#I swear it's why I look forward to fighting the guy.

[stridingseer]

I think the only reason that Krauser is That Character ingrained in my head is because he genuinely has the most fun boss fight and encounters that you get in game. Prior to his fight, you don’t really have a reason to even USE the knife unless it’s to break boxes and knife to end enemies. Not in Krauser’s fight where he straight up absorbs your ammo like nothing which is already vastly different from the other bosses you’ve fought so far with the knife being one thing that he’s weak to. 

the original RE4′s story is so thin that you end up remembering the gameplay which is REALLY fucky when you bring in characters and you really only remember fights and those set pieces. You can remember Mike because he mows down enemies FOR you, helps you get through the last section of the island and so forth. You can remember cabin for Luis because cabin is a mess and can get ugly so quickly (he’s nice enough to hand you enough handgun ammo to keep going). The rest of the character building happens in cutscenes and outside of Salazar (of whom Leon has ridiculous exchanges with the most), you honestly don’t end up remembering much within these cutscenes. I know I sure don’t even though I’ve cleared this game THREE times in a row already. It’s all the gameplay. 

Krauser’s fight just happens to be QTE hell but you WILL remember it because guess what? There’s the laser room right after and then you have his formal fight after U3 which happens in stages. Previously you were just gunning down enemies as usual with the regenerators being the exception. It’s genuinely so much fun that you want to have a save at Chapter 5-3 JUST to go through it again. Even if it’s to flex on your friends to show how cool this game is. The entire island is just a joy even IF it’s just to go through that QTE with Krauser and to visit those regenerators (derogatory). 

Everything about the sections in this game are so out there that yeah, these moments where it’s not shooting enemies becomes highlights or it’s the painful sections that haunt you. Any section where you constantly die becomes a sour spot but they’re the parts you remember and any change in pace means something memorable. 

The sheer video-gamey nature of this game means that you remember some things more than others especially when it comes to boss fights. 

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: older!rafe, age gap (college senior with rafe in his 30s), secret dating, angst, fighting, suspected cheating, name-calling, swearing, pet names, rafe grabs the reader’s face, spanking, spanking with a belt, bdsm, wet and messy, squirting, edging, multiple orgasms, threats, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial and control, rough sex, fingering, manhandling, soft!rafe at the end, praise, dirty talk, brat taming, teasing

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This was not a kinkmas ask, but I made it one 😋 The premise is that Professor!Rafe has been distant and now after cancelled plans you want to know what the hell is going on.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The brisk December air bit your cheeks as you stepped out of your apartment and headed downtown. Christmas lights glowed warm along the street, but your mood was anything but light. You stuffed your hands into your pockets; your arm looped in your friend’s, head tilted on her shoulder as you suffered in silence.

All your finals were done, a long, relaxing break to look forward to, but all you could do was think about him…

For months, you had been navigating your whirlwind romance, secretly dating your Professor—sexy, intelligent, successful… And you had fallen hard against your better judgment. It was wrong… It was risky as hell… But it was real. Or, at least, you thought it was.

Lately, though, Rafe has been pulling away—canceled plans, vague apologies— his lingered gaze that you had gotten so used to fizzling away. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration. A night away, just the two of you, celebrating your completion of the semester and a week of rest and relaxation for the both of you.

He hadn’t even brought up winter break… Rafe wasn’t looking toward the future anymore. He was completely checked out.

But tonight was different… He canceled, and unlike before, you didn’t ask for an explanation. And to your disappointment, he didn’t give one either.

“Forget him,” you grumble, momentarily wallowing in self-pity.

“Forget who?” Your friend asks with a laugh as she squeezes your arm a little tighter.

You bite your lips, taking a shallow breath as you let those two words slip your lips. “This guy from my econ class,” you lie. “He blamed our B on me…” Another lie.

”Who complains about a B in college?” Your friend scoffs and laughs, tipping her head on yours. “Forget him? Fuck him…”

“Agreed,” you smile, the wavering in your tone making her raise an eyebrow, pressing again.

“Is that why you didn’t want to come out?” She asks as she softens her voice. You flutter your lashes, feeling the emotion you’ve been pushing down bubble up in your chest.

It’s not like anything has happened… Nothing has happened, as a matter of fact. He was giving you nothing, yet you felt his silence was speaking louder than any words could. And who could you talk to about it? No one.

“Babe?” She tries again as your friends walk across the bustling street, heading into the flooded downtown area.

“Just not feeling like myself lately…” Your voice floats away with the winter wind as you see Rafe open the door, holding it open for a woman to pass through.

He looks handsome in his fitted suit and black wool overcoat, his hair brushed back, giving you a glimpse of his perfect face and chiseled features.

Your friend coaxes you forward, but your body freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. You watch as Rafe and a beautiful woman in a powder pink dress fall out of sight, disappearing behind the doors of The Flora Room.

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” She asks, shaking you playfully to get you out of your daze.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” One of the girls in your party calls out. You look around the little town square, seeing bar after bar, knowing it would be a tough sell to get your friends to sit down even for a single drink in there when they could buy three shitty drinks for the fee of one overpriced martini.

You watch your friends drift to one of the downtown sports bars, but you keep your feet grounded. Your friend reads the room, hanging back with you, following where you lead, her curiosity piqued.

“You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” She mumbles from the corner of her lips as the two of you pass through the doors.

There’s no bouncer at the door; your shoes don’t stick to the ground with each step. Screaming, laughing, and a deep bass rumbling from the speakers are exchanged for light conversation and piano music. It’s rich and elegant, the polar opposite of what the two of you are used to on a typical night out.

“We’re just gonna sit at the bar,” you smile at the hostess, who extends a hand, ushering you back. Your eyes dance around the space, looking for Rafe and the women as you feel your anger and unease fester.

So busy you couldn’t see me, huh? You seethe as you position yourself just far enough away from him.

The situation is hard to read—a party? You look at the group he’s with; the lot of them dressed to the nines. Watching with your breath held as she laughs, his head tilting slightly as if the woman said something clever.

She looks sophisticated and expensive, her curves hugged in a dress that seems to have been made for her. She reaches out, squeezing Rafe's bicep as she chuckles again, making your stomach churn.

The bartender rests your martinis in front of you. You keep your eyes locked ahead; the tears in your eyes sparkle in the bar lighting. It's impossible to see without blinking, but you know the second you do, they’ll fall.

Your friend's hand rests on your thigh, and with that little bit of physical contact, your eyes shut. Tears roll down your cheeks and fall off your chin. She looks ahead, following where your attention was paid before looking back at you and back at him again. “Oh…” she breathes, before her eyes widen.

“Yeah,” you whimper, knowing she put two and two together. ”Just don’t-”

”I won’t say anything,” she assures before you can even finish, reaching over, blotting the tears off your cheeks with a bar napkin.

You reach in your purse, hands tightening around your phone, and without thinking, you open the text thread… The one where Rafe left you on read.

You: We’re done.

You watch as Rafe’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He adjusts slightly, looks at the lock screen, and sees the notification with your name on the front before stuffing it back in his pocket, not giving it any more attention.

Missed call after missed call; text after text… It only took a few blocks before Rafe finally pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave you the time of day.

You couldn’t help but give him a similar treatment, watching as all his attempts rolled in, you not making any effort at all. You look over your shoulder as you walk into your apartment; there are so many texts from Rafe that you know he can’t be far behind.

You pace your apartment, just waiting for the inevitable. Regardless of what that was or what that wasn’t, he’s been ignoring you. How simple would it have been to let you know where he was going and the real reason why he canceled?

That woman—who the fuck was that? A friend, I’m sure… But you couldn’t even fathom Rafe watching that all go down. He would feel the same fucking way, especially if you were giving him reasons to worry before.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

You hear Rafe’s heavy footsteps on the other side of the door, making your stomach sink, jarring you out of your thoughts.

“Baby,” Rafe’s familiar voice called from the other side. “What the hell is going on, huh? Open the door.”

Your fingers curl into fists by your sides, annoyed at how easily Rafe could demand your time. How he only seemed to care when you sent those three words. “Go away!” You shout, feeling goosebumps spread across your body.

“Not fucking happening,” his tone was firm—the frustration bled through his words. “Open the door.”

“No.”

“You kiddin’ me?” BANG. He bangs his fist against the door in frustration. You hear his voice soften as he gets closer to the door's seam. “What the fuck is going on?” He hisses.

“Why don’t you tell me,” you step a little closer as well.

“If I knew, I would apologize. Alright? I got nothin’ to hide from you-”

”Bullshit,” you cut him off. “Who was she, Rafe?”

“What?” He cries out as he jiggles the door handle rapidly, testing it and then testing it again. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“The women from the bar, Rafe. I was there.”

“Princess… What the hell?” He breathes. “You don’t understand, baby. C’mon.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, Rafe,” you snap as you bang against the door yourself. “You’ve been ignoring me for days, you barely look at me anymore, you're canceling our plans, not telling me where the hell you’re going, and then I find you on the night we were supposed to actually spend some goddamn time together flirting with someone else. Yeah, Rafe. I understand. You’re a liar.”

Silence falls heavily outside the door. You furrow your eyebrows, looking through the peephole straight at your neighbor's door, your heart breaking when you don’t see him on the other side.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, making your heart leap.

Rafe: Have a great night, sweetheart.

“You’re joking me,” you huff as you push out into the hall, gasping as Rafe pushes you back in.

“I love you. But you’re being a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts as he lets the door clap shut behind him before dragging you a few steps to your room, slamming that door as well.

“You have five minutes to explain, Rafe,” you shout, “then I’m kicking you out.”

“Five minutes, sweetheart? After all this time? That’s generous of you.”

“Talk or leave,” you snarl before Rafe shoves you down on the bed, making you gasp again as he mounts you fast, his hand slapping against your mouth, holding it shut.

“Stop fucking testing me and listen. Alright?” You mumble underneath his trembling palm. “If I lift my hand, you’re gonna listen to me, do you understand?”

Your eyes narrow on his, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. “I’ll tape your mouth shut if you won’t listen to me. You know that, right?” He asks in a gentler tone, contrasting his dark words.

You roll your eyes, finding yourself getting more annoyed by the second. “The fuck has gotten into you, huh?” He asks as he looks down at you below him, wearing a new defiance you’ve never shown before.

He lifts his hand, and you huff out a breath, scowling as you look up at him. The older man looks back at you with the same disgusted look.

“What, Rafe?”

“There’s been a rumor circulating around the campus that a professor has been sleeping with a student… I’ve been dealing with that—I have not been avoiding you for any reason other than that. And that woman… That woman who could never be you, princess, is not who you think. Okay?”

“So, who is she, then?” Your glare softens slightly, the bite of your tongue still there. “Because you sure seemed like you were enjoying her company, Rafe.”

Rafe sighs deeply, dragging his hand through his hair as he steps off the bed. “She’s the new University President… That was the faculty Christmas party. I forgot to tell you because I was too caught up in all this shit.”

”You forgot?” You ask. Rafe is taken aback by your attitude, even after telling you everything.

“Yes. I forgot,” he answers, his tone sharp. “Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to protect us,” he chides as he gestures between you. “The scandal, the risks… You kept sayin’ everything was fine, so I wasn’t worried. I have never worried about you.”

You feel a slight guilt creep in, seeing him so vulnerable. You would be lying if you said you didn’t assure him everything was okay and that the two of you were fine. “Well, maybe if you’d told me, I wouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

“Assumed the worst?” Rafe’s scoffs, his frustration crystal clear. “You mean accusing me of cheating and ending things over a text? A text? Because that’s a rational response right there, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”

”You don’t get to turn this shit around on me, Rafe. You’ve been distant. When I told you I was “okay,” I wasn’t… Didn’t you notice a change between you and me? Couldn't you hear it in my voice that I clearly was not okay? You’re so distant. It’s like we’re not even together-”

“I’ve been distant because I’m dealing with this—this shit has real consequences, princess. This isn’t a fuckin’ game. If anyone finds out about us-”

“Then talk to me!” You yell over him as you step closer. “You’re acting like I’m irrational. I would have understood. All you had to do was tell me what’s going on!”

“And all you had to do was ask instead of throwing a fuckin’ tantrum,” he shoots back.

Your jaw drops, temper flaring even more. “A tantrum?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. “A tantrum. You’re acting like a spoiled brat-”

”Fuck you,” you hiss. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“What the hell?” He laughs at you weakly, looking back at you like you’ve gone completely mad. “Where’s my girl? What the fuck is happening?”

“Do you need help finding the door or what?”

His eyes widen; the man struck utterly silent. “Please tell me you haven't been feelin’ this way the whole time we’ve been together,” he asks, the exhaustion of the fight wearing on him as he looks back at you, shoulder slumped, breathing heavy.

“The last few weeks, yeah-”

“But not the whole time, right?” He asks, the tone of his voice letting you know you both know the answer.

“No… Not the whole time,” you mumble.

“Couldn’t have given me the benefit of the doubt, princess? I mean hell, sweetheart. You could have looked around the goddamn bar. What the hell would I be doin’ hanging out with your Econ teacher if I could be spendin’ the night with you? Why would I be rubbin’ shoulders with Dean Richardson— your Dean, by the way, unless I had to, huh? Don't you think I’d rather spend my night with you?”

You look back into his piercing blue eyes, your cheeks burning with a mix of shame and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but he steps toward you fast, standing above you as you sit on the edge of the bed. You squeak as he grips your cheeks in his big ringed hand, forcing your gaze.

“I love you, princess… But you need to grow up. Use your words. Stop jumpin’ to conclusions and start cuttin’ me some fuckin’ slack.” You mumble, but he pinches your cheeks even more. “Stop cuttin’ off before I can explain myself.” Rafe slots himself between your thighs, loosening his hold slightly.

“I…” You hesitate, taking a little breath as you look at him. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“No.” Rafe silences you as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Apologies are fine, but you need to listen. This isn’t some fling. This is real. And if we’re gonna make this shit work, you have to trust me. Even when it’s hard,” Rafe whispers, letting his lips graze against yours.

Your heart pounds in your chest, thighs drawing in slightly. “I trust you, baby,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe pulls away, his gaze softening more than before, but his frustration hasn’t completely faded from his beautiful blue eyes. “Then show me… Stop playin’ these games.”

“I wasn’t playing games,” you protest, but he cuts you off with a look that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

“You sent me a breakup text, then ignored me when I came here to fix it,” he chides. “I’m not some frat boy—not some college kid you can pull that shit with. Aight? And if you don’t think that little stunt you pulled is a game, I don’t know what is. Do you know how many times I called you?”

“I texted you too, and you ignored it,” you mumble as you look away, feeling the weight of his gaze as your face heats up.

“N’why do you think I had to do that, huh?” He adds condescendingly.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Knowing that answering a text from you, a mid-faculty party in the light of a scandal, probably wouldn’t have been Rafe’s best move.

“We’re done with this little back-and-forth bullshit. If you have a problem, tell me. And if I screw up, I’ll do the same.” You nod, looking at Rafe again as he cups your face, his rough thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Rafe…” You pout.

“Yes, baby,” he responds gentler than before.

“Why aren’t you talkin’ about the future anymore? I know you wanted to take the heat off us but didn’t even ask what I’m doing for break. You didn’t even make plans with me-”

“Shh…” He shushes you as he looks down at you tiredly, about ready to lose his mind that you’re still challenging him in some way. “Take out my phone,” he mumbles. You lower your gaze slightly, reach into the pocket of his dress slacks, and pull out the device. “Your birthday, baby,” he hums his passcode. You unlock the phone, looking up at him again. “Open my email…”

You pull up Rafe’s Gmail and see the confirmation for the Four Seasons Resort and Residences in Vail, with your name attached to the reservation made a week ago.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” He murmurs as he grabs the phone off your hands, tossing it to the side.

“I’m sorry-”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“I mean it, Rafe. I-”

“You think you can sass me, throw a tantrum, and walk away without consequences?” He mumbles. “I think it’s time someone teaches you a lesson about being a brat, princess,” he whispers as his lips find your neck, licking and sucking your hot skin, making your pulse race.

Rafe’s loosened tie hangs from his neck, sweeping against your thighs as his teeth graze along your ear. You grab it, pulling him toward your lips, making him chuckle against yours.

“Got some shit you wanna say, sweetheart?” He laughs darkly.

“Maybe I like being a brat, Rafe,” you whisper, feeling him smile against your lips.

Rafe kisses you deeply, sucking off your bottom lip, taking it between his teeth, nipping with enough pinch to make you whimper into his open mouth. “Then I guess this is going to be a long night for you, princess,” he rasps as he grabs your tights between his fingers, ripping them open. You inhale sharply as he cups your pussy in his big hand, rubbing your sex over your wet panties.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he slaps your cunt, making your thighs draw in just for him to force them apart. He continues to tease you over your panties as he gathers your hair with his other hand, tugging it back.

“These last few weeks… Fuck, they’ve been frustrating, huh?” He asks as he pushes his big fingers into your entrance, the threshold of the wet cotton blocking him from going any deeper than a knuckle deep. “And you’re gonna misbehave? Make it harder on me? You know I could have just taken my frustration out on this pretty little pussy, baby,” he mumbles as he hooks his finger around your panties, pulling the fabric tight, making you whimper.

“Rafe, please-”

“We’re at the finish line. Two days away from a vacation that I’ve been plannin’ for weeks. That I was gonna surprise you with… and you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ brat? What’s that about, huh?” He asks as he paws off his tie, tosses it on the bed, and pops open the buttons of his shirt one by one.

You take in his gorgeous body as he exposes more skin—his broad chest and his cut abs, the deep ridges of his v-lines kissing the top of his pants. You bite your lip, stripping yourself of your tattered tights and clothes as he undoes his leather belt, releasing it with a crack before tossing it on the bed.

