispered and creaked with the wind, but you would never know anyone was climbing the iron to the roof unless you ran directly into her.

She arrived at the last landing, one floor above her own, and crouched down. She jumped, using small quakes as a make-shift propulsor. Jemma turned her head towards the soft thump of Daisy landing on the roof.

The space was decorated with a jungle of potted plants and fairy lights strung around the ledge, mix-matched multicoloured and shades of white. They cast a warm glow across the spread of notes and textbooks neatly placed in front of Jemma. Daisy approached, pulling out her laptop and a pouch of pens, pencils, highlighters, and white-out.

“Ready for our study date?”

Jemma smiled. “Yes. Fitz should be here any minute.”

The two girls got comfortable, beginning to go over notes and chat idly. Daisy wrote down vocab and key ideas on note cards and organised them by subject. Jemma laughed loudly when Daisy expressed her confusion at the difference between the three biochemistries that she was taking. Suddenly, loud clanging was heard from the side of the building.

“Daisy! Jems!”

The two girls shared a glance at the panicked voice. Fitz.

They rushed over to where he would be coming onto the iron landing, grabbing his hand and helping him over the concrete barrier onto the roof.

Fitz supported himself on his knees, panting. “There's a guy down there. Creepy bastard.”

Jemma and Daisy shared another glance, this one full of concern and trepidation.

Fitz pointed to Daisy. “Askin’ about you, Dais. Your…” Fitz trailed off, drawing waves in the air with his hand.

Jemma rested a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Go check it out, we’ll be here when you get back.”

Daisy reluctantly jumped onto the metal landing below, resisting the urge to use her powers to cushion her landing. She quickly checked the perimeter of the dorm, then wandered closer to the forest that backed up to the dorms.

If only she had night vision as well as the power to create earthquakes.

A subtle movement caught her eye, a dark silhouette shifting in between the trees. A haze of clouds covered the moon, making the forest darker than usual. Daisy stepped forward slowly, her breath speeding up.

The air seemed electric, the few clouds in the sky bloodred with the remaining rays of sunset. The tall pines and thick oaks were silhouetted black against the sky, branches seeming to reach out to grab the twilight shadows. Daisy threw a quick glance over her shoulder, letting out a relieved exhale when she saw Fitz and Jemma watching over her from the roof.

A twig snapped right in front of Daisy, the treeline only twenty feet away. Daisy felt the echo bounce around the forest. She took a deep breath, steadying her hands and lungs. Something, someone, was right on the other side of those bushes…

“AAGH!”

A deer leapt out of the brush, landing right in front of her. Its large doe eyes stared at her, ears back. It was just a fawn.

Daisy slowly let out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms from where they had come up in front of her. She snorted.

“You’re just a baby. What are you doing in the bushes by yourself?”

Daisy tentatively reached out, the fawn showed no signs of moving. She opened her palm, letting the deer sniff before it bounded away across the field.

Daisy sighed. She felt something was off, like you would the moment before you were struck by lightning. Like any second, something else would pop out of the forest, this time a real threat…

Silence.

Stillness.

Daisy sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. I just need sleep. If the paranoia has set in, I definitely need sleep.

Daisy headed back to the dorms, the feeling of eyes on her following until she was safely on the roof with her friends.

The twinkling fairy lights lit the rest of their evening, shadows and deer forgotten in the warmth of laughs and starlight.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe haven.

A/N: Don’t mind me, just giving J a normal high school romance--one where his family is not involved. Set in S1 of Animal Kingdom. First time writing for this guy, so let me know what you think 

Pairing: Josh Cody x Black!OC

Rating: 💙 A soft piece with the youngest Cody, and the girl he tries to keep secret from his new found family. 

Request: Convincing J to study bc he's too caught up in the family business to worry about midterms

Words: 3.3k

Josh tightens his grip, crushing the letter in his hand. Left inside the unaddressed envelope, the letter remains unread. There is no point in reading it. J got the gist of the letter from the conversation with the counselor. He discards the crumpled mess in a nearby trash can.

