#BUT IT WASN'T BAD AND I SHOULD BE FINE ACTUALLY!!!! AND I SHOULDN'T BE SO WEAK AND SICK FROM IT

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Life We Choose – Gary Johnson

Y/N woke up to the sound of her boyfriend's phone ringing. She slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard as he talked to whoever called him and started throwing clothes into a suitcase. She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them as he packed his bathroom stuff.

He hung up the phone and instantly walked around to Y/N's side of the bed. He leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to her lips.

"A new bad guy was just put on my war path," he smirked as he broke the kiss. "I shouldn't be gone longer than a few days."

"Okay," Y/N said, trying not to show too much emotion. "Let me know when you get wherever you're going."

Gary grabbed her chin and kissed her again. This time, the kiss was a bit rougher than the other one. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I always do, baby."

Y/N was well aware of where her boyfriend was going. Well, not exactly, but she knew what he was going to do. He works undercover for the police as a hired hitman. He goes on cases and sets people up who want to hire him to kill someone they know.

Of course, she's not supposed to know any of this. Gary ignored his orders to keep his job to himself. When the two first started dating, Gary didn't tell Y/N about his job. He told her the lie of one of his covers, and it worked until he missed a date due to a case gone bad.

She went to his apartment an hour after he was supposed to pick her up for their date and found him badly beaten. She didn't say anything as she used his first aid kit to patch him up. Once she was done, he asked if she had any questions for him.

~ ~ ~

"I'm sure you have questions," Gary sighed, subconsciously messing with one of the bandages Y/N just put on him.

"Not really," Y/N whispered as she finished cleaning up the unused bandages and used gauze. Gary grabbed her elbow when she walked by him and gently turned her toward him.

"Ask me," he whispered.

"I'm not going to."

She pulled her arm out of his hold and took the first aid kit back to the bathroom. When she walked back into his room, she stopped and leaned against the doorframe.

"If you wanted to tell me, Gary, you would've already told me without me having to ask."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," he stuttered.

"Then what?" She sighed. "You can't?"

"It's complicated," he tried to brush off. The look in her eyes dropped. With a slight shake of her head, she turned and started to leave. Before she could get too far, the truth slipped out.

"I've been lying about my job."

Y/N froze. She took a second before slowly turning around. "You what?"

"I'm not a bartender," Gary confessed.

"What are you. . ." Y/N stuttered but didn't finish.

"I work undercover for the police," he admitted.

"The police," she whispered, the shock clear in her voice. "What is your. . . Undercover?"

For the first time since he started telling her the truth, Gary hesitated. "I pretend to be a hired hitman. People reach out to me and pay me to kill someone in their life. After a few meetings with the person, the cops catch them."

Gary's answer made Y/N stumble backwards. He wasn't surprised by her reaction, but it still hurt. He didn't want her to be scared of him, and, for a moment, she was.

A moment.

"You don't actually kill the person you're hired to kill, right?"

"Of course not," Gary said quickly as he stepped forward and closed the gap between them. "I just set up the people who hire me. I don't kill anyone."

Gary held his breath as she studied him. She took a slow and careful step toward him.

"If that ever changes, we're done."

~ ~ ~

After the truth came out, Gary promised Y/N that he'd never change. And he's worked incredibly hard to make sure that didn't happen. To keep his promise, he often told Y/N more than he should about the missions he went on. Of course, he didn't tell her everything. Just enough to reassure her that he was fine.

No matter how long he was gone, he'd call her every night so she'd know he was alright. Sometimes the call only lasted five minutes - long enough for him to check in. Other times, the call lasted two hours as they talked about anything and everything other than his case.

After Gary left, Y/N tried to go through her normal schedule. She went to work and busied herself with her clients. On the way home, she stopped at the grocery store. After she made herself dinner and took a shower, her phone rang.

"Hey, you," she answered.

"Hey, gorgeous," his voice came through the phone. She put her phone on speaker as she brushed her hair. "Just wanted to let you know that I made it to my hotel."

"Hotel, huh?" She teased. "Must be a pretty high-profile case. Usually, you're in a motel."

"I know," he chuckled. "How was your day?"

"The usual," she shrugged. "Nothing too exciting. Mostly boring routine."

"I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but I'm glad your day was boring."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, faking offense.

"Boring means safe," he said, his tone slightly softening. "You going through your day like usual, and being bored is very reassuring to me, Y/N. One of my biggest fears when I'm away is not being there when you need me."

"Gary, stop," she tried to interrupt his spiraling. "Please, baby. I'm fine. Other than being on my feet all day and having orders barked at me, I'm fine."

"Good," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Because I worry about you, darling."

"I know," she sighed. "And I worry about you."

There was a brief moment of silence between the two. Finally, Gary broke the silence.

"You know that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is call," he double-checked. "Call me and I will leave my mission and come home."

"That's not necessary," she said gently. "But I will keep that in mind. I love you, Gary."

"I love you too, Y/N."

* * * * *

The next day, Y/N went through her normal routine of going to the gym in the morning, showering at home, heading into work, and running a few errands before heading home for the night.

Everything was normal except for one thing: all day, Y/N has felt like someone has been watching her.

Everywhere she went, this feeling followed her. It didn't matter how many times she looked over her shoulder. No one was ever there. The longer that feeling followed her around, the jumpy she got. When she finally walked into the apartment she and Gary have shared for the past three months, she locked the door behind her and took a shaky breath.

Y/N double-checked all the windows and the doors before making herself something to eat. She barely ate anything. After giving up, she went to take a bath to try and help her calm down. The warm water helped, but she still had the feeling.

She jumped when her phone started ringing. She tried to calm her breathing before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby," Gary said. "Just calling to check in."

"You're still alive," Y/N tried to joke.

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. "I am."

"Good," she teased. "Because if you don't come back home to me, I'll kill you myself."

"I accept the consequences," he smirked into the phone.

"How's your case going?" Y/N asked to keep him talking about himself. The second they stop, he'll ask her how she is, and she didn't want to answer that.

"The beginning is always kind of slow," he sighed. "It's mainly gathering information and establishing my cover."

"Are you the college professor, businessman, or bartender?" Y/N chuckled, slowly feeling like herself again.

"None of the above," he chuckled. "Think a Dolph Lundgren-type Russian."

"Damn," Y/N smirked, slowly relaxing into the bath. "Gotta say, that put an extremely hot picture in my head."

"Sorry to tease you, baby," he said, lowering his voice.

"That's okay," she shrugged. "I can use it later."

"That's not fair," he groaned.

"Payback, my dear Hitman."

"Damn, I love you," he chuckled. He paused for a second before asking, "How was your day, baby?"

And just like that, Y/N wasn't relaxed anymore.

"The usual," she shrugged. "Went to the gym, went to work, ran a few errands."

They talked for another twenty minutes before Gary had to hang up. Y/N ended up not telling Gary about her weird feeling. She wasn't sure she was actually being watched, so there was no reason to tell him. If she did, he'd be distracted or he'd come home early.

Turns out, she should've told him.

* * * * *

After a long day of talking to his client, observing his "target", and playing into his cover, he headed back to the hotel. He tried calling Y/N in the elevator, but she didn't answer. Not thinking anything of it, he went to his room and changed out of his cover's clothes. He tried calling her again, but she didn't answer.

He tried not to worry as he ordered dinner. After eating the hotel's version of chicken parmesan, he tried calling Y/N again. When she still didn't answer, he allowed himself to worry. It only took him a few beats to switch gears and call his handler.

"Johnson, you're not supposed to be calling. . ."

"Y/N's not answering her phone," Gary cut him off.

"What?" Gary's handler, Mike Ackerman's, tone changed. "What do you mean? Did you talk to her yesterday?"

"Yeah, I did," Gary answered. "But I've called her three times tonight and she hasn't answered."

"Maybe her phone is off because of work and she forgot to turn it back on," Ackerman offered.

"No," he said instantly. "Whenever I'm out on a mission, Y/N always keeps her phone on. Always. Something is wrong, Mike. Y/N could be hurt. Or worse, in trouble."

"Alright," he soothed. "I'll have a black and white drive by your apartment and knock on the door."

"Do it now," Gary ordered. "And call me as soon as they get there."

Gary had to wait half an hour for Mike to call back. And when he did, his world shifted.

"Hey, man," Mike sighed.

"Where's Y/N?" Gary pushed. "Is she okay? Why wasn't she answering her phone?"

"Gary," Mike said firmly, "Y/N wasn't there."

"Wait, what? Why wasn't she there? Where could she. . ."

"Your apartment was broken into," Mike cut him off. "There were signs of a struggle."

"A struggle," Gary repeated, suddenly feeling numb. "What kind of a struggle?"

"A struggle that clearly meant Y/N fought back," Mike said to try and keep Gary calm. "She did not go down without a fight, Johnson. In fact, we think some of the blood we found might belong to one of the kidnappers."

"The blood you found?!" Gary snapped. "I'm on my way."

Despite his handler and boss calling him several times, Gary ignored their orders. He wasn't going to let some random cops find his Y/N.

By the time Gary got back to the precinct, the lab had finished running the blood they found in Gary's and Y/N's apartment. Most of it belonged to Y/N, but a drop belonged to someone else. They used DNA testing to match the blood to the culprit. The blood belonged to a little brother of a drug dealer he arrested two years ago.

The police knew of three possible places this guy could be. Ignoring more orders to stay out of this, Gary went to each of the locations.

At the last one, he found the bastards who took his Y/N. He didn't take long to take them down, either shooting or knocking them out. As the rest of the police were focused on securing the idiots, Gary tore through the house. He kicked down every door until he finally found Y/N, unconscious and duct taped to a chair in the basement.

"Y/N!" He gasped. He ran into the room and instantly started taking off her duct tape. He froze when she let out a painful groan. Gary held his breath as Y/N's eyes slowly fluttered open.

"It's me, baby," he said quickly. "You're okay."

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. He then finished undoing her restraints and carefully helped her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and led her out of the house.