“Stand up,” he orders, and you do as your tummy flutters. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.” Rafe reaches for his tie, running it through his big fingers as he takes in your body. “Wrists, baby,” he mumbles against your neck as he stands close, his rock-hard cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe binds your wrists and grabs your hips, sitting down on the bed, guiding you to lay over his big thighs, your ass in the air. Rafe’s rough fingers drift up the back of your legs, making you tremble, your wetness already weeping from your aching hole.

He chuckles as he runs two thick fingers right through it, taking it between his lips, moaning around his digits. “Fuck, princess… You’re a problem aren't you? Gettin’ wet off this shit, huh? Like gettin’ yelled at and punished.”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“Yes, what, princess?” He groans as his hand comes down on your ass, making you cry out.

“Yes, sir,” you sniffle. “I like getting yelled at and punished.”

“Atta girl… Look at you. Already turnin’ that little attitude of yours around, huh?” He asks as he thrusts his fingers in your pussy, making you wail. He fucks them into you fast and hard, your warmth squelching lewdly.

You crane your neck, eyes widening as he goes for his leather belt. You struggle slightly, your natural reaction to move away, but his big arm wraps around you, holding you in place. “Think you’re gettin’ away from me?” He chuckles. “Not a fuckin’ chance.”

CRACK.

Rafe delivers a loud smack on your supple flesh. You let out a loud cry, feeling the sting and tears welling on your waterline.

“You had a lot to say before, baby,” he mocks as he drags the leather up the back of your thighs. “Where did my bratty little bitch go, huh?” He mumbles as he lands another hit, making the tears spill over.

Rafe tosses the belt to the ground, plunging his fingers into your slickness again, only to find that you’re even wetter than before. “Stop enjoyin’ this shit so much, pretty,” he breathes, his smug smile heard in your tone as he curls his fingers inside you.

“Yes, baby,” you moan as your head falls forward, feeling yourself about to cum around his big fingers. “Oh, Rafe.”

“Mmm… I should stop, shouldn’t I?” He asks as he continues his brutal pace.

“No… No, please,” you sniffle as you feel your body tighten around him, your peak approaching fast. You lift your ass in the air, following his fingers as he pulls them away gradually, yanking them out right before your body gives way. You gasp, breathing heavily as Rafe robs you of your orgasm, your heart banging in your chest.

“How do you think it felt gettin’ that text tonight, hmm?” He asks as he lifts you off his lap, shoving you on the bed—your chest on the mattress, and your feet on the floor. “The love of my life… The only thing-” CRACK. He spanks you yet again, making you scream. Rafe laughs mockingly into his next couple of words, “The only thing that has ever truly mattered to me,” he mumbles as he lowers himself to his knees. The warmth of his breathing hits your throbbing cunt. “Broke up with me… through a text message. Fuckin’ insane, right?”

His tongue plunges into your drooling hole, fingers swirling on top of your throbbing clit making your thighs tremble. Rafe sucks and tongue-fucks you like a god, taking you right to the edge of ecstasy again. Your muscles clench, fists balled up, rising on your tippy toes reeling, and right when you're about to break, he pulls away again.

“Rafe, please!” You sob.

He steps forward, the front of his muscular thighs flush with the back of yours. You whimper as he draws away just enough; his swollen head rubs through your drenched folds, teasing your clit, toying with your glossy hole ‘til you’re burying your face in your comforter.

"Beg for it, princess. C’mon…” He whispers as he taunts you with his tip.

“Please…” You beg, lips quivering with every breath. “Please… I’m begging you, daddy. M’sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you whimper. “I love you… I love you so—oh, fuck,” you cry as he sheathes his cock into your swollen cunt.

Rafe grabs the edge of his tie, knotted around your wrist, using it as a hold to fuck into you deeper, gliding into your greedy hole, your body quickly cumming around him, pussy flutter wildly, but he just keeps on going.

He yanks the tie, pulling it loose. He flips you to your back, looping your legs over his shoulder before plunging in again. Rafe brings his big body closer to yours, folding you in half, toned hips clapping against your body with each rough stroke.

“Didn’t ask for permission, princess. Creamin’ around my dick when I should be usin’ you like my personal fuck toy...” You follow his gaze, looking down at the place where you context the creamy ring of your arousal glistening around his thick base, the picture alone leaving you feeling like you could cum on sight. “You better ask… I know you're about to cum again. And if you do-”

“Rafe, I-” You grit your teeth, fighting back another orgasm you know he’ll deny.

“I’m not done talkin’. Fuck, have you learned nothing?” Hot tears roll down your cheeks, wetting the bed below as your body shakes. “If you cum without askin’, I'm gonna tape those pretty little lips of yours shut, grab that vibrator from your nightstand, and have you cummin’ ‘til you pass out.”

“Please. Please. Please,” you sob.

“Might do it anyways, princess. It’ll be good for you…”

“Rafe!”

“Cum for me, baby.”

You grab the edge of the bed, holding on tight as Rafe makes good on his words, taking his frustrations out on your tight cunt as you squirt around his length.

"There you go, fuckk. There's my girl,” he murmurs, smiling smugly, tilting in and kissing your forehead sweetly, his punishing strokes telling a different story entirely as he chases his climax, emptying himself in your fluttering cunt with one final thrust.

Rafe lowers your trembling legs, dragging back, but you grab his hips, pouting your lips and shaking your head ‘no.’ He smiles down at you, lowering himself to your lips, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper.

“Don’t be, baby. I never want you to think I don't care. Okay? I'm sorry… Should have let you know what was goin’ on. I should always be takin’ care of my girl,” he mumbles between gentle kisses. “You were right. Alright?” He whispers before kissing your forehead.

“I thought you didn't want to be with me anymore…”

“That’s crazy, baby. ‘Course I do. I was serious; you're the only thing that truly matters to me…”

You bite your lip, smiling into your kiss. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, princess.”

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

Omg!! Think you can do the opposite version of the hickey ask? Where the guys notice a hickey and get all jealous n’ pissy🤩 i love it & your writing🥰

Ha! Anon, you have me giggling and kicking my feet. The hickey ask anon is talking about can be found HERE, but I absolutely love the idea of doing the opposite. Instead of a hickey on one of the guys, it's on reader. hehe. (oh god I need to go touch grass or maybe use my teeth to the mow the lawn right now because I am salivating).

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, possessive behavior, rough kissing, secret relationships, suggestive themes, jealousy

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John’s grip on your upper arm is a vice.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, voice low.

“Let go, John,” you snap. “You’re going to cause a scene.”

“Am I?” he counters. “Everyone’s already been talking. You’re showing that thing off on your neck like you’re proud of it.”

“Maybe I am,” you reply. “Why do you care?”

With a quick tug, John plasters you against him. His body is all heat and muscle. Everything in you ramps up, becomes wanton. It remembers him.

“Who the fuck touched what’s mine?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.

You swallow. Shake your head. “I’m not yours, John. You always push me away.”

John’s lips come dangerously close to yours. “Tell me who touched you.”

“You did. Don’t you remember?”

You feel him freeze, as if his mind and body are frozen as he tries to recall what happened. The two of you had been drinking when you slid into his lap.

John closes the distance, stealing a kiss that is more possession than anything else. The sensation goes straight down to your toes, and pools between your thighs.

“Come back to my office.”

“John—”

“I want to recreate last night.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“No. No. Don’t walk away from me.”

Kyle’s hand grips your wrist. He tugs, pulling you back in his direction. Kyle is right there, standing so close, head bent forward with intimacy that sinks down into your soul and shatters everything you are.

You cannot resist this man. Never.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting this way, Kyle.”

Kyle grasps the side of your face, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip. “Because someone marked you. I want to know who it is.”

Does he not know? Does Kyle not remember?

Kyle licks his lips and you follow the movement, remembering how he tasted last night.

“Tell me who it is. I just want to talk to them. Set them straight.”

You laugh and Kyle frowns.

“You’ll be talking to yourself,” you reply.

His mouth opens. Closes. Kyle’s hand drops away from your face to settle on your shoulder, fingers delicately tracing the mark on your neck.

“I did this?” he asks, almost absently.

“You did,” you affirm, heat rising to your cheeks. “Last night.”

Kyle smirks. His gaze roams upward, meeting your own. “Want me to give you a few more? Doesn’t have to be on your neck.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Oh, love. What’s this?”

You lean away but Johnny is quick. He corners you, pressing you into the wall. He’s smiling, but you can see the underlying irritation. His gaze roams all over your body.

“Need something?” you bite, knowing that if the two of you linger here too long, someone will come looking or accidently happen upon you.

It’s not like Johnny is being discreet. He has one knee between your legs, and a hand on your hip. It’s a possessively intimate embrace, and it reminds you of all the things the two of you did last night.

“Aye. I do actually.” Johnny lightly pinches the mark on your neck and you flinch.

“What the fuck?”

“Who gave you that?”

You blink. “What?”

“The fucking hickey. Tell me so I can beat their fucking face bloody.”

You roll your eyes and Johnny pinches you again.

“Stop that.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll be fighting yourself, Johnny.”

Johnny’s demeanor completely changes, becoming a sultry thing that swirls pleasure deep in your belly. This time he doesn’t pinch. He leans in, running his tongue along the mark. When he pulls back, he grasps you tight, pressing his lips to yours, stealing all breath.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re mine,” growls Simon as he picks you up and sets you on top of your desk.

You have no space to argue. Simon is already kissing you. Nipping your lips. Drawing forth a bit of blood to suck into his mouth.

“I know,” you whimper as his hand squeezes your thigh, dragging you to the edge of the desk. His hardness grinds against you, and you moan.

“If you know, then tell me why someone else has marked what’s fucking mine.” Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you back, and holding firm. Your fingers claw at the front of his shirt.

“What are you talking about?”

Simon growls. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You blink. Completely confused. “You gave this to me.”

Simon says nothing. He just stares. “Last night.” You shrug. “I mean we drank a lot but fuck. Thought you’d remember that.”

Simon gently eases his hand from your neck. “I don’t. But you know what that means, love?”

You suck on your bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood that Simon coaxed to the surface. “What?”

“Just means I need to give you a few more. As reminders. For you. And others.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23

[maxlarens]

MV: YUCK! ⭐ part one

pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader

summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.

fc: daisy edgar jones

a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)

⭐️ next part

(instagram)

@ynusername just posted…

tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing

liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others

ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.

user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵

⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that

⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?

⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!

user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!

⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war

user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.

redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)

⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?

⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them

⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends

user10 RAHHHHHH

user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋

danielricciardo Fuck me

⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off

⤷ danielricciardo 😬

danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!

⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes

⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.

⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!

⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.

user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?

⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤

(yn’s messages)

(twitter)

(instagram)

🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…

liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others

ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately

user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos

⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx

ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY

⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY

⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker

⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u

⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig

user2 slay! 🫶🏻

⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻

danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…

⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel

⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?

⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting

⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole

⤷ danielricciardo 👀

user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻

⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!

maxverstappen1 Nice pants

⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)

📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️

✨ next part

[bunni-v1]

Thoughts on a threesome with Lighter and Harumasa

MDNI!!

Tw: NSFW; VERYYYY OOC lol; double penetration in one hole (only mentioned at the end lol); Rough sex; Fem! Reader; unedited and written with a serious fucking migraine like my god

I’m so fucking sick today but I had an idea so… imagineeeeee with me if you will…

You and Lighter are walking around New Eirdu, picking things up for the girls, running errands, usual shit. It’s a nice little routine thing the two of you have. He gets his job done and gets to spend time with you, win win!

He turns around for one second ��� literally one second just looking at some flowers (for you, btw) — and when he turns back around your attention is occupied. Not only is it occupied, but it’s taken by Asaba Harumasa. Sweet talking, ever flirty Asaba Harumasa.

He’s not a bad guy, honestly, Lighter doesn’t dislike him. You’d mentioned once or twice how you knew the guy. Some kinda old fuck buddy, it wasn’t anything Lighter cared about too much. You were his partner after all, it would be stupid not to trust you.

Him, though, Lighter didn’t trust him one bit. Not with the subtle touches and the unnecessary flirty comments. He watches you two veryyyy carefully, taking it all in until he can’t take it anymore and he has to pull you into his side.

“Oh! Lighter, fancy seeing you here~” Harumasa purrs in such a sickeningly sweet tone.

He makes it very clear that you and he are and item, but that only seems to egg Haru on further… His little comments getting more and more bold, pointed and intentional in riling him up. You’re stuck in the middle of an ego war that you can’t break up (and have no idea why it’s happening).

Then, somehow, the conversation is steered toward your sex life. No one is really sure how or why, but Harumasa and Lighter are having a literal dick measuring contest in front of you when Harumasa suggests that they should “Find out who you like better.”

Anddd that’s how you ended up with Lighter pounding into your sopping cunt from behind and Harumasa fucking your throat like it was the end of the world. Their little competition forgotten in favor of making you squirm beneath them <3

You’d cum at least four times now and they seemed determined to make a fifth. They alternate what their hands are doing occasionally. Sometimes Harumasa is pulling at your hair, other times Lighter’s squeezing your tits in his hands. Regardless, not an inch of you is left untouched by either of them.

Harumasa pulls out from your throat, and in your fucked out state you try follow him only for Lighter to tug you back by your hair. You don’t even try to fight it when he manhandles you into a sitting position on his lap.

Your pussy is literally drooling down both of your thighs, and Lighter scoops some of it up and tastes it. Harumasa smiles at the sight, seemingly quite satisfied with himself, “Can I have a taste?”

You expect Lighter to maybe let him eat you out, or even just pick up some with his own fingers. Instead he pulls Harumasa forward and kisses him. You can only watch with big empty dazed eyes as they do so. You swear you hear Harumasa moan, but just as you’re getting to enjoy it, they seem to remember you’re there again.

“Feeling left out, baby?” Lighter hums as his fingers find your clit, rubbing fast circles.

Harumasa pushes your legs open, the two of them working to readjust you so your legs are thrown atop Lighters, Haru sliding himself between them. “I think she is, poor thing…”

You most certainly were not, but you weren’t going to say that. Lighter slides out of you, and you literally cry out at the loss of him. “Aww, I told ya she likes it. Look at her cryin’.”

Harumasa laughs dryly, tapping his member against Lighter still moving fingers, “Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel more secure.”

You whine at their arguing and they both coo back at you like you’re some kind of pet. They were plotting something sinister, you could feel it in the way Lighter kept pressing the tip of his dick against your ass. Certainly they didn’t expect you to take them both at the same time.

“There’s only one good way to determine who’s the best, right?” Harumasa purrs, nudging Lighter out of the way so he could properly tease your cunt.

“Mhm…” Lighter hums, “You can take both of us at once, right?”

Fuck.

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying. 

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that. 

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe. 

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can. 

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook. 

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves. 

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?” 

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.” 

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die. 

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?” 

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.” 

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office” 

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys. 

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something” 

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?” 

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night” 

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating? 

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about” 

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry” 

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something. 

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee. 

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it? 

“It was uh okay” 

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones. 

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that. 

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

Forgetting an anniversary

A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—

Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.

Not really proofread

I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—

Lucifer:

To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.

This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.

You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.

For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.

He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.

So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.

When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.

However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.

You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.

Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.

(And he is)

He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.

All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.

This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.

This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)

Vox:

Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.

This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.

He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.

The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.

(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)

So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.

He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.

He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch

A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.

His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.

The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.

But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.

(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)

Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.

Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;

“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”

“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”

“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”

“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”

He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.

Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.

By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.

And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.

His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.

To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.

He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.

(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)

Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.

Alastor:

He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.

You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.

But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.

Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.

He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.

He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.

(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)

He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.

Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.

He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.

Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.

He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.

He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.

He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.

You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.

And this absolutely gets under his skin.

Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.

Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.

Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.

Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.

You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.

You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.

Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.

(At least that’s what it felt like)

The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.

“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”

Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.

But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.

Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.

His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.

(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)

He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.

The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.

He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham

So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago

Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!

Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!

Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!

It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!

He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.

He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!

He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events

He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)

He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)

He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"

He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.

He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.

He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"

...

This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!

I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.

Later that night:

Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?

Batman: Wait wha-

...

Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!

Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?

Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.

Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐩 (𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩) | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: a random man breaks your phone and runs away before you can even yell at him. he becomes your archenemy when you learn that you lost hundreds of photos of your children. and by “your children”, you mean pups—seal pups.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist! fem!black!reader

from, serene: do not post any gifts you get on social media. that's how people get robbed /srs. i'm trying to make my reader's have different personalities but i think i failed with this one. i'll try on the next smau. happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc | next ↻

messages • yn -> coral (yn’s coworker)

twitter • alex_albon

twitter • sealteamsix

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter dm’s • alex -> yn

messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm’s cont. • alex -> yn

messages cont. • yn -> coral • alex -> max please unmute us gc

igstory • seallygirlyn just uploaded!

[caption1; optimus prime being a very brave boy while being weighed][caption2; cutely decorated suspicious packages are about to be unboxed. if i'm inactive just know alex_albon is responsible!]

alex_albon: his name is optimus prime 🥹🤧 seallygirlyn: it's adorable right? seallygirlyn: when he first got rescued he was fighting with another pup named megatron, so the naming was easy lol

coral: that looks like a lot more than an iphone 🤨 seallygirlyn: i told him to keep it reasonable! but i fear he went too far,,,

user: wow he was really serious about finding you. lwk kinda sweet. it's giving loverboy. 🤭 seallygirlyn: loll don’t read to far into it! he’s just a generous guy ☺️ user: if you say so….