The end of the school week produces a flood of excited teenagers emptying into the parking lot.

J's mind is on the previously discarded letter.

It was a letter of truancy, addressed to his grandmother, his current guardian. It has been months since the passing of J's mother. The school's patience has spread thin. His grades have not dropped, but his attendance has.

His mind is on the letter when he fishes his keys out of his front pocket. His pace slows before he comes to a complete stop a few feet short of his truck. The truck is where he left it, but there's a new addition.

It now has a powder blue backpack on the hood. Seated beside the backpack is the prettiest girl in school.

Cori Edwards has a familiar pair of black shades concealing her dark brown eyes -- now J remembers where he left them. She has abandoned the denim jacket he caught a glimpse of her in earlier. A knowing smile spreads across her face as she watches his eyes linger on the sundress she wears. As his eyes return to hers, J can't deny the smile on his lips.

The last time he saw Cori, for longer than the brief seconds they pass in the halls, was a month ago. This year, it appeared fate wanted to test the two. They had the same classes, the same teachers, but never at the same time. A few months ago, this meant they spent all of their free time stealing kisses at lunch and in the halls. They would then make up for lost time as soon as the school bell rang.

But things have changed too much. 

J's mother didn't keep track of his movements. His grandmother and uncles, J came to learn, analyze his actions. Keeping secrets has become second nature to him since moving into the Cody House. The one secret he swore he'd never reveal was Cori. He hasn't introduced her to Smurf or his uncles. He hasn't shared much about how his life has changed, upon his moving into their house, with Cori.

After so many vague responses, Cori understood it was better not to ask questions. She didn't want to spend her limited time arguing with J. Only, in the last month their limited face time has dwindled. Fizzed out to nothing.

A few texts here. A few long spread out phone calls there.

It was after one of those texts that their last reunion had taken place.

J might have been slightly drunk -- sober enough to drive, and park his truck a block from Cori's parent’s house. He had climbed through her bedroom window. The act itself was not graceful. His tumble through the window at three am woke her dad. Her dad came in to find Cori “still sleeping,” the toppled over AP Calculus and Physics books on the floor enough incentive for him to return to bed.

Once the coast was clear, J managed to strip before climbing into bed alongside her. All she received was a quick kiss before his arm was around her. He was out before his head hit the pillow. He left Cori with no time to inquire about his reasoning behind showing up drunk. Or about the black eye and busted lip. He had to sneak out in the morning before her parents got up.

Rumor has it J’s been showing up to school, even if Cori's rarely seen him there. He shows up for three days, almost like clockwork. Technically, it is enough to stop the school from legally reporting him for truancy. Until the counselor concluded it was time J stopped playing that game--which brings us to J's current situation.

He's standing in the parking lot, keys in hand, staring at his girlfriend -- at least he thinks she's still his girlfriend. Is it weird if he leads with that question?

As he stands before her, the only thought in his mind is how much he's missed her smile.

Jingling the keys in his hand, J regards the innocent smile on Cori's lips before shaking his head.

“You got a tracker on me, I don’t know about, Edwards?”

“Nope. It’s just a Cody sighting is kind of a big deal in these halls,” Cori sighs lightly as her eyes pass over the crowded parking lot. “Word gets around pretty fast when you actually show up.”

Cori’s words don't receive a verbal response. Her eyes are covered, but J knows what look lies inside them. The look causes his eyes to avoid hers. His hand rubs against the back of his neck, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"Haven’t seen you around lately, Josh." She continues, the warmth of her fingers against his chin lifting J's gaze. Cori raises her sunglasses, her eyes passing over his face. "Nice to know your black eyes is gone."

"Yeah--sorry about that night." The smile on his lips is sheepish as he watches her study his face. He mentally kicks himself for the following line--he knows it's getting old. He says it anyway. "I had some family stuff-"

"That left you drunk with a black eye and busted lip?"

J takes in her raised brow, his shoulders sink.

What can he say?