EMTs were waiting for them, but he didn't remove his arms from Y/N. He helped her into the back of the ambulance and onto the gurney. He stayed right by her side, her hand in his, as they rode to the hospital.

From the moment he found her, Y/N hasn't said a thing. She hasn't cried. She hasn't yelled. She hasn't answered any questions. She hasn't even whimpered in pain or fear.

Gary stayed in the room as the doctors examined her. She had some bruises and a cut across her forehead that needed stitches, but nothing too serious. They wanted to keep her overnight for examination, but she shook her head.

"She'll be safe with me," Gary reassured her doctors.

"Okay," the doctor didn't argue. "Make sure she eats three meals a day and gets plenty of rest. If her headaches last longer than two or three days, have her come back."

After the doctor left, Gary turned toward her to see her focusing on her hands. He walked over and gently put his hand on top of hers.

"Baby," he whispered, "are you alright?"

She didn't say anything. Instead, she slowly shook her head.

"What do you need, Y/N?" He asked.

She didn't say anything.

"How about I take you home?" He suggested. "Actually, how about I take you to a safe house? We can order from your favorite Greek place and watch one of your comfort movies until you fall asleep."

She didn't say anything. When she slid off the hospital bed, her legs didn't quite catch her. But Gary did. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her out of the hospital.

* * * * *

Y/N kept her silence the entire drive to the safe house. Gary kept looking at her, wishing she would say something. He wanted her to tell him what happened. He wanted her to show some kind of emotion. Hell, he'd rather have her yelling and blaming him instead of her remaining silent.

When they pulled into the driveway, Y/N immediately started getting out of the car. Gary jumped out and ran to catch up to her. He grabbed her hand and led her to the door. He opened it for her, and she walked inside.

She didn't stop at the family room. She walked straight up the stairs. Gary quickly followed her into the master bedroom. As she climbed into the bed, Gary kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

Gary opened his mouth to say something, but nothing felt right. He opened and closed his mouth several times. He couldn't think of anything to say to her. Turns out, he didn't need to.

"I can't do this anymore," Y/N whispered, finally breaking her silence.

Gary opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it when he saw the tears beginning to stream down Y/N's face.

"I can't handle this anymore," she softly continued. "I don't want to be the kind of girl who demands that you choose between your job and me, but I feel like at this point I can ask something similar. I was kidnapped."

When her voice broke, Gary lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She cuddled into him, and soft sobs left her in whimpers.

"I can't handle your life anymore, Gary," she said through her cries. "Your job is the reason I was kidnapped. And I can't help but wonder: what's next? What happens if we get married? Will I always be looking over my shoulder for people you locked away? What happens when we have kids? Will they have to look over their shoulders all their lives, too? What if someone you put away goes after our kid? Our baby?! Don't let them take our baby!"

Her sob got rougher as her thoughts spiraled. Gary tightened his arms around her and closed his eyes to try and calm down. The longer he thought about her fears, the more he realized she was right. Her life is in danger because of how close they are.

He is putting her life in danger.

Gary leaned back and gently lifted her chin. She looked up at him through her tears, making his heart feel like it was slowly being ripped apart. He leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to hers. She let out a soft whimper as she kissed him back.

When Gary broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. "I am so sorry, baby," he whispered. "I'm not going to choose my job over you. My job means nothing compared to you. You, Y/N, are what I'm choosing."

"You're really willing to quit your job?" She asked, her voice soft. He leaned back and cupped her face in his hand.

"I'd do anything for you," he didn't hesitate to say. "I love you, Y/N. The last thing I'm going to do with my job is put you and me in Witness Protection."

"You can. . . You can do that?"

"With what I did," he shrugged, "and with what happened to you because of it, it won't be too hard to convince my boss. WitSec will give us a chance to have a normal and safe life. We can settle down, have normal jobs, and raise a family in a safe environment."

"And that's what you want," she said so slowly it almost sounded like a question.

Gary leaned in and kissed her again. This time, she was a bit quicker to kiss him back. She broke the kiss and immediately started nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

"That is exactly what I want," he whispered. "I want a nice, quiet, safe life with you."

[robinsnest2111]

please don't look too closely at the fact I crave unconditional love and attention in the way pets get unconditional love and attention. because they're adorable and lovable without having to earn it or actively put effort into being so in the eyes of others. they just are. please don't psychoanalyse me and my trauma and mental illnesses through that lense

[kitkatscabinet]

"THE WAYNE SIBLINGS READ THIRST TWEETS"

requested by anon

summary: the internet is horny for you, your brothers suffer for it.

pairings: platonic! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake x batsis! reader

A/N: 18+, on account of horny twitter users ;)

You and your brothers are lined up in a semi-circle, Dick, you, Jason then Tim, each of you sporting different expressions as the cameras begin rolling.

You and Dick are cheerful mirrors of each other, while Jason and Tim look like they'd rather be anywhere but here as the four of you settle into place.

"So today we're going to have you reading thirst tweets, but the twist is, they're all about your sister." The producer says from out of frame. Abruptly, your brother's moods swing violently.

"No!" Dick cheers, the blinding smile plastered across his face never even twitching.

Jason's frown has evolved from "mildly disgruntled" to "about to start shooting people."

Tim, meanwhile, appears to have stopped working altogether. "Timmers?" You giggle, waving a hand across his face.

"Ew... I mean, people find you attractive?" He scrunches up his nose, and your face turns murderous.

"RIGHT! Listen here you little - " you lean across Jason to strangle your little brother when a giggle from somewhere on set reminds you where you are, and you paste on a practised grin.

"I can see why Damian wasn't invited now."

"None of us should have been invited, this shouldn't be happening." Tim mumbled with a thousand yard stare.

Relishing in his stress, you quickly pull a piece of paper from the oversized thirst jug, staring directly at Tim as you read. "Bruce Wayne's daughter could smack me across the face with a brick and I’d say ‘thank you, mommy’"

Tim dry heaves, face a little green.

"Damn, now I can never use that in bed again." Jason grumbles, causing Dick to spit out his water as Tim gags once more.

"You're disgusting." He kicks Jason as you hum in consideration.

"I don't know, I think I could get behind it."

"Never speak again, actually." Tim fires back.

"Well, if you liked that, then you'll love this one: Sit on my face, I'll pay you, anything! please, SIT ON MY FACE! SIT ON MY-” Dick, who's only just recovered from his previous near death experience starts choking again, making you hit his back a little harder than strictly necessary.

Jason starts attempting to take the jug off your hands, but you quickly dance out of the way, "Oh look, this one's not even that bad." Your brothers look sceptical, but they don't stop you, "She's so fine, I'd kill a man just to breathe the same air as her."

"What is with people and committing crimes?" Jason seems genuinely concerned. How chronically offline of him.

"I attract a very passionate demographic." You shrug.

"You attract future convicts," Dick mutters in devastation.

A shit eating grin covers your face as you read the next one, having lulled them into a false sense of security.

"Need her to pull on my hair like a leash as she fucks me into next week with the strap." Dick wails, falling sideways off the chair like a fainting Victorian woman.

"Hmm, you want the pink or the green one, baby?" you smile seductively at the camera.

"That's it! You're done, you're done!" Jason lunges for you at the same time as Dick, your older brother getting the jug whilst you're hauled over Jason's shoulder.

You shriek, but you refused to be deterred, unfolding one of the papers you'd managed to grab before Dick attempted to thwart your fun. "Not to be dramatic, but if Jason’s sister looked me in the eye and said ‘kneel’, I’d hit the floor so fast I’d break my - hey."

Tim pulls the paper from your hands, staring at it like it killed his puppy. "Why are you encouraging this?" Tim gestures accusingly at the Buzzfeed staff members laughing behind the cameras, before he does a double take at the twitter handle.

"Wait... This is from Roy's Twitter account!" Tim yells, whirling on Jason like he's personally responsible for all of his grievances.

"There's one here from Conner too," You clear your throat, holding the paper far above Tim's head with your superior height courtesy of Jason's unwilling help, "I’d treat you right. You ever want someone to make you cum till you forget your own name, hit me up babe."

Your brothers scream, and you’re having so much fun that you only mildly worry about Conner’s safety in the near future.

(You wonder if you’ll have time to take him up on his offer before his inevitable funeral.)

The video ends with a message flashing across the screen: "Several of the tweets submitted came from Wally West's Twitter account. Some were deemed too explicit to share."

[radiance1]

By all accounts, it shouldn't have worked.

By all bloody accounts, that should not have worked.

Constantine will repeat.

That, by all accounts, should not have worked.

The warehouse was shitty. The materials were shitty. The summoning circle was shitty. The chanting was shitty. The magic was shitty.

By all accounts, the summoning should not have worked.

So Constantine couldn't give much of a shit about really stopping it because the summoning was so shitty it shouldn't have worked by an means possible.

So what. In the ever-loving fuck. Was the Ghost King, known tyrant of the Infinite Realms. Standing in the middle of the circle and not, last he checked, imprisoned?

That was another thing that he thought would have made it fail, actually. Because the Ghost King was incapacitated, asleep, gone, unavailable, nada.

So what. The fuck. Was he doing. Here?

Constantine knew the day was going to well to stay that way but wow. The universe loves to fuck him over, apparently.

Or the Justice League in specific.

Or both.

Doesn't matter, because now he has to bullshit his way out of this or get ready to brawl for his life.

Good thing he's good at both of those things, then.

Mostly the bullshit-

"Phantom what the fuck are you doing-" Constantine wheezed out, watching one of their newest members-a ghost going by the name Phantom-fly over in front of the known tyrant and-

Oh.

Oh, holy shit this won't end well.

Ghost King.

Phantom. A ghost.

Well, shit.

This is fine. This is totally fine. He just needs to bullshit his way out of this or face two powerhouses.

This is fine.

He's done worse.

"Sup War" Phantom said, floating around the summoning circle that contained the king of all ghosts like it wasn't a problem. "Didn't expect to be seeing you here."