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm’s • yn -> alex

instagram • seallygirlyn • august 26th

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, coral, and 17,364 others

seallygirlyn when you ask a man to replace your phone that he broke, he might buy you the newest phone and a bunch of other things (you told him not to get !!) you can't buy my favor, yk? fish says thank you for the stuffie. thank you from me too, alex_albon. this is seriously too much to give for a broken iphone.

view comments

seallygirlyn: going to miss using a flip phone lwk...tysm alex_albon i made it look all pretty in the basket in hopes it fixes your lightly ruined public image

➥ alex_albon: am i forgiven? ➥ seallygirlyn: i already forgave u alex, i told you this 🙂 ➥ alex_albon: just wanted you to say it where everybody can see it! they're still slandering my name ➥ seallygirlyn: you can replace my phone and my dying ipad but, you can never recover my lost seal photos :( ➥ alex_albon: i will pay for your icloud storage from this point forward until my dying breath ➥ seallygirlyn: i need that in writing with a signature ✍️

coral: i told you alex is a good guy! that's why he's been my favorite since f2!!!

➥ seallygirlyn: he's been moved from biggest adversary to occasional nemesis status ➥ alex_albon: that's improvement, i'll take it! thanks for supporting me from before the start, coral! dedicating my next points to both of you! ➥ coral: imgoingtofaint 😵‍💫

georgerussell63: ah. this must be why alex made me pay for his mcdonalds the other day. he spent all of his money on you

➥ alex_albon: GEORGE PLEASE 😟😣 ➥ user1: george is such an instigator. he lives to stir shit up i swear ➥ user2: russell, george. professional cockblocker extraordinaire.

user3: it's a little odd that a man would buy a woman he has no romantic interest in so many expensive gifts....

➥ user4: lol these gifts aren't expensive. the cost was nothing to him, he's an f1 driver and she's nothing compared to him 😒 ➥ user5: jealous little girl alert user4 🚨 ➥ user6: she's nothing compared to him? the woman who works tirelessly to rehabilitate seal pups and release them back into the ocean—the woman who's actively conserving the ocean and protecting marine life, is nothing compared to him? the man who drives an f1 car in circles? try again, girly. you're just jealous any RESPECTABLE man wouldn't give you the time of day. ➥ user7: CLOCK IT ➥ user8: read you like a book user4 🤣

user9: you have an orange cat named fish 🥺

➥ seallygirlyn: yes! isn't he the sweetest boy to ever exist? ➥ user9: i'd kill for fish 🫶🏻

user12: fish and his stuffie are the cutest!!!! i just wanna bite him

➥ alex_albon: not as cute as seallygirlyn ➥ seallygirlyn: ...who asked you? are you calling fish ugly?? ➥ alex_albon: what? NO !!! i was calling you cute?! ➥ user13: that was difficult to read ngl ➥ user14: mission failed. we'll get 'em next time.

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

seal you later taglist (ask to join):

@poppysrin@everythingabby101@mangotaitai

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.

[minjix]

just saying → Vinnie Hacker x female!reader

summary: in which Vinnie doesn’t like your boyfriend

a/n: hello, it’s been a while lol, 2023 was literally the worst year of my life but 2024 will be my year.

warnings: swearing, fighting and blood

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

Vinnie never liked him, from the moment you told him about the new guy you met, to the moment he met him face to face. He never hid it either. A grimace of disgust tainting his face when your boyfriend was around. It got to the point where everyone took notice of it and sided with Vinnie; your boyfriend sucked.

He was never on time, even on date nights and always left the bill for you to pay. When Vinnie found out, he was sure he hated the guy's guts. Every complaint to you about your boyfriend ended with a not so nonchalant shrug and “just saying,”.

It got to you, it really did, especially when the tattooed blonde distanced himself, much to your boyfriend’s enjoyment. He knew he wasn’t well liked, and it gave him an air of confidence, Vinnie would go as far as to call him borderline fucking sadistic.

He remembers the day vividly when your boyfriend waltzed into the room with you in tow and that stupid smirk on his face. Vinnie immediately disliked him, purely because of that fucking smirk that spoke a thousand words, ‘I’m better than you’, blah blah blah, Vinnie knew his façade was a pile of stinking bullshit.

“Who are you?” Vinnie snorted as he leaned back on the couch, legs spread. Although the question was directed towards your boyfriend, his eyes were glued to yours, his gaze heated.

“Uhm, guys, this is my-“ he interrupted you. Vinnie didn’t like that at all. He forced himself to take a deep breath, fidgeting in his seat to get comfortable. It didn’t work. “I’m her boyfriend,” he gloated with a nasty grin, and Vinnie was caught off guard by your soft smile directed towards your shitty boyfriend. It was a punch to the gut, seeing you with heart eyes not looking at him.

“Boyfriend?” Noah gaped at you, his eyes sneaking looks at Vinnie to gauge his reaction. He looked upset, and Noah knew why, but Vinnie himself wouldn’t admit it. He was stubborn that way, enough to break his own stubborn heart.

You smiled sheepishly, shy from the feeling of vulnerability that took over you as every pair of eyes in the room stared you and your boyfriend down. You hadn’t anticipated their negative reactions, it made you confused and disappointed, and a small tinge of embarrassment grew in your gut. Shame set your body alight, why would you be embarrassed to introduce your boyfriend?

“How long have you guys been dating?” Vinnie asked, a fake smile on his lips, it made you cringe. You knew Vinnie, both in and out, and you knew when he was genuine. He wasn’t now.

You turned to your boyfriend, tongue tied, “uhm, well we went official three days ago-“ he interrupted again. You really wanted to disappear.

“Babe,” he chuckled in a tone that Vinnie knew was condescending. “They asked when we began to date, not when we became official.” duh, you thought to yourself and quickly nodded with a small and strained smile.

You felt embarrassed, if he had let you finish your sentence then he would come to find out that you would’ve answered Vinnie’s question.

“Uhm-“ you stammered, he interrupted once again, sighing, “two months babe, two months.” Your stomach was hurting now and your face was burning as did your palms, so much so that your boyfriend let it go to wipe his palm on his jeans. ‘Oh god’ you felt mortified, hoping no one noticed the gesture despite standing on display in front of your friends.

Vinnie spoke, his eyes dark, “Maybe, you should, oh- I don’t know; let her finish speaking?” Vinnie glared at him, his posture less relaxed but he was still in the same position as earlier, though his hands twitched.

“Excuse me?” He took a threatening step forward, but you intercepted him quickly with a forced laugh, “okay,” you dragged out, “how about we stop this, and leave.” So you did.

Vinnie texted you an hour later, an apology, ending with him admitting to not wanting to lose you over a petty dick measuring fight. You reassured him that you weren't the type of person to throw away friendships for one guy.

He read the text with stinging eyes and a chewed up lip. He genuinely thought his chest was about to cave in, he saw his future, a future of which he painted with you by his side, hands intertwined with loving whispers in your shared bed, hidden from the world under the covers. It all fell apart. But he knew better than to admit his feelings to you. You were everything good in this world and he knew he wasn’t enough.

—————

Vinnie wasn’t a stranger to sarcasm, neither were you. Your new boyfriend on the other hand seemed to be.

It was supposed be a relaxed get together, celebrating summer with barbecue and drinks,

It was painful to listen to Vinnie disrespect your boyfriend whilst the boy in question unknowingly agreed to it all.

“You’re one of the nice guys, huh?” Vinnie smirked, his eyes mischievous as he stared at your boyfriend. His blood pumping the liquid courage through his body. Oblivious, he answered with a chuckle. “Yeah, totally dude, I hear it all the time.”

You went to interrupt before Vinnie took it too far, but your boyfriend quickly dismissed you with a hand on your thigh and a slurred whisper of “shh let ‘im speak, babe”

Vinnie rolled his eyes at the site, jealousy growing with each sip of alcohol. “Must be your pride and joy,” Vinnie murmured and your boyfriend huffed, “of course I pride myself in being a humble guy.”

“Vincent,” you snapped and Vinnie’s eyes went wide. “That’s enough.” You stared Vinnie down and he kept his eyes locked on yours despite your glaring, though your glaring eyes quickly turned soft the longer you stared at each other.

Your boyfriend spoke up, snapping your attention to him, though Vinnie didn’t care to remove his eyes from you. His eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugged down the corner of his lips, it looked ridiculous. “Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?” His words sounded forced as he spoke through clenched teeth.

You flinched from his words, your brows furrowed as you stared at him with a gaping mouth. “What?” Your voice shook and your face felt hot.

He rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You heard me,” he spat as he glared at you and Vinnie, though your gaze didn’t dare to meet Vinnie’s blank ones.

“I-“ you began before Vinnie interrupted you, his voice expressionless and his face equally so when you finally looked at him.

“Fuck you.” Oh god, you quickly stood up and glanced around for help to stop the fight that would inevitably follow. “Noah?” You yelled out and the boy quickly appeared with a lazy smile on his face before it quickly dropped when he saw your panicked expression.

He quickly walked up to you. “Woah, what’s wrong?” You were just about to gesture towards Vinnie and your boyfriend, but quickly stopped when your boyfriend clumsily stood up and threw the glass bottle toward Vinnie. Glass shattered on the concrete before Vinnie’s feet, beer staining his trousers and skin.

A gasp left your lips before you quickly ran forward to intercept your boyfriend who obviously wasn’t done. Vinnie had also gotten to his feet now, his eyes dark and fist clenched, his body tense as he stared your boyfriend down.

“Lil’ bitch,” your boyfriend slurred, your hand grasping his arm to hold him back. You tried to ignore him instead focusing on Vinnie who was now being held back by Noah. You took notice of the circle of which has formed around you, people curious to see what the escalation would be like.

Fingers pinched your arm tightly, almost breaking through skin. You tore your arm away from your boyfriend to see his glare directed to you now. Your arm burned from where he pinched you.

“What the fuck?” You exclaimed angrily as you gave him a light push. He wobbled a few steps back before he spat on your shoes, a disgusted expression on his face. “You’re his lil’ bitch, aren’t you?” He wiped the stray saliva from his chin with a crazed smile. “You’re his whore aren’t you?” You felt your nose burn as tears blurred your vision.

One second you were staring at your boyfriend, the next his body laid upon the ground, Vinnie straddling him, his fists flying. You could vaguely hear voices screaming, before Vinnie was quickly taken away from the bloodied man you once called your boyfriend.

Through your blurred vision you saw Vinnie being taken into the house by Noah and a couple of other guys, their faces pale.

“Hey,” a soft voice spoke. A blonde haired girl stood before you with a soft, shaky smile. “Let’s get you inside.” She didn’t wait for you to answer before she gently took your hand and walked you inside. You were grateful but your mouth felt wired shut. You wanted to know what happened to Vinnie and where he was taken to.

“Where is he?” She guided you to the plush couch and kneeled down before you, her hand still holding yours.

“Who? Vinnie?” She asked, her eyes quickly darting to the backyard where a commotion was still going on. You could only nod, a tear tickling your skin as it slid down your cheek and neck.

“They took him to the front lawn, someone called the cops.” Your heart stopped. “They’re hoping to explain the situation or something.” She gave you a reassuring smile. “He only protected you, stupidly of course,” she chuckled and you let a teary one out too.

“What’s your name?” Your voice cracked. She gave you a cheeky grin before answering you. “Phoebe, and you?” You told her your name and took a deep breath, “how bad is it?”

She sighed and chewed her button lip, “it looked worse than it is.” And it looked horrifying. You turned around to get a glimpse of your now unofficial ex boyfriend, and he was being held up by two guys, his nose bent and blood covering his lower face with splatters everywhere. Vinnie had done some proper damage in that short moment.

“Oh, don’t look,” she tugged at your hand and made you focus on her. She quickly got up and nodded to someone, whom you didn’t know.”

“She okay?” It was Noah, his hair disheveled and he looked flustered, his eyes quickly glancing outside before focusing on you again.

“Welp, she’s definitely shaken up and could definitely use a friend and some reassurance.” She gave you a small smile before walking back outside again. You wanted to thank her but you found yourself tongue tied.

Noah took a seat beside you, his body slumped against the cushions, and dragged a hand over his face before sitting straight. He looked exhausted.

“Are you okay?” You whispered shakily, your lips trembling. He snorted, “I’m fine, just tired from dealing with cops.” Oh god, your mind drew a scenario of Vinnie in the back of a patrol car.

“Is Vinnie arrested?” Your voice trembled, ‘god this shouldn’t be happening’ you thought to yourself.

Noah laughed this time, the sound loud in the quiet and tense living room. “Psst, no. They understood and they’re actually taking your man in instead for being drunk and disorderly.” Your mouth fell open before you quickly turned around in your seat again to find him again, but he was already gone. The guests back to mingling as though nothing had happened.

“Where’s Vinnie?” You asked Noah, mouth still gaping.

“Here,” another voice answered. Vinnie. He stood by the doorway with wrapped hands and a change of clothing. A sheepish smile on his blushing face. You quickly got up and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head resting on his hard chest. His arms quickly engulfed you tightly. “Thank you for standing up for me.” You sniffled .

“Meh, I always hated the guy.” You lifted your head to stare at him and a smile grew on his lips. “Just saying.”

——————

It took two months before you agreed to go out with Vinnie. He had planned the whole night, home baked pizzas with snacks and a handful of movies. You were both snuggled up under a shared blanket, hands intertwined. He rested his chin atop your head. “It feels surreal, you know?” He spoke. You moved to get a look at him. His dark eyes soft as they glanced at you under the glow of the lit candles on the living room table.

“It feels like I’m about to wake up at any moment and resent myself for this only being a dream.” He continued, he looked melancholy, as his inked hands nervously played with yours. “I never wanted to lose you, and I did anyway.” Your heart felt heavy as you listened. You wanted to say something but you could tell he wasn’t done speaking.

He sighed, forcing himself to let it all out. “I think I’m in love with you, I think I’ve been for a very long time. I don’t really know the definition of love but I know that you’re all I think about. You make me feel safe and nervous at the same time and it’s very confusing,” you both chuckled before he continued.

“I can’t see anyone else being in your place and if I had the power to, I would freeze time so I could spend an eternity here with you.” You were crying now and his warm hand lifted to grasp your wet cheek. His eyes were alight and a smile grew on his lips as he laughed.

“Fuck,” you sniffled, a smile covering your lips as your heart pounded in your chest. You felt indescribable happiness and love. The type of love written in books and wished upon falling stars. “I think I’m in love with you too.” You answered and quickly placed your lips on his.

His hands found their way to your waist before guiding your body down. He leaned over you, his lips still on yours whilst his tongue begged for entrance, and you let him. His tongue fought for dominance whilst he fit himself between your thighs. He slowly separated his tongue from yours and softly nipped on your bottom lip. A breathy laugh escaped his lips, his breath warming your swollen lips.

He quickly kissed your face, speaking between his kisses. “I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss.

———————

don’t forget to comment and reblog ♡

[55sturn]

✮ I’M A LOSER BABY SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME HCS

synopsis: in which i give you headcanons about our favourite complicated “ couple. “

pairing: loser!chris sturniolo x mean girl!reader

disclaimers: mentions of drugs [ both mild and hard ], mentions of sex, angst, swearing, the whole nine yards.

✮ mean girl!y/n who keeps a secret collection of chris’ clothes tucked away in a box in her closet, she pulls it out after every fight they have and falls asleep in at least one article of his clothing.

✮ loser!chris who keeps a picture of reader in his wallet, it’s of her getting ready for one of her family’s parties, she had sent it to him on snap and he screenshotted it and printed it out.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has harboured a crush on chris since their first meeting in the high school hallway.

✮ loser!chris who, surprisingly, doesn’t text nearly as much as y/n does, he prefers talking over facetime or phone call because he adores her voice.

✮ mean girl!y/n who needs to fall asleep on the phone with chris if, for whatever reason, she can’t get to his place or wherever he’s crashing for the night, and this still happens even when they’re mad at each other, it’ll be tense and awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but they still fall asleep on the phone together nonetheless.

✮ loser!chris who is smarter than he seems, he’s good at reading people, after years of dealing drugs and running product to sketchy people in even sketchier areas of town, he can figure out when someone is or isn’t who they’re pretending to be, and he can figure out their motives from a mile away. he doesn’t let on that he’s good at reading people and he lets people believe he’s dumb as rocks, because it tends to give him the upper hand when he needs it.

✮ mean girl!y/n who is actually very intelligent in her field of interest and major, which happens to be business & management, and she discreetly takes online courses, but she doesn’t let people know.

✮ loser!chris who is actually a major film and photography geek. he spent a lot of time with nick in the photo lab and joined him on any photography projects nick took after school. and he also enrolled in film courses when he finally decides to go back to get his diploma, and ends up going to community college, which grants him the opportunity to start filming and doing videography for his friends in the music industry. [ future concept ]

✮ mean girl!y/n who helped out at the humane society on weekends early in the mornings during high school. it’s how she adopted her french bulldog named mocha, but she claims to have bought her from a prestigious breeder her family knew [ she doesn’t support breeders or puppy farms, but to maintain her higher status image, she went with a lie that her family and friends would accept ]

✮ loser!chris who has a journal filled with pictures he and y/n took together, alongside little writings about each picture, pages with dreams about her, stories about her, and every single thing he knows about her.

✮ mean girl!y/n who talked horribly about chris to her friends, in front of him, at the first party they hooked up at. it was after they hooked up, and her friends had noticed their state and the fact they had come down sort of at the same time and joked about them hooking up.

✮ loser!chris who has two cats, an orange cat with bright green eyes named matcha and a calico cat with blue eyes named spot. he “ adopted” them both with y/n, [ realistically he was skateboarding home from a deal ( both times ) and they followed him home, ] and y/n named them.