I got my ass kicked after I was caught in the act of stealing some guy's car. Granted, my uncle saved my ass, but not before I got a black eye and busted lip?

No. He can't say that.

If he does, then he would have to explain why he was stealing a car in the first place. And that is a rabbit hole J isn't willing to jump down--not with her.

The passing of her fingers through his hair causes J to speak up.

"Sorry. I know you're tired of bullshit excuses." He shakes his head.

"I'm used to it," Cori sighs, her hands falling to her lap.

Before he can stop himself, J's hands are on her thighs pulling her closer. His lips are on hers.

"I'm sorry. You look nice," he smiles as his lips press a second kiss against hers.

"Hmm?"

"I’m serious," he chuckles as his hand finds her waist.

"Trust me, I know it’s true," she laughs. "I’m just trying to figure out why it’s taken you so long to say it."

"I’ve been busy," he begins. "With-"

"Family stuff," Cori nods, her hand waving to dismiss the subject. "I know, but that's not what I tracked you down for. I have so graciously blessed you with my presence because you owe me two things."

"What are they?" J's brow arches, a soft smile on his lips.

Cori drops her hand for his cheek. J's eyes remain on her as she leans back, weight resting against her palms.

"I need a ride home," she lightly pats the hood of the car. "And I need a study buddy."

J lets off a light scoff at the latter.

If there is one undisputed fact, it is Cori's academic ranking. She is top of their class. Between the two, J needs a study buddy to catch up to her perfect GPA.

"Okay. When?"

"Tonight, genius," her eyes roll as she pushes against his shoulder. "Josh, please don’t tell me you forgot we have midterms Monday."

J's eyes briefly drift shut.

"Shit--I have a family thing tonight."

"When?” Cori smiles as his eyes pass over the parking lot. The corners of J's lips turn up into a smile before his gaze returns to hers. “I’m just saying...it’s technically not nighttime yet…and being as you haven't seen me in ten thousand years...the least you can do is study with me...”

"What’s it gonna take for me to get out of this?"

Cori pauses to think.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Shaking her head, Cori smiles as her hands find his shoulders. "There is absolutely nothing that you can give me for me to drop this."

"Damn."

"Unless,” Cori bites back her smile as her playful eyes meet his. “You want to tell me how much you missed me.”

“If that’s it,” J sighs, his lips stopping short of hers, “You might want to go ahead and find another ride home--”

“Shut up,” she giggles as his hands find her waist.

Helping her down, J steals a kiss before following Cori to the passenger side of his truck.

"I'm just giving you a ride home."

"Uh-huh." Turning to face him, she smiles as his lips press against hers.

She allows him a second kiss as J's arm wraps around her waist.

“To sweeten the deal,” she beams. “I’ll even let you take me out.”

"What is it?"

Cori's eyes remain on the surfers visible from the parking lot. She watches the girl who manages to ride the swell longer than the rest of the group. When she glances across the truck, she discovers J watching her. 

"What do you mean?" 

A low chuckle escapes J as he watches Cori busy herself with the task of finishing her milkshake. 

"What's on your mind?"

Despite her asking him to stop and grab something to eat, Cori hasn't said much to J. Even if she had, he knew her well enough to grasp Cori was waiting to ask him something. Her brown eyes raise to meet his gaze before she lets out a breath. 

"It's kinda stupid."

"Coming from you?" His brow arches as his fingers interlace with hers. "I doubt it."

Cori's gaze remains on their interlaced fingers as she speaks.

"It's just, the winter formal is coming up. I figured we could go together."

She glimpses up once her suggestion is met with silence. J's brow is a furrowed, a hesitant smile on his lips. 

His thoughts are racing--he's praying this is the initial time she's breached the subject. That he hadn't missed any hints in his haze the past weeks.

"Seriously? You never want to go to those things."

Cori's eyes roll. J's right. In the last two years, neither of them have attended the school’s dances. 

She bites her lip before opting to take another sip of her strawberry shake. 