"Ward." The Ghost King inclined his head slightly, eyes trained on Phantom. "I would not have come here if not for Time's insistence and I have been meaning to..." The King paused, hands gripping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword. "...Check in... on you."

"Aww, were you worried about lil old meeeee?" Phantom, ever the little shit and holy shit did Constantine want to go over there and shut him up, said. Floating around until he was staring upside down in the Ghost King's face. "Didn't know you were so soft, pa."

"I am not soft." The King huffed, flame dancing at the edges of his hair. "I was merely... concerned. Over how you would be acclimating to your circumstances. This world's League of Justice covers far more than your small haunt."

"Weeeell, it's not that bad honestly." Phantom admitted. "Haven't really done anything too big yet just some smallish things here and there. So, you know." The ghost boy shrugged, swinging back in the air to turn upright and crossing his legs. "Nothing too bad."

"Good." The Ghost King nodded, shoulders slumping so slightly that if Constantine wasn't looking, he wouldn't have seen it. "That is good. Yes. Good." The King slightly cleared his throat, grasping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword.

Silence echoed in the warehouse as the King seemingly looked for words to say.

"Would you..." He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter. "Would you like to join me and Time for a meeting? It has been some time since you had last joined us." The King shifted slightly before adding. "Of course, if you're busy you do not have too."

"Sure." Phantom said, rolling back and forth in the air as he hummed. "Been a while since we've had some family time-"

"Family time?" Constantine caught someone-who he thinks was Green Lantern-say. He was just as bewildered.

"And if Time sent you here then it must be important." Danny paused before shrugging. "Or maybe not, can never know with him. But yea, sure. I'll come."

"Wonderful." The Ghost King smiled. Smiled. At Phantom. "Then I shall. Leave. Now. To do. Things. Yes. Things." The summoning circle flashed a familiar green, the same green when the King was first being summoned. "Goodbye, ward."

"You can call me son, you know."

The King paused for a moment, blinking slowly before hesitantly nodding.

"Then goodbye. Son."

The circle flashed and just like that. The king was gone.

"Kid. What the fuck." Whoever said- okay wait no that was Constantine, him. But yea fuck it he agrees with himself. "What the fuck." He repeated.

Phantom, the brat, only gave him a shit eating grin and a peace sign before disappearing on the spot.

[mariasont]

mariaaa!! i have another idea!! > 3 <

ok, so…

sleepy, needy, & clingy bimbo!reader with hotch

either before they together or when they first get together <3

Hot & Bothered (No, Like, Literally, You Have a Fever) - A.H.

summary: bimbo!assistant!reader is feverish, clingy & just a little delirious, except, not too delirious to shamelessly flirt with your very attractive, very exasperated boyfriend. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: sick!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, soft!hotch, flirty banter, suggestive-ish content, clingy!reader, hotch ignoring all cdc guidelines, reader is kinda being a baby about everything (just like me fr), theatre kid hotch. wc: 2.3k

You started off playing it cute. All little sighs, sending Aaron pouty texts filled with emojis, making sure he knew you missed him, but in a haha, just kidding (unless?) kind of way. Now you're way past that. The cute phase had dissolved into something far more desperate.

You were sick-sick. The terrible kind of sick where your limbs feel like they're made of granite, and your skin somehow manages to burn and freeze at the same time.

Worst of all, Aaron wasn't here.

And really, what was the point of having a boyfriend as stupidly gorgeous, painfully competent, and naturally overprotective as Aaron Hotchner if he wasn't going to be around when you need him most?

You knew you were being dramatic. You knew this was your own fault. Aaron had practically ordered you to let him come home with you, standing there in his office with his disapproving frown, telling you that you shouldn't be alone if you weren't feeling well.

But in your infinite wisdom, you had waved him off, told him to stay at work. Because at the time, you were fine. Or, more so, fine-adjacent. And because sometimes, your brain tricks you into thinking you are a capable, independent woman who does not, in fact, require Hotch-shaped supervision.

So now you're curled up in bed, drowning in the well-worn fabric of his FBI academy hoodie, the one that smells like him. And it helps. But not enough.

Because if he were here, he'd be so good at taking care of you. He'd probably be all bossy and stern about it, telling you to drink your water, go to sleep, and stop pouting. But then he'd turn around and betray himself completely by smoothing your hair back so, so softly, by tucking the blankets up to your chin like you're something delicate. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a soft side.

Maybe you should call him. Maybe you should be really, really pathetic about it and beg him to come home.

Maybe you're just a little too codependent. (Just a little.)

The second the front door opens, you think you must be imaging it. You convince yourself it's the fever, twisting reality into want instead of what actually is. Because Aaron shouldn't be home yet.

You squint at the clock, but it's just a bunch of blurry numbers, and math is already hard enough without feeling like your brain is actively melting.

But then there's the sound of leather against hardwood, and not just any leather.

You know those shoes. The custom Italian Oxfords you forced him to let you buy. He'd grumbled about the price, all exasperated and dramatic (as if he had any real concept of what good leather actually costs), but he still let you drag him to the store. Still let you lace them up for him. Still let you kiss him senseless in the parking lot because he looked too insanely sexy in them to be allowed to exist without immediate compensation.

You'd told him once that good shoes take you good places. And now look where they took him.

Straight home to you.

The relief is so instantaneous, it makes your head spin. And suddenly, he's there, shoulders broad against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes warm despite the unimpressed look he's attempting to pull off.

"My poor baby," he says, half-teasing, but mostly just achingly soft.

Your bottom lip wobbles. "It's not that bad."

Aaron sighs loudly, already loosening his tie as he strides over, assessing the damage, which, in this case, is you, buried under what is objectively a very reasonable amount of blankets.

"Uh-huh." Flat. Dry. But he's already reaching to fix them, like he can't help himself. "That why you're buried in every blanket we own?"

You burrow deeper into said blankets. Maybe if you commit hard enough, he'll stop looking so smug.

"They're comfy."

He crouches beside the bed, undoing the last button on his cuff before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. His touch is cool, and you lean into it immediately, shameless at how much you enjoy his skin against your overheated own.

"You're hot."

You blink at him, dazed, and—without thinking—mumble, "So are you."

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. Not because they're untrue, that's indisputable, but because of the sheer pathetic delivery of it, all scratchy and pitiful and nothing like the effortless flirtation you usually bring to the table.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like that might somehow reverse time.

Aaron, of course, is completely unbearable about it. His lips twitch, and you can see it happening in real time, his struggle not to laugh directly in your face.

"Flattered," he drawls, his thumb brushing over your temple, fingers carding through your hair in slow strokes. "Have you been drinking enough water?"

You wrinkle your nose. "Water is boring."

"You're boring."

You gasp, sniffling as you try to look offended, despite the congestion ruining your tone. "Boring? You weren't calling me boring last night when I—,"

"Okay."

Aaron cuts you off immediately, already leaning down, pressing kiss after kiss to your face—forehead, cheeks, anywhere he can reach. You squeal in protest (or, well, try to, your voice is too weak for it to be truly effective), but he just laughs against your skin, relentless.

"Okay, I take it back," he murmurs, kissing your nose like an apology. Like a bribe. "You're the most exciting person I know. Now be exciting and drink some water before I have to force it down your throat."

"Force it down my throat?" you rasp, a weak smirk pulling at your lips as your fingers prod into his dress shirt. "You promise?"

"So inappropriate." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, but his hands are already cupping your face, his lips pressing to yours, like he loves kissing you too much to stop himself.

You barely have time to enjoy it before your brain remembers how sickness works.

"Wait, germs!"

Aaron just smirks, tilting your face up with a knuckle under your chin. "Since you brought up last night, that's an interesting concern, considering where your mouth was last night."

You should say something flirty in return. Something about how that was different because it was basically an act of public service (one you love providing). Because that's what you do. You throw him off, make him sigh like you're exhausting and adorable at the same time, watching his ears flush pink when he pretends he's not affected.

But the words never come, instead, your brain hands you a far worse visual. Aaron, like this, but worse. His face pale, head pressed against a pillow, forehead creased with discomfort he wouldn't acknowledge. You can see it clearly, the way he'd insist he's fine, the way he'd make it through a workday half-dead before even considering rest.

And suddenly nothing is funny.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt without thinking, like holding onto him will somehow fix the terrible, awful, no-good mental image you just had.

You're frowning, and you don't even realize it, not until Aaron does, his thumb pressing lightly against the center of your forehead, like he can smooth it away.

"I don't want you to get sick."

"My sweet girl," he murmurs, fingers threading through your hair once before he stands. "I can handle a cold. What I can't handle is you being miserable and dehydrated. Be good and let me take care of you."

Aaron disappears before you can argue and by the time he returns, a glass of water in hand, you've barely had a chance to process how much you missed him in those few seconds.

You watch as he puts it down on the nightstand beside you.

"There. Now drink."

"Yes, sir," you mumble, taking a few small sips just to prove that you're listening.

But if he really wanted you hydrated, he should've just kissed you again.

Aaron's eyes narrow, shooting you a pointed look.

You sigh, loud and put-upon, then take another sip, longer, just to appease him. You make a show out of it, before immediately reaching out, patting the empty space beside you with undeniable urgency.

Aaron snorts. "Didn't last long, did you?"

"I'm sick. I need warmth and love."

He exhales so dramatically, shaking his head. "If that's what my poor, suffering girl needs, then I suppose I have no choice."

Alright, theatre kid.

You bite your tongue, not because you're wrong, but because self-preservation is a skill, and you'd like to see another sunrise. And, fine. If he wanted to pretend like sitting still for five minutes was his own personal crucifixion, then who were you to deny him. It wasn't your fault, he ran himself into the ground, like he was trying to beat time himself, working to the bone until someone (you) had to physically drag him to bed.

You watch, maybe a little too intently, as he kicks off his shoes, undoes his belt, and swaps out his boring, stuffy work pants for the sweats. Your sweats. The ones you have a deeply personal attachment to.

You have history with those sweats.

"You know, you put those on and suddenly I start feeling a whole lot better." Call it divine intervention, maybe. "Do you think if you let me sit on your lap, I'd be at full strength again? Because I think we should at least try. For medical purposes."