✮ mean girl!y/n who frequently dates guys of the same status as her to appease the gated community she lives in. it breaks chris’ heart every time, but she tries so hard not to give into what her heart is telling her to do.

✮ loser!chris who genuinely can’t wait for the nights he and y/n agree to spend together, he doesn’t do much aside from dealing, working at the skate shop, and partying. he looks forward to spending time with y/n more than anything, in his mind, despite how toxic and unhealthy it may be for him because he knows that she’s only using him, any sort of time and moments spent with her, is better than nothing at all.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually gets excited every time she agrees to spend the night with chris, she fools herself into thinking it’s because she’s getting dick and drugs, while ignoring the true reason why.

✮ loser!chris who helps out at the local homeless shelter, secretly paying his dues to the kind owner that helped him out when he couldn’t keep couch surfing.

✮ mean girl!y/n who regularly donates whatever she can to the homeless shelter, under either a fake name or anonymity.

✮ loser!chris who hates homemade chicken noodle soup unless it’s made by his mom.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has a deep love for mary-lou, and has a tendency to turn to her about things she’s uncomfortable telling her step-mom.

✮ loser!chris who is extremely close with karina, y/n’s closest friend, after he was recommended to her by y/n.

✮ mean girl!y/n who hates the texture of pickles, but orders them on all her burgers because she loves the taste and will pick them off.

✮ loser!chris who will eat the pickles even though he’s not the biggest fan of them, because he knows that she hates wasting food.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually isn’t mean at all once you get to know her beneath the surface, she just keeps up the persona and image she developed in high school because it got her places and she’s actually just a deeply scarred and insecure girl who is scared to lose her status and has never healed from the things she’s dealt with.

✮ loser!chris who see a future with y/n, and decides to tell her one night, they’re bother fully sober, and it just slips past his lips.

✮ mean girl!y/n who panics when she’s hears this and tells chris that she doesn’t want that, that she doesn’t want a future together, and chris kicks her out, telling her they’re done because he can’t keep waiting for her.

✮ loser!chris who spirals after breaking up with y/n officially, and gets himself back into dealing, but this time it doesn’t go as smoothly as it had in his past, to the point where he gets into a physical fight with his supplier, and even lands himself in jail after being caught with a kilo of coke, and he thinks that this is it for him, that he’s stuck there for the foreseeable future, but the judge somehow, some fucking way, for whatever reason, decides to grant chris a pardon, with the condition of bail and community service.

✮ mean girl!y/n who pays chris’ bail, dropping the money without hesitation, and she steps into the cop shop with an irritated sigh, and when chris turns the corner, she’s stomping up to him and shoving him back before pulling him into a rough kiss before saying “if you wanted me back, you could’ve fucking said so instead of landing yourself behind bars, again, you idiot.”

STARS CORNER finally some loser!chris content, also some clarification, this type of “loser” is based off the loser guys i went to high school with and dated myself, it’s not based off the geeky type of loser obvs.

[dreamersworldduh]

HI NEIGHBOR — PART TWO

• JASON TODD x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — you’re new to the neighborhood and find yourself becoming friends with the residential bad boy, Jason Todd. From his perspective, you seems like a outgoing guy yet there’s a mystery to you he couldn’t quite figure out.

WARNING! Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Violence.

WORDS! 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! here we are with part two, I hope you enjoy!

NEXT PART! THREE

PREVIOUS PART! ONE

The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, the air still sharp with the lingering scent of gunpowder and shattered glass. The dim, flickering light from the broken TV cast long shadows across the room as you stormed into your bedroom, moving with determined purpose.

Jason stood frozen near the doorway, still reeling from what he'd just witnessed. His mind raced, replaying the brutal, calculated way you'd taken down the League of Assassins operatives with a skill he'd never expected — not from you. Not from someone he thought he knew.

He followed after you, his boots crunching on broken glass. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, voice rough with frustration.

You didn't even look at him, your expression cold and unreadable as you yanked open your closet. Clothes were shoved aside with practiced efficiency until you reached the back wall where a large, worn duffle bag rested.

Jason's eyes narrowed as you pulled it out and threw it onto the bed, immediately unzipping it. His heart skipped when he saw what you packed — stacks of cash, a worn passport, and several other small pouches he couldn't immediately identify.

"Planning a trip?" Jason growled, stepping forward.

You shot him a glare but didn't stop moving. "Surviving," you corrected coldly, tossing in a compact utility knife, a small first aid kit, and another roll of cash from a hidden compartment in your dresser. "Staying here is a death sentence now."

Jason clenched his jaw, anger flaring despite the chaos swirling in his mind. "You knew this was coming."

You froze for half a second, your shoulders tensing before you zipped up the side pouch of the duffle. "I had a feeling," you admitted quietly. "But I was hoping I'd have more time."

Jason took another step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Time for what? Who the hell are you?"

You slowly turned to face him, your expression still unreadable — cold but... tired. Like you were exhausted from keeping the truth buried.

"Who I was," you corrected softly, your voice tinged with something darker. "That person... doesn't exist anymore."

Jason's sharp eyes searched your face, anger and suspicion warring within him. "You fought like one of them. Like you were trained." He practically spat the word, his fists tightening at his sides. "Were you part of the League?"

Your jaw clenched. "I was never one of them," you bit out, venom in your tone. "But they sure as hell tried to make me."

Jason's breath hitched, his mind flashing back to the brutal efficiency of your fighting style — every move precise, lethal, and honed through relentless training. The League's signature.

"How?" he demanded, voice low.

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair, as if grappling with how much to say. "I was... taken. Years ago." Your voice dropped, filled with quiet resentment. "They wanted another weapon. I didn't give them one."

Jason processed your words, every piece of the puzzle snapping into place far too easily — the way you'd fought like it was second nature, the way you always seemed on edge despite your laid-back facade. It all made sense now.

He stepped even closer, his voice deadly serious. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Your eyes burned with frustration as you met his gaze. "Tell you what, Jason? That I was hunted by assassins from a global death cult?" You shook your head. "I left that life behind. I thought... hoped... they'd forgotten about me."

Jason's jaw clenched, knowing better than anyone that the past never really lets you go.

But then, your eyes flicked toward the twin pistols holstered on his thighs, still faintly gleaming under the dim light. His leather jacket was slightly torn from the fight, exposing familiar tactical gear beneath — armor reinforced with Kevlar, built for survival.

Your gaze sharpened, realization dawning.

"My turn," you said quietly, taking a slow step toward him. "Who the hell are you?"

Jason's expression hardened, his fingers brushing the grip of one of his pistols — not in threat, but out of instinct.

"You're not just some guy I met in the hallway," you pressed, your voice cutting through the heavy silence. "You show up with takeout and combat-grade instincts... You knew exactly what those assassins were the second they came through that window."

Jason's fists clenched. He hated how sharp your mind was, how fast you'd pieced it together — but there was no point in lying now.

"You don't want that answer," he growled.

"Try me," you shot back, taking another step forward until you were just inches apart. "You can't stand here demanding answers when you've been hiding just as much."

Jason's breath came in slow and measured. His eyes burned with intensity as he met your fierce, unyielding gaze — two people trapped in a web of half-truths and buried pasts.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders.

"I'm Red Hood," he said quietly, his voice like steel.

Your breath hitched, recognition flashing across your face — you knew that name. Everyone in Gotham did.

"The vigilante..." you whispered, stunned.

Jason's lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Depends who you ask."

The weight of the truth settled between you like a heavy storm ready to break.

Before either of you could say another word, the sound of shattering glass echoed. You could hear the faint, purposeful creak of boots against metal outside—someone approaching from the fire escape again.

Jason moved to the door, drawing his twin pistols, while you shifted into a defensive stance near the broken window, fingers brushing the hilt of a blade you'd grabbed from your duffle bag. Your breaths were steady, controlled, honed by years of survival. Whoever was coming wasn't going to get the drop on you this time.

The sound of the window frame creaking as something heavy landed just outside made both of you snap into action. Jason aimed his pistols toward the shattered glass while you prepared to lunge.

"Hold your fire, Todd," came a low, commanding voice from the shadows outside.

Jason cursed under his breath but lowered his guns ever so slightly, recognizing the voice immediately. "Damn it..."

Before you could process what was happening, three familiar figures emerged from the broken window and landed soundlessly inside your wrecked living room.

Batman. Nightwing. Red Robin.

Their presence was both menacing and commanding, even in the dim, shattered apartment. Batman's dark cape flowed behind him like a living shadow, his piercing, unreadable eyes locking onto you in an instant. Nightwing landed just behind him with practiced ease, scanning the room with a wary but curious expression, while Red Robin moved with sharp, tactical precision, already assessing the damage and possible exits.

Jason sighed, holstering one of his guns with a sharp click. "Could've knocked," he muttered bitterly.

Nightwing's eyebrows shot up as he took in the mess. "Looks like someone already did." His eyes flicked toward you, lingering for a second longer than necessary, curious and calculating.

Batman stepped forward, voice cold and commanding. "Jason. Report."

Jason gave you a quick glance, silently telling you to hold back—for now. "The League of Assassins showed up," he said shortly. "They weren't here to talk." His voice was sharp, his frustration barely held in check. "They were after him." He tilted his head toward you.

Red Robin narrowed his eyes. "Damian was right, wasn't he?" His voice was clipped, cautious but not accusing.

Jason clenched his jaw. "Technically, yeah." He let out a slow breath. "But it's... complicated."

You stiffened, every muscle ready to spring into action. Their eyes were all on you now—judging, calculating, and deciding whether you were a threat. You could feel Batman's cold, unyielding scrutiny weighing heavily on you, like he could see everything you'd ever done just by looking at you.

"Who is he?" Batman demanded, his deep, gravelly voice leaving no room for evasion.

Jason met his gaze head-on. "He's... one of us." His voice was firm, though uncertain in a way you'd never heard before. "But not the way you think."

Nightwing frowned, crossing his arms. "You're sure about that?"

Jason's jaw tightened. "I am now."

Their attention turned fully toward you—and you moved.

Without a single word, you lunged toward the shattered window, your instincts screaming that staying put would only get you killed—or worse, captured. Your feet hit the ledge with practiced grace as you dove into the dark, empty alley below, barely making a sound as you twisted mid-air and landed in a perfect crouch.

Jason's curse echoed faintly behind you, but you were already moving—ready to vanish into the night.

But as soon as your boots hit the wet pavement of the dark alleyway, you froze.

Figures emerged from the shadows — not just one or two, but an entire unit of League assassins, their gleaming blades reflecting the dim, hazy light from the streetlamp above. Their movements were silent, calculated, and far too familiar.

And then... she appeared.

Talia al Ghul.

Tall, graceful, and utterly lethal, she stepped out from the shadows as though she belonged to the night itself, her dark cloak billowing slightly in the cold Gotham breeze. Her piercing, calculating eyes locked onto you with chilling precision.

"Running, are we?" she said smoothly, her voice low and deadly, with just the faintest hint of amusement. "I would've expected better... from one of my creations."

Your blood ran cold, but you didn't let it show. You forced yourself to stand tall, your breath steady, fists clenched at your sides.

"Talia," you spat, voice hard as steel. "You should've stayed gone."

She smiled—a slow, dangerous thing that never reached her eyes. "You truly thought you could leave that life behind? Escape?" Her tone turned sharp. "No one escapes the League."

Behind her, the assassins silently drew their blades, stepping into position with terrifying precision. Their cold, unblinking eyes locked onto you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you shifted into a ready stance, muscles taut and prepared to fight—to survive.

"Tell your dogs to back off," you warned darkly. "Or I'll put them down too."

Talia tilted her head, studying you like a predator deciding how much effort it would take to crush its prey. "I taught you... everything. Do you really believe you can win?"

Before you could respond, the sharp, familiar click of a gun being cocked echoed from the rooftop above.

"I don't believe," Jason's voice drawled, sharp and dangerous, echoing down the alley like a death sentence. "I know."

From the ledge, Jason stood tall with his twin pistols aimed directly at Talia's head, his eyes blazing with fierce, protective determination.

A second later, Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin silently appeared on the opposite end of the alley, cutting off the League's exit like an unspoken declaration of war.

Talia's cold smirk only deepened as she studied the standoff—but something dangerous and personal burned in her gaze when her eyes flicked back toward you.

"This... will be fun," she whispered, just before her assassins surged forward.

The fight was just beginning.

Soon the alleyway echoed with the clash of blades and the sharp crack of gunfire. Rain began to fall, making the worn pavement slick as shadows danced under the flickering streetlights. The League of Assassins swarmed like a wave of relentless predators, silent and deadly, their blades gleaming like fangs in the dark.

You, Jason, Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin fought side by side in a brutal, chaotic rhythm. Every movement was precise, every strike calculated. Jason's twin pistols barked loudly, forcing assassins into defensive retreats. Batman moved like a dark specter, disarming enemies with brutal efficiency. Red Robin was a blur of staff strikes and gadget-based precision, while Nightwing's electrified escrima sticks cracked like thunder through the air.

But they just kept coming.

For every assassin you put down, two more seemed to take their place, emerging from the thick shadows like something unstoppable.

Breathing heavily, you drove your elbow into an assassin's jaw, sending them crashing into the alley wall. Another charged at you from the side, but you twisted mid-step, driving your knee into their chest and sending them sprawling.

Jason fired a well-placed shot at an advancing swordsman, barely glancing back as he shouted, "We can't hold this position much longer!"

Batman growled, blocking a pair of incoming blades with his armored gauntlets before disarming his attacker with a vicious twist. "We fall back together. Stay—alert!"

But as you staggered back into formation, you felt it.

That familiar pulse thrumming in your chest—the power you'd spent years suppressing, forcing down, pretending it didn't exist. It surged, burning beneath your skin like molten fire, begging to be unleashed.

Another wave of assassins advanced, eyes cold and deadly. Their relentless precision... their sheer numbers... you knew there was no escape without making a choice.

No more running.

You clenched your fists, gritting your teeth as the power surged through your veins—hot and demanding. The ground beneath your feet trembled faintly as energy began coiling around you, rising with intensity.

Jason noticed first. "What the hell—?" he muttered, glancing back at you with wide, confused eyes.

Then it happened.

Your eyes blazed a fierce, radiant yellow, glowing like molten embers in the dark. Your fists shimmered with the same golden light, illuminating the rain-soaked alley in a blazing, pulsing aura of energy.

The assassins hesitated, visibly faltering for the first time.

Batman's sharp gaze snapped toward you, his mind already assessing, calculating—but even he seemed momentarily taken aback.

Without another word, you moved.

The first assassin surged toward you with deadly intent, twin blades flashing. You met him head-on, driving a glowing fist into his chest with tremendous concussive force. The shockwave from the impact sent him flying backward like a ragdoll, crashing through a stack of metal crates with a deafening CRASH.

Another assassin lunged from behind—silent, precise—but you twisted sharply and let them hit you.

Steel met skin.

The assassin's katana came down hard against the back of your head—only to shatter against your glowing aura like brittle glass. You didn't even flinch.

Jason's mouth dropped open. "Holy—"

Before the shattered blade hit the ground, you spun on your heel, catching the stunned assassin by the collar. With inhuman strength, you hurled him over your shoulder, sending him skidding across the rain-slick pavement.

Three more assassins charged—but you were faster.

With fluid, precise agility, you flipped over them in one smooth, powerful motion, landing just behind their formation. Before they could react, you lashed out with rapid, thunderous punches, each strike powered by raw concussive force. One by one, they crumpled like broken marionettes, groaning in pain as they hit the ground.

"What the hell..." Red Robin breathed, eyes wide, staff lowered momentarily.

From the rooftop, another assassin hurled a cluster of throwing stars with deadly precision—but your glowing eyes tracked them easily.

Too slow.

You sidestepped effortlessly, dodging the projectiles with perfect precision before launching forward like a streak of lightning. With one explosive strike, you drove your glowing fist into the assassin's chest, sending them crashing through a rusted fire escape ladder, twisting the metal on impact.

Nightwing muttered under his breath, "I'm definitely not putting this in the report."

The last assassin standing hesitated, visibly shaken—but before they could retreat, Jason raised one of his pistols with cold, lethal intent. "Don't even think about it," he snarled.

The assassin wisely dropped his blade, collapsing to his knees in surrender.

For a long, tense moment, the alley fell into silence, broken only by the faint crackle of electricity still shimmering around your glowing fists. The faint pulse of your energy slowly dimmed, flickering out as your breath slowed.

Jason, Red Robin, and Nightwing stared, still processing what they'd just seen.

Batman's piercing gaze locked onto you—cold, analytical, and deadly serious. Whatever calculations he'd been running in his mind just shifted dramatically.

Then... the faintest rustle echoed from the far end of the alley.

You spun around—but Talia al Ghul was gone.

Vanished.

Only the faint outline of her form remained in the falling rain, swallowed by the shadows as if she'd never been there at all.

Your glowing fists dimmed completely as you exhaled slowly, wiping sweat from your brow—but the looks from the Bat-family remained.

Jason broke the silence first, his voice low and rough.

"...The hell... was that?"

Red Robin stepped forward, still stunned. "That's why they want you." His voice dropped with dawning understanding. "They weren't just after your skills... they were after that."

Nightwing crossed his arms, lips tightening as he processed what he'd seen. "You're not just some ex-League runaway." His eyes gleamed with something deeper—worry. "You're a weapon."

Batman's voice cut through the air like a blade—cold, calculating, dangerous.

"Start talking," he commanded, his gaze locked on yours. "What are you?"

You met their stares head-on, your voice steady despite the weight of what just happened.

"I'm not what they made me."

But even you weren't sure how much longer that would be true.