"You really wanna go?" A light shrug is what J gets in response. "If you want to go, I'll go."

"It's just--we're going to be done with school soon. We have to go to at least one--"

"And prom?"

"That's not up for debate. Your ass is taking me to prom, Joshua Cody." Cori laughs as J's lips press against her fingers. 

J's smile fades as a ringtone interrupts the conversation. He releases Cori's hand before retrieving his cellphone from the truck's console. 

She silently observes as he reads the name on the screen. 

Baz. 

She remembers the name--he is one of J's uncles--but that's where her knowledge ends. The furrow of J's brow sets in as he declines the call.

“So...this family thing," she notes, as his eyes meet hers. Before she can get the rest of her thought out, a text comes through recapturing J's attention. "It must be pretty important.”  

J's shrug seems outlandish when held alongside the urgency of his uncle. In the time it took to eat, J's phone has got several notifications. Each time, he pauses long enough to silence the call and proceeds as if it never came. 

“It’s just a thing with my uncles.” His mood is light as he sets the phone back down. His easiness returns as he meets her eyes. "Smurf's pretty serious about everyone being home for it." 

He can notice the slight hesitance in her eyes before she offers him a smile in return.

Leaning across the car, J presses a kiss against her cheek. His lips drift to her neck. 

"I'll get the tickets Monday," he mumbles as his lips retrace their steps. "Promise."

J's truck is parked engine idling. His left-hand rests against the steering wheel, his eyes on her.

Cori has removed her seatbelt. Her body is turned in the seat so that she faces J. She toys with the hem of her dress instead of moving to get out.

"It was good to see you, J."

"Yeah," J agrees. Her eyes lift to meet his, the soft smile on his lips stretching into a grin. "You too."

J opens his mouth to continue the thought, but Cori has already turned away from him. He watches as she retrieves her backpack from the back seat.  

"Cori," J clears his throat. The action hinders Cori's opening of the door. Her hand hovers over the handle. "Maybe we can hang-"

"Nope.”

J blinks. His brow furrows as a silence falls over the car.

"If you want to see me again," Cori teases, her hand falling from the handle. "It will be in school."

"Why do I have a feeling you're not gonna let this go?" J's eyes roll softly as Cori leans across the car. "You’re serious?" 

"Because I'm not letting this go," she smiles sweetly, ignoring the chuckle the action pulls from J. "And, I'm 'lock my window' serious, Josh. Show up if you want, and I’ll leave you outside."

The smile on Cori's lips grows as J's gaze falls from hers. His tongue passes over his lips as she leans closer.

His eyes drift shut as her giggle fills the car before Cori presses a kiss against his cheek. She leaves a second kiss before moving away. Hopping out of the truck, Cori slips her backpack onto her shoulders.

"Think about what’s important to you, Cody," she beams before shutting the door.

J picks up his phone. The screen lights up as a new text message appears.

6 missed calls. Baz

7 missed texts. Baz

1 missed text. Craig

He opens the most recent notification from Craig.

Dude. Call Baz back so he'll stop losin his shit. You know we got that thing tonight

Cori is in the process of unlocking the door when she hears the sound of his car door slamming. Looking over her shoulder, she smiles as J crosses the driveway backpack over his shoulder.

"Two hours,” he concedes. J is powerless to the tug of her hand as Cori pulls him inside. “Then I have to go. Baz is blowing up my phone.”

"Then we better get started."

J's fingers comb through his hair, the brown eyes trained on him forcing him back to reality.

Judging by the look on Cori's face, this is not the first time she has spoken. Heat rushes to his face as J's gaze reverts to the stack of notecards in his hands.

"Uh--yeah," he clears his throat as he shifts in the computer chair. "That's right."

He steals a second glance at her, the smile on Cori's lips not helping with his current situation.

"Of course it is," she winks. Her gaze returns to the review sheet. She stops to make a note alongside the term The Baroque.

The two are currently in the midst of an AP European History review.

J isn't much help, but Cori doesn't need it. Each of her responses is correct. That's good for J. He's spent the last thirty minutes distracted.