Aaron settles in beside you, pressing one, two, three kisses to your lips, because he can, because he wants to. When he pulls back, he's smirking.

"Cheeky girl," he murmurs, thumb skimming your jaw. "And here I was, thinking you needed me to take care of you. Turns out you just wanted an excuse to climb all over me. How tragic. I've been completely fooled."

You brain-to-hand coordination is questionable at best, but that doesn't stop you from attempting to very subtly slip your fingers along the waistband of his sweats.

Aaron grabs your wrist instantly laughing—an actual, real, Hotchner laugh.

"Sweetheart," he muses, so damn amused, his thumb tripping over the pulse point of your wrist. "You can barely hold your head up, and you're trying to start something?"

"With a boyfriend like you, I'm like, legally required to start something."

Aaron lets out the longest, most suffering sigh known to man.

Like you said—theatre kid.

"Don't I know it. You're insatiable."

You open your mouth, fully prepared to launch into a passionate defense of you very reasonable levels of attraction to him, but a sneeze—tiny, weak, kind of embarrassing—ruins it.

Aaron's smirk evaporates. It happens fast, like a switch flipping, like he's just remembered, really remembered, that you're not at full strength, that beneath all your teasing, you're a little delicate, too easily worn down.

For a second, he just stares, jaw tight, brows furrowing ever so slightly, like the sight of you, flushed cheeks, fever-glazed eyes, pathetic sneezy, physically pains him.

And then you're moving, no he's moving, pulling you in, tucking you into his chest, as if you were something his hands were built to protect.

"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, kissing your temple, breathing against your hair, "disease-ridden and tragically adorable."

You sigh, shoving your face as close as humanly possibly, like some kind of human limpet. His heartbeat is strong beneath your ear, soothing, a constant thump thump thump that makes your eyelids droop.

"I really missed you today."

Aaron's arms tighten around you, but then you sniffle. Not the same pathetic little sound from earlier. This one's different. This one is softer, wetter.

He tenses just enough for you to feel it, enough to make you regret it, because now he knows.

You blink rapidly, tilting your face down, trying to breathe past the sudden, stupid sting behind your eyes, willing it go away before he—

Too late.

His arms loosen just enough to tilt his head down, scanning your face like he's already trying to figure out how to make it better.

You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm fine."

A lie. A bad one at that. So laughably transparent that even you wince a little.

Aaron doesn't call you on it, however, just pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your cheek, catching the tear before it falls.

"Oh baby," he breathes, voice a little rough, like he wants to pull the sadness out of you and keep it for himself.

He presses another kiss to your temple, then another, then another, like he needs to fix something unfixable, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck.

"You're killing me here."

You sniffle. Again.

"M'sorry," you mumble. "This is probably like... super unattractive."

Aaron shifts again, tilting your chin up as his thumb brushes against your cheek.

"Still the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he murmurs, but his jaw is tight, his fingers flexing against your skin. "I should've come home sooner."

"You wouldn't have lasted," you mumble, voice slowing, words dragging just a little.

Aaron raises an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because you'd stress yourself out." You hum sleepily, tracing absent circles against his shirt. "You'd take my temperature every hour. Make me drink disgusting tea. Then, once you ran out of things to fuss over, you'd start deep-cleaning the grout just to feel useful."

He snorts, shaking his head. "You make me sound unbearable."

"You are unbearable," you murmur, but your grip tightens around him, contradicting yourself entirely. "But in a very sexy, very productive way."

He laughs and presses a kiss to your temple.

"You know what would make me feel better?"

Aaron's chest rises with a deep inhale, like he already knows. His arm tenses around you. "Sweetheart—,"

You grin against his shirt, weakly.

"A very hands on wellness check."

Aaron chokes out a laugh, tightening the blankets around you. "Christ."

He presses one last kiss to your forehead and you think you hear him mumble should've seen that one coming under his breath.

You hum in agreement, mentally ranking all the times he should've seen something coming.

This moment, obviously.

The time he let you fall asleep on him once and then acted surprised when it became a permanent thing.

The time he told you to be serious and then immediately realized that was the worst possible way to get you to stop joking.

The time he tried to fight it, tried to keep you at arm's length, tried to act like this thing between you wasn't inevitable.

You should tell him. You should. But then he tucks you closer, breath hot against your temple. And before you can launch into your incredibly important findings, you're already too far gone.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony doesn't tell the Avengers about Peter's secret identity, but Peter starts coming over constantly and chilling around the tower, helping Tony in his workshop or eating dinner with everyone.

Since Tony is weirdly secretive about who the kid is, and the fact that Spider-Man is still a small unknown (presumably adult) hero who isn't on any Avengers radars, they all collectively come to the conclusion that he's Tony's illegitimate child.

Bruce: They do have the same eyes...

Steve: This is an inappropriate conversation to have. If Tony doesn't want to tell us then we shouldn't pry

Natasha: Tony doesn't even like kids. There's no way he would tolerate one if it wasn't because of his guilt complex. I'm surprised there isn't more little Starks running around considering his previous lifestyle

Clint: *cough* drunk slut *cough*. Oh excuse my throat, I meant to say he was a drunk slut

Natasha: Steve they're the exact same. Talk too much, too fast, genius brains that go right over our heads, stubborn, like to cope with humor, same body language. They'll have the same smile lines when Peter grows into them. The only difference is that Peter was raised with manners

Steve: I'm not saying I don't agree, I'm saying it's none of our business. Anyone with basic observational skills can tell they're desperate to fill father and son roles in each others' lives, but Tony's really weird about it, so we should let him keep it private

Clint: We probably make him nervous

Bruce: Because he thinks he's a bad dad?

Natasha: I think he's kinda good at it. Which is extremely unnerving

Steve: Honestly out of all of us I had bets on Bruce having a secret wife and kids hidden somewhere. Tony stepping up to be a father was lower on my list than Nat

Natasha: You have a list?

Bruce: You think I pull?

Steve: That's irrelevant. I think it's nice that they're so close already, but we don't need to press. It might mess up a good thing

Clint: Wait can we go back to this list business. Are these like pragmatic, military leader lists, or are these for pleasure? What other kinds of lists do you have? What about which one of us is most likely to turn on you. Or what you'd turn for. Oh! What about a list of all our weak points based on accessibility and intensity, with contingency plans in case of defection or aliens or brainwashing or alien brainwashing causing defection

Steve:

Natasha:

Bruce:

Steve: This is why Tony won't share his personal life with us.

They last another week before Clint, Natasha, and Bruce team up to steal a strand of Peter's hair and test it for paternity. Steve knows something is up, and follows Clint to Bruce's lab.

Steve: What are you doing...

Natasha: Admit it, you know exactly what we're doing and you want to see the results

Steve: I... well if you already have them there's no point keeping it from me

Clint: Tony Stark is not the daddy!

Tony: Which of my exes have you been talking to?

Clint: AH oh hey Tony didn't see you there

Steve: I'm not apart of this

Tony: Is this about Peter? He told me something plucked his head when he was walking down here. Which of you murder twins was hiding in the rafters

Natasha: Y'know he's not your kid, whoever told you he was lied to you and I hope you get your child support back

Tony: My kid? He's my intern. What funky kool-aid have you all been drinking, that boy is sorting my tool drawer right now. He has slightly better dexterity than Dum-E, it's been quite helpful

Bruce: You have really poor professional boundaries if he's just an intern

Tony: Okay fine. He's actually Spider-Man. I didn't wanna tell anyone cause the Accords were still fishy, but everything should be good now. Anyways, he really wants to train with you guys so you'd have to know eventually

Clint: Who the hell is Spider-Man?

Steve: That guy in Queens who helps bring in peoples' groceries?

Tony: Well, yeah—listen, he's like 14 and he just got his powers. I'm not exactly sending him to fight armed terrorists yet. He'll grow into it, but trust me, there's potential. I'm kind of like his mentor

Steve: You really don't need to do that

Bruce: Yeah we'll all help out from now on

Natasha: Don't take too much responsibility for the boy

Clint: Oh god what have you been teaching him?

Tony: Thanks for the vote of confidence guys. Whatever, now that you all know he'll be hounding you all day for advice anyways. Good luck with that. Friday tell Pete to come down here, the Avengers are gonna train with him

Tony leaves them all, snickering to himself as loud footsteps come crashing down the hallway. If they didn't know any better they'd say several elephants were tripping down the stairs. Then, the doors burst open, Peter's mouth already running a mile-a-minute.

Peter: Really, you guys know, you guys will teach me? Can I use the shield, Ms. Romanoff can you show me how to kick, show me with Mr. Barton, or, or Mr. Rogers. I can take down someone bigger than me, I'm actually really strong. Wanna see? Why are we in Bruce's lab, is that my first lesson! Can I touch this? What are you making here, how long has this been distilling, what about my webs, have you ever seen my webs? I did them myself, but I bet we could make them even better, watch out it's really sticky—

Steve ends up with webs all over his face, several of Bruce's beakers broken from the white spray, one reacting poorly with it and exploding all over Clint and Natasha. Bruce immediately shoves them into the decontamination shower, leaving them as two drenched rats wearing skin-tight combat gear. Natasha is already fuming at the thought of trying to peel it off.

Peter: I'm really sorry, I didn't know it was on ricochet... the splitter webs were just 'cause I panicked

Steve: This is why I told you all to leave it be.

"Noted," they all say in unison.

[idyllwave]

"You shouldn't be sitting that close on the curb, a car can hit you."

Jason didn't care, and yet he found himself talking to you anyway as he stood a little behind you, arms crossed and his head tilted down as he looked at you.

You, obviously not having a care in the world, still sat on the curb, legs outstretched as if you were asking a car to hit you. (Or crush your legs into bone dust.)

"I'll be fine."

You sound reassured as you focused on the road, eyes downcast and all. It made Jason groan.

He's seen this before. Witnessed it first hand. He guesses he should be grateful you aren't looking for a rooftop.