The Batcave was cold, vast, and dimly lit, illuminated only by the bluish glow of the massive Batcomputer and the low flicker of overhead work lights. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavern's endless expanse, mingling with the distant hum of advanced technology. The sharp, metallic scent of the cave's reinforced platforms and tactical gear filled the air.

You stood in the center of the operations platform, arms crossed, refusing to sit despite Jason's earlier gruff suggestion. Tension crackled like static between you and the Bat-family surrounding you—watching, assessing, waiting.

Batman loomed near the Batcomputer, his imposing figure partially obscured by the shadows of his cape. Nightwing stood to his right, arms crossed, his piercing blue eyes unreadable but focused. Red Robin paced near the console, fingers lightly grazing the hilt of his staff as he processed what little information you'd shared. Jason—Red Hood—stood closest to you, his expression sharp, still radiating frustration but tempered by something else... something protective.

The weight of their stares pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting. They wanted answers—but you weren't ready to give them.

"You need to start talking," Batman said, his deep, commanding voice cutting through the thick silence like a blade. His intense gaze locked onto yours, unreadable but calculating. "Who are you to the League?"

You clenched your jaw, refusing to flinch. "I'm no one to them. Not anymore."

Jason growled lowly, stepping forward. "They sent an army after you—Talia personally showed up. Don't stand there and act like you're nobody."

Before you could respond, a sharp, familiar voice rang out from the shadows near the far entrance.

"He's not 'nobody.'"

Everyone turned as Damian Wayne—Robin—strode toward the group, his green cape flowing behind him, his expression cold and unforgiving. His gloved hands were clenched, and there was something almost... triumphant in his piercing green eyes.

Batman's brow furrowed slightly. "Damian—"

"I know exactly who he is." Damian came to a stop a few feet away from you, his sharp gaze locking onto yours with something between contempt and twisted respect.

"His name... is Kai." His voice was low but cutting. "He was Ra's al Ghul's most guarded secret—a weapon the League tried to perfect but couldn't control."

Jason and Dick exchanged sharp, stunned glances. Red Robin's fingers tightened on his staff.

"What are you talking about?" Jason demanded.

Damian's lip curled faintly. "He was trained in the League's deepest sanctuaries—places even I wasn't allowed to enter. They called him the Chi Warden." His voice dripped with bitter acknowledgment. "The only student who ever mastered the forbidden teachings of Chi Manipulation."

Batman's gaze darkened. "Explain."

Damian's tone remained cold and clinical. "The League trained him to harness life energy itself—Chi." He gestured toward you with a sharp flick of his wrist. "He doesn't just fight—he amplifies his strength, speed, endurance... even his mind. Every punch he throws—every movement—is charged with devastating power."

Red Robin's eyes widened slightly. "That's... impossible." His voice was quiet but shaken.

Damian's expression remained harsh. "Not for him." His gaze narrowed further. "The assassins didn't come to kill him. They came to retrieve him—because he's their greatest asset."

Jason swore under his breath, his eyes burning with new understanding.

You stood rigid, your fists clenched at your sides. The truth was out—again. No more running. No more pretending.

"You didn't tell us this," Nightwing said quietly, disappointment flickering in his tone.

"I don't owe you anything," you shot back, your voice rough with pent-up frustration. "I'm not with them—I left!"

Damian took a threatening step closer. "The League doesn't just let people go. They'll hunt you until they get what they want."

Jason snapped, stepping between you and Damian with sudden, fiery intensity. "You're the reason they're here in the first place!" His voice was sharp with blame. "You couldn't leave this alone—you called them here!"

Damian's eyes flashed with defiance. "I was protecting Gotham."

Jason surged forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You unleashed a war on Gotham—all because you couldn't accept being wrong."

Before the situation could escalate, Batman's voice cut through like a thunderclap.

"Enough."

The room fell into tense silence.

Batman's gaze remained locked on Damian, his voice low and deadly calm. "Jason's right. You escalated this." His tone turned cold. "And now it's our responsibility to fix it."

Damian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Batman turned to face you fully, his expression unreadable but final.

"From this point forward... you're under our protection."

Your eyes widened, and you bristled.

"I don't need your protection," you growled, your fists clenching. "I'm not some helpless target—"

"You are now," Batman interrupted harshly, his cape shifting as he stepped forward. "The League won't stop. They'll come at you again... and next time, they won't hold back."

You took a sharp step toward him, refusing to back down. "Let them try. I've survived worse."

Jason grabbed your arm, his voice rough but sincere. "You don't have to anymore."

You yanked your arm away, breathing heavily, feeling that familiar, burning power stir in your chest.

Nightwing's voice softened as he stepped closer. "You've been fighting this alone for too long." His eyes were steady but understanding. "Let us help."

You looked around, still tense—still not ready to trust—but you saw something in their faces that caught you off guard.

Belief.

Not fear. Not suspicion.

Just... belief.

After a long, heavy moment, you let out a slow, reluctant breath.

"I don't need you," you said quietly—but the fight had drained from your voice.

Jason smirked faintly, something softer in his sharp gaze. "Maybe not... but you've got us anyway."

The cavern fell silent, but this time... the tension felt different.

It felt... lighter.

The Batcave remained eerily quiet after the intense confrontation with the Bat-family. The faint hum of the Batcomputer's advanced systems echoed through the cavernous space, accompanied by the occasional drip of water from the towering stalactites. You stood near the massive central platform, still tense, still processing everything that had just happened — the fight, the truth about the League's pursuit, and the Bat-family's sudden decision to protect you, whether you liked it or not.

Jason hovered nearby, his sharp blue eyes constantly flicking toward you, watching for any sign of unease. Though he'd never admit it out loud, there was a hint of understanding in his gaze, tempered by the same guarded wariness you saw in all of them.

You crossed your arms, shifting uncomfortably as Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin stood in a small formation a few feet away, speaking in low, urgent tones. Even from where you were standing, you could feel Batman's intense presence — unreadable, commanding, calculating. His cape hung like a shadow around him, making him seem larger, more imposing.

Nightwing broke from the conversation first, his sharp, perceptive eyes flicking toward you as he approached, arms relaxed but his posture still alert.

"You're gonna be staying here for now," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the massive stone staircase leading deeper into the Batcave. "It's... safer than anywhere else in Gotham."

Your eyebrows rose slightly, skepticism clear on your face. "You're just... letting me stay here? In your base?"

Jason snorted quietly. "Trust me, this wasn't a group vote." His sharp gaze cut toward Batman, whose attention remained fixed on the Batcomputer.

Nightwing offered a faint, knowing smirk. "Think of it as... protective custody. At least until we figure out what the League's next move is."

Red Robin joined the conversation, adjusting one of his gauntlets as he approached. "You're still a security risk," he admitted bluntly. "But if the League's after you... keeping you out there is a bigger one."

You exhaled slowly, still processing, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate setup. Before you could respond, movement from the far side of the cave caught your attention.

An older, refined man in a crisp suit descended the stairs with a quiet grace, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. His presence was calm but commanding in a way that felt almost regal.

"Master Jason, Master Timothy," he greeted smoothly, his sharp eyes flicking toward you without missing a beat. "I see our guest is still in one piece."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Barely."

The older man turned toward you, offering a polite, knowing smile. "I am Alfred Pennyworth. Consider me... the caretaker of this establishment." His tone was precise but warm, holding the weight of someone used to commanding both respect and loyalty.

"...You're their butler?" you asked, still unsure how he fit into the picture.

Jason smirked. "He's a lot more than that."

Alfred nodded graciously. "I assure you, I've worn many hats in my time." His sharp gaze swept over you briefly, assessing in a way that reminded you far too much of Batman. "Follow me, if you would."

Before you could argue, Jason gestured for you to move. "Come on. We've got a room set up... temporarily," he added pointedly.

With no real option, you followed Alfred and Jason up the winding metal staircase that led out of the vast, intimidating cavern. The faint hum of the Batcomputer's systems faded into the distance, replaced by the subtle creaks of the old stone walls and distant echoes of water dripping far below. You were still struggling to wrap your head around everything—the fight with the League, Talia's pursuit, and now... this.

As you were walking, you noticed Jason glance at you sideways.

"...So," he said casually, his tone almost conversational, "figured out who he is yet?" He nodded toward the central platform, where Batman continued working at the Batcomputer.

You frowned. "Batman?"

Jason's smirk widened just a bit. "Bruce Wayne."

You stopped dead, processing the name like a bolt of lightning. Bruce Wayne. Billionaire. CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Gotham's most famous man.

"That—what?!" you hissed, your voice low but sharp.

Jason shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "Yeah. Not exactly subtle if you know what to look for."

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

The thought echoed in your mind, refusing to settle. You'd always known Gotham was built on shadows and secrets, but this? Gotham's richest, most untouchable billionaire secretly being its most feared vigilante... it felt unreal.

Jason walked ahead with a practiced ease, his broad shoulders relaxed, though his sharp eyes kept flicking back toward you. He was watching—not out of suspicion, but out of something else... maybe concern, though you doubted he'd admit it.

Alfred led the way with an air of calm efficiency, his polished shoes clicking softly against the stone steps as the three of you ascended toward Wayne Manor above. His posture was precise, his expression unreadable—but there was something almost protective about how he carried himself.

You finally reached a reinforced door at the top of the staircase, seamlessly blending into the stone wall. Alfred pressed a concealed panel, and with a soft hiss, the heavy door slid open, revealing the grand interior of Wayne Manor.

Warm light bathed the grand hall ahead, in stark contrast to the cold, mechanical glow of the Batcave. Polished wood floors gleamed under the soft glow of antique chandeliers. Ornate paintings lined the walls, framed in dark, rich mahogany. The air was warmer, almost comforting, with the faint scent of aged leather and something faintly floral lingering in the background.

You stepped through cautiously, still half-expecting something dark or dangerous—but instead, you were greeted by the quiet elegance of one of the grandest homes in Gotham.

Jason smirked faintly as he saw the way your eyes flicked across the lavish surroundings. "Weird, right?" he said casually. "Going from a death-trap cave to... this." He waved vaguely at the massive foyer. "Takes some getting used to."

You stayed quiet, still taking it all in as Alfred paused in the hall, turning back toward you with his usual calm precision.

"Your accommodations have already been prepared," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the grand staircase at the far end of the foyer. "If you would follow me..."

Jason shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Welcome to Wayne Manor." His tone was light, but there was something deeper beneath it... something that felt like acceptance.

You hesitated for a moment before following them up the staircase, still uneasy but no longer fighting it.

The second floor of Wayne Manor was just as grand as the first—long hallways lined with intricate wood paneling, elegant carpets, and large, decorative windows that overlooked the expansive, moonlit estate grounds.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you spotted two familiar figures waiting near the far end of the hall—Nightwing and Red Robin.

Or rather... Dick Grayson and Tim Drake.

Dick was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his signature easygoing grin already in place. Tim stood more rigidly, his sharp, calculating eyes flicking toward you with clear curiosity—but there was no hostility there... only analysis.

"Finally," Dick said with a mock sigh, pushing off the wall and striding toward you. "Took you guys long enough." He extended a hand, his grin widening. "Guess we skipped formal introductions down there. Dick Grayson."

You blinked, still processing as you slowly shook his hand. "Nightwing," you muttered under your breath.

Dick smirked. "Only on weekends."

Tim approached next, his demeanor more reserved but still respectful. He tugged back his hood, revealing sharp, intelligent features beneath dark, slightly tousled hair.

"Tim Drake," he introduced simply, his tone more serious. "Red Robin."

Before you could even begin processing that, Jason snorted from behind you. "Yeah, they're real subtle about the whole 'secret identity' thing."

You shot him a sharp look. "You live here. I figured you'd be more careful."

Jason shrugged with a faint smirk. "At this point? You're in the middle of the biggest secret in Gotham. Figured you'd put two and two together eventually."

Your head was still spinning. Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake... Jason Todd. Gotham's wealthiest family... also its most dangerous protectors.

Tim's gaze lingered on you thoughtfully, as if calculating something. "We've trusted you this far," he said evenly. "Figured you should know who you're working with."

Before you could respond, Alfred smoothly gestured toward a door at the far end of the hall. "Your room is just through here." He unlocked the door with a quiet click and stepped aside.

Jason waved you forward. "Go on. Take a look."

You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside... and paused.

The room was... unexpected.

The space was large but not overwhelming, with tall windows framed by thick, heavy curtains that could be drawn shut for privacy. A sturdy, well-crafted bed sat against the far wall, its dark wood frame polished to perfection. A simple but elegant desk and chair rested near the window, accompanied by a fully stocked bookshelf filled with everything from classic novels to tactical manuals.

The room felt... lived-in somehow, like it wasn't just a place to sleep but somewhere to belong.

You turned back toward them, still processing. "This... is for me?"

Alfred inclined his head politely. "Temporarily, of course. Until the situation with the League is resolved." His voice softened slightly. "Though I assure you... you will be safe here."

Jason's expression flickered with something more serious for a brief moment. "It's better than whatever dump you were staying in before."

You looked at Jason with a raised eyebrow, “We live in the same apartment building.”

Jason couldn't argue with that.

Alfred offered a faint, approving smile. "I trust everything is... satisfactory?"

You nodded slowly, still overwhelmed. "It's... fine."

Dick chuckled softly. "You'll get used to it." He clapped Jason on the shoulder as he passed. "Try to be a decent roommate, huh?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

Before leaving, Alfred fixed you with a pointed, knowing look. "Trust... is earned," he said quietly. "From both sides."

With that, they left, leaving you alone in the quiet warmth of the room.

For the first time in... longer than you could remember... you felt something you thought you'd lost.

Safe.

The quiet stillness of Wayne Manor settled heavily over its grand halls, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden beams shifting with the wind. The moonlight filtered faintly through the large, arching windows, casting long, pale beams across the darkened corridors.

Jason wasn't the type to sleep easily—never had been. Restlessness was practically second nature after everything he'd been through. The night clung to him like an old, familiar coat, wrapping him in its dark embrace.

But tonight felt different.

His eyes snapped open, breath steady but sharp, instinct kicking in before his mind could fully process what woke him. He lay still for a moment, his senses on high alert, listening for anything wrong.

Nothing. No footsteps. No creaking doors. Just the faint rustling of wind against the large windows.

He exhaled slowly and ran a hand down his face, trying to push down the uneasy feeling crawling under his skin. Something about tonight didn't sit right.

His gaze drifted toward the glowing red numbers on the clock across the room: 2:47 AM.

"Damn it," he muttered, throwing off the blankets and sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees. He stared down at the worn scars on his calloused hands, trying to shake the unease that wouldn't let go.

It's fine, he told himself. He's fine.

But he couldn't convince himself.

Jason stood abruptly, pulling on a worn hoodie over his plain T-shirt. His boots barely made a sound against the polished wooden floors as he slipped into the dimly lit hallway, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward every dark corner out of old habit. His hand rested instinctively near the hidden knife holstered at his back—not because he expected trouble, but because... just in case.

He approached the door to your room at the far end of the second floor, pausing just outside. His fingers grazed the cold brass handle, hesitation tightening his chest.

He shouldn't check. You were probably asleep, and barging in like a paranoid guard dog would only make things worse.

But something felt... wrong.

Jason turned the handle quietly, easing the heavy wooden door open just far enough to peer inside—and froze.

The room was empty.

The bed was still neatly made, the blankets untouched. The soft glow from the distant moon spilled across the empty desk and darkened shelves, highlighting how utterly vacant the room was.

His breath hitched. His heartbeat kicked into overdrive.

"Damn it," Jason hissed, fully stepping inside, his sharp gaze scanning every inch of the room for any signs of struggle—or escape. But there was nothing.

He moved quickly, checking the adjoining bathroom and the walk-in closet—both empty.

Jason clenched his fists, his mind already racing with worst-case scenarios. He reached for the commlink in his ear instinctively—but stopped.

No... calling in the others would only make things worse if it turned out to be nothing.

But what if it wasn't?

Jason turned on his heel, already striding back toward the main hall, ready to scour the entire manor inch by inch if he had to—until—

"Looking for something, Master Jason?"

Jason spun toward the familiar, steady voice coming from the dimly lit corridor behind him.

Alfred stood calmly at the base of the grand staircase, perfectly composed despite the late hour. His sharp, discerning eyes flicked toward Jason with quiet understanding, arms neatly clasped behind his back as though this was all expected.

Jason exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Where the hell is he?" His voice was low but tense.

Alfred inclined his head toward the large windows at the end of the hall, where the faint glow of moonlight shimmered through the thin curtains.

"He's outside," Alfred said smoothly, his tone warm but firm. "I thought it best to let him be... considering the circumstances."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Outside?" His voice edged with frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Alfred arched a single, perfectly composed eyebrow. "You were... resting, Master Jason. I thought it best not to disturb you unnecessarily."

Jason opened his mouth to argue—but stopped himself. There was no use. Alfred always had the upper hand in these conversations, no matter how tense the situation.

Jason let out a slow breath, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Where outside?"

Alfred's faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The gardens. Near the old stone bench by the eastern courtyard."

Jason hesitated for a moment longer before nodding sharply and heading toward the nearest exit leading to the gardens. His boots clicked softly against the polished floor as he strode toward the back entrance, pushing open the heavy double doors with a quiet creak.

The cold night air hit Jason like a sharp, refreshing wake-up call. The quiet serenity of the gardens stretched out before him, bathed in pale moonlight. The old stone pathways wound through immaculately maintained flower beds and towering oak trees swaying gently in the cool breeze.

Jason's sharp gaze scanned the courtyard immediately, looking for any signs of movement—and then he saw you.