It's a good thing Cori claimed the bed, laying on her stomach as she pulled out her notebook. J took the computer chair opposite of her. If Cori had let him join her on the bed, no studying would have taken place.

It doesn't matter that a month has passed. J hasn't been able to keep his eyes off Cori Edwards since her arrival freshman year.

A smile creeps across his face as J's eyes meet Cori's for a second time.

"You need a break, Cody?" The grin on her lips widens as Cori rests her chin in her hand. "You seem distracted."

"Just thinking about how you don't need these." J lifts the cards in his hands before discarding them on the nearby desk. "You never have."

"Hmm..." Cori's eyes return to the review sheet. She pauses to add more to the notes written neatly in the margins. "True, but you do."

Pushing herself up, she passes over the review sheet. Written neatly in the top right-hand corner is J's name.

"I made this for you Tuesday night."

J studies the sheet for a moment, his fingers massaging his temple as he takes in Cori's study guide.

Shit--she's right. He does need it. He missed the review session on Tuesday. The thing about AP Euro is that it's not as straight forward as Trig. J can ace his Trig midterm in his sleep. AP Euro is a whole separate story.

"Thanks, Cori," he sighs. The grateful look in his eyes as he watches her cross the room earns him a warm smile. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh, trust me, I know." Taking his hand in her, Cori lowers herself down onto his lap. "But, I know you have a lot going on. Besides, making the sheet helped me review for the test."

"I love you. You know that?"

"As you should." Taking his face in her hands, Cori smiles as J meets her gaze. She closes the remaining distance between their lips. "I love you too."

As her lips drift to his neck, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt, J pushes her dress up her thighs.

"I thought we were studying," he chuckles, his lips returning to hers.

"We're taking a break," she giggles. "You’re useless when you’re distracted."

When he wakes, J knows he’s overstayed. He was meant to leave by four. It’s four thirty. 

The cellphone, humming on the surface of Cori’s desk, sounds through the bedroom. J doesn’t lift his head from the pillow. Instead, he watches her face scrunch in irritation as the sound gradually pulls Cori out of her sleep.

“You gotta go?” She breathes, her eyes remaining shut as she tries to fall back to sleep.

“I should,” he chuckles. His finger traces the curve of Cori's shoulder. “Your parents will probably be home soon.”

“You’re right.” A soft giggle follows as J's arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body across the bed. “You should probably go.”

Despite his words, J makes no move to leave the bed. He sinks his face into her neck. His weight presses her into the mattress as her arms wind around his neck. He stays there for almost ten minutes. His eyes closed, listening to the delicate pattern of her pulse. Neither says a word. Cori knows the time has come to let him go when J presses a soft kiss against her skin before forcing himself up.

“I have some family shit I gotta handle,” J huffs as his palms rub against his eyes. “So, um, I probably won’t be on my phone for most of the weekend.”

“Okay.”

J proceeds to redress, his body in no rush to leave, as his phone starts again.

He needs to go. Now.

J has prolonged his return to reality, and the Cody House, long enough. If he doesn’t call back shortly, Smurf might have a heart attack.

J tugs his t-shirt over his head. His eyes focus on the bedroom window. He’s shocked Smurf's car is not parked out front. It wouldn’t be the first time his grandmother has tracked him.

“I just meant--I might not be able to pick up if you call,” he crosses the room to meet Cori. The faint smile on his lips brings one to her. “You can text me.”

“Maybe,” Cori sighs as J's lips caress her cheek. “If I have time. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

She catches sight of his sparkling eyes before J’s lips are on hers. The kiss itself is soft, another step in his lingering goodbye. His lips linger against hers before pressing against hers a final time.

“Hey,” J pulls back, his fingers interlacing with hers. He gently squeezes her hand as she meets his gaze. “Thanks for today. I missed you.”

“You too.”

“I’ll text you later,” J smiles before retrieving his phone and backpack.

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[olivinesea]

Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn’t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

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