In the distance, he can see two headlights.

He looked back at you, "Listen, I don't know what your deal is, but whatever you're going through can't be that bad. So get your ass up before I drag you over to the sidewalk."

And it was like something clicked in your head as you finally looked over your shoulder to see him. Brows furrowed as you pursed your lips together, "wait, you're actually talking to me?"

The car started speeding faster and faster down the road, making Jason (who was still dressed as red hood) reach for you.

But you were already moving. You were faster than he thought as you stood in the middle of the road. Brow still furrowed as you looked at him.

The car wasn't stopping, wasn't honking it's horn. Jason panicked.

"Hey-"

Just as he stepped off the curb, the car already flew down the road.

But-

He took a step back. You didn't get hit. The car seemingly passed right through you.

"You can see me?"

Ok, so maybe he hadn't seen something like you before.

[nightingale-prompts]

Pre-wedding Blues-Beholder AU- DCxDP(Danny x Tim)

Beholder series

Tim fucked up. Like he fucked up bad. But he knows he fucked up.

He...um...

...Slept with Danny..

But not before...

...Kissing Phantom.

And all in one night so bravo.

This was a Bruce level fuck up. This family must be cursed with terrible relationship skills.

Before you say anything there is a perfectly resonable explanation.

Tim had a late patrol. Not because he was too nervous to return home now that he realized he had feelings for his unofficial roommate. No he was just making sure the city was free of rouges. He certainly wasn't brooding on a rooftop trying to push down his feelings because feelings were uncomfortable and weird. He doesn't brood, that's a Bruce or Jason thing.

Then Phantom flew by so he chased. And then a very dumb thought came to mind when he caught up. Maybe he didn't have feelings for Danny. Maybe he just thought Danny was attractive and Phantom was attractive too. Maybe he had a type for mysterious and dark men.

So they bantered a bit. He knew Phantom thought he was good-looking, so he went for it. And yeah, he liked it. Phantom must have, too, because for a moment, he leaned into the kiss. However, Tim felt like shit when he saw the fury in Phantom's eyes. Tim escaped after Phantom tried to rip his head off and knew if the ghost ever saw him again, he was as good as dead.

Tom knew he fucked up. He knew that Phantom liked someone else and that someone was likely Danny. But should he care if he also liked Danny? But if he liked Danny why would it feel good to kiss someone else knowing that it wasn't honest? Did he really like Danny then?

The questions swirled in his head as he opened the door to his apartment and saw Danny looking disheveled. He didn't even look at Tim as walked to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

"Danny is everything-"

"Its fine!" He said immediately as he took a shot.

It wasn't fine. Something happened. Was it connected to Phantom? Maybe a breakup? Tim couldn't be that lucky.

Even thinking that felt shitty. He shouldn't hope that Danny was hurt. But he still did hope Phantom would be out of their lives.

Says the person who kissed him as an experiment.

Danny paced mumbling to himself and cursing. Whatever happened it got him riled up.

Tim tried to get him to talk and then they sat down and had a few drinks and...

Well, Danny kissed him. A desperate needy kiss like it was the last one he'd ever have. And then one thing led to another. Tim still wasn't sure if this meant he was actually in love with Danny or was this was just him using another person. He had already betrayed the feelings he thought he had and now he was taking advantage of Danny's sadness.

But fuck, it felt so good.

In the morning he felt like he had grown devil horns and a tail. He was awful. There was no excuse for this. He had taken advantage of two people. He used Danny, his friend who trusted him because he couldn't control his feelings. He used Phantom in hopes to elevate his guilt for liking his friend by convincing himself that his feelings weren't real.

Where does that leave him now? Sharing his bed with Danny knowing he can't tell him any of this. What does that make them now? Friends? Friends with benefits? Boyfriends?

Whatever this was felt good but I also felt so wrong. Like he took a shortcut on a marathon route and still got first place.

Tim pushed these discorded feelings down as deep as he could manage. He wanted this right? Just yesterday we wondered what this would be like and now he had it and he had the nerve to complain.

Danny wanted HIM. He never mentioned Phantom so Phantom doesn't matter. Danny was sad and upset and Tim was there like a good friend comforted him. This is perfectly normal.

These thoughts were like the voice of a smiling devil on his shoulder telling him not to worry.

Tim thinks that this is probably what Dick calls a crisis and "needs brotherly advice". Tim hates to admit it but he needs to talk to someone even if its one of the chucklefucks he calls his brothers.

*****

On the otherside of the bed Danny was having a crisis of his own.

He was kissed by Red Robin and he even kissed back. How could he? He had a fiancé, a wonderful one at that. Had he really cheated on Tim?

They hadn't even kissed yet but there he was locking lips with a vigilante. He even had the nerve to wonder why Red Robin was so willing but his own love hadn't tried.

Danny wanted to kill that little punk for this but he knew he didn't want the Bat clan hunting him after. Still, it would keep what happened a secret.

Maybe this was his fault. He had playfully flirted with him in the past. So maybe he got the wrong message.

Danny retreated back to the apartment where he began tieing himself in knots trying to figure out if he should tell Tim. Tim didn't know Phantom but he should still tell him about the kiss. That would be honest, but if Tim knew he kissed back then that would hurt him.

By this point, a bit of alcohol told him the answer. If he's so worried about how unfair it was to Tim that he kissed someone else first then he should make it fair. Be bold and go for it. If he gives Tim everything then one little kiss is meaningless. Problem solved.

Isn't that how cheaters think though?

Of course not. Danny didn't even like Robin like that. Robin was cute and funny but his heart belonged to Tim. Plus Robin kissed him not the other way around. He's a victim in all of this. He can just overwrite this little mistake and make sure that Robin never breathes a word of this. Maybe send one of his ghosts Robin's way to remind him not to cross Danny. How else can he protect his future marriage?

The words felt slimy as they crawled to the surface of Danny's brain.

This was exhausting. Can't he just enjoy being with Tim without all this bullshit in the way? Seriously nothing can be easy in his life. He should talk to someone. Jazz always gives sensible advice but she gets so overbearing. OG Vlad gives the worst advice and the new one is only marginally better. Mom and Dad, no.

Danny needed someone older and wiser.

(a healthy dose of angst)(for flavor)

(Sorry no smut here. I'd have to write an alternate chapter for it for those who want to see it)

[deathbxnny]

Arcane ladies with a apathetic(?) fem s/o

Not really apathetic but you'll get it

Reader is willing to do some really fucked up shit for them

Manipulation, genocide, torture and other extreme things (she would never do that on them)

And she doesn't even try to hide that she's capable to do it for them

It doesn't help that reader is pretty strong mentally and physically (physically strong enough to break bones like it's nothing)

Strange request? Maybe, but thank you for reading it even if you don't do it :) (sorry for the bad english)

Arcane women with a Fem!s/o that would do anything and everything for them. | Mel, Jinx, Caitlyn x Gn!Reader

I actually had a lot of fun writing this, so thank you for your request! And don't worry, I understood what you meant so your English is just fine!!<33

Content: Reader is unhinged and morally dark grey, established romantic relationships, murder, death, manipulation, wlw, sfw

Reader is asked to be afab with she/her pronouns.

((Not proofread))

The limit is the sky, as they say. And yours goes beyond any measurement possible.

Morals are a suggestion, a human philosophy you didn't bother to abide by, especially when it came to the safety of your partner. Death, lies, and deceit were your strong suit, the only thing you knew to be excellent in the wake of total emotionlessness.

The only thing you cared about was your girlfriend's well-being, and that was it.

You were more than content with this arrangement and didn't try hiding your devotion to her either. She should be proud to have a lover like you after all. No one else would put this much effort into her... and she knows that, right?

》MEL

Mel is torn between her position as a councilor and being your lover. On one hand, she knows that she shouldn't be condoning or pardoning your crimes, no matter how much she feels for you... but on the other hand, the touch and love starved part of her practically beams with excitement at the blood that drips from your hands in her name. To have someone care for her so deeply was certainly not the norm, and so, she often chooses to just loom away.

She'll let you do your thing as long as you try your best and keep it under wraps, since she still had a reputation to uphold and couldn't justify your actions in public for obvious reasons. You two never talk about what you've done otherwise, though, making it an "out of mind, out of sight" situation. This doesn't mean that she won't sometimes watch you go through your extreme training just to see your impressive strength in action.

The moral dilemma of loving you will most likely haunt her forever, but that doesn't mean much to her in the long run. Your love is irreplaceable.

》JINX

You two are the absolute dream team couple, to say the least. The desire and devotion you share for each other is naturally overridden by any morals. Not that either of you ever cared about them to begin with. You fill the streets with terror and chaos, determined to make everyone see the strength of your love... even when you always took it way farther than she did.

Jinx battled with her mental health all the time, the scratchy hallucinations screaming and yelling at her at every mistake. That's what made her appreciate you so much more than others, her heart pounding against her chest whenever you return with bloody hands and tell her the atrocities you've committed in her name. It made her happy to know that someone could be as equally as obsessed with her than she was with them.

She will never let you go for as long as she lives, always the one to tell you how grateful she was for everything and anything you did for her. She knows that no one will ever love her so much ever again if it isn't you doing it.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was very much horrified when she found out about everything you've done. You'd argue that this is simply your way of showing love to her, but she had a hard time accepting it. She didn't want you to torture and kill others for her. It wasn't the right thing to do, and nothing she said could make you see that, too. Death and carnage was all the same, if it was in the name of love after all.

Alas, Caitlyn, for some reason, still never turns you in for your crimes, despite her position as an Enforcer. In a way, she's kind of in denial over the whole thing, going as far as to excuse the bloody stains on your clothes or your late night outs that would result in many dead. It wasn't you, surely. Hell, even you outright telling her that it indeed was you wouldn't be enough for her. Ignoring the problem is a much easier strategy than trying to admit that your girlfriend is a terrible person.

And so, you two never speak of it outloud. Deep down, she knows that one day people will catch onto what you're doing and perhaps prosecute you at last... but with how powerful and strong you are, she doubted that that would happen any time soon.