You sat on the edge of a weathered stone bench near a small reflecting pool, partially hidden beneath the sprawling branches of an old oak tree. The soft glow of moonlight bathed your face, highlighting the distant, contemplative expression in your eyes.

You sat perfectly still, elbows resting on your knees, fingers laced together as though lost in thought... or memory.

Jason exhaled slowly, his pulse finally steadying. You were fine.

He approached carefully, boots crunching softly over the gravel path. You didn't react at first, too deep in your own thoughts—until Jason's familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Could've mentioned you were sneaking out," he said gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

You glanced up, blinking in faint surprise, but your expression softened slightly when you saw him.

"Couldn't sleep," you said quietly, your voice steady but distant. "Didn't want to... stay inside."

Jason slowly sat down on the opposite end of the bench, resting his forearms on his knees as he studied you carefully.

"...Didn't think you'd still be here," he admitted after a moment. "Figured you might've... run."

Your gaze dropped back to the still surface of the water. "I thought about it."

Jason nodded slowly, understanding. "But you didn't."

You sighed, the weight of everything still pressing down on your shoulders. "Where would I even go? They'll find me... no matter where I run."

Jason's sharp eyes softened just a fraction.

"They won't find you here," he said firmly. "We won't let them."

For the first time, you believed him—even if you weren't sure why.

And in the quiet stillness of the Wayne Manor gardens... the night finally felt calm, neither of you spoke. The tension stretched like a thin wire between you—charged and fragile.

Finally, you exhaled, breaking the heavy silence. "Why?"

Jason's brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Why do you care so much?" you asked again, your voice rough, tinged with frustration—but also... something more vulnerable. "You keep putting yourself in danger—for me. Why?"

Jason stiffened slightly, his shoulders tensing beneath his worn leather jacket. He opened his mouth, but you kept going, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

"You barely know me, Jason. You didn't have to help me—any of this. You could've walked away... but you didn't." You shook your head, frowning. "So... why? Why do you care?"

Jason's expression darkened for a moment, like he was fighting something inside himself. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching like he wanted to do something—but he forced himself to stay still.

He took a slow, measured breath before finally speaking, his voice low and rough. "...Because I get it."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the quiet intensity in his voice.

Jason's gaze dropped to the ground, his hands flexing into tight fists. "I know what it's like... to be hunted. To feel like you're never safe." His voice turned sharper, edged with something raw and personal. "Like you're always looking over your shoulder... wondering how long you've got before someone finds you."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected.

Jason lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours—intense, unwavering.

"I know what it's like... to think you're only worth what they made you. Like you'll never be anything but the weapon they tried to turn you into." His voice dropped lower, rough but sincere. "But you're wrong. You're more than that."

You stared at him, throat tight, unable to speak—but he wasn't done.

Jason scooted closer, his voice softer now—real, stripped of its usual sarcasm and bravado.

"You're not alone in this. You never have to be." His expression softened—not in pity, but in something far deeper. "I care, because... you're someone I want to fight for."

His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You're someone I... care about."

The words landed heavily between you, charged with something undeniable. No bravado. No lies. Just truth.

Your breath hitched, and for a long moment, you couldn't speak—couldn't move.

Jason's sharp eyes softened just a fraction, his expression still guarded—but there was hope there, too, hesitant but real.

The quiet between you felt like its own language—something shared in the stillness of the night.

Without thinking, without planning, you took a shift over, closing the small distance between you. Jason's breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction—but he didn't pull away.

Slowly, carefully, you reached up, resting a hand against his chest, feeling the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

And then... you kissed him.

It wasn't hurried or desperate—it was steady, deliberate... grounding. A silent acknowledgment of everything neither of you could put into words.

Jason inhaled sharply, his body stiffening for just a second—but then he melted into it, his hands hovering near your sides as though unsure if he was allowed to hold on—or if he even deserved to.

But he didn't pull away.

For a few long, perfect seconds... nothing else existed.

When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling in the cool air, Jason's eyes stayed locked on yours—stunned, soft, and... open.

You let your fingers linger on his chest for just a moment longer before leaning back, exhaling slowly as reality settled back in.

Jason's voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "...You didn't have to do that."

"I know," you said quietly, your voice steady but soft. "I wanted to."

His lips twitched faintly—almost a smile—but something deeper flickered in his intense gaze... something that meant more than words ever could.

Before either of you could say anything more, you stood up and took step back, turning toward the darkened path leading deeper into the gardens.

Jason's hand almost twitched toward you... but he let you go.

"Goodnight, Jason," you said softly, your voice steady—this time, without fear.

Jason sat there in the quiet stillness, watching you disappear into the shadows of the garden path—still feeling the lingering warmth of your touch and the weight of your words.

And for the first time in a long time... he let himself hope.

The grand dining room of Wayne Manor was bathed in soft morning light spilling through the tall, arched windows. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries drifted faintly through the air, though the table's occupants seemed far too tense to notice.

Bruce stood at the head of the long mahogany dining table, clad in his usual sharp, tailored suit. His commanding presence was as steady and immovable as ever, his intense, calculating gaze fixed on a holographic display projected from a slim tablet resting on the polished surface.

Jason sat a few seats down, leaning back with his arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes flicking between Bruce and the screen with thinly veiled impatience. His leather jacket was still slightly scuffed from the previous night's battle, though he didn't seem to care—or even notice.

Across from him, Tim sat with perfect posture, fingers steepled thoughtfully under his chin, his expression calm but deeply analytical. His mind was clearly already racing through the layers of Bruce's emerging strategy.

Damian stood near the window, his arms folded neatly across his chest, his sharp, calculating green eyes cold but focused. He listened in silence, but there was something guarded in his stance—as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to interject.

And then there was you.

You sat toward the center of the long table, still processing the events of the past few days—the brutal fight with the League, Talia's dark promise, and the revelation of your past as their so-called "Chi Warden." You could still feel the faint hum of power lingering beneath your skin—a constant reminder of what the League wanted you to be... and what you'd refused to become.

Your gaze drifted subtly toward Jason, catching the faint glimmer of something soft in his usually sharp, guarded eyes. His expression was neutral, but there was something there—a quiet, steady reassurance. An anchor.

You exhaled slowly and forced yourself to focus as Bruce cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to the projection.

"We can't eliminate the League as a threat," Bruce began, his deep, commanding voice echoing through the quiet room. "But we can sever their hold on you."

His eyes flicked toward you briefly—not cold, not calculating—just certain.

"They'll keep coming," he continued, adjusting the holographic interface. "But if we dismantle their current leadership structure... disrupt their resources... and cut off their intelligence networks—"

"Talia," Jason interrupted bluntly, his voice rough with frustration. "You mean we need to take her down."

Bruce's expression remained unreadable, though a faint flicker of acknowledgment passed through his sharp eyes. "Talia is the immediate threat... but removing her won't be enough." His voice dropped lower. "The League doesn't stop because one leader falls. They adapt."

Jason scowled, fists tightening against the polished table. "So what—you're saying this could take months? Years?"

Bruce's piercing gaze remained steady. "Yes."

His answer hit the room like a cold, sharp blade. The silence that followed was thick with tension.

Jason shook his head sharply, clearly fighting the urge to explode. "We don't have that kind of time, Bruce."

"We do," Bruce countered firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But only if we're smart. If we make one wrong move... he pays the price." His gaze flicked toward you, and for a brief moment, you saw something deeper in his expression—responsibility, determination. "We will end this... but we have to do it right."

Jason bit back whatever retort was burning on his tongue, his jaw tightening—but he stayed quiet, for now.

Damian, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice cold and precise.

"...Attacking them directly won't work." His tone was sharp, clipped, almost begrudging. "They'll expect it. They'll want you to come after them."

All eyes turned toward him as he stepped closer to the table, his sharp green gaze locked firmly on the projection.

"They know how you operate," he continued, his voice low but steady. "My mother... she'll anticipate every tactic you try." His expression darkened. "She trained me... and she created him." He nodded toward you without even glancing in your direction.

Your jaw clenched slightly at his words, but you held his gaze, refusing to flinch.

Damian's voice lowered even further, quiet but deadly serious. "The only way to beat her... is to be unpredictable. Strike where she doesn't expect it."

Bruce's expression didn't change, though something faint shifted behind his eyes—consideration.

Jason let out a harsh breath, still visibly tense but... thoughtful now.

Tim nodded slowly, processing. "He's... right. If we follow the League's rules, we'll lose." His sharp gaze flicked toward Bruce. "We need to think... differently."

Bruce's mouth tightened slightly, though he didn't argue.

As the room fell back into tense, thoughtful silence, your gaze drifted back toward Jason again. His sharp features were still etched with frustration, his fists clenched against the table—but there was something... softer beneath the anger.

He felt you watching him and slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours—steady, unwavering.

For a long moment, the room, the tension, the plan—it all faded into the background.

His expression softened just slightly—only for you. It wasn't much... but it was enough.

You allowed yourself a small, faint breath—relief, trust.

And then Bruce's commanding voice cut through the air once again, grounding you both back into the mission.

Bruce turned toward you fully, his voice calm but firm. "Until we can neutralize their reach... you stay here. Under our protection."

You bristled immediately, sitting up straighter. "I don't need protection. I've survived this long without you."

Jason opened his mouth—ready to argue—but Bruce raised a hand, silencing him with a single sharp gesture.

"This isn't up for debate," Bruce said coldly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. "You're not alone anymore. They will come for you... and this time, they won't stop."

Your fists clenched, power flickering faintly beneath your skin—a familiar, dangerous heat.

"I can fight," you growled, your voice rough but certain. "I'm not helpless."

Jason's voice cut through, rough but steady. "We know."

You turned toward him, caught off guard by the certainty in his tone.

Jason leaned forward, his sharp blue eyes burning with quiet determination. "But you don't have to fight this alone. Not anymore."

His words hit harder than you expected, cutting through your defenses like a blade. For the first time in years, you felt something you thought you'd lost—

Hope.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any music, just this concept idea.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

??? Pov

Running. It's all I have on my mind right now. Get away. Get far away from that thing. I can still hear the few people left standing fighting. Shots being fired, screams of pain and a brawl happening. Damn it. This was supposed to be a secure place. The boss said so himself.

I hear as the fighting ends in the distance behind me, but I keep running anyway. Not chancing it. Not with this person. I need to report to Simon and le-

*BANG*

"AAAGH!!!"

An immense and sudden pain shoots through my leg, causing me to fall over onto the ground.

"FUCK! fuck! shit! fuck!" I yell out swears to the skies as I grab my leg onto my leg. I don't have time cope with the fact that I just got shot in the fucking leg, because I know they're coming. I see their silhouette through the smog. One arm raised in my direction and the barrel of a handgun I can't make out facing towards me, and a shovel being held in the other dripping with what is most likely blood. I push through the pain and force myself up to limp myself to an alleyway as they shoot in my direction and use the wall as a support. They're messing with me.

'Why me!? We aren't even in their territory! We made sure of it!,' I continue on and take many turns to try to loose them and holding onto my leg wound to lessen the blood dripping, 'I just need to get to the light. They never come out of this hole.'

I start becoming more aware of the pain as I continue moving, but ignore it to keep my pace steady. Some hope rises as I look back to see nothing, but just as I turn back around I am met with a boot to my chest. I feel the wind get knocked out of me as I hit the ground, my vision dazed from the back of my head being hit as well.

I look up already knowing who it is standing in front of me, but I never thought I'd be one of their victims. Boots, ragged pants, shovel hanging from their hip on one side with a holster on the other side, some dirty jacket with some kind of body armor underneath and an enforcer gas mask with a one of the old miner helmets. Always covering their face. Always a bad omen for any gang that's hunkering down here.

"Please! I do- AAGH!" I yell in pain as they stomp on my wound. I then feel myself be yanked up by my collar before getting slammed into the wall.

"Talk."

"Listen I don't know anything you want! I was only put in charge of that warehouse!"

"Bullshit, that's what the last guy said before he confessed about you. He said you report to your boss and I want to know where he is."

'Of course she does. Another gang leader being tracked down by this crazy bit-.' my thoughts are interrupted by being pistol whipped across my nose.

"Fuck! Please, I really don't know! I only report to a guy named Simon, but he's not the boss! You saw the place I was in; it was hardly secure at all!", I plead to them, hoping for some mercy. They stare at me for a second before letting out a breath of frustration.

I am yanked forward and thrown onto the ground. I flip over and find myself looking up at them as they stand over me; my eyes staring down the barrel.

"NO! PLEASE, I TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW!"

"You want to beg? After all the lives you've taken and ruined ever since you moved into this area? Be happy I don't make it slower."

"WA-"

Then there was nothings.

Reader Pov

'Another fucking dead end.' I think to myself in frustration as I holster my revolver.

I take a minute to finally catch a breather before checking for anything useful on this guy and the others at the warehouse. Once I'm done I decide to go track down this Simon guy next. It's been nothing but this constant cycle for the past eight years.

"At least everything is going good up above. From what I hear at least." I say to myself, trying to look on the bright side of things. Ironic considering how I'm in what is now the shittiest part of the Undercity. It's been awhile since I've left this area, and since I've seen them.

Last time I left, it was to go witness that historic speech on the bridge. They did it. Vander and Silco finally accomplished their dream, and now Zaun has become a better place. So much light and the whole mood of the town is different too. Much more happy. Just like what I dreamt about, but I don't go over there. I can't.

There's enforcers that will most likely think I'm up to something, it's too bright to hide, not crowded enough to blend in anywhere and honestly I just don't really fit in with this new Zaun anymore. Not their fault, it's me that's the problem. Everyone dresses so nice, clean and casual along with how nice the community has become. Then there's me. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster or came back from an apocalypse..... honestly the latter isn't too inaccurate considering what almost happened originally. Probably also the reason why people usually leave me alone and gives me looks sometimes. I look weird compared to everyone else.

Though even with everything I still do my part. Just because most of Zaun has become better doesn't mean there isn't any who didn't like the idea of Piltover and Zaun making peace. Mostly gangs. Since enforcers were able to do their jobs easier the gangs have been pushed down here with me. I've been taking out as many as I could, and nipping the bud of one's that start growing. Especially the one's I knew were aiming for Vander and SIlco. No mercy. Like that one group who tried to recruit me to, I quote "Rebel and takeover Piltover for the true Zuauites." what a bunch of weirdos. Though this most recent one I've been working on is giving me trouble.

They were the only smart one's to stay under the radar when I first started the purge of gangs down here and only recently have been making bigger moves. They aren't too big yet, but if I don't dismantle them they could cause trouble. Turns out that would be harder than I expected. Every time I get pointed to one person, that person points me to someone else and the cycle continues. I'm no detective either, so I'm getting nowhere with the way things are going.

'It's fine. Something will come up eventually,' I try to reassure myself on my way home. It helps a little. Still tired. Kinda hungry too, 'I need to find a way to money.'

Making money the old way wasn't as easy anymore. Not many people that need "jobs" done, and not a lot of people who need to hire a merc for anything anymore. Most of the mercenaries either used their money to leave or joined up with the enforcers for some good and reliable pay with benefits. Can't blame them. Either my line of business is almost dead, or I'm one of the last one's still keeping it alive. Zaun doesn't need mercs like me anymore. That's good.

*stomach grumbles*

*sigh* "I really gotta make more money. Maybe I can pick up some small jobs here and there. Deliver mail to people or something." I reach into my jacket and pull out my journal. I don't write anything in it, but I do draw.

I turn to my most recent sketch and touch up on some details, another one of Jinx. I can't help, but remember. Sometimes I dream of all that happened. I try to put it behind me, but it's hard. They're scarred into my mind, but they remind me why I do this.

"Always stubborn about your hair. Even when I warned you how it can cause trouble in a fight, you insisted." I say to myself as I draw her braided hair. Took forever to braid them, but she loved. Honestly she made them look good.

I smile. Taking a moment to forget about the world and get lost in something else.

'Hopefully this, Simon, has better info.'

3rd Person

Meanwhile above ground across the bridge. A certain investigation in being looked into. With an ongoing interrogation happening.

"Do you really think we're that stupid?" Vi asks the woman sitting across the room from her and her partner. Both in crime and..... other things.

"Yeah."

Vi shoots forward and ready to lunge, but is quickly stopped by Caitlyn who leans into her ear.

"Calm down, Vi. She wants you to get upset." she says while holding onto one of Vi's shoulders to comfort her. Though she does understand her frustration.

Ever since they've been looking into a recently bold gang, they've hardly gotten anywhere. She takes a moment to make sure Vi has calmed down before turning back to the woman in questioning.

"I understand that you have no reason to help us, bu-."

"No shit. I get thrown behind bars and then pulled out for questioning about a gang, I'm not even a part of."

"But. We really need something here. If you cooperate we could negotiate with reducing your sentencing. Your records show you have been improving and haven't caused trouble, but we can only do that if you work with us." Caitlyn explains, trying to negotiate some kind of deal for some information.

The woman slightly relaxes before shaking her head with a sigh.

"Listen girl, I told you before. I really don't know anything about this gang. All I know is what I told you. They used to be small and kept to themselves and they've grown."

Caitlyn scowls, not at the woman, but down at the table in front of her. Another dead end.

"But.... you could try asking the hound." the woman suggests, which catches Caitlyn's attention, but Vi scoffs.

"We already asked my dad. He's not really involved with that stuff anymore, and his contacts have been out of that kind of business for awhile."

"Not Vander. The new one down in the deep end of the Undercity." this catches Vi's interest now.

"A new hound? Let me guess, another wannabe big shot?"

"No. This one's the real deal. Has been making a name for themselves for a few years now. Ever since most of the gangs got pushed back down deep into the Undercity; ever wondered what happened to all those old gangs eight years ago? Bloodhound took them out one by one." the woman explains, her tone lined with admiration and respect. Caitlyn raises a brow at the name.