[shanastoryteller]

i'm going to move on from supernatural posting, i swear to god, but first i'm going to talk about ep 9x07 bad boys

the episode itself is fine and good (i mean it's another example of dean having a support network while sam can't have anyone and dean keeping secrets while when sam does it it's the worst betrayal ever but that's not what this is about and sometimes i think about what this show did two earnest, loving traumatized characters by turning them into the most tragic versions of themselves and - ok, this really isn't what this post is about)

but fandom interpretation of this episode actually drives me up a wall because it does a disservice to literally every character

one, john did not leave them without enough money for food. dean gambled it and lost it. there's nothing in canon to say that john was taking longer than expected, that they were running out of money, none of that. dean gambled food money and lost it and then tried to steal to make up for it. he was 16 when this happened and it was a bad decision but i don't think he should be at all vilified for this. he made a dumb mistake and then tried to fix it with another dumb mistake. john was right to be mad and sam was also right to tell him that he shouldn't beat himself up about it. just like with shtriga - yeah, dean was climbing the walls stuck in that hotel room. but you know who else was stuck in that hotel room? sam. and he didn't get a break to go play at the arcade. again, i'm not blaming dean here, he shouldn't have been stuck taking care of his brother that young and he was a kid and john leaving his his children behind while hunting a child eater, whether he was using them for bait or not, is crazy. but dean stealing food wasn't about john's neglect and all the sacrifices dean had to make for sam. it was about him trying to fix his fuck up

two, and this is the one that really gets me, dean didn't go back with john because he had to take care of sam

listen. listen to me. i am speaking from experience when i say this

parentified siblings are still, first and foremost, siblings. especially with only 4 years between them. the show shameless i think did an absolutely excellent job with this and is why i love the first few seasons of it so much. fiona is without a doubt parentified, she is raising those kids, but she's also clearly their sister not their mother

i know later seasons dean and fandom like to make it seem like dean literally raised sam and john was just a background figure but like. that's not realistic, and frankly doesn't even make sense

the reason dean leaves sonny and goes with john isn't because he feels like he has to keep him sam safe. it's isn't because he feels like he has to raise him. it's because he loves him

you are reducing dean to the most pathetic woe is me archetype with this interpretation and ridding him of all his rich loyalty and care and love to saddle him instead with comparatively flat duty. dean is more than sam's caretaker. he's his brother

there's also no reason for dean to feel this way. he just massively fucked up in taking care of sam - that's why he's with sonny in the first place. john has alternate people to take care of sam when he can't do it himself, as he has just proven, and while i don't think we should turn a couple teenage mistakes into making dean incapable, dean absolutely would - and did! he carries every fuck up regarding sam with him! so right now he's really, really low when it comes to his own estimation to take care of sam and leaving sonny because of that doesn't make any sense

but he looks at his brother and is reminded how much he missed him and loves him and realizes staying means he loses his brother. the good and the bad. so he goes, because he loves sam more than anything else

this is also why sam leaving for stanford cuts him so deep. that's why this moment is a parallel to that rather than being unrelated. stanford isn't about sam leaving dean even though he has a duty to care of him, because he doesn't. dean's 22 and at this point is always hunting with their father so there's no reason for sam to believe his presence is necessary for either john or dean's safety

no, dean's mad because he chose his love for his brother over a normal life and sam didn't

(sam didn't want to choose at all but this isn't about him)

anyway. dean fucks up sometimes and john sucks but not quite in the ways fandom thinks and dean loves his brother past reason or sense

[webslingingslasher]

j! its been so long but omg hi

i was super obsessed with ur frat!peter hows he doing?

i just saw a tiktok that was about a frat boy yelling at a party “if youre not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!” has this been brought up in the frat!peter circle?

i have so many scenarios in my mind like at the different stages! when they first started and trouble isnt super stable in the relationship and she goes to head out but peter (or ethan omg) grabs her arm and hes like ur part of that demographic trouble. im melting 🫠

or when theyre like broken up/taking a break and she goes to leave and peter goes all sad puppy dog eyes :((

omg yes queen::

*a little something ya'll can wake up to. <3

---

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

you hold in a sigh, the party's over. ally won't make it home with you tonight, she ditched you thirty minutes ago to 'go with matty,' aka, you won't see her again until tomorrow.

you glance down at your drink and debate chugging it, if you do you know you'll leave with a woozy stomach. you take two sips and dump the cup in the kitchen trash, it sends two empty beer cans falling, you shrug at the mess and keep walking.

a girl stumbles into your shoulder and profusely apologizes with tears in her eyes, you keep telling her it's okay but she doesn't let it go until her boyfriend nudges her out of the house.

the house music cuts, any stragglers were just seriously kicked out. you follow the crowd and prepare for the cold walk home, a hand loops around your upper arm before you can get through the threshold.

'where do you think you're going?' you turn around and grin at your friend. 'home? where are you going?'

'also home. i'm just waiting for everyone to clear out first.' ethan pulls you away from the dwindling party. 'you know, brother duties.' he sends a wink your way, you nod along like you understand.

'yeah, but i'm not a brother so i don't think i should help with that.'

ethan stops you again. 'parker is a brother, yes?' he is. he's also not there tonight. something about going to queens being more important than the typical friday night party. 'he is.'

'and you're fucking him, right?' you love when ethan has a little liquor in him. 'i am.'

'okay, so then you fit the requirements. hang back with me and we can go to my place together.' it's not a hard sell but you'll act like it is. 'are you sure? peter's not even here, do those rules still apply?'

'i'm a god damn chapter officer, i get to make the rules and it's everyone else's job to follow them. how about that?' you pat ethan's shoulder, you're not arguing one bit.

'can't fight you on that, can i? you twisted my arm good enough, lorax. i'm yours until peter gets home.' ethan holds out his hand, you shake it like it's a business deal.

'good. he told me to make sure you stayed.' he says it with a wink, a gentle suggestion he wasn't supposed to tell you that but you're glad he did. it makes you warm thinking peter didn't want you to feel excluded, especially because he was missing in action tonight.

'well... i am fucking a brother, right?'

'you are. and you know what that means? you have to stay here after every party.' he says it like it's a bad thing but you can get used to being on an exclusive guest list.

it feels nice. so, ‘hell yeah.’

-- vs. after the breakup--

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

hearing it makes you sad. no one's going to make you stay or tell you that those exceptions still apply to you. ally gets to stay here and you have to tuck your tail between your legs and scoot out the door.

'i can leave with you.' your best friend is kind for offering, you're an even better friend for saying no. 'that's okay, stay with matt.'

'are you sure? you shouldn't have to walk out of here alone, that kinda blows.' it does and you don't like the reminder. you'd prefer if ally stays, actually. you don't want her pity.

'it's fine. beats the alternative, right?' she looks at you to say what the alternative is, you do it with a sigh. 'fucking peter. that's my other option.'

'who said it had to be peter? there's like forty guys in the frat and you're buddies with at least five, take your pick.' you've thought about it but frat boys, especially the ones from sig nu, make you queasy.

'it's fine, ally-cat. i'll walk back with one of the other girls in our dorm.' the same faces you see in the hallway at your dorm are gathering their stuff to leave, they'll have no issue with you tagging along. 'boo. i miss when we would have frat house sleepovers.'

'good. blame peter.'

'and i do. he hates to see me coming his way, he really does.'

another brother screams out the same line, you frown and decide to leave while you still have friends in eye-distance. when you reach the door you look behind one last time to send a wave to your best friend. ally sends one back and blows a kiss with it. you catch it and slam it to your cheek, she giggles, you grin. your eyes flit up to the stairs, someone's already watching you.

peter sends you a sorry smile, he hates that you don't get to stick around anymore either. you match his melancholy and give him a shrug, more like a 'whatcha gonna do?' vibe. rules are rules and you're no longer a fitting member for the requirements they need.

'you can stay.' peter mouths it, you pretend not to know what he just said. 'wait.' you're still pretending, you turn around and walk a little faster down the steps- peter catches you on the bottom step.

'i said you can stay.' you have no reason to stay behind. you're not a brother and you're no longer involved with one. you point to an imaginary watch on your wrist, 'i'm about to turn into a pumpkin.'

'yeah, you almost left a shoe running out of here so fast, cinderella.'

you grin, 'i'm just following the rules.'

peter wavers his stance, he doesn't care who said what- he wants you to hang around a little bit more. he likes seeing you around. 'you're still included. i mean, we're involved, aren't we?'

you look at him like he's crazy, you swear you see him blush before he starts fumbling over his words. 'i just meant that i'm not moving on and you're not moving on and i'm trying to get things back to how they were- no, wait, i'm trying to get things better than they were before. not that they were bad! well, i mean they were bad but not... trouble, help me out here, you know what i mean.'

you do. you just like ignoring it. 'you're cute when you grovel for me.'

'i'll get on my knees right fucking now.' he's not even drunk and he's willing to beg for you in front of his party goers. you have to hold in a smirk of pride. 'to ask me to stay or to convince me with your mouth?'

peter's eyebrows raise, 'if you're asking me to go down on you the answer is yes. it's very much a yes, my place or yours? fuck it, let's go to the bathroom.' you're halfway back inside before you realize what you started.

you rip your hand away from peter, you refuse to go back to what it was. you need more than a few apologies to make you crawl back into his bed, you need a real confession. 'nuh uh, not happening. not in a damn bathroom.'

'okay, that's fine, my place is closer.'

you have to stop yourself from following him a second time. 'no, wait! i meant no, it's not happening. period.'

'i don't care if you're on your period, i'll still do it. that's how committed i am to you.' you manage to keep from gagging at the visual, instead you shove peter's shoulder. 'ew! you're so gross! i'm not on my period, you dolt. i'm just not having sex with you.'

'cool, don't have sex with me, let me just show you i can still make you come in under five minutes.' he has no idea how tempting it is. you're being braver saying no than he is for asking, post-breakup included.

'go find another girl, i'm sure there's a whole line-up waiting to get picked on.' peter's nose wrinkles, he doesn't even think of it as a cheap shot. 'gross, other girls are icky.'

you shut it down. 'peter, i'm not a brother and i haven't touched you in two months. there's no reason for me to still be here, goodnight.' you try to leave, a whine follows behind you.

'but you're still-'

but you're not, no matter how much he says it.

'if you changed the rule to 'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or used to fuck a brother, then get the fuck out!' how many girls would stand around and wait on you?' peter looks at you, he doesn't say anything and silence always screams that you're right.

'mhm. rules are rules, goodnight.'

there's a sense of succeeding when all you get is a wistful goodbye behind you. it lasts until the next week when the routine friday night party comes to an end with the normal call.

'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or go by trouble, then get the fuck out!'

ally squeals and tells you 'that's you!' but you're too busy glaring at peter's smug face to celebrate. it's his turn to shrug, his mouth forms four words that fuck you over.

'rules are rules, trouble.' 

[caught-in-the-infinite]

"You had sex with Bob?!"

John, Ava and Yelena are on the deck of Avengerz Tower. They are outside talking about - well, that didn't matter - they are talking about this now.

"Yeah," says John, reluctantly. "About six weeks ago."

"Six weeks!? Is that why he's been weird...er than usual?"

"No, yes, I don't know. I don't want to talk about this. Look, it happened, and it was not great, and here we are. I don't think he even remembers. He eyes went sort of - " John wiggles his fingers "- when he finished."

"Did you talk to him about it after?"

"Yeah, all he said was it was a 'crazy night' and then ran away from me. I'm pretty sure that means he doesn't want to talk to me about it. Or ever do it again. Which is fine by me."

"So are you gay now?" Ava asks.

"No."

"Bisexual then?"

"No. I'm straight."

"You just said you had sex with Bob."

"Yeah, and I don't think I need to adjust my sexual identity after ten minutes of mediocre love making."

"Love making," Ava snorts.

"Ten minutes," mocks Yelena.

"Mediocre?" says Bob.

"Hey...Bob, how long have you been there?"

"OK," Yelean says, taking charge - again. "You two should talk about this me and Ava will go inside now."

John and Bob both give her "don't leave me out here with him" looks but she ignores them and leaves with Ava.

They stand in silence for a mintue. And then a minute longer. Bob shuffles on his feet. John turns to look over the city.

"I'm sorry," John says. It seems the best place to start. "I shouldn't have. But we did, and it was not great. And now we're here. I miss being your friend, can we just go back to that?"

"It wasn't very good, was it?"

John, checking that the doors to the tower are closed and no one is lingering close enought to hear. "It was bad. It was just bad sex that we shouldn't have had. I didn't know what I was doing, you didn't know what you were doing, neither of us should have been trying to do anything."

"Oh, I know what to do. I just let you take the lead." Johns face does something at this revelation. "You seemed really keen, and I liked it when you kissed me up against the wall. And you seem to like it when I pushed you onto the bed. But then not so much for the rest of it?"

"How many men have you selpt with Bob?"

"Oh," Bob thinks for a moment. "You're probably the third straight guy I've had sex with." Johns face does something else while Bob is still thinking. "Fourth? Maybe?"

John wonders if he jumped of the tower if he would die if he hit the ground below. Instead he says the thing he actually has wanted to say for the past six weeks.

"Do you think we should try again?" John likes Bob, and he hates being bad at things.

Bob smiles, takes a step to press his side against Johns. "Depends," he shurgs, John can feel the movement. "How well can you take instruction?"

It's the fucking sexiest thing John has ever heard - and he'll examine that thought never. He turns to Bob. "Can I kiss you?"

Bob smiles and leans in.

The kiss is very good. John knows he's a very good kisser. He hopes to get very good at everything else.

[lovely-peace]

Embarrassing!

Summary: The marauders are popular in school, sure. But that doesn't mean that they are really nice. In the end you are just living the basic high-school experience.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 2 Part 3

"You four back there, pull yourselves together now or I'll break you up!"

James' laughter could be heard all the way to the front, to my ears, along with the giggling of the girls next to me.

Great. So I must have been wrong again.

Professor McGonagall was now looking at me, teachingly. "To get back on topic. You have the right idea, but it's not quite that simple. To transform a body, it is of great importance…"

~

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. You weren't that far off the mark." Lily tried to comfort me. That was easy for her to say, she would never be wrong.

And the golden git Gryffindors would never make fun of her.

"Maybe."

"Evans, will you come here?" There stood the loverboy James, ready to have another go at her.

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled apologetically at me. "Don't take these idiots seriously, okay?"

With that, she walked in his direction, and did just that.

But I shouldn't be so hard on her because she was really trying to cheer me up, even though we're not really friends. She's clearly, well, more present than my friend Amy and me.

Amy was Gryffindor just like me, but didn't have transfiguration. She called the subject "A walking unnecessary babble".

Oh how I wish I had thought that when I chose my subjects.

I could still see Sirius grinning as James talked to Lily, Remus just stood there ashamed and Peter patted him on the shoulder.

Sirius noticed my look and whispered something to Remus, who flinched and turned away. I snorted.

Sirius' laughter was still ringing loudly in my ears, long after I had escaped to Amy's and my dorm.

~

"Well, I think they're really annoying. That's all." Amy pushed a plate of dinner towards me. She immediately realized something was wrong and I wasn't ready to go to dinner. I was very glad she was so good at the invisibility spell.

"Yes, but everyone likes them. Even Lily likes the four of them, even though she's always upset about them!" I groaned loudly and accepted the plate gratefully.

Amy looked at me with a smile. "Well, I don't really like them. They're entertaining, but I think they lack empathy."

"I think they're all stupid ego centers who only make themselves so important because they actually feel so bad about themselves." I took a big bite.

"And yet you can't stop talking about the four of them." Amy was grinning now. "I thought you said the other day that 'Remus isn't actually that bad and nice to talk to'?"

I almost choked at the mention of meeting the quieter boy of the group. It had been three months since we had met and talked in the library.

"That was something else. He just watches and lets the others get away with everything." I quietly turned to my food and Amy dropped the subject.

Oh, how I hated this cycle. Getting up. Eating at a house table where I know everyone and yet no one really. Subjects in which I will eventually make a mistake. Skipping meals to avoid the stares. Sleeping.

Hogwarts isn't that different from other schools. The same faces making fun of the same things. But we're all supposed to be adults soon, aren't we?

I should stop before I sound like an angsty teen.

~

Breakfast. New day, same course. I sat down opposite Amy and a laugh escaped my lips at one of her jokes.

But then another girl sat down next to me. Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey, you two, how are you?" she smiled, but something made me uncomfortable.

"Good, good." Amy laughed. "And you?"

"Oh, just fine." Marlene looked at my plate as if to check something. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable having a few chocolate cookies in the morning.

She turned to me. Oh no.

"Hey, this might be a bit sudden, but I'd like to know something." There was this twinkle in her eye that I didn't like at all.

I looked at Amy, who just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay?" Very carefully. Don't make any big mistakes.

"If you had to date someone from Gryffindor, who would it be?"

I looked confusedly at Amy, who had to pull herself together not to burst out laughing.

"What?"

Marlene shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was just a bit curious as I've never seen you in a relationship with anyone before."

I saw her eyes twitch briefly to the right. When I looked in that direction, not very inconspicuously, I saw Sirius whispering something to James. He grinned at Remus in response.

Oh.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone right now, sorry Marlene."

She looked at me in surprise and wanted to say something, but Amy gasped in shock. Shocked, she clutched her chest. "After everything we've been through!" she didn't exactly say that quietly. To my dismay, quite a few heads turned towards us. Including the idiots.

"Amy-" I began, but she talked herself into her theater rage. "Hush! I don't want to hear any excuses! I thought we were something special! But no. In the end, I'm just another one of the many picks that will never be taken." She stood up. She skillfully looked away and took in the audience. "I can reassure you. I was prepared for all of this."

"Amy, it's not what you think!" I played along a little now. "I couldn't be so open about something so… Say something like that!"

Amy furrowed her brow. "Girl, no homo."

The Gryffindor table laughed and we fled the room.

Outside, we also laughed a bit, but Amy quickly composed herself.

"Did you see how he looked at you?"

I furrowed my brow. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, of course."

"Maybe it's because you made a big show," I said playfully, heading towards our next class.

"Hmm, but I think then he wouldn't have looked at you so longingly-"

"Amy!"

"With red cheeks and big heart eyes!" I walked faster while she laughed.

"That's all nonsense. Marlene only asked because one of those idiots requested it."

Amy looked at me confused. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh, they were looking at us too. And yesterday they were whispering among themselves. They probably find me really funny."

Amy became very quiet after that.

The only sounds were our footsteps and voices in the distance.

"You know," Amy began quieter than usual. "It's not like it used to be. We're all slowly growing up. We're not the odd ones out anymore. I think," she took a deep breath. "That the four of them won't make fun of us, of you, anymore."

How much I wished I could believe that. But I won't be able to, even if Remus talks to me in the library or Peter asks me if I like certain creatures.

Because in the end, I gave up on that a long time ago.

[222col]

bimbo!reader x art donaldson

summary: your friend goes missing...

cw .ᐟ missing person, murder

꒰ notes ꒱ more of joe goldberg!art

art had been so good recently. kept his emotions in check, didn't make an rash decisions. he was focusing on you, wasn't letting anyone get in the way of your relationship. until, of course...

"artie!" your bloodshot eyes appear unannounced at his dorm, thank god he'd already gotten rid of the guy in his bathroom. his heart clenches at the sight of you, sniffling through your tears as your hands reach out for him immediately. art's already working out a new hiding spot at the sight of your tears, and he doesn't even know what happened yet.

his strong arms carry you into his room, cradling you in his lap, stroking through your hair as he waits for you to be ready to speak. he'd never rush you, art does everything at your pace. "my– my– she–" you mumble, choking out the words through sobs. "what is it, princess?" art coos, gently tilting up your chin to force your eyes onto his.