"Bloodhound?"

"That's what people call them. No one I've met knows their name or has seen their face."

With things moving in a good direction, Vi sits down next to Caitlyn at the table.

"I assumed all the gangs just died out after peace was made. So what? They some gang leader or something?"

"No, but they do have a small territory. All to themselves. They got a lot of respect down there. You remember that weird group two years ago? Dressed all rugged and called themselves "True Zaunites"? They idolized Bloodhound; tried to dress like them too. Then one day they went into their territory and tried make them their leader, but ended up coming back beaten black and blue. The guy who was leading the group got a bullet through his skull."

Caitlyn looks skeptical and glances at Vi, who also looks to have some doubt about this "Bloodhound". The inmate notices and shrugs her shoulders.

"I know, sounds weird but it's true. The point is, they hunt down gangs. You want someone with info, then try them."

"How do we contact them?"

"I don't know. Last people who tried was that weird group. Now a lot of 'em are too scared to go back down there."

This brings some, not a lot, but some hope to Vi and Caitlyn to this investigation. Better than nothing. Caitlyn stands up before holding out a hand towards the inmate.

"Thank you for your time and the information. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your cooperation, maybe even get you on probation."

"No problem. Not like I had a choice in coming here. You better not be bullshitting me about that deal." the inmate says as she takes Caitlyn's hand.

Caitlyn nods before turning around to leave, Vi already holding the door open for her. Caitlyn wordlessly signals the two enforcers standing outside to escort the inmate back to her cell before walking with Vi.

"So this "Bloodhound", you think they're legit?"

"I don't know. But we don't have any other leads on this case. My mother trusted us with this case Vi, we can't just give up." Caitlyn says with hints of frustration in her voice.

"Hey, I'm not saying we give up, Cupcake. I was just wanting to hear your thoughts."

"I-I know. I'm sorry. It's just, I don't wan-."

"AH. You don't need to apologize Cupcake. I get it. Don't wanna disappoint parents, trust me, I understand," Vi says reassuringly which makes Cait stop, "What?"

"I love you." she says with a smile before giving Vi a peck on the cheek, making said Pink haired girl blush like a tomato.

"I-I love you too, Cupcake. .....Ahem a-anyway, I don't know if going to find this guy will work. I was thinking maybe we could go see my dad instead. He might know someone who can get in touch with this guy. Plus, I think he'd like to know that there's another "Hound" in the Undercity." Vi says as she wraps an arm around Caitlyn's shoulders to hold her close.

"That sounds nice."

Powder Pov

"So you want me to see if I can get someone to talk to this guy that you two need to talk to."

"I know. It sounds sketchy, bu-." Vi was saying until Benzo cuts in.

"Are ye kidding!? Vander! We gotta see this kid. Running around using your title; they must be a fan! How have I not heard of this guy before!?" Benzo says, poking fun at dad since apparently he has some copycat or something.

"I second that!" Mylo says, making Claggor shake his head with a chuckle.

Dad rolls his eyes, but still has a smile on his face.

"Technically not the same. They're called "Bloodhound"." Cait says, but slight smirk still on her face with Vi wearing one to match.

'Might as well join in on the fun.'

"I don't know if that's a good idea. They might want his autograph." I say with my own cheeky smirk. Leaning into Ekko, as he writes in his book of projects, sitting at the bar with everyone.

"Alright, alright. I get it. I might have some people who still owe me a favor or two," Dad says, as he wipes down a glass behind the bar, "One condition. They gotta meet you two here."

"YES!" Benzo yells in elation, but Vi doesn't look that happy.

"Here!? Dad seriously this person could cause trouble and this place isn't like that anymore." Vi says, but Dad doesn't look like he's budging.

"I'm being serious too. I've heard stuff hear and there about them and I don't want you two going down there alone. I know you two can handle yourselves, but if anything I've heard is somewhat true then this isn't like any other thug or gang leader." Dad says, which makes Vi back down.

'Damn. Now I'm interested.'

"Are you sure they would even come here?" Caitlyn asks a pretty reasonable question.

"Pretty sure. From what I hear they've been getting into shootouts with the gang recently. Probably hunting them down too."

"That isn't a guarantee though. What if they don't show up?"

"If they don't then show up, then they don't show up. They wouldn't have been help even if you went down looking for them, you'd probably just gonna end up in a fight."

'Fair point, honestly.'

Cait looks to Vi, who sighs as a sign of surrendering.

"Fine. How soon can you get someone to talk to them?"

"Today."

Cait looks surprised which makes Dad shrug.

"I got good contacts."

"Good. I guess tomorrow in the afternoon? Does that sound fine?" Vi asks, looking at Cait for confirmation which she gets via a nod.

As the conversation shifts to something else, I look at Ekko as he continues to scribble in his notebook.

"What do you think?" I ask him which makes him stop writing for a second.

"About "Bloodhound"," he asks and I give a simple nod, "Sounds a little fishy. Sounds like one of those people still stuck in the old times of crime everywhere."

"It doesn't sound like they are. They did supposedly take out that one weird group of "True Zaunites"; honestly those people were so stupid." I say with a small laugh, Ekko chuckling a little at the mention of that bizarre group of people.

'The speeches those guys made in the streets were insane.'

"Still, doesn't sound like good company. Why would they want to stay in the deep part of the Undercity? Zaun has become so much better over the years."

"Maybe..... they're afraid to move forward. Don't wanna lose what they have now." I say, honestly projecting more about myself than what I actually think.

'They could just be a psycho.'

I feel Ekko's arm come up to my waist before pulling me in closer as he sets down his pencil.

"Powder. I know it's not easy, but I really do think you could do a lot of amazing things. I know you're afraid of things changing, but..... sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind."

"I-I just.... I don't know. I just need some time to think about it." I say, avoiding the topic of what I want to do in life, looking away just staring at the details of the bar counter.

"Okay..... just know I'm here for you Powder. Nothing will change that." Ekko says, supporting and sweet as always, which makes me smile.

"Thanks." I say before giving a small kiss on the cheek.

"No thanks needed."

We sit at the bar in a comfortable silence as my mind wanders.

'Tomorrow should be an interesting day.'

The Next Day.

Deep in the Undercity the infamous Bloodhound stands in the middle of the street, farther than usual from their territory. What is usually a busy street is now completely empty with only Y/n standing there by herself, and facing towards the brighter side of Zaun.

People peak out from their homes through blinds. People who looked like they were about to step outside immediately turn around to lock themselves inside. Others who were making there way down the street immediately turns right around to take a detour around.

All of them had the same questions on their minds.

Why are they here? What are they up to? Is a fight about to happen? Is someone about to die? Are the meeting up with someone here?

.....Also why are they just standing in the middle of the street?

Reader Pov

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit! This is, SO! FUCKING! BAD!', I internally panic as I stand in the middle of the street.

Yesterday right after getting some intel from that Simon guy I got a message from some guy. Literally right after. I just tackled that fucker out of the second floor of his shitty bar when he tried stabbing me after getting information out of him. Then I turned and there they were. Staring in shock. Anyway that doesn't matter.

What really matters is the fact that Vander wanted me to come to The Last Drop. I couldn't even ask why because before I could they ran away.

'Why!? What did I do!? Am I in trouble!? I didn't even do anything!'

I'm not supposed to meet them, but how am I supposed to ignore a call from Vander. From Dad. So I forced myself out of bed and I only made it this far before getting too scared. I feel rooted to the ground. I'm scared. I'm scared to see them after so long, even if it's just to talk or something.

"What if I mess this all up?," I ask myself. Trying to decide whether or not it's worth risking all of the good things that have happened to Zaun over the years, "What if I cause a butterfly effect and ruin everything?"

But then there's that other part of me. Desperate and longing to see how my family has been after so long of isolating myself down here alone.

I stand still in contemplation for another minute before finally taking a step forward.

"One time couldn't hurt. Just this once."

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Focus On Me

Randall Kirkland x Fem!Reader 

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Y/N is the newest arrival to the township. Amongst all the townsfolk, she takes a liking to the most unlikable guy in town when things go awry at the colony house. How will she survive the night? 

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon (kinda), breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, drug use, mentions of DV, mentions of violence (murder), swearing, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare (he deserves that and more!) 

A/N: Randall Kirkland needs love, y'all!! You know, under that cold abrasive exterior, he's a total softie with a good heart! From is such a great show, I love Randall and will protect him at all costs!!! Story is cannon, no spoilers for new season, but it's definitely the reason I wrote it… especially after ep. 6. Randall is baby girl!! Please enjoyyy! I love and appreciate you all! Feel free to reach out anytime! I welcome all interaction!  

Word Count: 5.4k

FOCUS ON ME

Stepping back into colony house was heavy after last night. Donna and Boyd were outside at first light to cover and remove the body of yet another victim to these creatures. You often reminisced of your days before this nightmare you were trapped in. Wishing, hoping to wake up. You arrived in the township by yourself, close to sunset. The folks at colony house were welcoming albeit, strange. You understood now. Often disassociating from the truth and drowning yourself in a journal or sneaking off to vape THC, often walking in the woods, trying to make sense of things, to find… something. Like everyone's first night, you struggled to take in what this place was, what it did to people, not wanting or willing to trust anyone. There was no answers or information as to why this was all happening, no one communicated, and you felt alone. Everyone else seemingly accepting their fates. Except one person. A guy by the name of Randall who people whispered about in the colony house. After hearing some not so stellar rumors about fighting and guns, you initially opted to stay away. Not just from him but closing yourself off to others as well. Sure, some of them seemed nice, but you knew no one or the circumstances that led you to this place. It just didn’t make sense. It was hard to trust anyone, truly. 

After your third night here, you awoke from maybe two hours of sleep to find people rummaging through your things. Personal items mixed with sentimental items that you once thought held value. You were in the middle of a move, taking only your most precious items with on the initial voyage from Key West to Seattle escaping from a violent DV situation literally upheaving your entire life. A new life, new beginnings and new opportunities you had once looked forward to. That was before the tree appeared in the road and the crows circled above.  

The car alarm was jarring waking you from an unrestful sleep, you bolted out the door to see people with handfuls of your clothes, bagging up your journals and other personal effects. It felt as if they were taking what was left from your old life, what made you, you. Without hesitation you started ripping your items from the hands of the thieves. One of the women started yelling while trying to yank back your things, you didn’t hear her and acted out, launching a solid fist into her jaw causing her to fall back as others went to restrain you trying to talk about the rules, and other things you were too upset to hear.  

This place was already loathsome enough, you thought. “You can't take my things!” You yelled as people held you back, each holding one arm. You bucked and screamed until they let go and you fell to the ground. A crowd had begun to form on the porch, watching you. You could feel the heat of anger and embarrassment rise in your cheeks. You pant in defeat, looking at the ground sobbing as people loaded your things into the home. Boots appeared in front of you and a hand reached down. A deep voice spoke out “Here, stand up” You recognized the face immediately as Randall, who had wandered over after hearing the commotion. Him and some folks from town were trying to build some kind of radio tower near the garden.  

You took his hand and stood, dusting off the front of your pants where wet dirt had stained your knees. “Don’t let them see you like this” he whispered. “Give her back her shit!” He yelled to the crowd. Donna stepped forward demanding everyone calm down, she then firmly reminded Randall of the rules if “she” wanted to stay here. “As a community, we have to share everything equally” she had said to him while looking at you. “My journals? My clothes? Are you serious? Its all I have!” You said wanting to swing again but refraining, what good would it do. Your stuck with everyone here anyway. “That or you can do as Randall here did and leave if you don't like the rules” she said directly to you in a condescending manor.  

You storm off in a huff, not wanting to display any more emotion than you already have. You walked away fists clenched and head down when you heard footsteps beside you. “Thank you.” You said. Looking up and meeting his eyes. It was Randall. His smoldering gaze made your breath catch in your throat. He stood at least a foot or more taller than you, athletic build, clean shaved buzz cut, hazel-green eyes, and a dimpled chin. Funny you thought, all the talk about him, how terrible he is, how difficult he can be, and yet he was the only person to stick up for you.  

“Its bullshit, you know it, I know it. They tried that with me too when I got here.” He said as you two continued walking away. “What did you do? Did you get your things back?” You asked. “Yeah eventually, and they kicked me out because of it. Didn’t want to follow their rules” he said with a half grin. “I stay in the bus away from everyone else.” He lamented. Explaining how Donna had showed him how to use the talisman and wished him luck as he took his things. "Wow. What a peach," you said. “I'm Randall, by the way” he said while sticking a hand out. You reached to shake it “Y/N” you replied.  

It was nice talking to someone, you had felt alone here for the past few days, even more so when they began taking your things, it felt like your identity being stripped away. He seemed to understand, and vice versa, you understood him and his reasoning. He had already come to terms with some new truths about this place having been here longer, but you were still taking it all in, or rather, bottling it up and pushing it away. Whatever worked really. “So, where are you going?” He asked while walking beside you. “I guess, just for a walk to clear my head. Wanna come?” You asked, flashing a smile at him. “Sure. Anything to get away” you both chuckled as you led the way to the tree line. 

You learned a lot from him that day you first met him. You exchanged stories of your lives before, where you were going, what you were doing prior. He spoke candidly with you. It was truly refreshing. Sure, he was abrasive and blunt. You could see that on the surface, but somewhere below, you could see he was kind, that he cared, and that he, like the rest of us, was scared. You found it easy to talk to him and it was nice having conversations that didn’t completely revolve around death or scary night serial killer creatures. It was a nice escape from reality, one you both suffered from and needed badly. Spending much of your walk laughing and cracking jokes. His humor was dark much like your own, something you appreciated. You quickly found yourself wanting to talk to him all the time. He was relatable and understanding. He exuded strength and confidence and a no bullshit demeanor. Everyone else seemed so fake, or so lost. 

Although your conversations mostly remained light, he did speak about the people here too, about not trusting anyone, and how no one has really done anything or tried to figure this all out. He explained that living in the bus was hard, the creatures came every night like a routine, he studied them closely. Trying to find weaknesses, vulnerabilities, any information really. You two had stopped for a while. You remembered you had your pen in your pocket and asked him if he was ok with it. "Do you mind if I uh" you said as you wiggled the pen in your fingers. “Nah” he said with a grin. He stood taking stock of the environment you found yourselves in as smoke billowed from your lips into the cold morning air. You nonchalantly hold the pen out to him while also examining the environment. He looked down and grabbed the pen before clicking the button and drawing from the mouthpiece. Eliciting a couple small coughs from him. “Thanks, needed to take the edge off” he said while trying to catch his breath as you two began the trek back to town. You hadn't wandered off too far, never did in fear of getting lost before dark.  

He walked back to colony house with you. You didn’t want to go back, wasn’t ready to after this morning but nightfall approached. Randall stopped at the steps as you ascended. “Thank you, for today. I was really struggling, so, I appreciate you talking with me. It was nice.” You said with a coy smile. He nodded “Tomorrow we’ll get your stuff back okay.” He said. “Thank you, please be safe.” You lamented, truly hoping he made it through the night. You at least found solace in knowing you made a friend here. Knowing that made you feel less alone, but when you were on the couch at night as the creatures roamed the streets as Randall watched. You felt more alone than ever. A resident walked by wearing your shoes. You rolled your eyes and turned over, waiting for the night to be over. Tomorrow you would get your things back. You decided you weren't coming back to colony house. Maybe you could stay with someone in town, but you just couldn’t stay sane in a house full of people, especially when they were taking your things. You drifted off thinking of Randall, and what it must be like to stay on the bus at night.  

You were awoken by screaming. Someone had gotten killed last night and their body was left in the road in town. You heard residents chatter as Donna left to help dispose of the body. Before your mind could fully wake your body pulled itself up and ran for the door. You walked over to town, not wanting to see the body, but wanting to make sure it wasn’t Randall. A crowd formed around the body as Boyd tried to control the commotion with his hands waving telling people to move back. The bus was down the street a bit further away when you saw the door open and Randall step out to see what happened, who had gotten killed. Boyd gave his speech about safety at night and not trusting the creatures. You found yourself walking over to the bus where Randall stood arms crossed leaning against the open door. He straightened as you approached. “Let's go get your things” he said. “No one needs your journals and shit but you!” He said while starting to walk.  

The crowds were all down near the diner speculating about last night's murder. Only one or two people were at the house. You began collecting your personal effects from the rooms and basement where much of it was stored, mixed with other linens in a chest. “What if they don’t let me stay anymore” you said, voice full of concern. Randall set a bag down thinking for a moment. “Then you can stay in the bus with me.” The words sent shivers down your spine. The bus seemed so unsafe; he spoke about how vulnerable it made him feel. No shades for the windows, no pretending like everything is ok at night like the others have the luxury of doing. But it also excited you in a way. Randall was the only person here you’ve connected with, and on a deep level. You felt compelled to stay with him for reasons that can only be blamed on your hormones and lack of social life here. Maybe you would both be better off if neither of you were alone. You could feel heat rise in your cheeks as you continued to pack your things and head for the bus. 

After dropping off your things to the bus Randall was kind enough to help you carry, you both opted for another walk in the woods. It was a calmer environment; it was almost like being taken away from the commotion and despair that was the township and the townsfolk. Randall was a breath of fresh air. He saw through the bullshit and told it like it is. You appreciated his directness, especially when it came to you. “They think what they're doing is right, but they have no idea, no one does" you could sense the frustration in his voice. An emotion you shared. You agreed. “I get people are scared, we all are, but why can't anyone come together and think of something more than a temporary fix. These talismans are Band-Aids over a bigger issue were almost ignoring or just not trying hard enough to figure out. How many people are here, have been here, with nothing to show for it? With no answers as to why or how?” Randall shook his head. “See, you get it” he said as he reached to grab the pen from your hand.  