"y'know my friend lexi?" oh, fuck. he definitely knows lexi. lexi is currently in the trunk of his car, he was planning on discarding her body today, before you arrived. shit, shit, shit.

art nods softly, pushing down all feelings of panic that are threatening to boil over. he has to be here for you right now, not thinking about himself. "yeah, baby, i know lexi, she lives in your building, right?" of course he knows that, it's where he killed her. "mhm, yeah," you mumble, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you sniffle through more sobs.

"she's– she's missing," you whisper, as though saying it any louder would make it more real than it already was. your lip trembles as your doe eyes look to art for comfort. "oh, princess," he murmurs, pressing his lips gently to your forehead. christ, was this girl miss popular or something? art only killed her in the early hours of the morning. fuck, he's in deep shit. she's still in his fucking car and the whole campus is looking for her.

no, it's fine. a missing persons report can't be filed before she's been gone for twenty-four hours. art has time. the police will think she's just some college student who got too drunk and didn't come home. she'll turn up, they'll say, don't worry. yeah, she'll turn up. in a fuckin' ditch somewhere as soon as art's ready for her to be found.

and hey, look, art didn't have a choice, okay? he's not just some psycho that kills people for the fun of it. it's not fun. it's fucking hard work, actually. he had to find out exactly where she'd be, when she'd be alone, make a copy of her dorm key, make sure her roommate was out. and that's all before he killed her. he had to get her body out, unseen, bleach her dorm, get her into the trunk of his car, and he's still got to get rid of her body, now with everyone looking for her! it’s fucking hard to be a serial killer. especially one that doesn't get caught.

it's her own fault. stupid girl shouldn't have been bad mouthing you like that. to do it so out in the open too? bitch had it coming. yapping around campus how she only kept you around 'cause other people liked you. nuh uh, no one talks about art's girl like that. she'd been getting too close to you anyway, it was only a matter of time before art took things into his own hands.

"oh, baby, i'm sure she's fine," he murmurs, rubbing up and down your back under your, his, sweater. art's trying so hard not to let his mind run away with him, especially with the feeling of your skin under his and how fuckin' pretty you look with tear stained cheeks and that pout on your lips. "she probably just stayed at some frat boys house, lexi can be like that." lexi can be a slut, is what art's trying to nicely say. always dragging you with her to stupid frat parties, that art hates you going to. he's the only boy who should be seeing you all dolled up.

brows knitted, bottom lip still poking out as you meet his eyes again. nodding in agreement, always taking art's words as gospel. he would never lie to you, right? "think you should stay here, until she's back though, baby." art murmurs softly, holding your cheeks in his hands, breath ghosting across your face. any excuse to have you staying with him, he'll take. "yeah?" art hums, a smile threatening his features. poking your side, making you giggle, when you don't respond to him.

"yeah, artie." you mumble, smiling up to him. you're too easy. he'll have you convinced lexi was a horrible person by the time he's even dumped the body.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[wolfiesmoon]

I can't sleep

Ran x good girl!reader

Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all

(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)

edit: i made a part 2!!

"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.

You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.

"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.

"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.

"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.

"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.

But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.

"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.

Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?

This might just be the worst day of your life.

You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.

.

"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.

Oh my god, you're actually doing this.

He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.

"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.

You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.

Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.

Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!

You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!

He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.

Still, kissing him isn't half ba-

Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.

You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.

Why did you ever agree to do this?!

.

That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.

"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.

"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.

Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!

"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.

"Sorry!~"

Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.

It's Ran.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.

"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?

"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.

You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?

"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.

"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.

"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...

He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.

"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.

"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.

"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."

"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?

"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.

"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.

"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.

"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."

[sanaexus]

pass pass- oh smash. -oikawa toruu

the inarazaki volleyball team was nothing short of chaos. be it the twins bickering, suna recording every fight, aran cheering them on, omimi's loud sighs of disappointment, kita's scolding and the manager's threat was something that happened on a daily basis, it was normal.

but despite all that nothing changed the fact that they were all extremely close, specially with the manager. in the past all most all the managers quit because of how patient you needed to be dealing with the havoc they created. but you were different. dealing with their bullshit every day, helping them with whatever they needed and just being a friend they really needed.

while to anyone outside it may have seemed like you have romantic feelings for one of them and that's why you chose to become the manager, so you could be closer to them. but that really wasn't the case. the last thing you'd like was one of those hooligans.

it was supposed to be a normal practice match with aoba johsai, but this was inarizaki they were talking about, of course it wasn't.

no one knew you were dating oikawa. no, everyone just automatically assumed you were with atsumu. they weren't exactly to blame, you were close to him but that's what happens when you know someone since your childhood.

to say you were tensed about the match was an understatement. not only about how this was going to end on the court but about how the teams would react if they somehow got to know you were with oikawa.

but it was as if luck decided to make a complete fool of me their entire team came barging in, the loud entrance made everyone flinch for a second as they stared at the door.

now you were panicking and omi being the actual saint he was asked you, "are you alright?"

"no, fuck shit no, do i look alright?" i was pacing back and forth trying to hide my face thinking about ways to hide myself from oikawa or at least let him no that he shouldn't approach me.

"are you alright you look like you just saw a ghost"

"that's because i saw someone worse than a ghost! oh my godd can i call in sick please?" you pleaded with him, trying to find any excuse that would get you out of here.

"no. why would you want that, what happened?"

"i'm kinda maybe sorta might be dating someone from seijoh"

"what's the problem, he's in seijoh this is volley- wait you have boyf- WHAT?"

the yelling had caught the team's attention as they look at the both of you confused.

"WE'RE FINE, NOTHING HAPPENED" as you glare at omi "shhh are you trying to get me killed here? the problem is he is the volleyball team and is kinda the captain of the team. i'm just gonna pray he isn't stupid enough to approach me here with these creatures all around me"

"praying isn't going to be enough for what the twins might do to him if they find out."

cue the bad luck as kindaichi and kunimi wave at you, surprised you're standing at the other side of the court. your hands frantically making the cross sign across your chest mouthing "stay away, you don't know me"

"oh wait how about you text him or something to like not come up to you and you'll explain later"

"ohhh my god you're a genius i love you omi"

as you whip your phone out going to text iwaizumi with your hands shaking.

-IWAIZUMI HELP

why do you look like you're about to pass out? are you fine?

-it's because i might pass out any second. my team doesn't know i'm dating oikawa

oh

-yeah tell him to not approach me please if they find out i'll be dead

i'll do it. good luck w this mess

-thank you i owe you big time

you look up from your phone to talk to omi- "i told his bestfriend to tell him to not approach me that should work right?"

"why didn't you tell him directly? what if he thinks he's just saying it so he stays focused"

"ohhh you're like SUPPER smart, i dont know what i'd do without you"

"probably have your little affair get caught"

you just mutter a little "rude" before going to text oikawa. but before you can, he comes in yelling.

"Y/NNN CHANN I MISSED YOUUU" his whiney voice can be heard to everyone as he jogs his over to you.

you sigh, knowing what's about to go down. "hi oikawa, i missed you too.." you whisper so only you can hear it. and before you can process the entire inarizaki volleyball team (and seijoh) is surrounding the two of you.

suna could careless about who you dated, if you were happy he didn't mind it. but this was something that was both surprising and funny, so of course he had to record it.

it was confusing to the team because up until now they were under the impression you were dating atsumu.

"wait wait wait what does he mean by he missed you? are you two friends?" osamu was curious, he knew you weren't dating his brother but he thought you liked him.

oikawa dramatically turned towards you "you haven't told them?"

"ladies, ladies there's enough of me to go around" which only brought you deadpan looks from both the volleyball teams "ok sorry, my bad for being funny"

"wait what does he mean you haven't told us??"

"we've been dating for a year, the last thing we could be is friends-"

"you're dating him? I thought you were with atsumu?"

"atsumu? i thought you were dating suna?"

"why me? i didn't even do anything keep me out of this?"

"NO WHY WOULD I BE DATING EITHER OF THEM?"

"what's wrong with us?" suna and atsumu asked offended.

"shut up i've seen you eating sand and you ask me what's wrong with the two of you?"

"y/n chan, what's going on?" kunimi asks curiously. the seijoh's team just stood there watching you, oikawa and the inarizaki members going back and forth.

"all of you shut up, we didn't even let y/n explain properly"

"oh my god thank you kita-"

"you don't like the twins?"

"KITA?! no oh lord i don't, i've been dating toruu for the past year, i never did and never will like any of these hooligans, no offense"

"HEY! that's rude-" before atsumu could whiney any further osamu smacked him in the back of his head, which shut him up immediately.

"what about the rumors of a girl making out with atsumu? that wasn't you?" suna finally asked, genuinely wanting to know more.

"Y/N-CHAN YOU MADE OUT WITH PISS HAIR? WHAT?"

"no oh my god toruu I didn't-"

"oh, that wasn't her that was just a junior i dated."

"yeah that wasn't me wait ew juniors? really atsumu?"

"she was cute! don't shift this on me"

"but guys seriously i never had have or will like anyone from the volleyball team. i'm sorry i hid it from you guys, but i was just scared of what you guys would think"

"are you happy? does he keep you happy?" aran asked borderline choking atsumu.

the question caught you off guard but instantly a small smile replaced the shock on your face "yes, he does, he's stupid but he really does make me happy"

"then that's all that matters"

"aww thank you-"

"nuh uh, i don't approve, what if he's a playboy?" atsumu disapprovingly shook his head praying aran's hands off him.

"oh god no one wants to hear that from you" suna shut atsumu up.

atsumu quietly huffed a "rude"

"well now that that's sorted, we should probably get back to warming up"

"yes thank you kindaichi, finally a normal person"

"y/n?" aran called out to you.

"yes?"

"just because your boyfriend's in that team doesn't mean we'll go easy on them, we'll just be rougher with them"

"if it makes you win, be my guest."

this was a bit awkward to write and I'm not proudest of this either but we'll js roll with it

@daisy-room here you go mam hope I did your idea justice divider credits to @/v6que