You two had found a log to sit and chat. Remarking at the landscape, trying to find something, anything really. Every answer he found only led to more questions, but at least he was trying rather than ignoring it like nothing ever happened. Like we all just chose to live here, to be here. Neither him nor you accepted that sentiment. He wanted out just like you did. But in the meantime, at least you had each other in a way.  

He never said anything but it seemed like he enjoyed your company. Willingly going on walks with you and talking for hours about anything. You were both a nice distraction for each other from the daily depression of existence within the confines of this horrible place. You found solace in him. A warm presence like protection and safety. That night you two had stayed awake for the most part talking through the screeches and screaming heard in the distance. Helping one another to ignore the words of the creatures when they would tap on the bus windows asking to come inside. It was scary but you two got through it.  

He had been used to this for some time. As used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But he was able to help you through your first night on the bus. “Focus on me” he said when they wandered to the window at the seat you occupied. He sat next to you and reached for your hand squeezing tightly. “Just focus on me”. The words he spoke echoed in your mind that evening until it darkened with slumber.  

You must have drifted off at some point because you awoke at first daylight as the sun began streaming into the windows. Randall was still sitting next to you. Had he held your hand all night? You must have fallen asleep on him. He could have shifted or asked you to move so he could sleep as well. But he didn’t. He sat there with you all night as your head rest upon his shoulder. When you moved, he jumped suddenly, eyes shot open and looking around. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” You said grabbing his leg and shaking it gently. He immediately relaxed.  

“Bad dream?” You asked. “No. No I uh, I just never really fall asleep in here. Sorry.” He spoke in a soft voice. “I haven't been able to sleep much at all my self since I've been here. But I was able to last night. I have you to thank for that” you looked on as he processed what you said. “Don’t worry about it. I should uh, thank you too. Having you here I guess, made it easier for me. Not having to be alone when those things show up.” He said clearing his throat and shifting slightly in his seat. “I appreciate you letting me sleep here. And I'm sorry about falling asleep on you” you said sheepishly.  

He grabbed your hand once more “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” A light smile lingered on his lips before he left. He had gone up to colony house again. Him and a few others that he was able to gather, had left to scavenge materials for the radio tower they were building. He would be gone for a while, so you spent your day mostly in the woods searching for answers, stopping by the diner for a quick meal then returning to the bus before nightfall.  

You sat in the fourth row back from the entrance. There was a break in seating here and room for your things in front of you without feeling crowded. This was normally where he would sit. You sat and journaled about your day, about last night. Jotting down ideas, possible relations between happenings and the effects, trying to make sense of things. The familiar ding of the nightly bell Boyd used to warn the townsfolk rang on the distance as the sky began to darken.  

You realized Randall wasn’t back at the bus yet. Your mind spiraled into worry. You panicked rushing to the bus door closing it and waiting for him to arrive. You looked in all directions when you spot him emerge from by the clinic. He’s running to the bus as those creatures slowly follow behind him ever so menacingly. You open the door before he gets to it yelling for him to hurry. He rushes in and runs to a seat. You shut the door behind him insuring its fully closed then rush to help him. Was he hurt? What was going on? He was frantically tearing at his clothes and swatting as if there was something near him. 

You stepped close to him trying to calm him, it was as if he could hear you but couldn’t respond. You could see he was scared and was seeing something you couldn’t, his eyes flickered looking at something. Not odd for this place but nonetheless, you were concerned. He was back on the bus, but was he actually safe? What happened out there? You wondered as you tried to calm him. “Randall! Hey! It’s me you’re okay!!” You tried to consol him. You grabbed onto him holding his arms and entering his vision. He was sunk into the seat eyes still wide with fear. You put your weight on him, straddling him in the seat grabbing his face trying to redirect his attention. “Randall!” You yelled helplessly. You were scared, unsure what else to do in this moment. Unsure how to help. 

He sat with you on top of him, still unphased. It’s as if he was stuck in a waking nightmare. Suddenly all you could think was to potentially shock his system somehow to take him out of it. "Randall, focus on me, okay?” You lean in quickly, pressing your lips to his, breathing deeply through your nose. Laughter could be heard coming from the creatures that had gathered around the bus. You ignored them. You continued kissing him. Softly pressing your lips to his watching his reaction. His eyes went half lidded before flickering shut.  

His breathing slowed and body stopped trembling. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You embraced it and closed your eyes. You didn’t expect that. You pulled away for a moment examining his expression, wanting to know if he was out of the woods so to speak. “Are you okay?” You asked. He looked at you with surprise. “Why did you do that?” He spoke softly, still holding you to him. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, I just wanted to shock your system or something. I had to pull you out of that! I was scared for you, and you showed up past dark and-" he cut you off suddenly, pulling your face back to his. You melted in his grasp, returning the kiss with fervor. You wrapped your arms around him while he pulled you closer as your tongues searched each other's mouths, teeth clashing as you vigorously and passionately kiss. 

Somewhere outside there was knocking at the windows of the bus as the creatures taunted you. Neither him nor you paid attention. Your focus remained on each other. As long as the talisman hung from the frame of the bus within and the doors and windows were shut, you were fine as far as you knew. Not accounting for whatever happened to Randall. Regardless of what it was you were able to redirect his attention and pull him back, putting his focus back on you. 

Moans escaped your lips as his hands caressed your back, sides, and hips, rocking you on him. You could begin to feel the stillness grow in his pants. It was hard to ignore as it pressed against your thigh. His hands slid under the backside of your shirt; you could feel the cold air from the bus creep underneath. You took a moment to pull your shirt up over your head, fully immersing yourself in the heat of the moment. You weren't even thinking about those things outside watching. Let them, you thought. 

You caught his gaze after removing your shirt, his eyes met yours with a look of longing. You felt the same, the need. You had only been alone here for less than a week, he had been here for months. You could only imagine how alone he must have felt. Your heart ached for him, but your body lusted. You could feel heat envelope every part of you, concentrating in your groin where you began to throb for him. Your hand wandered his body, exploring every muscle, every curve and line, tracing it with your fingers, following where it led. He continued rocking your hips into him, his face now stern with concentration as he looked in your eyes watching you squirm as he rocked you slowly forward then slowly back. 

The look in his eyes as he watched you soaked your panties, that, and the friction he applied. But the way he looked at you, like he needed you, drove the innermost primal part of you absolutely insane. You began rocking with his grip, pushing yourself onto his stillness. Your head flung back as he began pressing kisses to your décolletage, biting at the fleshy mounds beneath your bra breathing heavily. 

You slid a hand between you and him down to his waistline tugging at the buttons on his jeans. He motioned to undo them and took them and his boxers off. You stood and slid your pants and panties down as well, taking them off completely before returning to his lap. You grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself as you put your knees on either side of him, while he slapped your ass. You cried out at the sting of the slap that reverberated through the silence of the bus. He looked up at you and grinned, rubbed up your thighs to your backside, grabbing a handful of flesh in each hand and bringing you in for another passionate kiss.  

Your chest heaved against his as you lustfully devoured him. You could feel him even firmer now. You were soaking wet; he must feel it you thought as you mindlessly grinded against his length. After breaking from the kiss, you lean your forehead to his looking into his eyes then down at your hand that was moving to grip him. He gasped as you took hold of him, stroking him slowly as you looked into his eyes. He was rock hard and throbbing. His tip sticky with precum. You used your fingers to spread it around before scooting yourself against him and sliding his length up and down your slit.  

Your hand held him firm to you as you slightly moved up and down. His manhood throbbing against your clit as he slid so easily against your slick cunt. He had been pawing at your flesh, squeezing, pinching and scratching at your back as you teased him. His face buried between your breasts sucking and biting. He would reach up and grab them and caress them, running his tongue over them leaving a trail of cooled skin behind that made you shiver every time he breathed.  

He would look up at you periodically, watching your face enjoy him. The hand you used to hold him against you slowly started applying pressure until he was at your entrance, and you slowly slid down, taking time to accept his size within you. You cried out as he breached, just the tip making you want more. You slid down fully, watching his face contort as you forced him inside you. You were dripping wet yet he was quite substantial, so you felt yourself stretch as he entered.  

You wrap your arms around his neck as you start to slowly grind and bounce on top of him. His hands were back at your hips trying to control the speed, pushing you down on him harder each time. His look was stern as he focused on you, looking directly into your eyes as he met every bounce of yours with a thrust of his own. Each thrust drawing a cry from you. Your moans and cries of passion paired with his grunts and heavy breathing, drowned out all the outside noise. All the screaming all the nightmarish things just beyond the windows were now worlds away. They could probably hear you over at colony house with how intense it was, how loud he had you. You pick up your knees bringing your feet onto the seat on either side of him, grabbing his shoulders as you continue to ride him. 

His head fell back against the seat eyes closed as he used his hands placed under your thighs to help lift you as you rose and fell against his length. A look of relaxation and serenity you had never seen on him before. You provided a peaceful temporary escape for him. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each panting breath that escaped his lips. You watched how his lips quivered with each passing exhale. You reach a hand up from his shoulders and caress his face softly, he burrowed his cheek into your embrace. You cradled him as he looked at you adoringly. You wondered what he was thinking. 

You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he grabbed you and flipped you onto the seat. He hovered above you as you pulled your knees to your chest. He pushed heavily against you, leaning into your knees, filling you completely. He leaned back slightly, grabbing behind your knees, placing your ankles upon his shoulders as he began drilling into you. The pain he must have experienced here, the things he's seen. You couldn’t imagine. You wanted him to take it all out on you, to have you exactly how he would want. All of his frustrations, anger, and fear, pounded into your readily waiting cunt. You wanted to give him that release, anything to take the pain away, even if only for a moment. 

Your legs clung loosely around his neck as he continued pressing his weight against you, forcing loud moans to escape your lips every time he buried himself within you, hitting your cervix. He was so enveloped in you. Watching your face twist with every thrust against you.  

He needed this, but so did you, perhaps neither one of you knew. It would have eventually led here though you thought.  He was the only one in town you found yourself able to relate to, the only one who stood up for you. Whatever ideas or thoughts people had about him were wrong. They just didn’t know him or understand him. This place makes people crazy; everyone reacts differently. It’s a big change to adapt to that no one wants to. 

Enveloped in your thoughts about him as the pleasure began to become overwhelming, you pulled your legs back down spreading them wide and wrapping them around his back as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. Holding him as close to you as you could. You took his tongue into your mouth, sucking it and pulling from the kiss with a gentle bite to his lip. This only made his motions increase furiously. He slammed into you continuously, teeth gritted, eyes narrow. A wave of pleasure washed over you emanating from your core, a sensation that began taking over your entire body. You clawed at his back, leaving red lines trailing your fingernails, it made him shiver under your touch. He could tell you were close; he was too. “Please, don’t stop!” You cooed in his ear.  

The creatures still outside could be heard chattering near the windows. Why were they watching? Maybe it mattered, maybe it didn’t. Right now, it didn’t, Randall was your focus and you-his. You had managed to pull him from his waking nightmare, however difficult that may have been. You did it, you helped him. Whatever control they had over him, was not present when he was with you. 

Hearing your plea, he maintained his rhythm as your legs began to quiver and shake around him. You squeezed your legs tightly around him as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with your own enthusiasm. Still holding him close, his forehead resting against yours, your eyes watched each other approach the precipice of climax, focusing only on one another. You could feel him begin to pulsate within you as your own climax began to coalesce. Your walls clenching tightly around him as he buried himself to the hilt. No longer able to hold on. As your own climax eclipsed his. The pulsating of his member echoed by your own quivering climax. You both erupted. Your moans filling the air of the bus and beyond. The feeling, immeasurable, as he let out an animalistic groan, thrusting into you with every pulsating shot of his essence that painted your insides. You could feel each pump, burning you from within, a fire you so badly desired.  

His face relaxed, shoulders dropped, every ounce of tension left his body with his seed, spilled deep within you. Your bodies, both shaking with exhaustion and satisfaction. Temporary focus offering temporary relief for you both. He slumped beside you cradling you to him with his large arms wrapped around you. You felt his breath on your neck, still heavy but slowing, his stillness pressed against your back as pearls of his desire dripped from your core, slowly leading a trail down your thigh.  

He pulled a blanket draped over the seat behind him and spread it over you and him with one arm. You turned your head slightly to him and raised a palm to stroke his cheek as you planted a kiss upon his lips before turning back around. He looked at you admiringly, his eyes soft and a smile that touched the corners of his lips. He kissed the back of your head before cradling himself in the crook of your neck as he held you close to him. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you.” You felt him nod and his arms squeeze you tighter. “I'm not going anywhere; you don’t have to tell me what's going on if you don’t want to. Just know I'm here, you're not alone, and my focus is on you.” You spoke candidly in a loving voice. He only nuzzled his face into your neck further, peppering your shoulder with light kisses as he quickly drifted to sleep. 

[welovelouisandbucky]

My two favorite Slytherin boys headcanons bc why not?

T/w: few swear words, my writing, and some out of character stuff because im delusional, little suggestive if you can call it that, and yes aside from that if you find any pls let me know:) also my writing

A/n: hi y'all, I just want to say pls be kind as this is my first time writing for these characters so if there's any mistakes pls overlook them thank you! Also I tried my best to keep this GN so everyone can read and enjoy this and yeah that's it, have great day!!!

S/n: requests are open so feel free to send in ideas, I'll love to write what you guys suggest. Also feel free to ask for more Slytherin or any Harry Potter characters you want headcanons/blurbs about, I'll love to write and add more🤗

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle

(gifs credits to the rightful owner)

Also this one's long as you can see I got carried away😁

Mattheo who always looks forward to see your face after the end of the day

Mattheo who will fight any one who looks at you funny or talks shits about you

Mattheo who glares at every single person but the seconds he spots you his eyes softens up in millisecond in adoration

Mattheo who holds your books or bag everywhere you guys go, because God forbid if his princess/prince ever has to worry about those things when he's there to do them for you

Mattheo who waits after you when the class is over so he can walk you to other class while he pulls you as closer to him as possible

Mattheo who searches for you before every Quidditch game so he can have his good luck charm kiss from you

Mattheo who pretends to hate and act tough when you baby him while secretly melting into a puddle inside every time you call him sweet names. ( He absolutely loses his shit when you call him baby but shush it's a secret 😌)

Mattheo who has probably drawn you only few hundreds of times in his super, super duper, very classified sketchbook that no one knows of.

Mattheo who always encourages you to do things you want to do but are too scared to actually do it.

Mattheo who always supports your decisions, even if they are stupid

Mattheo who appropriates your little hobbies and interests even if they are weird, he just wants to you to feel safe and heard around him

Mattheo who's always there for you whenever you need him, always there to hold you close on bad days because he knows how it feels when you are at your worst and there's no one to comfort you (thankfully he doesn't have to worry about being alone now that you are here as well as his friends)

Mattheo who struggles with expressing his emotions and feelings but still tries his hardest to show them to you because he wants you to know how much you mean to him.

Mattheo who's not that good at comforting but still pulls you to him because he can't stand seeing you cry and not do anything about it.

Mattheo who willingly listens to you rant about everything and anything because he loves hearing your voice (even if half of the things you said are going above his head but hey at least he's trying! ☺️)

Mattheo who hates not knowing what's happening around him because it makes him feel helpless and he hates feeling weak. That's why he always, and I mean always knows what's going on everywhere

Mattheo who's touch starved (bc yk all that being dark Lord's son and growing up with death eaters and all) and craves your touch. He's always in any way touching you, whether holding hands, or a hand on your thigh or waist just any kind of physical touch because he wants to be as close to you as possible.

Mattheo who loves loves cuddles, doesn't matter who's spooning who as long as you guys are in each other's arms.

Mattheo who loves you so much that it physically hurts him, and there's nothing he wouldn't do you

Mattheo who will always protect you no matter what

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Theodore Nott

Theo who loves to tease you throughout the whole day just so he can see you all worked up for him

Theo who looks forward to your quick comebacks every time he comments on something he knows he will get reaction out of you and absolutely loses his shit when you roast the shit out of him for it

Theo who calls you sweet endearments in Italian because he loves to see your confused smile, contemplating whether he roasted you or called you something sweet in foreign language

Theo who keeps you company while you finish your homework in library

Theo who loves spending time with you on Astronomy tower (he just in general loves spending time with you but astronomy tower is more special to him) while you are snuggled up against his side as you guys look at stars.

Theo who will read with you, doesn't matter what kind of books you guys are reading as long as both of you are together.

Theo who prefers reading classic novels but will happily read cheesy rom-com books with you because you said so (secretly he enjoys them too but hush🙈)

Theo who actually enjoys reading poetry, and sometimes when you guys are alone he'll read few to you

Theo who's always there to comfort you whenever you have problems with your family because he knows how it feels.

Theo who's always there to stand up for you in any situation

Theo who starts to smoke less around you if it bothers you, but if you smoke too then both of you guys will smoke together at the Astronomy tower

Theo who loves silence and doesn't enjoy talking much but is always ready to listen to you talk for hours, you are the only person he can talk and listen to for eternity without ever getting sick of it.

Theo who loves when you wear his clothes

Theo who said I love you first time when he saw you curse someone out because they said some shit about him, he doesn't really care whatever shit they were saying but seeing you stand up for him made him feel emotions he never felt before.

Theo who just absolutely loves you and wants to spend entirety of his life with you

Thank you so much for reading, likes and comments are very much appreciated. As well as positive criticism, pls don't hate this is a safe place for everyone!! Bye bye have great day!!!

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Enzo's headcanon!